Truthfully, Brian didn’t think the costumes were amazing. The lack of seams to remove the costume, the realism of what he was seeing and, all and all, the experience was creeping him out. Fighting to keep from starting to breath heavily, Brian straightened up, prepared to tell Bethany exactly what he thought of the outfit and ask for assistance in finding a way to remove it. Turning to look at the other girl, his mind flashed to how pretty she looked and the intimate kiss they had engaged in moments ago, along with the feel of her soft, petite hand cupping his breast as the two fumbled about, two thirteen-year-old girls exploring their feelings, but unsure and unfamiliar in what they were doing.
“No,” he thought and struggling to push the memory away, he thought, “That, never happened,” and taking a deep breath, he prepared himself to tell Bethany exactly what he thought of the costumes, but once again saw how pretty she was, along with the happiness with trying something different clearly visible in her stance and the way she was beaming.
The words dying before he could even utter them, Brian found himself whispering, “They are pretty amazing,” as he turned back to the mirror and peered into the reflective surface, realising as he did that he didn’t want to be the source of spoiling his girlfriend’s mood.
Behind him, Bethany giggled and moving across the room, she exclaimed, “You act like you’ve never seen a naked woman before. Are you just going to stand there in front of my mirror all night, or are you going to finished getting dressed so that we can go out and at least try this once,” and leaning against him, which Brian noted that she was not at least two inches taller them him, she slipped her arms under his, ran a finger over his extra nipples, then cupped the small mounds of flesh.
“So realistic,” she muttered as she rested her head on his shoulder, completely missing that she was now taller than her boyfriend, as well as the red fox tail that extended out from Brian’s tailbone, and made a circular motion with her thumb over the erect nipple on Brian’s right breast.
Brian, suppressing a shiver of excitement and enjoyment, slowly nodded. Struggling not to moan with pleasure, he whispered, “I was just about to put on the rest of the costume when you came in,” in a low, intimate tone that both missed.
“Well, don’t let me keep you,” Bethany told him and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, which left Brian feeling even more conflicted, she withdrew her hands, something Brian wanted to tell her not to, and headed back across the room. Stopping in the doorway, she asked, “Do you need any help?” to which Brian shook his head and Bethany said, “All right. I’ll be in the living room waiting. Give a holler if you need any assistance,” and disappearing toward the apartment living room, she left Brian standing in front of her mirror.
Slowly turning back to look at his reflection, taking in as much as he could, Brian eventually asked, “What the hell is the matter with me?” and turning away, he headed back toward the bed.
A feeling of confliction settling over him, he reached down and picked up the bra. Thinking of the white lie he’d told Bethany, he wondered how it would come back to bite him. Pulling the garment around his torso section, he affixed the clasp in front, turned to look in the mirror and doing what his mind assured him he’d been doing ever since he’d first started wearing bras, Brian adjusted the cups so that his breasts rested comfortable, but also displayed a hint of cleavage, which he found kind of difficult because his breasts were too small and the bra’s padding only added one cup size.
Unaware of what he was doing, and how naturally it came to him, Brian peered at his reflection and shuddered as he remembered the intimate touch of his girlfriend’s hands on his breasts and the way her finger felt brushing against his four extra nipples. Muttering, “It’s only to make her happy. And it is only for one evening,” he turned away from the mirror and reached for the shorts.
The leather thong caused him the most problems as he pulled back on the shorts and in the end he had to undo it completely, button the front of the shorts up, then reach back and without pinching the tail, he did up the leather tie by facing so that he was looking at his bum whilst peering into Bethany’s mirror. With the shorts on, he hastily pulled back on the shirt. One side slipping off his shoulder, Brian sighed, cast one final glance into the mirror and was glad that he and Bethany lived in a warm climate and that the temperature for the evening would be in the upper sixties to low seventies.
Out in the living room, his girlfriend took one look at him and squealing, “You look so cute, so adorable,” before leaping at him and embracing him in a hug.
Once more, Brian found himself overwhelmed with feelings he’d never felt before. He loved Bethany, even planned to ask her to marry him some day. But now, feeling Bethany hug him, felt himself kiss her, felt her breasts crushed up against his, faintly could feel through her shirt what felt like four extra nipples, like his, felt himself hug her back as she returned the kiss, he found himself with a closeness he never thought to be possible. Unable to stop himself, he reached down and cupping Bethany’s breast, he listened as she giggled again before telling him, “Later, okay. And, maybe if you want, with the costumes on.”
The sensation of reality come crashing over him, Brian once again felt conflicted about what was happening and whether he had been right in not telling Bethany how he truly felt about the costume. Staring at the now four foot seven girl, he wondered how it was the costumes did what they did. Slowly, he nodded and confirmed, “Later,” as he struggled to remind himself that he was a twenty-six-year-old man, not a thirteen-year-old girl.
Bethany, turning away, didn’t notice the issue he was having. Instead, her mind on the parties they would be going to, she reached down and picked up a pair of girl’s canvas high-tops that had a pair of white socks sticking out of one of the shoes. Handing them to Brian, she explained, “I almost forgot. These, and the ones I am wearing,” she indicated down to a pair of white canvas tennis shoes she had on, “were in the bottom of the bag. Guess they must have come with the costume and that the woman slipped them in because I missed them when selecting the outfits.”
His mind instantly flashing to how small the shoes were and that he wouldn’t be able to fit his feet into them, Brian took the high-tops. Saying, “Thanks,” he sat down on the couch and began to pull on the socks, which were white with a pink toe and heal section and came up only an inch or two past his ankles, then the shoes, which he found not only fit and but also thought that they looked rather cute.
As Brian tied the laces, Bethany exclaimed, “So, which parties should go to first,” and listing off all the nearest parties, Brian stood and when she was finished, made a suggestion.