I quietly followed Jim andstood back outside his open bedroom door where I could see his reflectionin the mirror in the far wall. I don't usually spy on my son but thistime I just had to see how he navigated the female ritual of removing astubborn long line bra from his body. I was proud to see him carefullyunzip the back of the sundress and gently raise the garment over hishead, being careful not to muss his "do". Then I blushed to see himstanding there in bra and girdle and several layers of stiff crinolinepetticoats. He did not rush to remove these girlish bits of frou frou.Instead his hands explored the texture and the structure of thepetticoats, lifting them higher to expose his panties.He twirled several times in place, and the blur of the petticoats inaction and the sight of his brassiered boyish breasts gave me a chill.The twirling stopped and he got down to the business of divesting himselfof this set of frippery. The petticoats fell into a glorious heap offeminine delight. After their marriage, Rekha knew me better and I and Rekha Bhabhi were fairly comfortable with each other.Once, I had to stay with them due to some assignment, which needed my stay in Ahmedabad for three days. On the day of my arrival, I offered to host a dinner for Sudhir and Rekha. They had been married for about almost three years then. We fixed up to meet at “Cama Hotel” in Shahpur. Rekha was to come from her bank at about 6.30 pm. I was to come after finishing my day’s work directly and Sudhir was to come from his place of work. We got together at about 6.45 pm. After initial pleasantries; I asked Rekha bhabhi jokingly, “How did you choose Sudhir, of all the people?” She understood the banter meant for a close good friend in a light vein. She smiled and said, “Well amongst all the boys with whom I was going around, he was the sweetest, simplest idiot, the only one I could find. I wanted exactly that type.”I looked at Sudhir. He was blushing like a shy girl. I could see that he.
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