Taking Risks

I took a vacation recently with ___, mostly visiting family. In spite of the inclement weather, we had been encouraged to bring swimsuits, just in case. On our second day visiting, we had put our swimwear and towels in a tote bag, but were unable to use them. At the end of the day, our host had gone to bed before us, put away the towels we borrowed, and left our swimsuits neatly folded for us in the bathroom.

I took it upon myself to bring the swimsuits back to our room. I was becoming very excited, having a bikini in my hand with a legitimate reason. Because ___'s suitcase was packed to overflowing, and mine had so much space in it, without a word I tossed both our swimsuits into my suitcase. It was mildly exciting for me to have something feminine among my clothes. I fantasized that her bikini belonged to me.

Henceforth, every single day when I got dressed, I pawed the bikini in my suitcase, longing to wear it, but knowing that it would be practically impossible, and much more humiliating if I managed to get caught. My mind grew fertile with erotic scenarios. This kept me constantly aroused, which my unsuspecting wife benefited from often.

Still, every morning when I touched her bikini, my desire flared up as strong as before. It was becoming unbearable.

By the end of the first week, I arranged to be in our bedroom while she showered, and slipped on the panties for a few brief seconds. I couldn't hear the shower from our room, so I couldn't dare to put on the bra, and my heart pounded with the fear that she could walk back in at any time and catch me. The next day, I made sure of exactly when she stepped into the shower, knowing that it would at least give me a few minutes. This time, much to my satisfaction, I put on the bra as well. I took it off again almost immediately, but glowed with the thrill of having had it on with ___ so near by.

Of course this only whet my appetite for more daring stunts. One morning, as ___ slept soundly, I put on the panties as I sat on the floor by the bed. She lay no more than three feet away, and I dared to wear her panties! I was terrified, and again, only wore them for a few seconds. I had never taken such a risk before. It was both exhilarating and frustrating. I tried to redirect my pent-up fetish into normal matrimonial intimacy, but no matter how many times ___ and I made love, and as glorious and satisfying as it was, my need to be feminine simply would not go away.

Near the end of our trip, I was exhausted from all of the normal tourist activity. ___ always tended to sleep in, and napped in the car between destinations. So, as she chatted with our hosts downstairs, I napped in our bedroom upstairs. But I could hardly sleep, fevered as I was with fantasies of feminization. I could no longer resist. I went to my suitcase, took ___'s bikini, and walked boldly out of the room and across the hall to the bathroom with it in my hand. I locked the door behind me, took off all my clothes, and put on the bikini. I primped in front of the mirror, and happily masturbated. Relief at last! I cleaned up, hid the bikini in my pants, and snuck back to the bedroom, thrilled by my crime, hands shaking as I hid the evidence.

Finally we came home late at night, parked our still-packed suitcases by our own closets, and went to sleep. I woke up early, unable to remain in bed. I was possessed with more transsexual fantasies, and determined to relate my adventure here. Imagine my joy when I discovered another of ___'s bikinis hanging in the second bathroom, set out to dry just before our trip, and since forgotten. With ___ still sleeping soundly several rooms away, I did not hesitate to slip into this one, too, and savor every moment of it.

I think I'm going to get into trouble some day. At this rate, it's likely to be soon.