Swimsuit Shopping

T__ has been shopping for a swimsuit.  This is fantastic news for me, of course, because I wear her swimsuits, unknown to her, far more often than she does.

This time, she's decided to order everything online from Victoria's Secret.  At this time of year, they have little selection in their stores, so she has them mail her a few items at once, tries them on for size and fit, and returns what she doesn't like.  They have a very flexible return policy.

She opened the package the day it arrived, and tried everything on.  She had two suits, and preferred one to the other, but didn't like the way the panties fit.  She decided to send back one entire suit, and order a bunch of different styles of bottoms, to see which fit best.  So she folded up the rejected suit and left it in the foyer, so she could mail it back to them at her convenience.  Lucky for me, she didn't pack it up.

I've had almost no opportunities lately, because I haven't had any time alone.  It's been driving me crazy.  The temptation was irresistible, and I knew that I only had a very short window of time before they'd disappear forever.  I was determined to take advantage of my fortune, no matter how risky.

I couldn't sleep that night.  I woke up early, and quietly got out of bed.  I shut the bedroom door behind me, and crept to the foyer, to contemplate my torment.  I went about my morning routine for a little while, to be sure that T__ remained asleep.  Then I sneaked back to the foyer, took my prize, and rushed to the guest bathroom, where I quietly stripped out of my pajamas, and slipped into the glorious rejected bikini:

If you've ever ordered a new string bikini bottom from VS, you know that you have to tie the sides yourself.  I fumbled nervously with it for a couple of minutes, trying to figure out the best way to go about it.  I settled on holding it at my crotch with my legs, and tying each side together one at a time, rather than tying it first, then putting it on.  The bra was a standard triangle top, which I've become an expert at putting on over the years.  It was the first swimsuit I'd ever worn with chunky decorative pieces on it.

Sadly, I had little time, and I was terrified that T__ would wake up and discover that her bikinis weren't where she left them.  I rushed to climax there in the bathroom, cleaned up, untied all the knots, and slipped the bra and panties back into their respective plastic bags.  It wasn't nearly as satisfying as it could have been, but now I had to say goodbye.  Back in my pajamas, I snuck back to the foyer again, and put my prize back exactly how I found it.

This was a few weeks ago now.  Amazingly, T__ neglected to send these items back for a couple more days.  I could have taken more time with them, but I never knew when they'd disappear.  Anyway, I had another bikini to try on.

The very next day, I managed to get some alone time.  The bikini she kept was in the bedroom by her dresser.  T__ had stuck a panty liner into the panties, for good hygiene's sake, in case she wanted to return it.  It had never even occurred to me to wear a panty liner, and I unexpectedly found this highly arousing.  The panties were tight, small, and bright pink, but not skimpy like a string bikini.  The bra, which she was definitely keeping, is a halter-top, which she likes because of the way it supports her breasts.  I savored this one quite a bit more, since I had more time and privacy.  The panty liner made me feel like such a limp-wristed sissy!  I'll have to do that again sometime.

Finally, last week, the remaining bikini bottoms arrived.  Unfortunately, this time I didn't get to even see all of them.  She tried them all on, settled on the winner, and sent the rest back, all in one day.  I am consoled by the fact that I've tried on so many different bikini bottoms in my life that none of them would have been a particularly new experience.  I'll never know for sure, though, because I never even saw them.  Except, of course, for the one that she kept.

The one she kept is a foldover low-rise bottom, in bright pink.  I'd never touched one before.  The part that folds over is the same material as the exterior of the rest of the panty.  It softly caresses my hips, but folds sloppily over my ridiculous boy parts.  It looks particularly awful on a man, but I didn't care.  I had a wonderful time all the same with it and the halter bra she kept to go with it.  Now that it's in her closet, it's available to me whenever I can find the time for it.  I'll surely wear it again, although it's not my favorite.

This is Becoming a Habit

 I'm on another business trip, and as is becoming usual, I bought myself some nail polish and makeup. I bought a cheap makeup box on Ama...