Memories

We went lingerie shopping as Emily wanted to pick out a few things for me to wear, gifts from her for her "pretty" boyfriend, things to soften me, not just things I had, but things we picked out together. There were pretty panties these will look so cute on you, she'd said. This was back...I don't know how long ago, before we married, of course.

"You're smiling," I commented.

"Just thinking of your little penis in these," she looked at me, "so soft, so small, so feminine."

I looked around, horrified, afraid someone would hear her, but no one was near.

"Emily," I looked down, at that point unaccustomed at a woman who enjoyed my small size.

"You're embarrassed," she said, "why?"

"I don't know," I said, "you...I just assume...I mean..."

She understood. "She didn't understand what she had," Emily said, meaning my ex-wife. "I mean, I get it, I like men of a certain, er, endowment just like any other woman, but I see the value of, well, a boy with a, well, softer, feminine side."

"They...they are pretty," I said, looking at the panties.

"Especially when you're soft...or tucked."

"Anything for you," I said, trying to be playful, trying to hide my shame, even as it thrilled me.

"Anything?" she asked with a twisted smile.

"Almost anything," I hedged.

She looked around, saw the matching bra, picked it up. "How about my pretty boyfriend in this, his penis soft and safely tucked away, while he's between my legs worshipping me with that talented tongue of his."

"I...I think he'd be up for that," I said, almost too eager.

She leaned towards me, whispered in my ear. "Soft," she said, "soft the whole time."

"I...I told you I like pleasing you, thinking just of you, finding pleasure from your pleasure."

"Well we can test that," she said, picking up the matching white bra and panties, finding another set in a pinkish-flesh. "These can be your stay small, soft, and tucked and worship Emily bra and panty sets."

"Fine," I said.

"Promise?" she asked.

"Promise," I said, "whenever you want me to stay small and soft and tucked and lick you without thinking about myself, just have me wear one of those sets."

She laughed. "If that's your attitude, my pretty little boy, I'm not sure two sets are enough."

"Get four, then," I grinned at her, "so even six."

She smiled happily. "Lover, you might want to be careful, you might find yourself permanently soft and between my legs every night."

"There are worse ways to be make a woman happy," I smiled at her.

"If you never want your little penis inside me again, who am I to complain," she teased.

"I...I didn't say that," I equivocated. "Maybe...maybe just four sets."

"Mmmmm," she smiled at me, settling on two white and two pinkish sets."

That was all a prelude to a date night about a week and a half later and a text she sent me. "When you pick me up tonight for dinner, I expect you to be wearing one of your new 'small and soft and tucked' sets."

I have to admit part of me was disappointed as I'd hoped to, well, use the thing she now apparently wanted stay small, soft, and tucked. "If you wish," I responded.

"Oh, I wish," she texted immediately. "I know how, well, motivated, you are when you just focus on me."

So we were at dinner, Emily was wearing a knockout gorgeous little black dress with black hose and I know I couldn't stop staring at her.

"You know you're gawking," she'd said earlier when I picked her up.

"I...I can't help it," I said, "you look so...so pretty...it's like you're purposefully teasing me."

"I am, my pretty," she said. "At dinner, I want every guy who sees us to be jealous."

"Jealous how?" I asked.

"Guys are going to look at you and be jealous, assuming we're on a date, assuming you're going to take me home, and assuming you're going to get to fuck me. Look for it, love, except when you see a guy looking at you jealously, be conscious his assumptions are wrong. Totally wrong."

"Emily," I moaned.

"Be conscious you're wearing your stay small, soft, and tucked and worship Emily bra and panties and that when you get home, you don't get to untuck your little penis, you don't get to grow, and you definitely don't get to put it inside me, no love, when you get home all you get to do is worship me. When you get home, my pleasure is your pleasure and no more."

"I...I love pleasuring you," I said.

"So watch them," she said, "and every time you see a man looking at us remember you're wearing a bra and panty set because you're not a man and as much as you may want it, you're going to stay small, soft, and tucked and worship Emily."

I noticed it at dinner, noticed at least half a dozen men look at her, look at me. Most with their own dates, men I assumed would actually get to fuck a woman that night. But I noticed something else, too, our waitress looking at me weirdly. I said something halfway through dinner, but Emily shrugged like she didn't notice.

It wasn't until just before we ordered dessert and Emily excused herself to go to the restroom I understood. She smiled when she sat down, like she was in on a private joke. "What?" I asked her.

"I'll tell you after dinner," she said.

After the waitress took our check, she chuckled again at her private joke.

"What?" I asked again.

"All those jealous guys," she said, "with there erroneous assumptions."

"And?"

"Our waitress knows better."

"Knows what better?"

"That you're not the man in my life," she said, "that you're more, well, on the pretty side."

"Knows how?" I demanded

She looked at me, her eyes went to my shirt; she nodded and smiled.

I looked down, followed her eyes, saw it, felt my face go ten shades of red. I'd missed a button on my shirt and the way I was sitting, it must have been obvious to anyone walking from that side, first the waitress, then Emily when she came back from the bathroom, that I was wearing a bra under my shirt.

I wanted to immediately redo the button, but the waitress was walking back with our check. I saw her eyes go to the gap in my shirt. She said nothing about it, just smiled. "You two have a good night," she said.

"Oh, we will," Emily said, smiling.

"Emily!" I said as soon as the waitress left. 

She shrugged. "Guess I'm not the only one who knows you're wearing a bra," she said, "though she doesn't know it's your stay small, soft, and tucked and worship Emily bra."

She was true to her promise for when we got home, I did stay small, soft, and tucked and worshipped her body for probably two hours."