I looked up from the sink full of dishes to see how my spouse had outfitted our son.
A short sleeveless white skater dress adorned his body and white patent Mary-Janes adorned his feet. Nude pantyhose encased his legs and a white purse, slung over his shoulder, completed the outfit.
His eyes were lightly made up – just a touch of liner and mascara and a smudge of eyeshadow. Pink lip gloss highlighted his lips and he might have had a light touch of blush, too, but I was not sure. Either way, his makeup, as well as his whole presentation was befitting his age.
“What's the matter, Cammi? You look very pretty,” I replied.
“I can't go to school dressed like this,” he whined.
“Why not?’ I asked.
“The other boys will make fun of me,” he replied.
“I don't understand why they would,” was my perplexed retort.
“White – after Labor Day!” was his anxious reply.
“Of course, now I understand,” I replied. “Let's go upstairs, my little fashionista, and dress you properly for the season.”
“Thank you, Daddy,” my son beamed. Then he hurried over to me and gave me a hug.
I bent over to kiss him on the forehead. As I did, my breasts brushed his face and he remarked, “Oh, Daddy, I can't wait until I'm old enough to wear a bra like you.”
“You know, you're just about old enough to start wearing a training bra.” I remarked. “Maybe Saturday, I will take you shopping and buy you a trainer.”
“That would be awesome!”
Then I patted him on his pantied rear and said, “Let's get going. We have to get you dressed up all over again before the school bus arrives.”
“OK, Daddy,” and with that Cameron ran ahead of me. As he reached the foot of the stairs, he looked back to see me lagging behind.
“Hurry up, Daddy.”
“I’m moving as fast as I can, but I can’t keep up with you in this tight skirt and high heels!”
Wearing Natori |
Gene Hackman dons drag in the 1996 film The Birdcage. |