Early one Saturday afternoon, my wife and I went to an upscale nail salon near our home. We were welcomed inside by the nice lady at the front counter, who invited Katie to pick out a color of nail polish from the rack by the door.

The worker didn’t seem particularly surprised when Katie beckoned me over and asked my opinion on what shade to select. I pored over the selection, pulling out one little bottle after another and carefully inspecting their labels.

“This one,” I said, lifting one particular bottle of blue. I don’t think anyone in the salon, Katie included, noticed how my hand was trembling.

My wife took the bottle from me and turned to the receptionist.

“Can we buy this?” she asked.

The woman looked a little surprised and sweetly said, “You do know we don’t charge extra for the polish we put on your nails. It comes with the mani-pedi treatment.”

“Sure,” she said. “But I’ve been looking for this specific color for ages.”

“Prima Donna,” I said suddenly, unable to help myself.

“Prima Donna, right,” Katie said smoothly. “That’s what it’s called. I just love it, and I can’t find it anywhere.”

“OK,” the woman replied. “Let me get you a fresh bottle.”

After making our purchase, we drove back to our place and carried in the bottle of polish, along with several shopping bags. The bags contained various cosmetics I had selected earlier during our day out — lipstick and eyeshadow, along with a package of press-on nails and several disposable razors and cans of shaving cream.

I left Katie in the downstairs bathroom, while I headed to the facilities upstairs. Then we both began getting ready for the evening. My entire body tingled with anticipation, and as I stripped down to my skin, my excitement grew and grew. My cock was already hard under my khakis. My balls felt fat and sensitive in the ultra-tight sports briefs I’d been wearing. My nipples were itching, as though my chest had suddenly sprouted boobs to fit the D-cup bra, I’d bought the previous week.

Once I was naked, I shaved, carefully removing every trace of hair from my cheeks, arms, chest and legs. I treated myself to a hot shower, careful not to touch my yearning cock, then toweled off and got to work affixing my artificial nails and doing my makeup.

I applied my prized Prima Donna blue polish to the press-on talons. I left my toenails unadorned, since I had decided to wear my best pumps that evening. But ten long, luxurious nails gleaming with that gorgeous, creamy blue were enough for me. Absolutely beautiful. I had quite a job resisting the urge to wrap my strong fingers around my shaft and jerk myself off. Only the knowledge that shooting a hot puddle onto the floor would leave me spent before the evening properly began allowed me to abstain.

Instead, after my nails dried I spent the next half hour doing up my face, carefully accenting my eyes and mouth, adding extensions to my already — if I do say so myself — beautifully long lashes. I took my time, letting the goddess inside me come out as slowly as she wished. I put on my blonde wig, pinning it in place against my short natural hair, and it looked incredible on me.

Next came my tuck. Not all “girls” do it, but if you’re as easily excited as Rachael — that’s me — it’s a must. I carefully slipped my stiffening cock between my legs and used a good tight pair of panties to hold it in place. Looking at me, you would never guess what I was carrying between my legs.

Finally, all that was left to do was dress in my best powder blue suit, which perfectly complemented my nails. It has a slightly too short skirt and a perfectly cut jacket. As a finishing touch, I spritzed myself with my favorite perfume.

And there I was, or rather there she was. Rachael, my better half, or Blondie, as she was known in the trashier clubs. 

It’s hard to describe what it’s like living with another woman who feels simultaneously like your lover, your sister and yourself. It’s not just the image of Rachael I love, but the sheer physicality of being her. The smells of her perfume, the silkiness of her underthings against my middle, the strange tightness of some parts of her costume combined with the comparative airy freedom of others. As a man, I’m not bad-looking — or so I’m told — but I’ve always been quiet and somewhat shy. As Rachael, though, I’m completely different.

I love going out at night in my full regalia, attracting the attention of both men and women on the streets. I don’t kid myself that I’m what’s called passable. I’m too tall, my features too strong, and the proportions of my body don’t quite match up the way a woman’s would. But even though I sometimes get startled looks, I more often get sly or delighted smiles.

I’m very lucky that Katie not only understands my love for Rachael but shares it. She knew about my other self before we married, and after we made our union official, she insisted on coming out with me on my walks. That’s made them quite a bit hotter. At first, I was worried that her presence might frighten away Rachael’s admirers, but as it happened, the opposite was true. Now instead of covert glances, I often got actual propositions, and from women more often than not.

That first night we were out together, we attracted the attention of a lovely Southern belle, who was somewhat unsteady on her feet after a night of partying. She approached us outside a nightclub we happened to be passing. The three of us took a cab back to her place and enjoyed a truly memorable evening.

“I love me a big woman,” our hostess gasped, climbing onto my lap and giving me kisses as delicate as that of a butterfly, while Katie slipped a hand between her grinding body and my panty-sheathed cock. My girl knew exactly how to please me, and from the way the belle’s gasps rose in pitch, I can only assume the many stories Katie had told me about her time with female lovers was, if anything, an understatement.

On another evening, we enjoyed the attentions of a group of sorority girls. Katie and I had sprung for a room in a classy hotel and spent a very agreeable two hours with our guests. Katie fucked my ass with a strap-on she’d pulled from her purse, while a busty brunette took my cock between her rosebud lips and her girlfriends entertained themselves with one another on the floor. We ended the evening with a huge group grope on the king-size bed. It was, as the kids say, nice.

Anyhow, back to our latest adventure.

I headed downstairs full of anticipation. I found my wife on the couch, wearing her favorite leather pants, paired with stiletto heels and a silk blouse. She had managed to create a look of sexy femininity and even sexier strength with a few artfully combined articles of clothing. Katie’s good at that. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, her red lips curved into a sexy smile.

“You look nice,” she said. 

“Well, thank you,” I replied, striking a pose. “You look even better. You ready to go?”

She nodded, and we headed for the front door. But when we opened it, we both stood frozen as a cold wind whipped up and thunder suddenly pealed across the blackened sky.

Katie groaned and griped, “Please say it’s not going to rain!”

As it turned out, I didn’t have time to say anything. Rain instantly poured down in torrents. We stood staring at each other, letting the meteorological truth set in.

“Guess we’re not going anywhere,” Katie said with a rueful smile.

“Sure looks that way.”

We could have made it to our car, but the rain didn’t look like it would stop anytime soon. We could have had drinks somewhere, but our favorite parts of our outings were always when we’d saunter along the nighttime streets looking for company — and with the state of the weather that was out of the question.

“We could stay here,” Katie proposed, reaching around to cup my butt. “Until the rain stops.”

The slow, lingering stroke of her fingers down my ass caused electricity to shoot up my spine.

“My,” she whispered, “you’re pretty. Can I get you a drink?”

“Well, sure,” I replied, playing along. “Do you know a place around here?”

She closed the front door and took my hand again, leading me to the couch. “I think so,” she said, pressing me down onto the cushions. “You just lie back and relax.”

Katie slipped off her heels and climbed atop me, kissing me more ardently than any of our admirers ever had. Her hand slid beneath my skirt, finding its way to my stiff cock. As she rubbed my panty-covered dick, I sighed and allowed myself to enjoy the sensation. I helped her slip off my undies, and she stripped off her own clothes. Then she lowered her dripping snatch onto my erection, and our lipstick-smeared puckers met in a searing kiss as she bounced on my pole.

Having my lust-crazed girl fuck me, while I wore my wig and makeup, made me so incredibly hot. Katie gyrated and ground her hips, taking her pleasure from me and delivering even more in return. Her velvety cunt hugged my shaft, giving me the perfect amount of wetness and friction, driving us both to climax.

We never left our house that night. But we still managed to nail an incredibly satisfying evening.