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I closed my eyes. I let the shirt drop down off of one shoulder. I turned my head so my chin was against my shoulder, looking at the camera, over my shoulder. I slowly brought the shirt back up.I slowly turned around. Unbuttoning each button, so slowly, never taking my eyes off the camera, turning in a small circle. When my back was back to the camera, I let the shirt drop off my shoulders, stopping right above the shelf of my bottom, being held by the sleeves hanging on my elbows.…oh that silk sliding down…[/]I just stood there. Suddenly unsure…look at me…I want you to see me…I trembled.…how would his hands feel on my shoulders...I snapped out of what I was feeling and with a swift movement, brought the shirt back up. I turned to face the camera. The shirt was open. I traced my finger from just below my hidden breasts over my stomach…twirling my finger around my belly button...lips slightly parted.I turned and gave the camera my profile. His shirt covering me, I slid the panties. Then there was the gruelling series of rehearsals until everyone knew their lines. There was one last dress rehearsal in which Jay was able to wear his flowing gown but makeup was unnecessary so he felt somewhat incomplete.Finally, the big night arrived. There was an excited buzz backstage as everyone climbed into their costumes and submitted to the ministrations of the makeup artists. Stars “Anne” and “Henry” were given their own private change rooms. Jay had a wardrobe mistress, Agatha, who gaily fussed over him. She arrayed him in lacy brushed cotton underwear and white silk stockings. A skilled cosmetician, she painted his face with deft, delicate strokes, finally standing back to admire her handiwork. She smiled in triumph. Then she took down the gown from the rack of sensuous dresses. Excitedly, she lowered it over his slim, corseted frame. It was gorgeous. Light blue silk and satin, embroidered at the front, puff sleeves, and voluminous petticoats which made it stand out in a.
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