They were big. She was wearing a spandex tank top that was stretched way out of shape by her tits. The armholes were half way up her tit so her bra sh...wed. I guess that's the Madonna look. The front showed plenty of cleavage. I'm not a fan of big tits, but it was hard to take my eyes of them especially knowing that I'd be sucking them soon.She bounced in and took a look around. She was the complete opposite of the quiet Caitlin. We were talking about school, her friends, the sex school. It would be a lie to say that I hadn't enjoyed the last few days but it would be equally untrue if it hadn't worried me in some way. I mean, before any of this I was a normal, well-adjusted, masculine man. I had never even dreamed of wearing a dress. And now, here I was, wrapped around my wife, wearing one of her best nightdresses. What did this mean? Was I gay? Was she? Confusion reigned supreme...***The following day was Saturday so we got up late. It felt strange waking up and realising that. More

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