“I would like to take our fantasy one step further. I
want you to don an outfit from among my things each
evening upon our arrival home,” she said seriously. “I
also had two wigs custom made for you to wear, both
jet black to match my own hair coloring.”
“Two wigs?”
“Yes, for you to wear depending on the time of the
evening. One is drawn tightly back into a bun and the
other with the tresses falling long and free like mine
when I prepare for bed.”
“In other words,” I said, a little breathlessly and
with an insight that astounded me later, “you want to
be able to look upon me, while we’re intimate, as
yourself twenty or thirty years ago. I’m really stunned
by this, as you can imagine. I am curious though,
how you can possibly hope to see in me a replica of
yourself, just by having me wear your clothing and a
wig?”