Fancy Dress Party

A Fancy Dress Party (changed my life)


“Hi, have you got my costume for tonight?” I asked Amanda as soon as I returned home from my Honeymoon.
“Well; there’s been a change of plan. We aren’t going as the Spice Girls after all. I’ve had to order you something special instead.” She laughed, before asking about my Honeymoon in Corfu. As she hung up we agreed that my new husband, Paul, would drop me at her house at 6.30.
As I talked about my holiday I completely forgot to ask what my new costume was going to be.
Later in the day I began to worry as Amanda has a completely different sense of humour to me.


We had worked together in accounts for 5years and had become best friends despite being completely opposite in character and her being 10 years older than me. Amanda was married with 3 young sons and I had only been married for two weeks, although Paul and I had lived together for 5 years since leaving University.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to pick you up?” My darling husband asked as he dropped me outside her house.
“No, it’s fine, I’m sharing a taxi with Nicky and Clare; don’t worry.” I reminded him as we kissed goodbye.
Amanda’s house was its’ usual chaos as I stepped over discarded toys in the hallway leading to the kitchen.


Before I could say hello to the kids she produced a bottle of red wine and two glasses grabbed me by the arm and dragged me upstairs to change into our outfits.
Once inside the bedroom she took two large bags from the wardrobe and giggled as she unpacked the first one “Ta Da! Lara Croft for me!” then emptying the second onto the bed -, “Trust me, please, trust me. For you…….Miss Whiplash!”

I couldn’t believe my eyes. “Tell me you’re joking!” I gasped as I looked at the fancy dress outfit that she was laying out onto her bed for me.
“There…there’s nothing to it!” I stammered, “But…everyone will see my underwear…and I can’t wear …them!” I pointed at a pair of stockings.


Amanda was already getting undressed as I picked up and stared at a short leather skirt.
I glanced at Amanda; her breasts were smaller and softer than mine as she unclipped her bra and dropped it on the floor.
“Come on, hurry up”, she chided me, as she slipped her white knickers off, exposing her neatly trimmed pubes.
I must have been staring at her private parts as I gulped at my wine.
“Surprised?” she laughed as she stopped pulling up a sexy black g-string. She ran her hand over the stubble and smiled.
“John prefers it this short. Sometimes I even shave it all off for him,” Amanda laughed, revelling in my embarrassment, “It’s better for him when he licks me out! Ha, ha, ha!”
“Come on…hurry up. You haven’t got a choice… get your knickers off and get that outfit on!” Amanda chuckled as she pulled the small tight Lycra top over her head, “John can’t wait to see you”.


I grudgingly discarded my sweatshirt, jeans and boring white bra until I was only wearing a pair of green panties.
Paul and I had met at University and still dressed ‘very casual’ even bordering on ‘hippyish’. I normally wore jeans or jogging pants and trainers with loose fitting tops to disguise my large (34dd) breasts. I would only put on a little bit of lipstick and mascara to go to the pub. My hair is brown and cut quite short. I would never ever wear anything as revealing as this and my husband wouldn’t want me to either.
Amanda was already fastening her boots as I tentatively picked up a half-cup black bra that was lying next to a tiny red thong.
“I’ll never get everything into this!” I playfully moaned looking at the size – 32c.
“Oh come on,” she sighed as she hitched her leather shorts even higher up her hips until they were nearly cutting her in two, “it’ll be a laugh.”
I smiled as I turned away to take my knickers off.

With a heavy heart I stepped into Amanda’s tiny red panties.
Amanda fastened the bra for me as I fumbled with the clasp. It was obviously at least a size too small making my heavy breasts appear to spill out at any moment.
“Have I got to wear these?” I pleaded waving the packet of fishnet stockings at my friend.
“Yes you do!” She insisted as she fastened her gun belt to her hips.
I carefully pulled the first one over my toes and up my leg making the elastic snap against my thigh. As I straightened the top of the second stocking I glimpsed myself in the mirror, my bushy pubes where poking out of the top and sides of the tiny red slip of material.