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DrDMatthews

The Gift In Box Number Two

Deb Matthews stood before the full length mirror and literally gasped. She closed her eyes for a moment, but when she reopened them, the image before her hadn't changed a bit. She watched with mild annoyance as a bright, pink blush crawled up her neck and completely covered her face.

 

She was embarrassed...genuinely embarrassed! "But why?" she whispered to the woman looking back at her in the mirror....the woman wearing the skimpy black nightie designed and manufactured somewhere on Delta IV. "It's not like....he hasn't seen....more of you....than this!"

 

Debbie drew a deep breath and shook her head. It was day twelve of her honeymoon. She had finally worked up the courage to put on the little...oh it was beyond little...nightie from box # 2. It left practically nothing to the imagination but, as Rose Matthews explained the day before the wedding, it wasn't meant to. This skimpy little thing was designed to accentuate one's attributes. And that was precisely what it did.

 

Deb dropped her head and closed her eyes. The problem wasn't her body. She took great pride in her body. She'd just never packaged it this way before. She'd never even considered such a thing until her grandmother handed her that small box labled # 2. Wearing something like this was totally out of character for her.

 

She glanced toward the closed door. Aidan was in the other room. He'd been reading when she slipped into the bedroom just a few minutes earlier. She desperately wanted to both surprise and please him. She was pretty sure he'd be surprised. But above all else, he was a man. How could he not be pleased.

 

Deb looked at herself again in the mirror. The blush had faded. Her cheeks had returned to their normal color but she still felt awkward. At the same time, this was something she really wanted to do. Drawing another deep breath. she walked toward the door. Opening it, she took a couple of steps into the living area before Aidan saw her. The expression on his face was....priceless.

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