When I woke up the following morning, I immediately became aware of the situation. It was difficult not to notice the pretty white cotton and lace nor the fact that I was wearing it. I quickly recalled the events of the previous night, feeling ashamed at having been caught masturbating. I knew that Beatrice somehow wanted to make a point by telling me to wear her nightdress, but I had no clue why.

I rolled over to see her watching me. She was wide awake, looking as beautiful as ever with her light green eyes and long blonde hair, but her pretty mouth wasn’t smiling. Instead, she had that same determined look like the previous night.

“You do know why you’re wearing that, don’t you?” she asked solemnly.

“Not really,” I answered honestly, “Something to do with last night?”

“Everything to do with last night.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you a sissy boy?”

“No!”

“I think you are a sissy boy, John. I think you like to get off while wearing girls’ clothing.”

“No…” I started to say, trying to think of an appropriate excuse.

“Somebody enjoys it,” she said, smiling at last and holding my swollen shaft through the cotton.

She got up on her knees and lifted the nightdress, straddled me and pushed the tip of my cock inside her pussy. I lay there watching her in awe while she bounced around on my dick, rodeo style. Her beautiful blonde hair flicked rhythmically through the air as she ground me. I grabbed hold of her buttocks and pulled down hard, trying to force as much of my manhood as I possibly could inside her. I felt bigger than ever. Within moments I felt the stream of her cum juices flowing over my groin. She let out a scream, her tummy expanding and contracting in a spasm as she spent herself on my pole. She pulled away and lay down on her side with her back to me.

I spooned up against her, my throbbing shaft pressing between her buttocks. I know better than to try to penetrate her, so instead I just held her tightly until we both fell asleep. I loved the smell and feel of her hair brushing against my face, and the warmth of her soft skin pressed gently against me.

---

“Get out of that thing,” said Beatrice, glaring down at me.

I looked up to see Beatrice standing over me. She was clearly agitated. Once again I quickly realized that I was wearing her nightdress and immediately understood that she wasn’t happy about it. I sat up and pulled it over my head, tossing it aside on the bed.

---

Later in the week, we were having dinner at a local Italian restaurant when Beatrice broached the topic once again.

“I spoke to Jennie about you,” she said.

“What about me?” I answered.

I knew what she meant. It had been like an elephant in the room, ever since she’d caught me.

I just didn’t know how to start a conversation about it. It was unimaginable for me to admit that my kink was real. Worse, she had now shared the details with her best friend. I was blushing like crazy.

“She says you’re probably a sissy boy. She’s read about it.”

“It’s not true.”

“I told her all about it, John. I’ve never felt you as hard as when you were wearing my nightie. Jennie says that’s a sure sign that you have a penchant for femininity. She thinks you might even be gay. Are you gay?”

“No!” I almost shouted.

“Calm down, John.”

“Sorry, I’m not gay.”

“I told her you probably aren’t gay. It was quite funny really. We started thinking of names for you.”

“What kind of names?”

“Girls names, for when you dress up as a girl.”

“But, I don’t dress up as a girl. I was just wearing your panties.”

“And my nightdress. Next, it will be pantyhose, dresses, skirts and blouses. Only, it will be on my terms.”

I looked at her, still blushing profusely. I wondered what she meant about “on her terms.” She saw my confusion and leaned forward across the table, pressing her face close to mine. She whispered softly.

“Listen, Maryanne, it’s clear that one of us is in control here. Don’t you agree?”

“Yes.”

“Good, then you can be John most of the time, except when you’re Maryanne.”

I felt my cock swelling in my pants, precum dripping at the thought of her being in charge. She was determined but never forceful. She was simply guiding me in a direction that I’d never realized by myself. I felt grateful for the fact that she was investing time in me, even though I also felt deeply embarrassed about the fact that she’d openly discussed my crossdressing and sexuality with her friend Jenny.

---

I took the pink chiffon nightgown and slipped it over my head before getting into bed. Beatrice curled up beside me, softly stroking my chest through the material.

“Is Maryanne going to be a good girl?” she asked.

“Yes,” I answered quietly.

She straddled over me with her back to me, pressing her buttocks down on my face. I gently licked her tight little pussy while she pulled up the nightdress and engulfed the throbbing head of my cock between her delicate lips. I loved the feel of her mouth sucking on me, her tongue swirling ravenously over the swollen ridges of my shaft. Even more, I loved the sweet juiciness of her swollen clitoris and the stream of her warm cum filling my mouth as she pressed down hard on my lips.

She turned around and sat on my shaft, looking down at me with wild abandon. Her hair was wet, and her face was dripping with sweat. I had never seen her in such a state. She pumped up and down so hard that I thought I might hurt her, but I didn’t. Instead, I filled her.