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The shopping trip was every bit as bad as Simon expected. He spent so long browsing in the lingerie section of the first store, trying to pluck up courage to select the items he needed, that he was approached by an assistant who asked if she could help. His reply of “No, I’m just looking” made him sound like a pervert so he hurriedly moved out of that shop and into the one next door.

Learning from his mistakes, he decided to be more decisive in the second shop and quickly selected a pack of five cotton bikini-style panties, in pink and in his size, which he dropped into his shopping basket. Wasting no time, he moved along to the bra section and then to the racks holding the bras. Even amongst the white bras, the choice was bewildering with masses of garments in different sizes and slightly different styles – some underwired, some not, some seamless, some not, some with front fastenings, some back fastening, some strapless, some multiway, some conventional. It took several minutes, during which time his anxiety levels went sky-high and he felt himself panicking, before he spotted bras in the right design and sized 38C.

He picked one up to make sure it was right. Then he nearly wet himself when there was a tap on his shoulder. Turning quickly around, he was horrified to see James standing there, someone in the same football team as him. “What … what are you doing here?” Simon nervously inquired.

“You’re asking me what I’m doing here?” responded James. “I could ask the same of you. But it’s my girlfriend’s birthday next week so I buying her some sexy lingerie.” He delved into his basket and pulled out a lacy red bra with a matching thong and suspender belt. “What bostancı escort do you reckon?” he asked.

“Lucky girl – lucky you!” Simon replied in all honesty. James looked at him and clearly want to know what he was doing.

“Er, I’m also buying lingerie for my girlfriend. It’s her birthday soon,” replied Simon, wondering how crimson he had gone.

“It’s a bit plain, isn’t it?” said James. “She won’t be pleased when she sees what you’ve bought her. And pink knickers!” Uninvited by Simon, James had reached into his basket and pulled out the pack of briefs. “Not only boring, but a different colour. Women like to have every matching – and things that are really sexy. You’re making a mistake with this lot, Simon. You’ll end up in the dog house. Let me help you choose something.”

“No,” replied Simon, deeply concerned with how the conversation was going. “She wears this sort of stuff to work. I asked he what she wanted for her birthday and this is exactly what she wanted. I said it’s really dull and I wanted to buy her something more glamorous but she wouldn’t hear of it. She said she had to have this plain stuff and that we should be saving all the money we can for … er … for when we get married. So I’ve no choice but to buy her this, James.”

“I didn’t know you were getting married – you’ve kept that quiet! I hope she wears something sexier than this under her wedding dress,” laughed James.

“Don’t tell anyone we’re getting married – it’s still a big secret and you’re the first to know,” explained Simon, worried that this news might leak back to Emma.

“Mum’s the word, mate,” said James, putting a finger fatih escort on his lips. “I’ll leave you to it.”

Simon breathed a deep sigh of relief as James moved away in the direction of the cash desks. Quickly, Simon put three T-shirt bras of the right type into his basket before moving on to the camisole section, all the time keeping an eye open for anyone he knew and particularly James. Choosing the camisoles was easier and slightly less embarrassing for him. And once in the basket, they covered the panties and bras.

The three blouses were next and choosing those was a real challenge. There were a lot of white ones, but with most of them he knew that it would be impossible to disguise their femininity, even under his suit jacket and a tie. He eventually found three that might be suitable. They were cotton and of plain appearance without any extra embroidery or lacy bits although each was shaped to fit a female figure and had four vertical pleats at the front, two each side of the midline. He checked the buttons were on the left hand side, as required by Emma, and also that he would be able to wear them a tie with them. The sleeves were three quarter length but that couldn’t be helped.

Finally, he picked up a pack of black pantyhose in his size. He now had everything he needed apart from the pantyliners which he decided to get from a pharmacy on his way home. Wasting no time, he hurried to a check-out desk, choosing one staffed by a more mature woman who, he thought, was less likely to ask him questions.

How wrong he was! The middle-aged assistant proved to very chatty. “Afternoon, love,” she said, as started to pull the items bağcılar escort from the bag. “Oh my, you’ve got a lot here, haven’t you. Not for you, are they?” she laughed. “Sorry, love, I’m only joking!” she added.

He could have kept quiet, but he felt obliged to say something. Thinking on his feet he replied, “For my wife. She’s been ill. She’s better now but has lost a lot of weight and her old clothes don’t fit any more. She asked me to get this lot for her. It’s really embarrassing.” He tried to make a little laugh but it came out as a snort.

“Yes, it must be embarrassing, love. Not many husbands would do that – mine wouldn’t. It would have been less embarrassing for you if she’d ordered it online, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes,” he replied, “I’ll tell her that for next time.”

The assistant went through each item checking the size. “Oh! This bra is a 36C but the other two are 38C. Have you picked up the wrong size, love?”

Going red, he responded, “Must have done.”

She handed it to him. “Go and change it while I scan the other items.”

Wishing the ground would swallow him up, he walked across the store carrying the 36C white T-shirt bra and then, having swapped it, came back with a 38C. When he arrived at the check-out the assistant was chatting to a young women who had joined the queue behind him. “They’re not his, love,” she felt obliged to explain. “He’s getting them for his wife.” In a whisper she added, “She’s been ill and lost weight.”

Perhaps the assistant believed his story but it was evident to Simon that the other customer most certainly didn’t. He glanced at her and she slowly shook her head, giving him a sneer of disapproval.

Relieved to get out of the shop, he set off back to Emma’s house, stopping en route for his pantyliners. He had already worked out that he would say they were for his wife if asked. However, it seemed that it wasn’t unusual for men to buy pantyliners so the purchase was uneventful.

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