She had my belt undone and when I tried to help her unbutton my pants she slapped my hands away and said ‘Mine!’ while looking up at me with a wic...ed smile again. What happened next I will try to explain. She got my pants open and reached in and pulled my cock out and smiled at it and said ‘Nice’. I am not a large man but like any man I have measured myself and am about seven inches long. My blessing is that it is thicker than the average cock and fills a woman up nicely. She looked it over for. "Well I wanted to wear more. So I went into your closet and grabbed a nice skirt with a wide black belt and a mauve blouse. Then to a drawer and got a slip;panties and stuffed a bra with socks. When I looked into a full length mirror I had the most amazing; baffling; exited feeling. Since then I would dress up when you went out to shop or bingo. I hope you are not upset about it." How could I be upset with a son who so likes the way I dress he dresses the same?" No I am not angry at all. I am. We had both grown up together, her into a magnificent horse with a white coat, almost a brilliant ivory, made more so by the black socks of her forelegs.“How’s it going, Your Highness?” my maid asked. She peeked over the wooden wall from Prancer’s stall. “I’m ready to go.”“Almost there,” I said. Greta had actual experiencing saddling a horse. She grew up on a farm before she found work in my father’s castle first as a scullery maid and then as my bedmaid. She enjoyed riding Prancer, a gelding,. And there everything could have finished, except I was still horny, on a sunny summer's day with little else to do. So a couple of hours later, my breakfast eaten and the papers read (all done while idly caressing my re-stiffening prick), I flicked through my wardrobe. Finding a suit that could conceivably require a clean and press, I finally dressed myself, going commando in just an old white linen shirt and a baggy pair of khaki shorts. Any cockwatcher nearby would tell you that I was.