ACT 2Dear reader, this is my marriage:We had been married for 15 years. He was as conventional as white bread, aFord pickup truck, and blue jeans, Lev...s or Wrangler. He was straight asan arrow. I was quite happy with that. I thought he was too. I was wrong.When my husband first approached me about his fetish, I didn't know whatto make of it."I want to dress up as a sissy French maid and clean the house everyweekend."Not once would I have ever expected this from him. It took me minutes toraise. But the volume had gone down as he explained. It was an interesting explanation, at least to Riley, as she listened to him describe in copious - and completely false - detail how he met Riley while he was on vacation, and had seen her stranded on the road with a flat tire. He talked about how he'd changed the tire for her, and been invited for coffee as a result. Then he spun a tale of mixed truth and fiction about their long range acquaintance, and how, when he'd left his job ("I can't tell. I think maybe we will all chip in a dollar, and use themoney to buy snacks. We can get a few big bags of popcorn at the dollarstore, and then use paper plate bowls to share with our friends. But wewill have to work a bit. We have to leave the place spotless at the end,so that means vacuuming and putting the chairs all back neatly. I thinkyou guys will like the big vacuum cleaner. It is an industrial model."By now most of them were finished eating, and the chess boys pulled outtheir Euchre deck.. Pulling my head to his, he kissed my cheek. It's not that hard to do, he said laughing. He took my hand and placed it on his stiff dick. He cupped my hand and closed my fingers around it. It felt rubbery. He moved my hand up and down slowly. Just like that, he said. After a couple minutes he spread his legs and took my other hand. As he raised his ball sack he laid my hand under it. As he set them back down he showed me what he wanted me to do. I was nervous. I didn't want to hurt him by.