This was so weird, Mark kept saying to himself as he cleaned up the dishes and loaded the dishwasher. Every time he bent over to put in a dish or piece of silverware, his damned tits shifted and felt like they were about to pop right out the top of his blouse. Then when he stood up again, they'd shift back downward heavily, but the top exposed portions continued to jiggle. Guys are not supposed to jiggle. "And you can just knock it off!"
"Knock what off," Sally smiled ingenuously.
"These are supposed to be your boobs, stop staring at them!"
Sally was having a grand ole time just sitting and watching Mark. He still bent over like a man does, using just his waist and providing a show with every movement. Each time Mark bent over, Sally found herself holding her breath in anticipation that this time, Mark would flump right out of his top.
After loading the last dish, Mark stood up smugly. He knew what Sally was doing, hell he should have been the one doing it to her. Before he could formulate a withering comment, the phone rang.
"Kendle residence," Mark said melodically.
"Yes sir Mr. Brachman. I can ..."
"My husband? Oh, oh my husband! Oh, uh, yes just a moment while I get her. Him! While I get him."
Carefully holding down the mute button on the phone, Mark waved Sally over in a Panic. "Quick, this is Mr. Brachman. He's a senior vice president at my company. You have to be me! Just be respectful and agree to whatever he wants. We don't call him Darth Vader for nothing.
"Mr Brachman, how can I help you," Sally said in a confident deep voice.
Mark was silently mouthing "what ... what" while Sally waved him off.
"No problem, considered it handled," Sally finally said and hung up the phone.
"What did he want," Mark practically squeaked in panic?
"He said that a representative for the Kydnar Agency was flying in and would need some hand holding. He wants you to do it."
"Holy crap! That's a major major client. This could be the opportunity of a lifetime! Oh my god! Details! What are the details? Where? When? What else did he say?"
"Well he said that there would be a lot of socializing and to bring my cute sounding ditsy wife," Sally laughed.
"Ha ha. Laugh it up. This is our future you're playing with. These things are often short notice. How much time after we switch back will we have? Where do we have to go?"
"About that," Sally said.
Mark's eyes grew wide in panic. "No no no. Please tell me we can do this!"
"We can do this. Reservations have already been made. Go grab a quick shower, and I'll pack our bags. Our flight to Las Vegas leaves in a little over four hours."
"Four hours? Four hours! But that means that I ..."
"Get a move on girl. We have to check in and get through security."
Sally went to retrieve the suit cases with a spring in her step. This was going to be fun!
By the time Mark had gotten out of the shower, which had been very frustrating because he didn't have the time to do the explorations he was dying to do, time was getting short.
"I've packed both our bags and laid out clothes for you to wear," Sally said waving in the general direction of the bed as she squeezed by Mark and jumped in the shower. "Tick tock! We need to move!"
Mark looked at the bed and cursed. Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, Mark grimaced and began to put on the clothes Sally had laid out for him. He'd watched his wife dress often enough that he knew how to go about it, but it felt queer doing it. He knew to roll the panty hose in order to get them on. He knew to turn the bra around backward to connect it then back again to struggle into it. The dress was easiest of all. Just pull it on and wiggle it into place. The only problem was that it made him feel half naked. The hem line stopped above his knees and his chest left a whole lot of cleavage exposed. Last but not least were the shoes, if you could call them that. Four inch heels that threatened to kill him when he tried walking until he figured out that he had to shorten his stride to keep from trying to balance all his weight on that tiny pointed heel.
"Wow, I never realized I looked so good in that outfit," Sally said as she buttoned the last button on her shirt and grabbed the suitcases. "No time! We need to hurry."
Mark felt like he was in a twisted dream as he hurried after his wife. She was carrying both bags effortlessly and he was teetering along behind in heels and a short dress. 'Maybe he'd wake up in a moment,' he thought as he connected the seat belt and moved the strap so that it passed between his breasts instead of mashing them. It was a good thing too, because Sally accelerated backward out of the driveway, mashing him into the restraint before shifting forward and roaring off toward the airport.
