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Over the past few months, we really were in a routine,maybe even a rut. I have to admit, much of it is my fault. I've beenplaying dress up since I was about eight years old. When I say dress up, Idon't mean that I dressed up like a cowboy or anything like that. I meanthat I dressed up in the prettiest clothes I could find. My sister'sdresses, my mom's lingerie, you name it- if it was girly, I was wearingit. So after Beth and I were married, I started becoming curious again.I've been craving the feeling of satin, of stockings, of high heels. I hadthrown away all my girly stuff after we were married; I was too afraid shewould find it. I was madly in love with her and hoped all of thosefeelings would vanish. They did not.It started when shopping at Victoria's Secret for her birthday. I decidedto buy a few items for myself. She would see the credit card charge andknow I bought something for her, she wouldn't know if I added a littlecami and some panties for myself. That was my first. For the most of the day, they didn't bother me, nor did I bother them, but at night, at the dining hall we were together on the same table. Pleasantries were exchanged, and they asked me to join them in the night while they arrange a bonfire in the garden, and have a couple of drinks with them. I gladly accepted. The bonfire was not a great site, but the guys had some dark rotgut rum from their locality, one of them was playing a guitar, and all of them were very nice, almost flirting with me. I am 35, and divorced for quite some time, and was enjoying this masculine attention, and the rum, watered down was tolerable, so I ended up staying up for a lot more time than I intended to, and it suddenly started raining. When it rains in the hills, it just pours, and we ran to the nearest shelter possible, a thatched structure without walls but with benches and a makeshift table, most likely a sight-seeing point of a sort, besides the lonely road. By the time we reached there, we were.