The plan was executed whilst they were bathing. He was placing his toe in her cunt playfully, as was his wont. 'Let's be friends', she announced, seemingly spontaneously.
'We are friends', he replied and splashed her.
'Girlfriends', she mocked sarcastically, 'ya know'?
Game for fun, he acquiesced. They got out the bath and towelled each other dry. Normal routine.
Let play begin.
She led him by the hand to the bedroom and to his surprise withdrew clothes from the wardrobe he did not recognise. Sensuously she lubed him down, his body, warm from the bath, glistened. As base, she clothed him in his familiar catsuit which clung to his familiar shape. She added a bra in pink latex which he had not seen, and filled it's cups with silicone shapes. Pink matching latex knickers completed his underwear, they had frills on the rear in white, creating an ingenue image. The latex stockings she rolled up his legs were white too, with a fishnet pattern. His skirt was black latex, pinstriped with white and pencil slim 'because darling, you have the shape for it'. The latex blouse was white and blouson. She unbuttoned it until it reached his faux cleavage. He could see his bra peeping up at him. With effort, since she was unused to it, she completed the ensemble with a waistcincher, black, some would say classic.
Then, enlisting his eager help, she dressed similarly. Though her underwear was black and her skirt more full. It was his pleasure to run his hands over her, but she tutted her disapproval as 'too far for friends'.
She sat him at the mirror and applied make-up efficiently, but made him add his own lipstick. Then she made up her own face.
She topped his ensemble with a hood, transparent, and a wig, blonde to her dark. His make up was visible through the eyes and mouth of his hood.
He looked uncertainly in the mirror in their bedroom at the unfamiliar image before him. But goodness, he smelt good. He felt good.
'Right then', she said, matter-of-factly, 'I need milk. Coming'?
'erm, nope, I'll wait here'.
'Don't be boring, c'mon honey'. She grasped his hand, dragged him downstairs. Shoes awaited them both. Intolerable shoes for walking outdoors, perilously high, treacherously spiky. He'd never seen these shoes. But they fitted him.