A Borrowed Wife the Covid Camper

...First getting inside of my car it had the ever so slight lingering aroma of arousal, but I may have been the only one to actually smell this with my very sensitive nose. To be fair, the air had been unintentionally bottled up inside my car with the windows closed, so I suppose this was on me either way. "Did hubby smell such and come to the erroneous conclusion that Ken and I stopped off someplace for a backseat 'quicky' on the way up to collect him; almost like horny teenagers might?" I wondered belatedly. If so, he seemed more than okay with this too, so super accepting of Ken both taking and having me pretty much at will now...

Getting my androgynously attired husband back home hadn't been the ordeal I initially thought it might be either, so almost "business as usual" for nearly the entire trip, appearances to the contrary. It obviously wasn't the full-feminine costume along the lines of what he'd playfully worn as my maid several times, but it most certainly wasn't anything traditionally masculine either. So, fair to say that with both different glasses and hair it might be hard to determine what proverbial club he was in, at a distance while casually looking anyway; but not necessarily this time.

It was also under the cover of darkness by that time though, and he also sat in the tinted-windows back of my car by default, with Ken riding "shotgun" in front and next to me just like we drove up together; like a husband also might be. Ken was "manning-up" and taking his place here too, and fair to assume I wasn't the only one to notice this either

This was actually practical too though, Ken knew this route better than I did, and I genuinely appreciated his back-up navigation in the dark. This was more self-deportation on my uniquely dressed husband's part, and while peeking on him in my rear view mirror my thoughts were brewing wildly on how to build on this little clothing mishap to make this upcoming sequestered vacation of his truly extraordinary.

He was impossibly receptive to the way I had been forced to dress him, even in front of Ken, optional sports bra and all, so this had actually turned into an unforeseen opportunity; just like Ken had suggested it might. I simply never would have gone this specific route with him, most especially with Ken in attendance, if of course our unique circumstances didn't demand such.

Anyway, we all had to stop on the way home for a restroom break to part with our coffee, and my husband did actually use the male facilities; a stall in his case for a bit of necessary privacy. He drew a bit of side-eye male attention with his unique outfit as well, perhaps even as much as my shirtdress did; but it was all in fun.

At first I feared that any "public-aspect" to this little adventure might make this situation a bit less than fun for hubby, as taking this little "fem-him-up" act out in public was a definite ground-breaking first, even at night. I also noticed the male attention he drew, as did Ken, and wishing to playfully taunt my husband, Ken convinced me to quickly move my car to the very back part of the parking area, all while hubby was still busy inside one of the stalls, trying like hell to be discreet.

I backed into this new distant parking spot so we both could watch the show when my husband eventually came out and realized my car was gone; and the look on his face when he did, priceless! Ken caught it all on his phone's very nice camera in the well-lit parking lot, and even his looking around exaggerated "OH SHIT!" body-language that was pure physical-comedy.

"Blackmail possibility?" I wondered, even if only playfully applied to "make" him do something he really wanted to do anyway; there was just so much one could do with a video like that! Nothing truly evil mind you, but something a bit playful that took away his other easier choices was maybe on the proverbial horizon at some point, especially if he responded to our taunting in a positive manner.

It was but a few long seconds before I flashed my headlights and drew my androgynously dressed husband's attention; Ken filming and narrating with snarky commentary the entire time. We made my husband walk the whole length of the parking lot in his borrowed pink flip flops and skin-tight yoga pants to get to my car; so much fun.

...His face had lit right up in relief when he first saw us, and once within a few feet of my car he even hammed up his steps, swishing his hips and flopping his limp-wrist in exaggerated femininity for both Ken's phone and my eyes, and as it turned out one other pair of eyes too. I playfully even locked my car's doors when he pulled the handle the first time, all so he'd have to ask nicely for a ride home; it was that kind of a fun interaction for all of us.

It's all he could talk about on the rest of the ride home, he was just so animated and alive once again; something wonderful to see with his ongoing "guy-problems." So, while obviously a bit uncomfortable and "out-there" on some level, there was an undeniable "something" within him that maybe liked being put on display like this, being forced to perform a bit more publicly.

It was a minor ordeal in the big scheme of things, but there was no mistaking his elation at having survived it unscathed. No wallet, nor even his cellphone in his possession, as my borrowed yoga pants were the kind that didn't have pockets for either, (actually one inside the waistband that he must have missed being unfamiliar with the garment) so he was totally dependent on "our" charity in giving him a ride home. I suppose hitchhiking was another potential option, but in a risk vs reward calculation truly not wise.

Obviously not something for a man with an easily bruised masculine ego that needs to be pumped all the time, but that's simply not my husband, most certainly with what he's going on lately with his recent guy-problems. Men get overt masculinity and confidence from their working guy parts, it's simply part of who they are; our limited chastity-play had already taught me that. This man-disfunction thing he has going on is a bit different than chastity-play too though, so crashing-testosterone ruining both his desire and ability, not building it up in desperation like going a few weeks in chastity without an orgasm did... even just a few short "pre-covid" years earlier...

So, to get back on track, story-wise, this crazy vacation-thing with Ken obviously looks like it's actually going to happen, Ken passed the proverbial audition, and in a way so did hubby in his submissive supporting role. The rest of the ride home was uneventful, and once back home for just a few days we're at the point where we can't alter the arrangements any longer; so simply put, Ken has a plane ticket, and hubby doesn't. Therefore hubby needs to be made to disappear for everybody's best interest, and our camper is actually perfect for this, designed specifically for off the grid comfort up in the proverbial middle of nowhere, and out of both sight and mind on Ken's remote land.

"We've never done something like this for two weeks straight before though; hubby hasn't ever been abandoned for near that long, nor have Ken and I been together, nonstop, for that long either. So, lots of firsts coming our way in the very near future; ready or not," I tell myself. It goes like this for us sometimes, a crazy naughty concept for adult-fun is one thing, but the practical reality, with all those little necessary details to be synchronized and sorted out, is obviously something else.

Hubby has actually been on remote job assignments for longer in the past though, so the precedent for us being away from each other does exist (a few times while also playfully locked in chastity) although not ever with Ken in the mix, as back then he'd been happily married at the time to wife number one. When hubby got home from those trips it was "game-on" too though, like we couldn't get enough of each other; but that was also long before his man-problems too...

So in the here and now, (with the few days left we have together) there's just a certain feeling in the house between hubby and I; the day of departure marked on our calendar marching ever closer as I cross each day off in giddy anticipation. I'm going on an awesome vacation someplace I've always wanted to go, but with a willing and able manly playmate; so a vacation of another kind as well from my own near-celibacy.

Hubby is to have a far different experience, although the celibacy part will unfortunately be about the same for him no matter where he lays his head; that's not necessarily my fault, but it's still a bit unfair for such a genuinely kind man. He volunteered for this ticket-swap though, specifically asked for it, but my conscience is still in doubt on some of the finer details; the times I'm paying attention to my conscience that is.

It's hard to put to words, but a "growing distance" between us maybe explains part of what I'm feeling; and to be fair here not all of that is coming from my husband. Not that it's exactly the same emotional feeling, but it's like when you've given notice at one job, but haven't physically left yet, something we playfully call "short-timer" syndrome at the office.

So I have an idea or two now for how this "ordeal" can be uniquely challenging and still fun for hubby too, but I keep coming back to wanting his consent, for my own conscience if nothing else. I float two similar last minute ideas for his two week marooning upstate in our camper; in one I use Ken's own mischief as inspiration and Ken and I strip him nude and dump him off just like that, with just a pair of sneakers to protect his feet. He likes being nude anyway, so much so that back in our teenage-days we sometimes teased him by calling him "nature-boy." The second option is we dump him off with a suitcase of his own, to be privately packed by me though, and seeing how naturally my borrowed clothes fit him gives me a pretty good idea what I should pack; so primarily "hand-me-downs" from the back of my closet.

I'll have no control over him wearing, or for that matter not wearing what's in that suitcase of his, so the suitcase option could obviously morph into the nude option too; without daily supervision. Two weeks is a long time without any clothing though, (recent reality shows notwithstanding) it's still warm enough out this time of year during the day, but also chilly at night, especially up north. He'll likely have to make a few trips all the way down to the stream to gather replenishment water for the camper too though, and something to wear might be good insurance in case somebody happens to see him that far from the camper. At a distance, even without makeup, he's quite passable as he's not terribly tall or heavy, so this still works as a viable disguise.

It's also Ken private property though, so there shouldn't really be anybody wandering around to accidentally see him no matter how he's dressed, but that's not a guarantee that it won't happen anyway. For hubby, the taboo thrill of being stripped and dumped off someplace really twists him up, but in a good way. It's the helplessness, the potential humiliation, he tells me it just pushes his proverbial submissive-kink buttons. Remove the clothes and you remove the masculine costume, (especially these days for him) and what's left is the fragile human beneath. My husband is just more naturally submissive when he's kept nude too, something both Ken and I have observed and used to our mischievous advantage over the years.

No personal human interaction for two weeks, no matter how one is dressed, is a very long time though, such could drive him bat-shit crazy without something to stimulate his naturally curious mind. So, he'll at least have his personal phone for texting with us to intermittently ensure his sanity, but the speed and stability of the limited signal up there makes the internet frustratingly slow with it's perpetual buffering, or so Ken has already told me. So no "the world instantly at your fingertips" world wide web for him, but there are other ways to occupy an active mind.

The other potential problem is who to contact if something should go sideways, and how, if of course the phones don't work reliably? In a true survival-emergency you'd call or text the authorities via 911 and let the chips fall where they may, (I'm told that such calls have the highest priority on every cell tower) but something short of that and still requiring outside intervention is more my concern...

Putting that thought temporarily aside for a moment I have a Kindle, and yes I do read some racy things on it as there are like a million eBooks on the subject, so I download several with related themes for hubby; cuckold, hubby-submission, and "wife on an overnight date with boyfriend" scenarios prevail, because he's my husband and I know first-hand what turns him on. Then one titled "Dressed And Maid To Serve" with a quite passable cross dressed maid-husband as the cover art, which is near enough to what we've actually done in the flesh within our home. Inspiration for our potential future, or just to confirm for hubby that our unique playful kink maybe isn't all that unique; who knows, perhaps a bit of both if he's receptive?

Now in our specific maid's-games he was made to serve me exclusively, which was an appreciated break from house-chores for me at the time; but only in small doses as it's not something I could do every day. Not to make excuses, but I just have to be in a certain mood myself to play like that with hubby, (it's truthfully exhausting) and these days "little-hubby" doesn't really want to play along either, so no physical "reward" for his labors, nor obviously for mine in a more traditional way.

Yes, he selflessly does for me in the ways that he presently can, but these days the passion is also lacking. For me there's just no substitute for passion, for the real "pin my arms to the bed and make me struggle and squeal" thing either. Ken's open availability once again has reminded me of all this, (of what I'm missing out on) and this time it's not hubby "choosing" not to participate for the sheer cuckold-kink of wife-sharing, but his physical inability to participate that has landed the three of us here together.

So without the passion even fantastic oral is just not something I'm drawn to naturally do with him any longer, unless my own desperation gets the best of me, and even then it's a "this will do to scratch that particular itch" kind of mentality. So like drinking water when you're thirsty, good for what it is I suppose, but maybe something with a bit more flavor and kick is what you're really after...

So despite vowing not to ask any longer, I do so anyway, and I ask hubby if he's into an extended game along the lines of the maid-games we've played in the past. I'm trying to get my mental ducks in a row here, settle this little detail so I can have my fun with Ken as guilt-free as humanly possible while choosing a well known lover over a dysfunctional husband. This maid-thing isn't something I could do for him back at home for two weeks straight for several reasons, but he still won't commit and instead tells me passively that he want's me to decide for him. Not exactly what I want from him though, (it's a battle of wills that I'm unfortunately losing) as I want him to have some input into this; for my own purposes I want to do this for him, not to him.

I therefore want him to tell me verbally what he wants to do, or at least what he'll actually do and still like, and he's just not playing along; it's exasperating. I obviously have a really good idea what he might like to be "made" to do, but I won't personally be there to see how he handles this little adventure hour by hour, day by day. Such limited feedback, (potentially via text message only) would naturally lead a loving soul like myself to pick something for him that can't possibly offend him, nor crash his long-term kink-motivations to play along.

The likely problem with doing it that way, (for my very unique and giving husband specifically) is the only thing guaranteed will be a boring "sentence" of two weeks in solitary confinement in a remote prison cell, (albeit a comfortable one) and this just isn't the experience I want him to have. He's personally giving so much for Ken and I to have this illicit experience together, he simply deserves so much more than just being marooned by himself someplace, with nothing to occupy his mind other than what's he's given up personally for a friend in need, not to mention his needy wife.

...I know, I know, cuckolds have this love-hate, yin-yang thing going on with the whole self-created cuckold angst emotional turmoil, they both crave and seek-out that specific gut churning feeling; even though it's painful in it's own unique way. It's truthfully something I don't one hundred percent get, but that doesn't mean it's not real for him, nor that I won't try to provide such for him just as richly as he can stand it either. So in short, if he want's a twisted-up, wife on an extended vacation with another man mind-fuck, I'll give him one like never before...

I then try a different tack, and I ask him a bit more directly if he could play maid, or at least dress up fem for the entire time he's up there in the camper. I explain my two-part reasoning; there's no time like the present to try out his submissive female alter-ego in extended fashion, and if anyone happens to see him at a distance, he's just an anonymous woman in a camper, all alone, not somebody naked and in distress that needs "rescue."

His face tells me the answer even before his lips can, this is obviously exciting for him, but exciting to be "forced" to do it, therefore making me do this "to him," with no masculine options otherwise. Ken's the major complication in going "full-fem" like this here though, as I don't necessarily want to share this "dressing-up" aspect of hubby's submission to me; it's our little personal game just between us... but more on that in just a bit.

This is really taking me out of my own personal comfort zone though, but I also know "forced" to do anything sexual turns my husband on mentally, even if he can't necessarily take that to the expected "happy-ending" manly physical conclusion these days. I want him to have a very special one of a kind experience here too though, and done this way it will still be as private as I can manage, and far longer, nonstop, than I could ever have managed at home for him as well; so total immersion in his faux-feminine persona. Maybe he loves it, maybe he hates it instead, but if the latter he can always revert to being our "nature boy" and doing his ordeal in the nude too.

"Am I providing for a one-time "bucket-list" extended feminine experience for him, or encouraging an audition for the next sexless part he want's to perhaps play in my life a bit more permanently?" I should have asked myself; but truthfully it didn't occur to me at the time.

With my last-minute decision finally made (and my proverbial ducks finally in a proper row, freeing me to have fun myself) I tell him that I need to go last-minute shopping, and I ask if there is anything special that he'd like, as in to eat, or even be "compelled" to wear. With my short list made I go to the shopping mall first, and I buy what I think will fit him based on what I know he already wears and fits into for me in his maid's persona, mixed in with some of my own "hand-me-downs" that he can squeeze his little ass into. Just like my borrowed yoga pants they will fit him, his ass tiny compared to my own more womanly one.

He has a stylish short bob wig already from his maid's alter-ego persona, and it wasn't a cheap synthetic one either, so it actually looks fairly natural and passing on him, most especially if he ditches his masculine eyeglasses and wears his contacts; so we'll go with that as his singular feminine hairstyle. I like the way the wig compliments his facial features and hides his ringless ears, and my original thinking, (back when I initially bought it to be worn with his maid's uniform) was that if somebody accidentally saw him in our windows, they'd likely think he was the real-deal and we hired on a part-time maid. His "uniform" was a bit on the leggy-short side to make that a straight-up real-world possibility, but it was better than nothing. Not something one would really expect to see in our working-class neighborhood, but neither was my husband being fully dressed as my maid with short "guy-hair" and cleaning my house for me like a slave.