The Honey-Do List

[Lizard]

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Forward

I've debated whether to post this as a blog, or as a
serial (installment) story. As it is non-fiction, and
ongoing, the decision was not obvious, but I've decided
to post it as a serial assuming that the readership will
be greater than as a blog. As you read, you will
understand that I am not in control of events which are
accounted for here and the next installment will come
when it does. Please have patience -- if it were up to
me there'd be a new chapter each day!
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THE HONEY-DO LIST

Somewhere, hidden in my wife's things, there is a jar.
The jar, and old peanut butter jar I think, contains a
bunch of folded bits of paper. In that jar you might
expect to find a collection of "honey-do" household
tasks for me to accomplish, but my wife's "honey-do" jar
contains dares.

As it tickles her fancy, my wife will pull a dare from
the jar and present it to me with instructions like
"while I'm off having lunch with my mum tomorrow, you
need to see to this task." For me, just holding the
paper is enough to start the butterflies in my stomach.
Once she presents me with the paper I like to stew a
bit, and usually do not open it until the next morning;
sleeping like a child on Christmas eve waiting who
wonders what Santa might leave in their sock.

For the record, I am male, old enough to know better
(over 21) and married (if that wasn't obvious already).
What follows are my accounts of how each "honey-do"
played out.



THE MALL

Last night, as I was getting ready for bed, I could hear
my wife rustling round in her office. Contacts out,
teeth cleaned, I had just pulled my nightshirt over my
head when she appeared and leaned against the jamb of
the door that separates our bedroom from the bath. She
waited for me to finish adjusting my nightshirt, and
then handed me a folded piece of paper.

"I'm driving down to lunch with mum tomorrow," she
announced. "I'll expect that when I return you will have
accomplished the task."

She winked and smiled, then turned and crossed the room
to crawl into bed. I held the paper, folded and sealed
shut with a bit of tape, savoring the feeling and the
quickening of my heart as I began to ponder what I might
have to do. I laid the paper on the dresser, still
unopened, and joined my other half in between the sheets
and fell asleep letting my mind wander to all of the
things that I might be doing to "accomplish the task."

I woke to brilliant sunshine this morning and after my
shower I flicked open the dare that had spent the night
on my dresser. It read: "Go to the mall. You must try on
a skirt and bring me a picture."

I decided to do the dare at lunch and figured that it
wouldn't be all that difficult, at least until I started
to think about what store I might actually do the dare
in. The big department stores at our mall have their
men's and women's sections on different floors and the
sales people tend to get snippy when it comes to men
going into a dressing room that is in the women's
department. So, as I drove to the mall, I pondered which
of the smaller mall shops would be my target.

I walked the length of the mall, peering into each of
the possible stores to check out who might be shopping
and who was working. The mall was fairly empty, a few
shoppers here and there and what seemed minimal sales
people working. I finally decided on a trendy little
place, with two sales girls and a couple of shoppers,
went inside and began to scope out what my possibilities
were to be. What I hadn't realised, until I was well
into the store, was that it was completely juniors -- no
guy clothing what so ever, and I was standing out like a
sore thumb.

I could have turned tail and gone into one of the other
shops, but decided that I'd stay and pull it off where I
was. I made a circle through the store, and while there
were lots of dresses, I only saw one rack of skirts
which were micro-minis. They were cute, but I wanted to
avoid those if at all possible. Also, because it was a
junior's shop, I was going to have a tough time finding
something and getting into a changing room without
raising some suspicion, and as I wandered through the
store it became clear that the dressing rooms were
locked. The bottom line was that I was going to have to
ask for some help.

By this time both of the sales people were busy at the
register helping someone with a return. Lots of
paperwork and it seemed to take them a long time to
finish up. Two other girls came wandering in and seemed
to know one of the sales people; by now my little heart
was thumping pretty fast and as the customer at the desk
finished up, knowing that I was next, it seemed to race
even faster.

"Now or never," I thought and I walked up to the sales
counter. Speaking in what I hoped was a voice quiet
enough not to carry past the sales desk, I explained
that I had lost a bet (ok, so I fibbed a bit) and that I
had to try on a skirt at the mall. I asked if that would
be possible and if they'd be willing to help me out.

The looks on their faces were priceless. As I began,
there was definite trepidation in their eyes, but as I
got to the crux of the request their concern faded and
they tried to keep their grins to a minimum. After a
brief pause, with me wondering what they were really
thinking, one asked me to follow her. She led me to the
front of the store, fished round on a rack for a second
or two, and handed me a black skirt.

"The changing rooms are in the back" she said as she
started walking toward the rear of the store. I
followed; during our brief walk she asked if I was going
to have to take a picture to prove that I did the dare.
I answered "yes" as I thought to myself that maybe this
wasn't the first customer with such a request.

Once in side of the changing room I was relieved to see
that there was a mirror. I had feared that the only
mirror would be outside of the room and that I'd have to
step back into a public place wearing the skirt to snap
the picture. Relieved, I put on the skirt, stepped to
the edge of the room and snapped a picture as proof.

Dressed again in my own clothes, I left the skirt on a
rack in the back, and thanked the girls as I was
leaving. The butterflies in my stomach were still
circling as I got into my car and started the drive back
home.

It's hard to say what other dares are waiting for me in
the jar. All I can do is sit back and wait until another
"honey-do" is handed to me.

[driver1300]

Excellent. I love this idea. Your wife sounds great fun and it seems you are enjoying it too. Can't wait for the next post.

[Lizard]

DRIVING HOME FROM DINNER

Seems that the end of the year holidays create such a
stir round the house that neither my wife or I seem to
have any time to relax and have some fun. As a result of
the hustle and bustle, it had been a while since my
better half had selected a dare from the jar. Yesterday,
while I was sitting at the kitchen table having
breakfast, I was informed that since I was planning on
meeting a friend for dinner, I'd be taking on an
additional task while I was out.

Unlike last time, I was presented with the jar and told
to select my fate. I reached into the glass jar and
slowly chose one of the "honey-do" slips of paper.
Slowly I unfolded the paper to reveal my fate.

"Put on a skirt and panties," it read. "Go to McDonald's
and order something at the drive through. If you have to
wait behind another car, you must remove your panties
while in line."

On its own, this dare might not have been all that
difficult, but I was very reluctant about wearing a
skirt to meet a friend for dinner. After a bit of
negotiation, we agreed that I could change into the
skirt in the car after dinner. It'd be dark, but the
restaurant was one I'd not been to before, so there were
lots of unknowns about how "friendly" of an environment
for changing I was going to find. The drive home from
the restaurant was also much longer than the drive to
the local McDonald's would have been and that seemed to
make my wife quite happy.

So after work I kissed my wife good bye, and headed out
to meet my friend for dinner. The restaurant was about
30 minutes from the house, and on my way up I spotted a
McDonald's one junction before the restaurant which
would be perfect for my stop on the way home. Pulling
into the car park, I found a spot that I thought would
be secluded without being too obviously away from
everything else and thus good for my wardrobe change
later. As it turns out I was nearly right on that count.

Dinner was great, good food and a good time catching up
with a long lost friend, but before long I found myself
saying good bye and heading for the car. Climbing in, I
noticed that the car parked immediately in front of my
car was occupied -- looked like someone waiting for a
girlfriend to get off of work. Not wanting to attract
too much attention, I chickened out just a bit and moved
the car to a spot on the other side of the car park
where I would stop to change into my skirt.

Feeling somewhat guilty about having moved the car
before changing, I decided that I'd park directly below
a light pole rather than finding a darker spot; anybody
walking past would then have a clear view into the car
and there'd be no question as to what I was doing. Not
trying to rush too much, haste in these situations does
make waste, I kicked my shoes off, and slid out of my
jeans. I pulled the skirt up and after wrestling a bit
in the seat managed to get it on properly.

Beneath my jeans I was wearing tights, it's bloody cold
here right now, and I was faced with whether or not to
take them off before heading out. I finally decided that
given the late hour the chances weren't good that I'd
end up behind someone at the drive through, but if I was
unlucky and did, removing both tights and panties could
be a akin to a very bad dream. With that, I lifted my
butt off of the seat, hiked my skirt up a bit, and
tugged the tights down. Wrestling out of them in a
parked car, with the hand break on and not worrying
about moving along in the drive through lane, was tough
enough; getting out of them while paying attention to
drive through traffic and such would have been nearly
impossible. The car had been idling the whole time I was
changing, but it was still quite cold and now bare
legged I was quite cold.

Again I adjusted my skirt, put the car into first gear,
slowly maneuvered to the road, and a few seconds later
was rolling up to speed to merge with the traffic on the
highway. The McDonald's was just at the next junction so
the first leg of the trip home was going to be very
short. As I was about to get into the exit lane, I was
passed by a police car who then pulled in front of me
and also pulled onto the ramp to leave the highway. I
was all ready a bit on edge, but with a cruiser in front
of me started to get a bit paranoid; I certainly did not
want to make some little driving error that might get me
pulled over for a citation. Luck was with me; the keeper
of the peace turned left and my route to the drive
through took me to the right at the end of the ramp.

The moment of truth, number two, was now upon me. It was
nearly 9:00 p.m. and I was pretty confident that I'd not
have to wait behind another car in the drive through
lane thus keeping my panties on. As I pulled round the
back of the building I was indeed the only car in the
queue and I pulled immediately to the kiosk to give my
order. "Yes!" I thought to myself and placed my order
for a medium drink.

Order in, I slowly edged the car round to the side of
the building where the pick-up windows are, and to my
chagrin there sat a van at the first window. "Shit," I
muttered as I was now waiting behind the van in order to
pay for my beverage. The van must have gone round the
corner just before I pulled up to the kiosk, and without
question I, even if ever so briefly, was going to have
to wait for it.

I pulled to the first window and was met with a smile as
I passed a fiver through the open window to the cashier.
"Now or never," I thought as she turned to gather the
change from the till, and I quickly reached up under my
skirt, grabbed my panties by the crotch and pulled them
down. Of course I was trying to do this while looking as
innocent as possible knowing that the cashier was going
to turn back and look down into my car in order to hand
me my change; I really didn't want to be any more
obvious than necessary.

I had managed to get my panties just to my knees when
she turned back to the window and reached out with my
change. I stopped fiddling under my skirt, and took the
change from her giving her a big grin and a polite
"thank you" as I pulled forward to the next window. I'll
never know exactly what she saw, but I'm guessing she's
seen worse. The guy at the second window seemed off in
his own world, and if he noticed that this customer was
wearing a skirt, with pretty panties halfway off, he
didn't show it. I took the drink and pulled forward
enough to let the next car reach the pick-up window and
came to a stop. There I finished taking my panties off.

Now I was naked under my skirt, did I mention that I
really don't like going comando, I was soon pulling back
on the highway and heading for home. The rest of the
drive was uneventful. Traffic was light, and even if it
hadn't been, it was dark so those who passed me didn't
really have the chance to see anything; not that there
was much to see.

My wife met me at the door and immediately checked to
see if I had had to wait at the drive through. As for
completing my dare, lets just say that I was nicely
rewarded.

[Lizard]

DOUBLE DARE

With the coming, and going, of spring, things more
important than doing dares have taken priority -- well,
until yesterday. I was sitting on the sofa, reading the
news, when my wife appeared in the room with the dare
jar in her hand. I knew what it meant, but I did not
anticipate that she would announce that since it had
been a while, I'd need to go off and accomplish two
tasks. She reached in and took one of the folded pieces
of paper, then handed me the jar to extract my second
fate.

I handed her the paper and watched her facial expression
change to an evil grin as she unfolded and silently read
the words on each piece of paper. She looked up, paused
another couple of seconds for dramatic effect, and
announced that these worked well together; only a slight
change would be needed to combine them into a single
dare.

Dare number one, as it was originally written, was to
put on a pair of low-rise jeans over top of a pair of my
wife's black lace panties. To complete the outfit, I'd
wear a t-shirt that was likely to expose the waistline
of my jeans when I sat. Wearing this outfit, I was to go
to the local book seller's, which also has an espresso
bar, order a coffee and sit for 20 minutes. The dare
indicated both the row of tables where I was to sit and
that I was to sit forward in the chair, leaning on the
table whilst reading my book. I was to read, and enjoy a
coffee, for 20 minutes while it would be pretty certain
that the waist band of the panties would be in plain
view.

The second dare was for me to go to a local department
store and purchase a pair of lacy panties. After making
my purchase, and back in my car, I was then to change
into those panties before driving away.

As my wife read this dare aloud, I sensed exactly how
she was going to combine these -- rather than starting
out in a pair of her panties, I'd be changing in the car
park, and then going to the book seller's for my coffee.
She was right; by luck, these two dares fit perfectly
together.

I changed and received an approving smile that indicated
the t-shirt and jeans that I selected met her
expectations. My jeans were low rise and slightly too
big in the waist; I was not allowed a belt. The t-shirt
I selected was plain black and just touched the waist of
my jeans when I stood normally. A kiss good-bye and I
was in the car and off to the store.

Once at the store I slowly made my way to the women's
department. Trying to be inconspicuous, yet trying to be
quick about it, I hastily considered all of my options.
My instructions were that the panties had to have a lacy
waistband; the style of panty didn't matter beyond that.
They also had to be either red or pink. Feeling like
every eye in the store was watching me, I selected a
pink pair of bikini panties with a lacy waistband, and
headed for the checkout.

At the checkout I queued up for the grey haired sales
women figuring she would be less likely than the younger
sales gal to give me any curious looks, or comment,
about my purchase. The lady in front of me had a fair
number of items, and as I was waiting patiently, the
young sales person finished helping her customer and
called for me to step over to her till. Not wanting to
draw unnecessary attention, I did so and tried to act
like my purchase was ordinary. I could feel my heart
rate quicken, but she made no comment as she rang the
total out on the register. Finally they were paid for,
placed into a small plastic bag, and I was on my way
back to the car.

The department store shares it's car park with a few
other stores including an office supply and shoe store.
On a bright Saturday afternoon, needless to say, it was
fairly busy. I had parked away from the majority of the
cars, but not so far into the outer reaches of the
pavement that I might attract the attention of any
security who happened to be watching over things.
Reaching the car I climbed in and took a quick look
round to see what the danger of being spotted was. I
noticed just one woman behind and a few spaces over from
my car who was fussing with the buckling of her toddler
into the car seat.

Again I felt like all of the world was watching as I
continued to look round while unfastening the button and
zipper of my jeans. Quickly I kicked my sandals off and
slid my jeans and underwear down to my ankles. Looking
round once more, I bent over and wrestled my feet from
the jeans; something less than simple when sitting in
the car with the steering wheel in the way.

Briefly I sat back up and reached over to the passenger
seat for my new panties. Jeans on the floor at my feet,
totally naked from the waist down, and in broad
daylight; my heart was racing now. Panties in hand, two
cars drove slowly past, and fortunately neither of them
decided to park near to me.

I had to bend over again to get my feet through the
openings in the panties and begin to work them up my
legs. Bending over meant that I couldn't watch for
people and thus I might be surprised when I sat back up
again. This only added to the excitement and made
looping the panties over my feet all that much harder.

Finally I had the panties on and felt better being less
than naked from the waist down, but realising that I was
still in a pretty embarrassing situation should anybody
decide to park immediately next to me, or stroll close
enough to see into the car.

As it turns out, jeans are much more difficult to get on
when sitting in a car than to get off. It felt like it
took forever to get my legs back into the jeans, and to
begin working them up and finally fully on with the
zipper closed and waist button fastened. Another
condition of the dare was that once the button was
closed, I could not touch and/or adjust my jeans. Maybe
that does not sound too difficult, but the pair of jeans
that I was wearing are slightly too big in the waist,
and as I was not permitted to wear a belt for the dare,
it was going to be difficult to walk into the book
seller's, stand in the coffee queue and finally sit down
without being able to tug them up at all.

With the first part of the dare finally accomplished, I
started the car and headed over to the book seller's for
part two. The drive was uneventful, and my heart rate
had finally slowed to normal as I turned into the car
park and selected a spot. I headed inside and queued up
for a cup of espresso.

My wife knows that being in a situation where people
will "catch me" if they are paying attention is a huge
turn-on for me. Both having to change in the car, and
now feeling pretty sure that my panties would be visible
while I was enjoying my drink, played right into this.
Given the randomness of the dare jar I'm sure that my
wife didn't ever plan on these two dares being combined,
but as I stood waiting for my turn to order, I couldn't
help think about how well these dares had come together
as one.

Espresso ordered, paid for and handed to me, I headed
for a seat in the appointed row of tables. My back was
to face the natural aisle to the counter, and anybody
coming in to order would be forced to walk past me. I
sat, dug my book from my rucksack, began to read leaning
forward with my arms on the table and holding the book
in both hands. From a bit of cold air on my back I could
sense that the back of my t-shirt had ridden up; whether
or not the lacy waist of my panties was on display was
unknown. I imagined that with the loose fitting jeans,
and the fact that I didn't adjust them after walking in,
that they'd have slipped down far enough to give anybody
glancing at me a treat.

I read for about 20 minutes and I'd estimate that 10 to
20 people passed behind me. I'll never know exactly who
noticed, but I have to believe that there were a few. I
packed in my book, returned the espresso cup to the
counter and headed home where I was greated by my wife
eager to see for herself how the dare had gone and to
hear all about it.

Until next time!
Liz