By the time Jerry got home that night he discovered he was completely comfortable in the feminine undergarment Chanel had given him. In fact, he's forgotten he was wearing them until he disrobed that evening. His first thought was to strip out of them. He lingered in front of the mirror in the bedroom, looked at the reflected feminine image, shrugged his shoulders and went to the closet, found a nylon wrap.
That night he slept in a slick shorty Chanel had given him earlier.
Why not? He was home alone. Who was to know?