After my ramblings about my early years, I am continuing on my next stage…Puberty.
As a teenager, I’d outgrown any clothes that I had access to, and I still lived at home. I was a young male with testosterone coursing throughout his body. My friends and activities were very male orientated, and I had started to work fulltime too. Everything I did was quite the norm; working, drinking and chasing girls repeated week in week out. This was in the early 1970’s where men were men and being anything other was not a thing to admit.
Dressing and any feelings towards that were in the background as I pursued a career and moved on in life. There was one thing that stayed with me, looking at women’s fashions. I also cared how a girl dressed as much as how she looked when selecting a girlfriend. I was definitely a hetero male. There were occasions when my desire to dress got the better of me. Sometimes, I would live with a girlfriend or share houses with a mixed sex group. Due to my work pattern, I would often be alone at home. Knowing that no one would come home, I would indulge myself in dressing and love every moment. I enjoyed these rare times, but when I dressed, I did not have those angelic looks I had as a youngster. I was a bloke in a dress.
Occasionally there was a fancy dress party, and I could then find a reason to go as a female. Usually this was more like a drag queen than real woman. This period of my life lasted over twenty years. I was sometimes living at home or near where I worked. The desire to dress was far in the background and I really didn’t give time to any thoughts about my dressing.
When I was in my early thirties, the place I worked had a fancy dress party coming up. Everyone had an idea of what they were going to dress up as, but I wasn’t sure. At work there were a group of female co-workers chatting away about the party. I was passing by and joined in. It turned out that they had decided to go as French tarts. They asked what I was going as. I was saying I wasn’t sure when out of the blue one of the girls said I should go as a tart! I flushed, and suddenly the rest joined in, and in a blink of an eye they had it all planned; what outfit, and where they would dress me up!
They promised to keep it a secret. Come that night, it was almost a rerun of my beauty pageant event when I was teenager. These girls had really gone to town on the outfit. Short skirt, boots, blouse top, and a beret! Then they did my hair and makeup. When finished, I didn’t recognize myself, only seeing a woman standing there. At first, no one at the party recognized me, and it all went down well. After the event, I had a few comments, but no one ever suggested that I was over enjoying myself in female-mode. Deep down, I really was.
I stayed in mode all night and went home dressed. I sat at home, and all the emotions came back. I could look good as a woman. Suddenly, all the desires flooded back. I knew then that this was the continuation of my quest. A lot ran through my mind as to the how, but the main question … “Where will it go?”
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