BEING FOUND OUT
				 BY STATS

I am a crossdresser. Have been since age eight when I found a pile of
discarded female clothes in the attic. Now, at age 28, I shave my legs and
arms, wear nail polish on my toes and female undergarments to work.

I have a particular fetish for women's shoes and will occasionally slip a
pair on while working at my desk in my office. I have grown a respectable
ponytail over the years but there are three other guys in the company who
also have long hair. Of course, two of them also have macho type
mustaches. I tell everyone that I would love to grow a mustache but the one
hundred and four hairs above my upper lip, I actually counted them, doesn't
make any kind of mustache that will stand scrutiny. Don't know what else to
tell about good ol' Dave except I am five six and one hundred and
forty-three pounds with only my panties on.

I have very few friends except at work. There, I several buddies. My very
closest friend is Stacey. Stacey is a soul mate. She can never fail to get
my out of one of my mood swings with a "Hiya Dave, would a roll in the hay
with me put a smile on your face? What makes this particularly interesting,
is that Stacey, or for that matter anyone on the face of the planet, has
ever rolled in the hay with me. Maybe that is what has built up our special
relationship. Stacey knows she can trust me, I can't count the number of
times I gave her encouragement and comfort in one of our apartments after
she had just ended another brutal relationship with some slime ball who was
only interested in another conquest. I am sure that we would bed if I asked
her, or she asked me, but over the years - four years to be exact - I think
we are both afraid it would impact our deep friendship for each other.

Then there is Michelle. Michelle drips sex. She has to have one of the most
feminine bodies I have ever seen, wears clothes that take full advantage of
her generous female assets; enticing cleavage, tiny, tiny waist, classic
female hips and a set of slender legs that stick provocatively out of her
mini skirts. Michelle has perfected the art of wearing nothing and hiding
everything. She and Stacey are close friends and Michelle, who prides
herself in daily conquests, has never come on to me. I guess it is respect
for Stacey and to some extent that I am not macho enough for her
taste. Nevertheless the three of us always seem to have lunch together and
spend time together, which, in retrospect, could best be described as three
girls having fun.

Yet, I just knew that Stacey and Michelle had no clue that I was
transvestite. It is like, if it was important I would have told you years
ago. To help conceal the fact, I had never gone shopping with either of
them and had masterfully turned the conversation onto safe topics if it
drifted onto a taboo area that might reveal my secret.

I have several guy friends as well and I seem to balance my time with them
so that to all concerned I am just a normal guy who happens to have a
couple of really close female friends.

Well, that changed. It all started, I found out this evening, when Michelle
and Stacey walked into my office yesterday morning to tell me that one of
the unmarried girls in the office, Anne had just announced she was four
months pregnant. I had heard the commotion outside but couldn't get myself
out there. I was wearing my very favorite pair of shoes, velvet black, open
toes, four inch high heels with ankle straps. My desk hid my secret attire
quite well so I was not particularly concerned that I would be
discovered. As the incident started with one of the other employees telling
the poor girl that she was developing quite a tummy, it was not an intended
disclosure. They both thought that it would be helpful if I could spend a
few minutes with the poor girl who was now in the washroom crying her eyes
out.

What was unusual was that Michelle was wearing the very same shoes that I
had on. All I could do was stare at her feet while they both babbled on
that I was the only one who could help. When I finally looked up both were
suddenly silent looking at me in shock. I knew that they knew that I had
more than just a healthy male interest in Michelle's feet. Finally, Stacey
said "well Dave, if you are really that taken with Michelle's shoes we will
go out at lunch and help you buy a pair." I tried to hide it with a "Don't
be ridiculous", go fetch Anne and I will have a talk with her"

In the next thirty seconds I had my females shoes off and in my locked
bottom drawer, some socks on, and my loafers on my feet. When the three of
them reentered my room I emerged from behind my desk and made sure both
Stacey and Michelle had a good look at my socks. As the two of them exited
Michelle turned around to catch me staring at her shoes again and commented
that one of my socks was inside out. I spent a half an hour with Anne and
she left in good spirits, particularly as I told her to take the rest of
the day off and I would talk with the staff on her behalf. I, however, was
ready to take an overdose.

I purposely didn't go to lunch with Stacey and Michelle. Spent time with
the guys, something I very rarely did at lunch. That evening at home, I
removed my female clothing, cleaned my nails, and took a macho shower. I
packed all my female things in their boxes and put them in the very back of
my closet. Somehow, I felt that if I removed it all from sight, I could
make the incident go away. I was miserable, and I really didn't know what I
was going to do the next day which was a Friday. Get a short haircut?
Arrange to date with one of the girls? Anne? Announce that I was going to
grow a mustache?

The next day was without incident. Michelle entered with one of her million
dollar smiles to ask if she could borrow my car, as she had done dozens of
times in the past. Later, Stacey dropped her head around the corner and
asked if my boyfriends would let me have lunch with her. I replied only if
she would drink beer, swear and fart. She laughed, said she would do her
best, and disappeared.

Michelle was still out doing errands so Stacey and I had lunch alone. We
talked mostly about Anne. I had been able to convince Anne that none of the
office thought any less of her because of her pregnancy. I reminded her
that many women had decided to raise children on their own as they couldn't
bear to spend time with some inconsiderate lout with major character
flaws. Further I had explained that there will be so many occasions that
she will be proud of her baby and be so happy that she brought this tiny
soul into existence.

Stacey finally said, "You know Dave, that is why both Michelle and I feel
so fortunate to be your friend, you are one neat person."

When I got back from lunch, Michelle was waiting for me with one of her
winning smiles. She returned the keys and said that Stacey and her were
going to have to use a conference room on another floor to organize a
project for a client so they may be late for the Friday dinner and movie we
often celebrated the end of the week together. I didn't think much of it at
the time.

When I arrived at the restaurant the waiter told me that neither of the
girls were there yet but I was to take a seat in a back booth, about as far
from the few people who were in the restaurant as possible.

I almost choked on my
wine when Michelle walked to the table. She was wearing the black open toed
shoes with the ankle strap and a black dress very similar to one I had in
the box in my closet. Even her toenails were painted in my very favorite
candy apple red color. As she reached the table she says, "You were so
fascinated with my shoes yesterday day that I decided to wear them again
tonight."

I was just gaining my composure when Stacey walks toward the
table wearing the very same outfit right down to candy apple red
toenails. As she sits down, she says "Dave, you gave such a reaction to
those shoes yesterday that I decided to buy a pair as well to see what all
the fuss was about".

With that she takes a package out of the shopping bag she has and puts it
in front of me. "This is for you", she says with a smile that had affection
written all over it. Stunned I open it and find another pair of the shoes
in question and a note.

To our dearest friend Dave,

We had only seen the look you gave to Michelle's shoes yesterday a couple
of times before, when a woman finds the perfect thing to wear. It became
instantly clear to both of us that you were in love with female
clothes. After we left the office we had recalled a number of incidents
that have happened over the years that supported that you were a
transvestite. At lunch today, while you were telling me about your gentle
caring session with Anne, Michelle was searching through your apartment for
evidence. We did not want to jeopardize our friendship having no evidence
so support our theory. As you can imagine Michelle found plenty of
evidence.  So here are your shoes and I also have in my bag your
underclothes, cosmetics and a your black dress that is very similar to what
we have on. When you have read this letter we shall adjourn to the ladies
room to get you properly attired. Coincidentally, the movie "I Enjoy being
a Girl" is playing across town and it seems to be ideal for three girl
friends to see at your coming out party.

Did you know that Michelle is bisexual? I have resisted her advances for
two years, but now that I know that you are a girl as well, I think it is
time we all get to know each other better. I can't believe how much this is
turning me on.

Your friend and future lover Stacey.

P.S. After I am through with my two dearest friends they will have a new
definition of "being turned on".

 Your secret admirer, Michelle.

"Ladies, I have put an out of order sign on the ladies restroom as you
asked, let me know when you are finished" said the waiter who was admiring
the shoes on the table.