Date: Mon, 24 Feb 2003 16:49:30 -0500
From: Jennifer James <jennyjamestg@hotmail.com>
Subject: In The Beginning (TG)

'In The Beginning'

By Jennifer James

jennyjamestg@hotmail.com


	I was a 5 year old girl, dressed in a yellow sun suit, playing with my
friend Linda. The sun was shining and we were sitting on the grass giggling
at something, or maybe at nothing, as little kids do. Then, I woke up. I
looked down at my little boy's body, confused for a moment, and reality hit
me like a 50 pound weight.

	I'd also have dreams of flying, soaring over the neighborhood in the sun
with a gentle breeze on my face, looking down and feeling happy. This dream
would eventually go away, but the girl dreams never would.

	As my life went on I would look forward to the dreams at night, when I
could be a girl and everything felt right. And during my waking hours I
lived my life as the boy I didn't want to be.

	Otherwise, though, I had a fairly happy childhood. I had 2 wonderful
parents who I adored, and was brought up in a loving home. My father was a
quiet soft spoken man who taught me all the things a boy would need to know
while growing up, and my mother spent hours with me, talking, listening, and
encouraging me in whatever my interests at the time were. All in all it was
a very gender-neutral upbringing.

	I spent much time with my grandparents also, and stayed with them
frequently. My grandfather was a gruff man's man who showed me off like a
trophy to anyone who would listen. But my grandmother totally fascinated me.
She was from an era where appearance was a priority, and she was to me the
image of femininity. She spent her life, from waking up till bed time, in
stiletto heeled pumps and a dress or a skirt and blouse, and was still
turning heads and eliciting wolf whistles well into her 60's as she walked
down the street.
	As a small child I used to love lounging on her bed on the mornings I'd
stay over, watching her get ready at her antique vanity with its array of
cosmetics and brushes. She'd sit in front of the triple mirrors in her bra
and girdle with garter stockings, and carefully put on her makeup and fix
her hair, while I sat transfixed, dreaming of my own vanity, and my own
makeup and brushes.

	My mother didn't have any makeup around the house to speak of, nor
lingerie, nor clothes that interested me or were remotely my size. And my
sister was 5 years younger so she wasn't an influence or source either, so
my girl thoughts stayed within me thru my childhood. I managed to learn how
to appear to be the little boy everyone thought I was, and my dreams at
night were my escape.

	My mother always had all the women's magazine around the house, though, and
I read every issue from cover to cover, and I was always especially
attracted to the makeup ads. I started daydreaming a lot, and imagined
myself as the girls in the magazines. There were no girl's clothes available
to me at home, and I wouldn't have been able to keep them hidden anyway, but
by the time I was 10 I had started collecting my own makeup collection,
which was small and easy to hide.
	I didn't have the courage to buy any of it so I became very adept at
shoplifting from the drugstores and the five and dimes. Almost daily, at
bath time, I'd bring my makeup and magazines into the bathroom, lock the
door, and try to copy the makeup looks from the ads on to my own face. Not
very successfully, I'm sure, but over time I became fairly adept with the
intricacies of eye shadow, liquid eyeliner, mascara, and lipstick.
	My parents were always yelling at me to 'get out of the bath already', and
in the beginning they probably thought I was masturbating. But I'm sure that
although I did my best to wash it all off in the bath, they eventually
noticed mascara or lipstick remnants on my face and realized that I'd been
putting on makeup.

	But they never mentioned a single word about it.

	Within a few years I did discover the joys of masturbating, but my
fantasies at the time were mostly of girls I knew, and of the usual type,
I'm sure.
	Blowjobs were a prime source of inspiration, of course, and about as likely
to happen with the girls I knew as finding a million dollars lying on the
street. And while there were also some sexual fantasies of guys as well,
they were not connected in any concrete way to my girl feelings, to girl
clothing, or to makeup.
	They were always of me, as a person, performing oral sex on a guy - period.

	By my mid teens my parents started leaving me home alone, and by this point
in time, I'd grown my hair somewhat, which was acceptable (though not
encouraged) in the 60's. It wasn't super long, but I was able to comb it
down into bangs and forward on the sides. And when I put my makeup on, I
think (or at least imagined) that I was presenting an acceptable girl image
from a short distance.
	I'd sit in the front window of my house, which was on a major thoroughfare,
and watch the traffic go by, and occasionally catch someone's eye as they
were waiting for the light to turn green. But when evening came and my
family was out for the night I had a strong desire to go outside as a girl.

	I went to a few department stores to buy clothes, but still lacking the
courage to purchase them at the cash register, I again shoplifted what I
needed. By taking several things into a dressing room I was able to put the
clothes on underneath my boy clothes and walk out.
	I managed to pick up a pair of girls dress slacks, a turtleneck sweater,
bra and panties, and some pantyhose this way. The one piece of clothing I
was having trouble stealing, though, was girls shoes - so I finally went to
the store wearing a pair of really beat up guys shoes, found a pair of girls
shoes I liked, mary janes with a 2" chunky heel, and I put them on and
walked out of the store wearing them, leaving my old shoes on the rack. That
was one long, nervous walk out of the store.

	The next time my family went away overnight to stay at my aunt's house I
was ready, and I got dressed, put on my makeup, and sat there for hours
trying to work up the courage to go out. At around 1 AM, the streets were
empty, and I went out the back door and through a neighbor's yard to the
sidewalk. I walked around town for hours, ducking behind bushes whenever a
car drove past, but saw nobody out walking. I was scared to death, and knew
that if I was recognized my life would be over - but at the same time I had
never felt more alive in my life.

	My boy life at this time was filled with girlfriends; I was probably one of
the few boys they could talk comfortably with about anything. I continued to
grow my hair and let my fingernails grow long as well, keeping them shaped
and manicured - and being the sixties, with individuality running rampant, I
was raising no flags with either.
	By the late sixties I had grown to 5'8 but was skinny as a rail, weighing
in at about 110 lbs. My hair was almost to my waist, and I was still going
out occasionally late nights as a girl, but the thrill had gone from that
somewhat.
	Being out but not being seen was almost like staying in, and I was
developing a real need to express my girl side.

	And into the picture came the car.

	I had been saving my money, and on the day I went for my driving test, I
already had my car ready to roll. I took (and passed) my drivers test, and
when I got home I told my parents I was going to visit a friend down the
shore the next day and would be home late. 	The next morning, a Saturday, I
woke up early, took a bath and shaved off what little facial hair I had at
that time, put on my panties, bra, and pantyhose under my boy clothes, said
goodbye to my family, and drove off.

	I took the car to a parking lot in a wooded public park to dress. I changed
into my girl slacks and sweater, slipped some rolled up socks into the bra,
and changed into my mary janes. I put a mirror on my steering wheel, and the
first thing I did was pull out a large safety pin and pierce both my ears,
and inserted large goldtone hoop earrings. I knew I wasn't going to be able
to keep them in, but it was worth the pain to have them in.
	I put on my makeup in the mirror, first some liquid foundation (I didn't
need a trowel full at that age) and compact powder, and then I started on my
eyes. I first brushed on black eyeliner (it was the cake stuff you added
water to back then), heavy on the upper lash line, and a thin line under the
eye, and then applied eye shadow. Powder blue was the lid color back then,
but I had a triple shadow kit that also had ice blue for under the brow and
a deep purple for the crease.
	My brows had been tweezed somewhat (though nothing like I do them nowadays)
and I used a little eyebrow pencil on them (amazingly, the exact same
Maybelline pencils I still use today), and finally I carefully brushed on
about 5 coats of black mascara on upper and lower lashes. The eyes probably
sound overdone, but, again, it was the sixties. I applied cherry red gloss,
popular at the time, to my lips and finally brushed on a little powder blush
to my cheekbones.
	My hair was very long by then, halfway down my back, and sun bleached
blond. It was center parted as was popular, so I took a brush and teased it
at the crown and leaving some in the front for side bangs, I brushed the
rest straight back over the teased part and used a barrette to hold it in
the back.

	I had forgotten to bring nail polish, so as ready as I would ever be I
started the car and drove to a department store a dozen miles away. I had
expected to be a nervous wreck when I finally got out, but for some reason
it all felt really natural and right. I was a nervous about my voice, but
didn't figure I'd have to do a lot, if any, talking, and I had practiced a
sort of 'background' voice that I'd use if I had to.
	At the store, I grabbed the cheap plastic purse I'd stolen, got out of the
car, and walked in. The store was very bright and crowded on a Saturday
morning, and I felt somewhat self conscious when I first walked thru the
doors, but nobody seemed to be paying attention. I got a shopping cart and
for the first time in my life I walked right over to the women's clothing
department and began openly shopping.
	I picked out a pair of black dress slacks, and saw a ruffled white blouse I
was crazy about, but knowing my access to an ironing board was non existent,
I instead picked out a nice white fitted V-neck sweater. Into my cart went a
new white satin bra and panty set and some pantyhose.
	In the cosmetic section I picked up some cherry red nail polish, some nail
polish remover, and a jar of cold cream to remove my makeup with later. I
managed to get through the checkout line without having to talk, and as I
was leaving the store with my bags an older man ran to get in front of me
and said 'Let me get the door for you, Miss' I smiled at him, and left - but
a little bell went off.

	Now, as I'd mentioned earlier, despite my desire for girls, I'd also had
fantasies of sucking off a guy and getting a mouthful of cum. And this
fantasy had always been genderless, but reality always seemed to dictate
that it'd be as a guy since that was all I'd ever pictured being possible.
But now that I was out in public as a girl, and noticed a few guys paying
attention to me, a different mindset seemed to be developing. It wasn't that
there was suddenly any sexual thoughts attached to the dressing itself, but
it did seem like maybe there was a different way that this fantasy of mine
could be acted upon.

	Anyway, I sat in my car in the parking lot, took out the red nail polish
I'd just bought, and started to paint my nails for the first time. It was
trial and error, I'd paint one OK, mess up another, remove the polish from
that one, start over, and the car was thick with the fumes of the polish and
the acetone remover. But by the time I was done and all the nails were a
nice shiny red, I'd learned a little bit about the technique, and as I
started driving away I couldn't take my eyes off my red fingertips - and all
I could picture were those red nails a few inches in front of my eyes,
wrapped around a cock shaft as my lips were wrapped around the cock head,
waiting for a mouthful of cum.

	Not knowing where to go next, I headed towards a mall I'd been to a few
times before as a boy. I sat in the car gathering courage for a few minutes,
and then got out of the car and headed in thru the main mall entrance. I
didn't really want to buy anything; I just wanted to be seen? So I started
walking around, looking in all the store windows, but mostly looking at my
own reflection.
	Though I'd seen myself as a girl many times, it had never been full length,
and it was completely different seeing myself out in the real world. I
walked through the entire mall, and still not having a ton of confidence,
spent a lot of time looking around to see who was watching me. But again,
nobody seemed to be paying much attention - except, once in awhile, I'd
notice a guy looking with apparent interest. Well, I started getting really
hungry, and there was no way I was going to order anything at one of the
mall places because I couldn't do that without speaking, so I left the mall
and got back into the car.

	I drove to a nearby supermarket where I parked, went inside, and picked up
a quart of chocolate milk and a box of donuts, and brought them over to the
express checkout. Well, it turned out that the checkout girl was one of
those who had to talk to everyone. And fortunately I was the only one in
line. As she was ringing up the food, she said 'Hi, honey, how are you
today?' And I just replied with a kind of background 'Fine, thank you' - but
as soon as I answered her she focused on me and started staring....
Fortunately, all she said was 'You look nice honey' and I again said 'Thank
You', but knew I'd been read, big time.
	I took my bag and blushing, hurried out of the store. But again, at the
door, a guy stepped in front of me, smiled, and said 'Allow me' as he held
the door open. I smiled weakly back, still feeling strange from having
gotten read, and headed towards my car. And in the car I sat, drank my milk
and ate a few donuts as I thought about where to go next.
	The weather was starting to turn crappy, not cold but a light rain had
started, and I didn't have a coat. So for lack of anything better to do, I
decided to drive down to the shore. I pulled out my mirror and makeup, and
fixed my face a little, but ended up just having to slide on some more of
the cherry lip gloss.

	By the time I hit the Parkway I really had to pee badly. I hadn't really
thought much about this beforehand, but now I was wondering exactly what I
was going to do about it. So I headed towards a rest area on the Parkway to
use a ladies room.
	Pulling into the rest area, I grabbed my purse and walked fast into the
building thru the light rain. I headed into the ladies room and immediately
into a stall, where I hung my purse on the hook, pulled down my slacks, and
relieved myself completely. I fixed my clothes and left the stall, and since
there was no one right there at the time I stopped at a sink with a mirror
and brushed out my long hair. Since the lighting was good, I also took out
my eye shadow and added a little more color to my lids, and I was just
finishing off with a little more lip gloss when I glanced to my right and
saw an older tight lipped woman with a young girl giving me extremely dirty
looks.
	I honestly don't know if she was reading me or just giving me dirty looks
because I was maybe looking like too much of a slut, to her, with the fairly
heavy eye makeup and the red lip gloss, but I hurried out of there. I didn't
have a clue what the law would say if I got caught in a ladies room, but I
was scared to death of finding out.

	It was now almost dark as I started driving down the shore, and right after
I got off the Parkway exit I saw a teenage boy hitchhiking on the side of
the road, as was especially common back then. I drove right by him, of
course, but as soon as I'd passed him I had a thought of picking him up and
offering to blow him. Reality hit, of course, since there was no way I could
offer to suck him off without speaking and getting myself read, but even if
I somehow could find a way past that, and did start sucking him off, the
potential for violence if I was discovered was too great.

	I kept driving down to the boardwalk, and though it wasn't summer yet and
there were no major crowds there, the video arcades were open year round -
so I found a parking spot a block away, grabbed my purse, and headed towards
the arcade. The rain had stopped, and as I got to the boardwalk there were a
group of teenage boys leaning against the railing near the arcade entrance.
I walked past them self consciously, and not a sound came from any of them -
but as I turned to go into the place, I looked back quickly and saw that
most of them were staring at me.

	Once inside, I went over to the bill changing machine and got a few dollars
worth of quarters, then walked over to the pinball machines and picked one
that was in the center of an open group of three, and fed in a quarter and
started playing. I was actually a pretty good player, and for awhile I stood
there flipping the balls around as the lights flashed and the bells rang,
but I soon noticed some boys standing a little bit off watching me play - or
pretending to.
	I was there to be seen, of course, but tit was pretty disconcerting being
under that kind of scrutiny, so when that quarter ran out I left the
machine, and left the building to go out on the boardwalk. It was fairly
empty, with just a few small groups of guys sitting on benches, laughing,
along the beach side and I slowly walked down the middle listening to the
ocean and fantasizing about sucking off one, or all, of the guys in the
groups I'd pass at a distance - that bell really had rung.

	It was getting late, though, and despite my excitement at the day I'd had,
I was getting tired. So I walked back to my car, again passing by various
groups of boys who again got quiet as I passed. As much as I hated the idea
of going back to boy mode, I had to do it, there was no place for me to
sleep if I stayed out, and not even a place to wash. So I started driving
home, and again stopped at a Parkway rest area to pee, this time
uneventfully.
	Just before I reached home there was a final rest area, and I pulled into
the back of the parking lot there, and sat in the front seat taking off my
red nail polish. I pulled out my jar of cold cream and some tissues and
rubbed the cream into my face and wiped off the makeup. I climbed over into
the back seat and got undressed, took off my bra, panties, and pantyhose and
changed back into my boy clothes. I took the barrettes out of my hair and
brushed it out and put it back into the normal ponytail I wore, and lastly
(and I really hated doing it) took the hoops earrings out of my ears,
knowing the holes would be closed up by morning.
	I got out of the back seat and back into the driver seat and looked myself
over in the rearview mirror, and in the parking lot lights everything seemed
to look OK. So I headed home, parked the car, and walked into the house and
into the living room where my parents were sitting watching TV.

	As usual, they asked how my day had been, and I told them it had been nice,
but that I was tired from driving and was heading to bed. My mother seemed
to have an odd look on her face as I left the room, and when I walked into
the bathroom and turned on the light I could see why. The cold cream had
taken the bulk of the makeup off, but in the light there was still a lot of
mascara stuck to my lashes, some eyeliner was still there, and my lips were
still somewhat red, stained from the gloss. I scrubbed my face with soap and
water, vowed to find a better way to remove my makeup in the future (which
turned out to be baby oil for my eyes and a wet soapy washcloth for the lips
and everything else), and I left the bathroom and headed right into bed.
	And for the first time the girl dreams I slipped into were of me, in my
car, leaning over a guys lap, his cock in my mouth.

Author's Note: This story, although probably boring as hell to most of you,
is totally true. If you'd like to email me any comments anyway, please do:
jennyjamestg@hotmail.com