Date: Sun, 10 May 2009 11:57:38 -0700 (PDT)
From: jimi jones <jimiboygirl@yahoo.com>
Subject: Transgender/Teen/Jimis Secret Diary/ 02 dear diary: may 20, 1965

The following is a work of fiction and fantasy.



02 dear diary: may 20, 1965



thursday, may 20, 1965

dear diary

last night i went to AH's house to help her in the attic. She had
cryptically hinted at what was to come after dinner on sunday, referencing
what i was wearing, and saying it would be okay to wear it again. i just
knew that she knew, that she had correctly deduced or guessed my
secret. yes, she must have felt the bra strap, must have felt the clasps
and slides as she 'innocently' hugged me after dinner. she surely felt the
elastic of reggie's panties hugging and shaping my bottom, too.

her invitation to help out at her house wasn't a particular surprise to my
mother. being the only male member of my family for hundreds of miles, i am
often called on to help with the heavy work of lifting and carrying, both
at home and at Aunt Helen's. in the past i have been called on to haul
trash to the curb, unload groceries, move furniture, help hang drapes or
whatever task called for a relatively strong and young back.

what was a surprise to mother was the offer from AH to put me up for the
night, to stay over, if the work went late. subsequently, mother had the
foresight to drop off fresh school clothes for me on wednesday afternoon,
before i arrived at AH's to help.

mother was still there when i knocked on AH's front door. She let me in, in
fact. we all had tea and biscuits and the women chatted for a while as i
did my homework at the kitchen table, listening in at opportune moments for
tidbits of gossip. finally, mother announced that she must leave so that AH
and i could get the attic sorted out. they spoke in low voices at the front
door as they made their goodbyes as i cleared the table and began to wash
the cups and dishes.

at last we are alone! said Aunt Helen as she entered the kitchen. she was
radiant! her dazzling white smile and deep red glossy lipstick, her reddish
brown hair was recently done in the latest beehive style. she wore pearls
(she always wore pearls) even with her simple daytime attire, a friendly
and bright green side-zip flaring plaid skirt, a dark green wide patent
leather belt with oversize buckle, and a contrasting dark blue form fitting
short sleeve blouse with bright turquoise sleeve trim and matching collar,
which she wore 'up' at the back. the effect was to make the entire collar
stand up, even at the front, which framed her pretty face. as i admired her
necklace i noticed that, perhaps a tad immodestly, the top three buttons
were now undone, so that if she leaned forward, her ample and plump and
freckled alabaster cleavage would be visible, as would be the delicate
white lace edges of her bursting brassiere. i did notice that before mother
left, only the top button was left unfastened, and only a glimpse of her
pearls showed, at her throat. now, by contrast, when one looked at the
pearls, the eye was led to the center of the necklace, where her softest,
jiggliest flesh was displayed.

"oh, there you go again, doing the dishes. you're such a good gir -- ah,
such a good boy, jimmy."

i caught the 'slip' and blushed deeply.

"never mind those dear," she continued, "we can do them later, after...
so! should we get started in the attic, jim-jim? there is so much we need
to go through."

"certainly, auntie helen. let's get started."

"auntie makes me sound so old, jimmy. why not just call me helen... when
your mother's not around. it's okay to be less...formal... with me."

"okay... helen," i replied, as casually as i could manage.

was she teasing me? why the undone buttons? why the insistence that i stop
referring to her as my aunt?

i followed 'helen' up the stairs to the second floor, watching her full
hips sway as she mounted the steps. the sound of petticoats rustled beneath
the fabric of the flounced skirt in sighing hushes as she moved. i admired
her legs, especially the dark and slightly old fashioned stockings, the
kind with the seams at the back. she wore a pair of low heels, shiny dark
green leather, which accented her calf muscles in a not-unsexy manner. her
perfume was slight, very different from regina's. more grown up, of course,
and probably a lot more expensive.

we reached the end of the long second floor hallway and started to climb
the final flight of stairs to the third floor. when we reached the top we
proceeded down another hallway to the far end. a trap door in the ceiling
marked the attic entrance. a long cord ran from the trap door and helen
tugged it a few times, the door gave way and an extension ladder gracefully
slid down and out.

"be a darling and hold the ladder while i climb up, jim-jim? it's a bit
rickety."

i held the ladder as helen began to ascent. of course, it was an
unavoidable sight! her flouncy skirt hem was like a bell, very wide at the
base, tapering to the waist. i had a wonderful view of her petticoats, and
the sight of the dark stockings in close proximity was enchanting. i
strained to see if i could make out the color or style of her
panties. alas. i could not.

i was almost sure she was teasing me now.

helen stood at the top of the opening and leaned over, looking down to
me. of course, all i could see was the dark shadow between those coconut
sized jiggly breasts and the lacey edges of the bra which held them.

she stayed in this position, ostensibly steadying the top of the ladder as
i climbed up. her breasts grew larger and larger as i ascended.

"what do you think, jimmy. isn't this great!?"

helen was referring to the attic, of course... at least i thought that was
what she meant, though a part of me hoped she was asking for a critique of
her bustline. in either case, i agreed that 'this' was great.

she flipped a light switch. the room itself was unlike the attic i had in
my mind: i imagined creepy cobwebs, dark and ancient junk, dusty shrouds,
old rocking chairs, broken lampshades, etc. by way of contrast, this was
more like a dressing room. there were racks of clothes, protected by
dustsheets, a full length tilting mirror, a sewing machine, a couple of
dressers, and the inevitable steamer trunks, souvenirs of a dying
age. people flew everywhere now. it was, after all, 1965, the jet age. in
addition there was a beauty-parlor style hair dryer and work table nearby
and some pretty comfortable looking easy chairs, hooked rugs over the
wooden planks... and a made-up double bed, complete with pillows and top
sheet. over the footboard was draped a colorful striped beach
towel. hovering low over the center of bed was a large reflector with an
equally large silver-colored lightbulb in the center. i stared at it,
wondering what it was for.

"my chamber of horrors! don't worry darling, that's a tanning bed, jimmy,
not a torture device. i take short treatments under that as summer comes so
i won't look like a ghost at the swim club. it really works, too, as long
as you're careful. people with white skin, like our family's, need to be
very very careful and not get too much sun too quickly. scientists say its
healthier to build a tan slowly. i read that in the saturday evening post
recently."

"cool. can i try it sometime, helen?"

"anytime you wish, baby... we could even do it... together. would you like
that? summer begins in just a few weeks now."

oh god! would i!!!? the image of lying in bed with my favorite aunt, each
dressed in nothing (but a beach towel?) shot through my brain
instantly. but instead of a sexy answer, all i could manage to say was
'yes'.

"wonderful. it will be such fun!"

"but here's what we need to do tonight, jimmy. there is to be a jumble sale
at the church and i thought it would be good idea to go through this stuff
(her hands indicated the racks of clothing and dressers and trunks) and see
what i should finally get rid of. of course, i don't want to unload
everything, just the things that i don't need or want anymore, or that we
think will sell."

"how can i help with that?"

"well, you're young. you have a certain 'flair' for what looks good. i
think a young person with your tastes would be very... useful, don't you?"

i nodded.

"now take this trunk, for example," she said, opening the lock and pulling
the sides open. Inside were several mens sports jackets. they looked to be
from the 1940s... wide lapels, dark colors, rather old fashioned overall.

"this belonged to my husband."

"but i thought..."

"yes, well, it didn't last very long. like your own father, he didn't stick
around. we were married less than a year. it's almost as if i never
married, which is why you probably think i'm just an old maid."

"oh no, aunt.. oh no helen. that's not how i think about you at all!", i
protested. "i think you're beaut-". i stopped short, embarrassed.

"what dear? you think i'm what?"

summoning up all my courage i said, as calmly as i could, though my pulse
was racing...

"i think you're beautiful. i think you're gorgeous. (a long
pause).... "sexy."

she beamed.

"you do? really?"

"yes. i think you know i do."

she cleared her throat and stammered...

"so. anything here interest you? the clothing, i mean."

she WAS teasing me!

"i think you should get rid of bad memories. give all that stuff away."

"quite right. okay,that was easy!, she said, closing the trunk's sides and
locking it.

"now, how about this other steamer trunk... maybe you'll like some of
this... more?"

with that, she pried open the other steamer trunk, separating its two
halves. inside were racks of women's clothing. dresses, skirts, blouses,
all very stylish and expensive looking, yet a bit dated, probably from the
same era as her former husband's wardrobe. on one side was a miniature
chest of drawers, probably for underwear.

i examined the clothing more closely. silks. satins. summery items. a young
woman's wardrobe circa 1950.

she held a slinky silk floral patterned dress up in front of her. it may
have fit long ago but would be too small for her now. it was low cut, with
padded shoulders and long pleats from waist to hem. a very pale shade of
pink, nearly white, it was almost translucent. very daring, i thought.

"do you like this, jimmy?"

"yes. yes i do, helen. it's beautiful."

"good. it's yours."

"wh-what?"

"i said, it's yours."

"what do you mean, helen?'

"i mean, it's yours to keep. give it to 'reggie'... or wear it
yourself... if you want to.

"but..."

she closed on me and placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, and brought me in
for a long tit to tit hug.

"it's okay, honey, i know."

"you know?"

"yes. i have had an idea about you since you were three but sunday night
clinched it. you were wearing a bra and panties under your clothing."

"y-yes."

"are you wearing them again tonight? as i requested?"

"yes."

"good. you won;t have to strip completely to try on the rest of the stuff i
have for you then. unless you want to try on some of this stuff, too.

she slipped open the steamer trunks dresser drawers. inside were row upon
row of vintage silk and satin panties and soft cupped brassieres and
camisoles. in the drawer above that were garter belts and fine silk
hosiery. there was even a long line 'merry widow' bustier. midnight black
with pink trim.

"all of this is pre-war, honey. no junky nylon or polyester or
poly-anything. pure silk or satin. don't you just love it?"

i stood, transfixed, staring at this princess' treasure cave. i could only
nod in the affirmative.

"now, let get you stripped off baby, i want you naked."

she stood and watched as i undid my school shirt and removed it. she sat
and watched from the easy chair as i removed my shoes and belt. she leaned
forward to view as i stepped out of my trousers. she stood again and
actually peeled off my teeshirt.

she beamed again.

i stood there in reggie's pink bra.

"now the undershorts, honey."

i turned my back and lowered the undershorts, revealing reggies pink
panties. i had a three-inch erection.

"the argyle socks look ridiculous, jimmy. better take them off too."

i did as requested, standing in my pink bra and panties, my hands covering
my crotch.

"lose the panties and bra, jimmy. i have better things for you."

i struggled out of the bra and pulled down my panties, my back to her. i
was naked.

"turn around darling. let me see you."

i turned to face helen, who was now facing me, on her knees, holding open
the beautiful pre-war 100% pure silk panties. my cock was sticking straight
out at her.

"you're the beautiful one, jimmy. i could eat you alive."




continued.



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