Date: Mon, 4 Mar 2013 02:40:47 +0000 (GMT)
From: Cindy Usa <cindyusa58@yahoo.com>
Subject: I have a confession to make

I do not claim to be a grammar expert, and as such you will find some
grammatical errors in this story.

The errors can be the switching of tense, spelling errors, or typos.  I ask
if you find an error please to send me an email, so I can correct and make
the story enjoyable for others.

This is a story of fiction based on facts researched on the Internet.

WARNING!
  This text file contains sexually explicit
  material. If you do not wish to read this
  type of literature, or you are under age
  Eighteen, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!

CindyUSA
Cindyusa58@bellsouth.net
I have a confession to make

I have a confession to make.  I am a male, and I like to dress in woman
clothing.  I started cross-dressing when I was a teenager.

My father had a garage office. My father's office, it was off-limits.  As
any teenager, I was curious about my father's office, so one day, I sneaked
in order to look around.  I open one of the desk drawers and found a stack
of magazines.  The cover shown a skimpy clad woman.  The name of the
magazine was in Playboy.  When I opened the magazine, there were pictures
of the naked women.  My eyes glued to the pictures, first was my time

I saw naked breasts. I took one of the Playboy going to my room to look at
pictures of the naked women. The Playboy had cartoons with captions that I
did not understand.  A few nights later something strange happened.



The details of the dream remained vague.  The dream I remember was an
impression something or someone had touched my penis.  I woke up shaking.
Half asleep I slowly became conscious of my disturbing dream.  My dream was
of the naked women shown in the Playboy. My parents told me it was bad to
see a nude woman.  Telling my parents about my weird dream would be
inviting their displeasure. I turned the desk lamp on to see the wetness
between my legs.  My PJ front was wet, and the sheets were wet.  I panic
and thought I had wet the bed.  I felt afraid because the last time I wet
my bed was in first grade, and now I was in the seventh grade.  Last time I
wet my bed I resulted in a spanking.

Pulling my PJ off, I saw the wetness as white and gooey.  Touching the
white and gooey stuff it felt more sticky than wet.  At first, I thought I
had peed.  I bent over and smelled my PJ. It did not smell like
pee. Whatever it was; it was all over my PJ and sheet.  I removed the wet
sheet and draped it over a chair to dry.  I wrapped myself in a blanket,
turned off the desk lamp and fell asleep. The next morning the sheets were
dry; I made the bed as if nothing happened.  My PJ went into the dirty
clothes hamper. Embarrassed about wetting my PJ, I did not want anyone to
know.

My dream was confusing and disturbing to me. My first dream, was of a woman
with big breasts with pink centers, just as the Playboy pictures.  The
curious event, the woman in my dream had a little penis. I had never seen
an actual live naked woman and did not know what they had between their
legs.

The Playboy pictures showed the woman with their legs shut and lacked any
detail what a woman was like there.  Years later I realized it was my mind
filling in the blanks for what I did not know.  My mind remembered the
naked woman pictures I had seen in Playboy magazine.  My dream was a
combination what I have seen in the Playboy and what I knew about my body.
Looking back on my first wet dream the vision of a naked woman with a penis
was puzzling.

In later dreams, I remembered my penis touching a blanket; another time it
was a hand.  I was not sure whose hand, just a hand from nowhere.  Another
time I dreamed I was in the shower and when the water touched my
penis. Each time I woke with this creamy gooey wetness between my
legs. These dreams did not happen every night but several nights a week.
One dream had me standing next to my teacher was wearing an azure dress, as
the last time I saw her.  In the dream, I was pushed into her, my penis
contacting the azure dress. I woke up drenched again.  Another wet dream
was about my older cousin

Amy. She was three years older than I and was already in high school.  The
strange dream was not about Amy but her clothing.  I do not remember much
it was something about her clothes.  I realized the dreams had something in
common. I woke up at the moment my penis touched something.  What my penis
touched was clothing.

I had these dreams several times a week.

The dreams were vivid then faded into an unclear memory.  I remember my
dreams were of naked women but with little penis.  My dreams were not about
sexual intercourse; I had no knowledge anything intercourse. The dream was
what

I knew, naked Playboy woman and some with little penises like mine.



I overheard two older boys mentioned wet dreams and reasoned that my dream
was a wet dream and what I experienced.  The two boys' conservations didn't
say anything about what wet dreams were.

I had always enjoyed reading and loved going to the library.  I knew the
library would have information about a wet dream.

Definition:

"wet dream."

Wet dream: an erotic dream resulting in orgasm and in the male with
ejaculating semen

I did not know what some of the words meant.

Orgasm: intense or paroxysmal excitement; especially: an explosive
discharge of neuromuscular tensions at the height of sexual
arousal. Usually with ejaculating semen in the male and by vaginal
contractions in the female.

The word ejaculation repeated; I looked up that meaning.

Ejaculation: an act of ejaculating; specifically: a sudden discharging of a
fluid from a duct

And semen another word I did not know.

Semen: a viscid whitish fluid of the male reproductive tract consisting of
spermatozoa suspended in secretions of accessory glands (as of the prostate
and Cowper's glands)

At least, I knew that my wetting the bed was semen.  I would have the most
vivid and weird dream, which caused me to wake to an orgasm ejaculating
semen.  I still was not sure what all the words meant. The words were
defined in the dictionary; I reasoned that it was something normal and must
happen to other boys.  I needed to learn more about wet dreams.

In a book called A Boy's Book About Growing Up, I read this,

Boys sometimes release semen or "ejaculate" while they are asleep. This is
called a wet dream. For many boys, the first wet dream is the first-time
semen comes out of their body. They will probably wake up and find a damp
patch in the bed or on their clothes.

If you do not know about wet dreams, this can be confusing and
worrisome. You might think that you have wet your bed, or that you are
bleeding or sick.

However, you will see the fluid is milky white, not like blood or urine.

Wet dreams only happen when you are asleep. If you nap during the day, you
could possibly have a wet dream, but most boys have wet dreams at night
when they are asleep. Many boys who wake up to find that they have
ejaculated recall that they were dreaming about something
sexual. Nevertheless, you can have a wet dream even if you have not been
having a sexy dream.

Most boys find wet dreams embarrassing. It's okay to feel embarrassed, but
remembers that wet dreams are common during adolescence. Not every
adolescent boy has wet dreams, but most do.

A boy cannot stop himself from having wet dreams. They are natural and
normal.

They are the way that your body makes room for new sperm from the
testicles.

Having wet dreams does not mean that you should have sex.

In the same book I read about masturbation

Masturbation is the act of touching one's own sexual organs, the penis,
vagina, breasts or other parts of the body that are sensitive to sexual
stimulation. Masturbation is another way that people sometimes express
their sexual feelings.

Both men and women can relieve sexual feelings and experience sexual
pleasure through masturbation. In fact, most people masturbate during their
lives, but boys masturbate more often than girls. Some girls and boys start
masturbating when they are children and continue to do so all their
lives. Some start during puberty; others start when they are adults. Other
people never masturbate, and some people feel that having sexual fantasies
and masturbating is in conflict with their religious or moral beliefs.

In my teenage mind, I was beginning to understand. I would get erections
all-day long, sometimes when the classroom and I would be embarrassed
should someone know, especially a girl.  But my penis

was not that large, and it was easy to hide.

After

I read about masturbation, I wanted to try it. I wanted to watch my orgasm
when awake and to see an ejaculation.  Until now, I ejaculated when asleep.
With the bedroom door shut and the desk lamp on, I was ready try this
masturbating thing.  The first touch of my hand to my penis instantly made
me hard. Touching my little erect penis felt strange causing my penis to
tingle.  My finger rubbed the penis tip, called the glan. The glan was
purple with the shaft pink.  Being twelve my balls did not hang far, with
my nuts still close to my body.

Moving my hand in various ways kept my penis tingling, but nothing
happened.

After

a few minutes of masturbation and nothing happened, I gave up, turned the
light off and went to sleep. Drifting off to sleep, I wondered why I did
not have an orgasm.  Minutes later I had a vivid dream waking with wet PJ.
The next day was

Saturday; wash day so took off my PJ but left the sheet on the bed. I slept
next to the wet spot.

I worried that I was doing something wrong when trying to masturbate.  Not
long after my wet dreams started I was over at my Aunt's house.  I went to
take

a leak and standing there I noticed the laundry hamper overflowing with
mostly my Aunt's clothes and what looked to be Amy's clothes.  When I saw
her pink lace panties with bows, I got an immediate erection.  I could not
think or understand the visual stimulation and my erection.  I finished
peeing allowing me to reach for the colorful panties.  The touch was so
soft, then I grab the panties.  I cannot explain why, but I rubbed them on
my erection.

Wow my penis tingled.  The feeling

was almost electrifying, and I know that I had to take them home and use
them for masturbation.

That night with the door shut and on top of the covers, I bought out of
hiding my stolen panties. Not sure if it were the fact, I stole them, or
they were Amy's, or they felt so smooth, when it touched my penis but I got
an immediate erection. I draped my penis in the panties and moved my hand
up and down.  Less than a minute I had my first wake orgasm. This time I
wanted to watch my ejaculation. I did; I had my penis enclosed in the panty
with the tip showing and pointed up toward my chest. I simply moved my hand
up and down a few times when I felt something strange occurring, as if I
were going to pee but not like peeing. I orgasm; semen squirted from my pee
hole.  I was surprised when my semen hit my chest and fist, it happened so
fast.  The semen was warm, white, and sticky.  I wiped my semen with the
panties in my hand.  An indescribable feeling enveloped my body; I felt so
relaxed.  Reaching up

I turned off the desk lamp making my room dark and slipped under the covers
savoring my first awake orgasm.  Before falling asleep, I remembered hiding
the panties under the mattress.

Sunlight touched my face as I tried to remember my actions from the night
before. I jumped out of bed, showered, brushed my teeth, dressed, and had
breakfast.  Today was Saturday and I had agreed to meet my friends at the
playground.  When I arrived back at home, I found my bed made. Shit, I
forgot about the panties. I looked under the mattress, and the panty was
gone. Shit.  My mother knows. She is going to yell at me.  My clean clothes
placed on my dresser ready to put away.  Between my T-shirts, underwear was
something pink. Sure enough, Mom had found the panties, washed them and put
them with my clean clothes. She never said anything. I never asked.

From the first time that stole my cousin panties and used them to
masturbate I knew

I would do it again.  At first, I used the panties to rub against my
erection. I visited my Aunts again making an excuse to go to the bathroom
again.  This time I found on top of the hamper a black bra with red bows
with matching panties.  I had gym shorts on with no pockets. I had to
think, how to get them home?

I slipped out of my shorts, slipped on the panties.  I took off my T-shirt
tried to put on the bra.  I did not know how to put a bra on;

I slipped my arms through the straps when, knock, knock on the door.  Shit,
I jumped, "Just a minute." I put on my shirt and shorts feeling the
material rubbing my nipples and penis.  I walked out of the bathroom. Amy
was there tapping her foot and looking at me strangely.

She said, "What were you doing in the bathroom for so long?"

Oh

God, I said under my breath.  She is going to know I took her panties and
bra.

Maybe, she can see the bra under my T-shirt.  I told Amy, "Nothing, just
took a leak."  I turned and walked away.  As I did, the bra strap slipped
off my shoulder and was hanging out from my shirt sleeve.  When I felt the
strap slipped my hand swiftly moved to cover my thief. Oh God did she see?

Just keep walking. Amy went into the bathroom and shut the door. I kept
walking, said good-bye to my Aunt, got on my bike and headed home with my
stolen goods.

I noticed as I was peddling home the excitement I felt for almost getting
caught.  I felt my heart pounding. I felt the panties rubbing my penis,
which made it hard and the bra was rubbing my nipples making them hard.  I
peddled faster resulting in the silk and lace panties to rub my penis. I
pictured my penis rubbing the parties, and it happened. I orgasm; I creamed
in my gym shorts.  I almost lost control of my bike.  My head was spinning
while my penis squirting semen inside the stolen panties.  Looking down was
a visible wetness growing between my legs.  I could not go home; I would go
somewhere to wait until was dry.

"Hey

Matt," I heard a voice approaching from behind me.  I recognized the voice
as Zack my best friend.  Oh shit. I could not let him see the wet spot; he
would ask what happened.  I did not want to explain the stolen panties, the
rubbing of my penis, and then squirting.  Zack was on his bike, pulling up
beside me; he asked, "What's up Matt,"

I pedaled ahead of Zack trying to think how to cover up my wet spot.
Looking around I saw my salvation, the playground sprinklers were squirting
water into the air.  I could ride my bike into the sprinkles soaking my
clothes, covering the wet spot.

I said to Zack, "Hey, follow me." Riding my bike into the sprinkler, I made
sure I was completely wet, including my gym shorts.  Yes, that worked, I
was soaked from head to toe.  I looked over my shoulder to see if

Zack followed me.  He was wet as I was.

Back on the sidewalk I stopped waiting for Zack to catch me.  Oh God, I
realized the water had made my T-shirt wet, and I could see the black bar
under my T-shirt.  Oh God, would Zack notice.

Zack pulled up beside me dripping wet staring at me. I felt his eyes
looking at my chest knowing he would ask what was wearing under my
T-shirt. How could I explain to my best friend that I stole my cousin's bar
and panties?  How could I tell Zack my wearing Amy's underwear was so
exciting I had an orgasm? I was not sure if Zack knew about wet dreams,
ejaculation, semen, orgasm and masturbation.  Zack did not say anything.  I
crossed my arms over my chest to hide my embarrassment. Looking at Zack
told me why he had not said anything. His glasses had drops of water all
over them.

He was farsighted needing glasses to see up close.  With his glasses wet,
he could not see.  Fortunate for me Zack did not discover the wet spot nor
the stolen bra and panty.  Before

I met anyone else, I needed to get home to take off the bra and panties.  I
told Zack, "I am going home to get into dry things, meet you back here in
fifteen minutes."

Zack responded, "OK, Matt."  As I paddled away

I heard Zack said, "I need to ask you a question when we meet."  What
question? Did he notice and was waiting to make fun of me? All the way home
I worried about what Zack would ask.  At home, I went into my room, shut
the door and removed my soaked clothes. The bra and panties were dripping
soaked. I could not leave the bra and panties wet laying on the floor. My
mother did not ask about my first pink panties, but having a matching bra
and panties she would have questioned. I was going to have to find a place
to hide my stolen girl clothing.

Looking around my room, I looked for a hiding place. Looking at the
dresser, I pulled out the bottom drawer. Beneath the drawer was a void
three inches deep. A perfect place to hide the bar and panties. The silk
material dried fast and now

was about dry. I placed the bar and panties in my newly discovered hiding
place.  My mother would never look here.

I agreed to meet Zack back at the park.

Zack said he had a question, but he did not tell me what it was about.

Was he going to ask me why was wearing a bar?

I had to meet him so if it were about the bra, I would have to stop him
from telling others.  I do not think Zack would tell anyone, we were
friends and friends kept secrets. I met Zack at the playground.  No one
else was around allowing us some privacy.  I asked Zack,

"What did you want to ask me." Almost dreading his question.

Zack spoke slowly and clearly as if he did not know how to ask, "Matt,
promise not to tell anyone?"

I responded, "Sure Zack, what is it?"

Zack stutters, "Well, uhm; I do not know how to ask or where to start."  "I
need to ask you, if uhm, if you, well you know, had any weird dreams?"

I

was relieved; Zack did not mention noticing me wearing a black bra.  I
said, "Zack, did you wake and had wet the bed?"

Zack looked surprised then relieved, "Yes; it was not pee'd, but was white
and gooey.  I had a dream about girls, about my sister. I was in a crowd we
were bumping into each other, and I woke up squirting into my shorts."

I smiled at Zack explaining what little I knew.

Zack sat there his mouth open, not believing what I was saying, he did not
understand the words but was relieved that I knew about the dreams and had
them myself. Zack had a hundred questions, which I tried to provide
answers.  Zack's face showed relief thinking that he was not crazy, that
someone else had these wet dreams, and all boys had wet dreams.  He worried
about having a wet dream about his sister.  He was not sure whether this
meant he wanted sex with her. I told Zack almost everything but did not
mention masturbating with panties and wearing a bra and panties, which has
to remain my secret. The next day, Zack was smiling, and I asked him,

"Why are you smiling Zack?"

He said that he tried that masturbating, and it worked.  He said that he
shot loads of seeeeman.  Sounding as though he did was not sure how to say
the word.

I

was almost caught by Amy my older cousin and Zack my best friend.  I stole
and wore my cousin's bar and panties, as a result I had a wonderful
orgasm. I had discovered that wearing woman silky panties and bar and the
chance of getting caught had increased my sexual release.

I found if masturbate before bed that I would not have a wet dream, and

I would sleep soundly.

I

was a typical horny teenage masturbating nightly. As my understanding of
the women body and sex increased so did my fantasies, and I need to
ejaculate.  I could get off wrapping my penis in the panties but wearing
panties and bra was more stimulating.  I would put on the black silk
panties and matching bra then would walk in front of the bathroom mirror.
I would image me as a woman, with breasts, makeup and a wig.

Sometimes

I would picture myself in a dress and heels pretending to be a woman.  I
found that dressing was an outlet for stress.  I felt relaxed from the
tension of school reduced.  I never wanted to be

a woman. A woman did not have a penis, and I liked my penis. I could make
my penis have an orgasm, which was the most enjoyable.  I was too young to
have a girlfriend and in additions, girls were scary.

On some days when I was alone at my house, I would put on the panties and
bra walk around pretending to act like the silly girls at school.  I would
then dress walking around feeling the silky panties rubbing my penis, which
makes me hard and the bra fastened around my chest rubbing around my
nipples.  I would walk around the house rubbing my legs together hoping I
would have an orgasm.  One day I was alone dressed in my panties and bra, I
was sitting on the toilet rubbing my panties like what I imaged a girl
would.  I had a feeling of being watched and looked around; the bathroom
door was shut, and no one was home. At this point, I looked out the window,
which faced the house next door but could see an upstairs window.  I looked
up at our neighborhood widow but saw no one.  Our neighbor was a retiree
and his wife.  Their children would visit.  I do not know if anyone saw me
dressed.

Ding dong the doorbell rang.  Shit, who can that be.  I pulled on my shorts
and T-shirts.

I did not have time to take off my panties or bra.  Maybe I should pretend
no one was home.  However, whoever it was at the door might

tell my parents and asked me where I was.

OK, I had to answer.

I opened the door to see Mr. Reed my next-door neighbor.  He had a package
that he gave me saying that it was delivered to his house by mistake.

I took the package and said thanks telling him I would give it to my
parents.  He asked, "Matt, are you home alone?"

I looked down, not wanted to see Mr. Reed in the eyes.  "Yea," I replied,
"Just hanging around the house."

Mr.

Reed said, "Just wondering, you took a long time to answer the door I hope
I did not disturb you."  With that comment,

Mr. Reed turned and went back to his house.

Was he watching me, did he see me in panties and bra, or maybe he saw me
naked playing with my penis?  I blushed thinking what if he did.  I came
close again being caught, maybe I was and Mr. Reed did not say anything.
Those nights I made sure the shades were down when I reclined on my bed in
my panties and bar, thinking about someone watching me pretend to be a
girl.

I

was tired with the pink panties and my black bra and panties.  I needed to
find another place to get my girly things. I have stolen from my cousin Amy
and could not go there again. I went to the local mall looking at some
department stores.  I walked down the aisles in the woman's department. The
aisles had rows of panties, bras, slips as well as skirts, dresses and
blouses.  I looked out the side of my eye, not wanting anyone to notice my
interest.  I was so intent on seeing what was on display

I almost bumped into a salesperson.  I started when she asked if she could
help me find something.

I respond, "Aum, well, no, not really, just looking."

She asked, "What are you looking for, maybe something for your Mother,
Grandmother.  You are too young to have a girlfriend," as she smiled at
me. "Well sweetie, if you find something to be sure to find me.  I can help
you to find the perfect item for you."  She said that in such as way it was
almost as she knew I was looking for something for me.  I had two choices I
would have to pay for what I needed, or I would have to shoplift what I
needed. I decided to do neither.

I would be bold sometimes wearing the black bra and panties around the
house.  I took chances that my neighbors might catch me or my parents. One
summer day I was horny deciding to take a bike ride dressed in the bra and
panties.  This time I wore a black T-shirt and black shorts to hide out
under the outfit. If I were fortunate, my paddling would cause the silky
panties to rub my penis, and I would orgasm. I would peddle my bike so the
panties would rub my penis.  It took fifteen minutes for me to orgasm.  I
closed my eyes for a second but lost control of my bike, crashing into
trash cans sitting on the curb. The sudden stop tossed me over the
handlebars and landing in the middle of the trash cans.

I must have hit my head because I woke up with many looking at me. One
called out to call 911; another was kneeling pushing on my leg.  I saw red,
blood, my blood. I felt woozy, dizzy and a buzzing my ear.  I heard, in the
distance, the siren of the rescue squad.

I panic when I realized that my bra or panties might be revealed and with a
group of people looking.  I was a twelve-year-old boy wearing black bra and
panties under my shorts and T-shirt.  Shit, Shit Oh God, the shame to be
discovered.  The students at school would laugh at me.

I had to escape; I tried to move, but the cut on my leg started to bleed.

The emergency unit arrived; they looked at my leg and told me I needed
stitches.  They cleaned the wound, applied a compress, checked my vitals'
signs and received approval to transport.  All of this occurred in a few
minutes. They loaded me onto a stretcher transporting me to the hospital.
On the way, they called my mother saying I

was OK but needed stitches.  She would meet me at the hospital.

At the emergency room and placed on a table.  One male nurse and one female
nurse each on either side of the table started to take my shoes off.  Next,
I knew they would take off my shorts or shirt discovering my secret.

The female nurse started to cut off my shorts.  I said, "No, do not take
them off."  She stopped and I was thinking she understood, but she gave the
male nurse the scissors and said, "Get him out of his clothes, so we a
check for other injuries."  She left the room.  I looked at the male nurse
saying, "I am OK, no other bump, that is OK; you do not need to remove my
shorts or shirt. Pleaseeee."

He responded, "Sorry kid, procedure.  First, you need to sit-up?" I started
to sit up with his help.  He placed his hands on my arms, shoulders then my
back.

I know he felt the bra strap. He patted my back again. He told me to lie
down.  He hands checked my neck, arms then my chest and stomach.  As he
touched me, he asked whether it hurts or not.  I told him no.  I know he
felt the bra; you cannot have missed feeling the bra.  The female nurse
came back questioning why my shorts and shirt had not been removed.  The
male nurse said he checked, and I had no other injuries and no need to
remove his clothes looking directly not her eyes.  He told here, "No need
to embarrass the patient by removing his clothes, it is not something we
need to do."

The doctor arrived, looked at the wound on my leg.  He said, "Son, you are
going to need stitches. I am going to give you a two shots.  One will be
for Tetanus and one to numb the leg."  He loads the syringes with something
telling me he would have to inject in your backside.  I panic again.  When
it could not get any worse, the male nurse asked the Doctor, whom he could
give the injection. The Doctor said

OK.  The male nurse pulled down my shorts and panties with one motion,
swabbed the area with alcohol and injected me quickly.  The injections were
all over in seconds.  No one noticed the black panties.  I was not sure if
the male nurse knew, I think he did, but he never said anything.  The male
nurse provided a pair of crutches, told to stay off my leg for a few days
and return to have the stitches removed.

My mother picked me up, drove me to pick up my bike then home.

All the way she was questioning me what happen.  How did I run into the
curb and trash cans.  I finally had to admit what happen. I looked at my
mother and said that a cat ran across the street, I swerved, hit the curb
and flew into the trash cans, but I did not hit the cat.  She told me to be
more careful.  I limped to my room, shut the door then removed my bra and
panties hiding them in my safe location.

What if I the one of the bystanders discovered I had panties on.

What if the nurses or doctor found my panties or bra?  Would they say I was
weird, immoral, or plain silly?  Maybe my friends would call me a pervert,
or I was not normal, or a sex deviant?

I felt ashamed, guilt and fear for having gone to under dress in panties
and bra. I had two panties and one bra, but I needed to toss them in the
garbage.  I gathered my girly underwear, wrapped them plastic bag then
tossed them in the kitchen trash.  I returned to my room and cried.  I felt
as if I had loss part of me. I felt naked without my girly underwear.  As I
sat in my room, I began to hate me.  Under dressing was my escape something
I enjoyed.

Now I wondered was I crazy and worthless?



The next morning I took the trash out to the curb.  When I did, I retrieved
my girly things.  I just could not give up something that allowed me to
stroke my penis and to orgasm.  A few days later I returned to the
emergency room to have the stitches removed. I was walking with a slight
limp and not needing the crutches; I returned them.

The same male nurse was on duty.

He was the one that removed the stitches.  When he was done, he said that
he was waiting for me to return. He handed me a small plastic bag.  He put
some bandages and a tube of cream into the plastic bag. He said, "I have
put a few things into the bag that you might have an interest. If anyone
asks what is in the bag, just say it is extra bandages.  Only look inside
when you are alone."  I did not understand, just nodded my hand yes.

When I arrived home, I went to my room and shut the door.  In the plastic
bag on the top were the bandages and cream. Below that wrapped in tissue
paper was something soft.  I slowly unwrapped the package, finding several
brightly-colored panties and matching bras, with lace and bows.  The bras
were small, like what most girls would get for the first time, training
bras.  There was a note which said, "Please accept this present from
someone who understands.

I know how hard it is for you to find lovely things to wear.  Please
enjoy."  Paul.

I rubbed the panties on my face, then felt so soft.  I swore yesterday I
was going to give up using woman's clothing to rub my penis but with this
new lovely clothing, I could not help but to slip into them.  A few days
later the doorbell rang.

It was Mr. Reed from next door.  He has a small box that he gave me.  I
thought it was for my parents, but he said, "This is for you.  Our
grandchildren have left a few things over at our house over the years.
They have outgrown these items, and you might get some use out of the.  If
not just take them to Goodwill."  With that said he turned to go home.

I said without looking into the box, "Thanks, Mr. Reed."  I took the box to
my room, shut the door then opened the box.  On top of the box were boy
shorts and T-shirts.  Underneath were a couple of schools skirts and white
blouses. On the bottom was black girl's shoes and white knee high
stocking. My parents were not to be hours; I decided to try on what
Mr. Reed had given me. The clothes were so lovely.

I had my panty and bra from Paul now I put on the school shirt, white
blouse, white knee high stocking and shoes from Mr. Reed.  In my room, I
looked in the mirror, prancing around pretending as a girl would pretend.

I looked like some of the girls at school only flat chested.  I stuffed my
bra with one sock then smiles at my newly developed girly figure.

That weekend I went to the mall to meet Zack.  He was late so decided to
walk in the department store woman's sections to look at the clothing.  As
I walked by, someone tapped me on the shoulder.  It was the saleswoman whom
I almost bumped into.  She asked,

"Do do you need any help?"

Surprised by her questions

I just stammered, "Well, no.  I was just looking. I mean I was not
looking."

She smiles, "Well, maybe you can help me.  I have been several returned
items that cannot be put back on the shelf.

They would be put in the trash, and I would ask that you take them home and
see if you know anyone that can use them."

I said, "OK, I will make sure someone can use them."  She ushered me back
to the checkout counter, next reached down for a package.  She gave me the
package smiled saying, "I have been other returned items available should
you find others that might like them." I left the department store wanting
to see what was in the package.  Just as I was to peek inside, I saw Zack
walking towards me.

Zack said, "What are you up to, Matt?  What is in the bag?"

I responded quickly, "Oh, well... my mother asked me to pick up this
package." As I closed the package to make sure he would not peek inside.

I was anxious to see what

was in the package, I told Zack, "I have to go now; I need to take the
package home, see you tomorrow."  When I go home,

I could not wait to see what the saleslady could have put in the bag.
Opening the bag, there were several items each wrapped in smaller bags.  I
opened the first bag discovering something I had seen in Playboy, I what
was called a corset.  It was like a bra, but it had the material that would
go down to the waist.  From the bottom were several strips of material with
some sort of clips.  The corset had a zipper down the front and lace up the
back like a shoe.  In the next small, package was women's stockings, thigh
high, and size small. In the last small, package was a blond hair wig.

It was shoulder length, bangs in front.

This was the most exciting of all of my gifts.  With this, I would look
just like a girl.

I started cross-dressing by under dressing. So far, I was not caught. If my
father found out about my secret,

I would have been spanked for sure and told that this was wrong to do.  I
had to keep my under dressing a secret.  I kept my women's clothing hidden
in several places so if something was discovered I could maybe explain.  I
was always afraid that my parents or friends would discover my secret but
the longer I was afraid, the further I would dress.  I was so stressed by
the fear of getting caught; I had to have a dress to have an orgasm to
reduce the stress.

Over the rest of my middle school and to my senior year, I suffered from
low self-esteem, constant guilt, depression and felt I wanted to die. I
completed suicide a few times, and later in my senior year of high school
ended in a psychiatric hospital. When I found the right help, and I figured
out what this "crazy" cross-dressing was all about. I realized the demon
inside me was not a demon. Cross-dressing was an activity misunderstanding
by society.  Cross-dressing was a gift to some men. To me, it was a way I
explored my feminine self-expression and effectively satisfied in my closet
cross-dressing actions.  Instead of hating myself for being this way, I
decided to embrace this part of my life. I found a great sense of happiness
and relief. By allowing myself to be myself, I finally achieved a sense of
peace and calmness. Before receiving help, there was once confusion,
self-loathing, and pain. The personal price I paid for trying to conform to
societies "gender role" was substantial. A few years of my youth were
needlessly wasted in confusion.

After college, I continued to under dress.  I was older, had money and
picked up my fetish for lace, satin, silk with bows.  Thongs, boy shorts,
French cut, push up, under wire, corsets I like to under dress and anything
else that looks sexy on me.  I was single working in a large office.  I am
underdressed daily and not one noticed.  Mostly, I wore panties but could
not wear any of my tops at work, too much a chance getting discovered.  I
under dress daily hoping I am not caught.  I enjoyed feeling the my panties
rubbing my cock during the day. I would not wait until I could get home and
finish dressing.  Living alone allowed me the privacy to dress.

Cross-dressing gives me a feeling of relief, as if I had been tense or
anxious and when dressed now I could relax. Over the years cross-dressing
has provided me a sense of naturalness as if being dresses were my proper
state.  I felt more attracted to me when cross-dressed than when dressed as
a man.

I realized there was a connection between how attractive I feel and how I
am dressed. My feeling was heightened by feeling satin or lace or other
flimsy, sensuous fabrics against my skin.  I felt sexual arousal by the
sight of my own body; in stocking, a skirt pulled taut across my thighs,
with my painted fingernails.  All the cues that would arouse me if I saw
them on a woman.

Over the years' women's clothing that I wore has been associated with
sex. Items like bras and panties has become fetish objects by a simple
process of association. I am aroused by the sight or feel of women's
clothing worn by a desirable women, and if I was wearing them.  Wearing
inherently arousing garments leads to arousal.

For me, the sight of a stocking foot in five-inch heels, or a satin dress
pulled taut across a soft belly, evokes the same sexual arousal on me
whether on a woman or another man.

My cross-dressing habit has turned me into the object of my longing,
seeking the look like the perfect woman, thus the need to gain expertness
of it. Cross-dressing for me was liked having an eager and willing woman to
touch and admire. A woman who would pose for you who would let you watch
her touches her and fondles her as much as you like.

One afternoon one of my male coworker Randy wanted to go to the local
sports bar for an after work drink. This bar was next to a Harley Davison
motorcycle shop where you found a few bikers.  Many women from our office
would also go to this bar. People referred the action at the bar to be mild
to wild.  Randy and I order a couple of beers.  Randy challenged me to a
game of eight ball.  Halfway through the game a couple of bikers came over
asking if they could have the next game.  They sat at the end of the bar
next to the pool table watching Randy and I.  I felt uncomfortable being
watched by the bikers.

One of the bikers is looking at me with more interest than finishing the
eight ball game.  Although Randy was taking his shots, I checked my shirt
to see if it were still tucked inside my pants.  I was tucked in, but I
notice my thong moved up on my hip and above my belt line.  The thong was
blue and could be seen through my white T-shirt and my white dress shirt.

I had not had this problem at work but reasoned the bending over playing
pool had caused the biker guy may have noticed I was underdressed in a
woman's blue thong.  I have met some men whom the prospect of a man who
dresses in a woman's clothes is a turn on.  Worse, some of these men treat
cross-dresser as sluts, whore, or bitches.  These men liked to dominate a
cross-dresser with erotic verbal humiliation.  These dominate men sometimes
develops into BDSM play (BD=Bondage and Discipline; SM=Sadomasochism)with a
cross-dresser. The cross-dresser plays the submissive role by being bound,
often gagged and force fellatio or sodomy.

Many men think all cross-dressers are gay, queer, fag cock suckers.  No
definitive research has been conducted to survey the cross-dressing
population. The estimated numbers of gay or bisexual transvestites are
about the same as the general population-or about ten percent. This means
ninety percent of cross-dressers are heterosexual. Some heterosexual
cross-dressers fantasize having sex with men and dressed as women as an
extension of their "women" role. To characterize the sexuality of these
men, bisexual would probably be the best term. However, many cross-dressers
choose to have sex, or fantasize about sex, with women.

Randy called the eight ball in the side pocket and won the game. I told
Randy I had to go pee, but I had to pull the thong down so it would not be
seen.  I went to the stall, shut the door and unzipped my pants.  I heard
the restroom door slam; someone entered.  I peeked out between the stall
doors.  One of the bikers, the one was looking at me.  He walked out of
sight, toward the urinals.  Trapped in the stall, my pants were around
ankles, with my blue thong riding high on my hips. I adjusted the thong to
be below my belt, and my hand moved to touch the material covering my cock.
I felt the same tingling sensation as when the first time I put on the pink
silk panties.

My cock quickly got hard stretching the thong.  My balls slipped out of
their resting place hanging to one side of the gusset and my cock flat
across my pubic area.

I knew the biker guy was going to discover me.  I expected being called a
sissy then told to get on my knees.  I heard the biker footsteps; he came
toward the stall. I was ready for the stall door to swing open.  The
footsteps came closer then changed directions rest room door opened with
the footsteps of the biker disappearing.  Alone in the stall, pants down,
cock up expecting the worst, then I felt rejected.

I pulled up my pants, adjusted my bulge, made sure my thong was pulled down
low on my hips, zipped and buckled my belt.  I washed my hands then
returned to the bar where Randy was talking to two lovely women.  The four
of use found an empty table with Randy and me buying the women a couple of
round's drinks. The two women Sara and Mary said they were in town for a
sales meeting and suggested that we followed them to their motel, a few
blocks away.  A few minutes later I found myself alone with Mary. She led
me by my hand to the bed pushing me onto my back.  She hiked up her skirt
showing off her black high stockings with a matching garter then climbed on
top of me. She took each of my hands in hers holding them above my head the
learning flat on my chest, she started to kiss my neck, ears, cheek then my
lips.

Mary was hot being on top acting dominate.  Mary sat directly over my now
hard cock and started to grind back and forth.  With a quick movement, Mary
moved to a position, so she was not sitting on my face, and her face was
over my zipper. Her hands were fumbling with the belt and zipper while her
wet slit moved over my lips.  My natural reaction was to open my lips and
stick out my tongue so to lick her pussy lips.  I never was good with the
woman's anatomy, so I licked and sucked anything that was in my face.
Amazingly, by accident I hit the right spot because she stopped trying to
get my cock out of my pants and started to moan.  I pulled her body tight
against my face with my tongue buried as deep as possible. In turn she
pulled my zipper down allowing my cock to spring over the thong.

I was sure that Mary had not noticed as she swallowed my hard cock.  As
fast as I could tongue her pussy, she moved her head pumping my cock.  With
one, swift moved; I rolled her over on her back, and now I was on top in
the six-nine position.  Mary reached up to unbuckle my belt. I was seconds
away from being discovered by this hot passionate woman, discovered that I
was wearing a woman's blue thong.

She would discover I was a cross-dresser.  Few women supported male
cross-dressers, and I did wish rejection with Mary. She might have been
turned off by a man in panties.

She had the belt unbuckled; the pants were slipping over my ass.  Within
seconds, I was going to be caught. The only thing I could do, I reached up
and turned off the lights.  I slipped off my pants and in the same, motion
removed the thong.  In the equivalent motion, I changed from the six-nine
position to the missionary position.  I placed each leg on my shoulder
where my cock was opposite here now wet pussy. I teased her by rubbing my
cock on her moist slit.  She started to beg me to fuck her.

I took it slow with putting the tip of my cock into her pussy.  Her
stocking's leg now was rubbing my neck and on my upper body.  I felt Mary's
breasts through her blouse, then in the darkness. I started to unbutton her
blouse.  I could feel her silky bra with lace and bows; the touch of Mary's
clothing was increasing my desire to orgasm.  I was glad the lights were
off, seeing Mary's sexy stockings, garter; bar would be too much for my
sight and touch.  I adore the sight of a woman and wish that someday could
find a woman that would understand, but I did not want to take a chance
with Mary.  I was horny for sex; Mary was willing, and we fell asleep in
each other arms.  I wondered if I should tell Mary I was a cross-dresser