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Part 3

I was lucky when I was growing up to have a sister four years older than me. Our size was pretty similar and I was able to use her clothes. Thats is not to say that I was in her wardrobe all the time but she had one outfit that caught my attention. It was a black velvet skirt and jacket. You have to remember this was the 80’s and she was a fan of Madonna and the Breakfast Club movie. This outfit fitted that style and I loved the look of it. This outfit marked my journey from knicker wearer to cross dresser. At the time I did not realise this and again just thought of myself as experimenting (how naive was I).

By the time I plucked up the courage to raid my sisters wardrobe for this velvet desire I was now regularly wearing tights for my sexual release but I had also discovered a body suit. It was black and snapped together between my legs. It was so tight fitting. I can remember the excitement I felt putting this on and how sexy my body felt to touch. The feeling of being sexy was earth shattering and I remember pressing myself up against a mirror to imagine what it would feel like to have another person on me. I loved that body suit and to this day I prefer them to basques.

On this particular occasion I remember pulling on the tights and then the body suit. I snapped the poppers shut and felt my body becoming enclosed. I then entered my sisters room. I carefully opened her wardrobe and after making a mental not of how everything looked I pulled out the hanger with the skirt and jacket. I pulled the skirt on and then the jacket. I was hooked. It felt as wonderful as what I had hoped. It made a crinkly noise when I moved and the feeling of the netting touching my nylon legs was electric. I felt so light headed but not dizzy. The feeling was excitement mixed with sexy. I felt beautiful but needless to say it did not last long the emotions were too much and it was all I could do to strip before I climaxed.

I remember that feeling so fondly. For the first time in my young life I had truly felt free. Unfortunately whilst I laid on the floor breathing heavy after my climax the thoughts of disgust returned but now they brought a friend. This time the penny dropped. It was not normal what I was doing and therefore I must be gay. That was horrifying. Here I and was barely 13, I had just climaxed after dressing in my mothers tights and body suit and topping it off with my sisters skirt and jacket and now I had to contend with the belief that I may be gay. I hated myself. I cleaned up, I scrubbed at myself, I cried a little and then I put it all in a box in the side of my head and denied it. I promised myself I would not do it again. I promised myself that I was not gay because thats not what people were in my friendship group. I settled on being confused and weak.

Needless to say. I could not keep my promise to myself of not doing it again and my fears of being gay grew every time. I must say at this point I have no issue with people being gay. My fear was based on my age, location and how I perceived the world at that time. It was scary and I had nobody to talk to. The internet did not exist and the battle I started to face then is  a battle I have faced up to a few years ago when I realised crossdresser does not mean gay. There were lots of other things that made me think I was not gay the main one being I did not find men attractive. The problem with this was I did not find men attractive but I like to dress as a woman to climax so surely that meant I was a woman in a mans body and at my age that meant gay.

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