After we were married I thought my dressing days were over. That
is to say that I just figured that I wouldn't have the desire any more.
WRONG! It did actually go into 'hibernation' for a year or so, but it
wasn't too long before that old familiar urge began to creep back into
the picture. If you've been crossdressing long enough you know what I'm
talking about. On the other hand, if you think that you will forget
about it after you get married, you are in for a very rude
awakening.
Now I'm not bragging, oh, well, I guess I am. Anyway, where was I, Oh
yeah, I was going to say that I wasn't bragging, but my wife was - and
still is for that matter - a very beautiful woman. She's the kind that
could take a pair of painter's overalls, a threadbare flannel shirt, a
tube of lipstick and a little eye shadow and look like a Ralph Lauren
model if she had an inclination to do so. At least that's MY image of
her. Well, the very sight of her when she would get ready to go
somewhere coupled with the ready access to her 'tools' (i.e. clothes,
lingerie, makeup, etc.) must have been one of the catalysts that
brought my urges back to the surface stronger than they ever had been
before. This was a major disaster for me since I knew she would never
understand it due to her traditional southern upbringing. Why should I
expect her to understand it... I didn't even understand it myself! In
her mind any male who would even WANT to do something like that was
just plain weird and needed to get in touch with a head shrink - the
sooner the better.
Two years after we were married our daughter was born. Five years after
that our son came into the world. So now I was a proud father - with
all the rights and responsibilities that went along with it. I was also
extremely restricted in the times and locations I could dress up and it
was getting more and more difficult to find time alone to do so. Like
most crossdressers do, I began to take dangerous risks. By the way, if
you think you can get away with it and you don't think YOUR wife or
girlfriend will ever find out, or at the very least start getting
suspicious, you'd better have your "thinker" examined. You can be
assured that it WILL happen sooner or later so you need to go ahead and
bite the bullet and get it out in the open voluntarily. It'll make it a
lot easier on you as well as your significant other if you try to
explain it to her rather than her coming in unexpectedly and finding
you all "decked out and dolled up" in your finest. Gather all the
REPUTABLE information you can get your hands on and be prepared to
spend a L-O-N-G and uncomfortable talk with her for openers.
Now, where was I? Oh, yeah, now I remember.......
Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later. She took the kids to a
local skating party one night and was going to stay until it was over.
I had it figured they would be gone about 2 hours or so. I took the
opportunity to "slip into something more comfortable" and wouldn't you
know it, in she walked (thankfully she had left the kids and was going
to go back and pick them up later). I won't even try to describe what
followed. Let's just say that I'd rather have had to walk over three or
four miles or red-hot coals while squirting a stream of gasoline out in
front of me. Nothing else was said after that night, but the proverbial
cat was out of the bag.
A funny thing happened a few years later. One of the local
organizations was having a fund raising event in the form of an all
male Miss America pageant. A bunch of the guys I knew started to dare
each other to enter in the fun and to make a long story short almost
all of them, me included, took the plunge. (I've often wondered just
how many of those guys actually secretly jumped at the opportunity to
enter this thing) A lot of preparation took place prior to the big
event and one of the major hurdles that just about all the guys faced
was to find a dress that would fit and be appropriate for such a
'sophisticated' occasion. We happened to be lucky and had a close
friend who was a rather 'tall drink of water' and it just so happened
that she had such a long slinky dress in a black chiffon with sheer
sleeves. I also appropriated a long dark colored wig and a pair of
patent leather high heels somewhere and the stage was set.
The day of the big event finally arrived and I never let it be known to
the wife but I was as excited, no wait - MORE excited, than a 5 year
old kid on Christmas eve. When the time came to get ready I took a long
hot shower and when I got out, the wife made a seven-word statement
that will live and echo forever in the halls of my memory. Her exact
words were, "You better go put your dress on." YOUR dress she said! MY
wife told ME to go put MY DRESS on! She has no idea how that sounded to
me. She didn't come to the bedroom to watch me dress, but rather left
it up to me. To say that I was thrilled to actually have permission to
wear a dress and all the trimmings that went along with it would be a
gross understatement. I savored the moments when I pulled on a pair of
her panties, put on a black lacey bra (water balloons filled it out),
slid on a pair of nylons, and finally slipped in to that slinky black
dress and the high heels.
After I got dressed she set about making me up and then placed the
crowning glory (the wig) on my head and bobbi-pinned it in place. She
fussed over it for several minutes until she finally announced that I
was ready to go. I got up and went to look at myself in the mirror.
There are not words to describe the way I felt. I could and would have
cried big time, but I knew it would ruin her makeup work if I did, so I
choked it back just as the tears started to well up in my eyes and just
stared at the image in the mirror. Oh, I'm sure as far as true feminine
beauty is concerned I was no real beauty queen (although I DID win the
Miss America title at the 'pageant'), but I was on fire inside once
again. Maybe it was what I was looking at, maybe it was what my MIND
visualized that I was looking at, or maybe it was because this had all
come about with the wife's knowledge and permission, or maybe it was a
combination of these and several other factors. What ever it was, I
knew that I just couldn't let this be the last or only time I ever did
this. The exhilaration was just too much to not want to do it again.
(and again, and again, and again, etc.)
After the pageant was over the same bunch of guys started daring each
other again. This time to go, dressed as we were, to a local restaurant
for coffee and a snack. Just as before most of us ended up taking the
dare and off we went to the restaurant. As we went in (I had to be the
first to go in since I was the one with the winner's tiara on my head
and the bouquet of roses in my arms) everybody there got a big 'kick'
out of it and all too soon, much to my sorrow, it was all over with and
reality once again took over.
I've had high hopes that an opportunity like this would present itself
again, but it never has. I've dropped hints in the fall like "We should
have a Halloween party this year" thinking that maybe we actually would
and I'd get to do it once more, but nothing has ever materialized from
my suggestions.
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