Mtempel
12-11-2019, 12:40 PM
The Boy With The Long Eyelashes
Call me Michelle. It?s a name I chose after meeting an acquaintance of my girlfriend, a beautiful brunette who exuded tremendous feminine energy, positive and cheerful, beautiful and open, flirty and fun, and who had her look together with such confidence and glamourous sexiness. Her butt looked really cute in designer jeans. And since I was blessed with a bit of junk in my own trunk I thought I could pull off the look too. I was self conscious of my, let?s say, ample posterior as a child, but I learned to embrace it as I grew older and my dressing became a bigger part of my life.
You see I?ve been crossdressing for as long as I can remember. From my earliest days of fantasizing about the models in the Sears catalogue to eventually trying on my mother?s braziers and girdles and dresses. Eventually I would buy my own wardrobe and after several guilty purges of it, I?ve come to accept that Michelle is part of me and I will never be able to throw her away. So, my wardrobe grows and my confidence as a woman has increased. In fact, I?m very proud of the way I look now.
I was very attracted to girls as a child. But I wanted to more than be with them, I wanted to be them. I observed their mannerisms and how they dressed, moved and talked and the activities they engaged it. I found them such lovely and fascinating creatures. I envied them. I was more than just the sexy lingerie they could wear or the cute skirts and tops and heels. I loved their long hair and how they had options on how they could wear it. The beautiful jewelry they adorned themselves with. The countless makeup options they had. Boys were so dull by comparison. And while I was never sexually attracted to boys or men, I did also envy the way females attracted men. I wanted to be that desired also.
I wasn?t always Michelle. In fact I didn?t adopt that name until well into adulthood. As a young pre-teen I obsessed with the girls at school and which ones all the boys talked about. The ones that had that special something that sexy spark that drove boys crazy. During the holidays the jocks would give the special girls large, thick candy canes as gifts. Some of the girls would playfully suck on them in class and the boys would just snicker at each other. I was extremely shy and never talked to those special girls and I think they knew I couldn?t help but stare at them and be in awe. Maybe they knew I wasn?t interested in them that way.
I would dress any chance I could get some privacy and access to clothes and try to emulate the girls in my school. Mostly it was my mother?s clothes. I didn?t have any sisters. I would also volunteer to dog sit at my friend?s house when he and his family went on vacation. His sister was about my size and had a nice collection of dresses and outfits I would try on. She even had some tights that hugged my body just right. I would spend all day in her room, lying on her bed in her nightgown, imagining I was her. I?d wonder what the neighbor boys would say if they saw me. Would they desire me ? it made me excited and a little embarrassed. But mostly it was a big thrill.
Dressing secretly is difficult in a house filled with family. My mother caught me once wearing her bra and didn?t really say anything. What do you say? I was extremely embarrassed and vowed to be more careful in my dressing. But I really couldn?t wait to move to my own place and pursue my passion without fear of being discovered.
School and other pursuits eventually led me to college, but because I always had roomates dressing was for the most part pushed to the wayside. On occasion I would go down to the common laundry area and see if any girls had left a cute pair of panties in the dryer, which I would appropriate and enjoy wearing under my boy clothes. I had several girlfriends throughout college and for the most part my dressing was very limited. I do recall once after I slept over at a girlfriend?s apartment and she had to go off to class, to finding her panties from the night before in her hamper. They were purple, satin with some lace . I couldn?t help myself and had to try them on and roll around back in bed. I loved her, but omg the thought of being her and being a woman was a thought I could not shake. Let?s face it Girls Rule and Boys Drool!
Call me Michelle. It?s a name I chose after meeting an acquaintance of my girlfriend, a beautiful brunette who exuded tremendous feminine energy, positive and cheerful, beautiful and open, flirty and fun, and who had her look together with such confidence and glamourous sexiness. Her butt looked really cute in designer jeans. And since I was blessed with a bit of junk in my own trunk I thought I could pull off the look too. I was self conscious of my, let?s say, ample posterior as a child, but I learned to embrace it as I grew older and my dressing became a bigger part of my life.
You see I?ve been crossdressing for as long as I can remember. From my earliest days of fantasizing about the models in the Sears catalogue to eventually trying on my mother?s braziers and girdles and dresses. Eventually I would buy my own wardrobe and after several guilty purges of it, I?ve come to accept that Michelle is part of me and I will never be able to throw her away. So, my wardrobe grows and my confidence as a woman has increased. In fact, I?m very proud of the way I look now.
I was very attracted to girls as a child. But I wanted to more than be with them, I wanted to be them. I observed their mannerisms and how they dressed, moved and talked and the activities they engaged it. I found them such lovely and fascinating creatures. I envied them. I was more than just the sexy lingerie they could wear or the cute skirts and tops and heels. I loved their long hair and how they had options on how they could wear it. The beautiful jewelry they adorned themselves with. The countless makeup options they had. Boys were so dull by comparison. And while I was never sexually attracted to boys or men, I did also envy the way females attracted men. I wanted to be that desired also.
I wasn?t always Michelle. In fact I didn?t adopt that name until well into adulthood. As a young pre-teen I obsessed with the girls at school and which ones all the boys talked about. The ones that had that special something that sexy spark that drove boys crazy. During the holidays the jocks would give the special girls large, thick candy canes as gifts. Some of the girls would playfully suck on them in class and the boys would just snicker at each other. I was extremely shy and never talked to those special girls and I think they knew I couldn?t help but stare at them and be in awe. Maybe they knew I wasn?t interested in them that way.
I would dress any chance I could get some privacy and access to clothes and try to emulate the girls in my school. Mostly it was my mother?s clothes. I didn?t have any sisters. I would also volunteer to dog sit at my friend?s house when he and his family went on vacation. His sister was about my size and had a nice collection of dresses and outfits I would try on. She even had some tights that hugged my body just right. I would spend all day in her room, lying on her bed in her nightgown, imagining I was her. I?d wonder what the neighbor boys would say if they saw me. Would they desire me ? it made me excited and a little embarrassed. But mostly it was a big thrill.
Dressing secretly is difficult in a house filled with family. My mother caught me once wearing her bra and didn?t really say anything. What do you say? I was extremely embarrassed and vowed to be more careful in my dressing. But I really couldn?t wait to move to my own place and pursue my passion without fear of being discovered.
School and other pursuits eventually led me to college, but because I always had roomates dressing was for the most part pushed to the wayside. On occasion I would go down to the common laundry area and see if any girls had left a cute pair of panties in the dryer, which I would appropriate and enjoy wearing under my boy clothes. I had several girlfriends throughout college and for the most part my dressing was very limited. I do recall once after I slept over at a girlfriend?s apartment and she had to go off to class, to finding her panties from the night before in her hamper. They were purple, satin with some lace . I couldn?t help myself and had to try them on and roll around back in bed. I loved her, but omg the thought of being her and being a woman was a thought I could not shake. Let?s face it Girls Rule and Boys Drool!