Claire s Conception Part
- 3 years ago
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Life Story Part 2 free porn video
I tried to stand, but as I mentioned before, I had never worn women's
shoes before - except of course at the Shoe Store - but this was the
first time I had ever tried to stand or walk wearing them. I was shaky
at first, and I almost fell over, but I steadied myself on the top of
the chair, and I managed to walk a few steps. Angie told me that I was
a natural and I told her that I wasn't sure I could walk in these. They
were only two inches, but they were a far sight from my normal tennis
shoes. I managed to stabilize myself and we left for the party.
The party we were going to was in a house that I describe as a
combination of a house, a barn and a mansion. It was huge, but it was
all barn siding. It was actually kinda nice. At the party, I was able
to fool some of my friends as long as I didn't talk. A few guys
actually grabbed my butt. At first, I was apprehensive, but after a
while (and a few drinks), I was a lot more comfortable. The dress was a
little too short, so I was afraid to sit down. I did manage to find
Angie amidst all of the other people and she was content to let me sit
on her lap so that I could keep my panties from showing.
I don't remember much after that. I know that Angie drove us home, and
I managed to get to my bed in my dorm room - though I have no idea how.
My shoes were situated by the side of the bed and I awoke still wearing
the rest of my outfit. I was starving, so I called Angie when I woke up
in the morning and asked her if she would like to go get lunch. She
asked if I was still wearing the costume and I told her that I was. She
asked me why I hadn't changed yet and I lied and told her that I had
just woke up. In actually, I had been up for about an hour. I just
liked wearing the outfit.
So I changed for lunch, taking time to wash off all the makeup. My
eyelashes were still dark though and I guess mascara tends to stick a
little. I was content to wear a pair of sunglasses and not worry about
it. But my fingernails were another story. I still had bright red
fingernails and no nail polish remover. Angie lived only a few blocks
away and I figured I could keep my hands in my pockets until I reached
her room.
So I left my room, instantly realizing that I couldn't just keep my
hands in my pockets. I had to lock the door. Then I would have to push
the elevator button. Then I would have to open the door downstairs.
Then I would have to get my keys out of my pocket... the list went on
and on. But yesterday had been Halloween, so I guess I could play it
off.
I don't know if the looks I was getting were actually directed at me or
if I was hypersensitive to the stares of others, but I noticed a lot of
people noticing my red fingernails.
I still dwell on the fact that I had not one but two women making me
over. And I didn't have to pay for it.
During the Summer, I was out of school and I didn't have a place to
stay on campus. So for the first few Summers of college, I stayed at my
parent's house. The lingering memories of what had happened before with
Mom catching me still haunted me, so I dared not sift through her stuff
in the bedroom.
So I decided to yet again get my own stuff. For my own personal
protection, I can't say where I stored it, but it was away from the
house. I had a place that I could go, in relative peace and quiet, to
try on new clothes and just be "me." And I knew each week that I
wouldn't have to worry about being caught, because no one knew about my
location but me. So I bought more clothes. At the time, I was working
as a cashier and I had my own car. During my lunch breaks, I would
drift over to the second-hand stores (God sends, by the way) and buy a
few outfits. I would store them in the trunk of my car under the spare
tire until I could manage to find time to get them to my "hiding
place."
It was about this time that I discovered yard sales. It was Summer
time, and yard sale season was in full swing. All I had to do was go
somewhere that I'm not known and pay cash. I got really lucky one day
and caught a yard sale as they were closing down and was offered
everything they had left for 10 bucks. I quickly agreed, as most of the
clothing was women's and in my size, and stuffed it all into the trunk
of my car. I managed to last almost a week before I could get to my
hiding place to store this stuff and try it on. The worst part was
worrying that someone might notice the big black trash bag in the back
of my car and ask me about it (I had a hatchback). No one asked, and I
was in the clear.
I know I spent a few hours trying stuff on. I was in Heaven again. I
had everything-panties, bras, pantyhose, garterbelts, stockings,
dresses, skirts, blouses, shoes, wigs, jewelry, make-up, even a set of
fake breasts. I finished up with trying everything on and sorted things
by order of what fit me the best and what went with what. I couldn't
wait until next week to do this again.
I returned the next week only to find that my hiding place had been
discovered. A local organization had purchased the building and they
had decided to give all of its contents away to local charity -
including my stuff. I was devastated. It would be almost a year before
I had an opportunity to dress again.
I got my first "girlfriend" in college. She and I would fool around a
bit almost every night and before long I started - inadvertently -
asking her if she would dress up more often. I told her that I liked
the look of her legs in pantyhose. She was mostly a Tomboy, so the idea
of dressing up wasn't exactly second nature to her. But she did it for
me. Isn't it amazing how good a woman looks when she doesn't normally
dress up and then one day she does? She looks like a completely
different person. The sex that night was amazing - for both of us. She
told me that she would have to buy more dresses. She'd never seen me
like this.
Time passed, and after a while the idea of her dressing up took a back
seat to what she was wearing. I was watching TV with her one day after
another wild session of lovemaking, absent-mindedly stroking her nylon-
clad leg, when she asked me if I had ever worn pantyhose.
Of course I hadn't, I told her. I tried to seem a bit miffed. Then she
asked me if I would.
I was floored. I told her that I didn't think it was a good idea. After
all, girls wear pantyhose, not guys. Then she reminded me of how she
never really dressed up before she met me, and that she went through
all the trouble to doing it just for me, and I hadn't dressed up for
her.
I couldn't argue with her. I told her that I would, but that I would be
incredibly embarrassed. Like I said, women are supposed to wear these
"things," not guys.
She told me that it was okay and that there was nothing to be
embarrassed about. And she handed me a pair of her panties and a pair
of black pantyhose. I excused myself to the bathroom and changed. I
took a long time, because I didn't want her to know that I knew how to
do this. After I had put on the panties and the pantyhose, I put my
jeans back on over them, along with my socks.
I presented myself back in the living room. She asked me if there was a
problem and I said no. She said that she couldn't see the pantyhose. I
told her that I was still a little embarrassed, but I was wearing them
under my jeans. She told me to take off my jeans. She wanted to see
what I looked like in hose. I argued that I wouldn't be wearing
anything over my nether regions and she told me that she had a solution
for that. With that, she handed me a black skirt with an expandable
waistband. I told her that I would be right back and I went into the
bathroom to remove my jeans and put on the skirt.
And I walked back out, I decided to throw caution to the wind and I
removed my socks.
She giggled at first and I turned to go back to the bathroom. She
stopped me by patting the couch and telling that she was sorry. I sat
down beside her and sighed. She took my foot in her hand and began to
give me a foot message. I had never felt anything like this before. It
was amazing - having someone else touch my nylon-clad foot. Before I
knew it, I was asleep. When I awoke, she asked me what I thought of
pantyhose. I told her that they were alright. She asked me if I would
try on a few other things-just for fun. I said sure and we were off.
That night, I tried on almost every outfit she owned and several pair
of pantyhose (to match the outfits). After a few hours, she said that
it was really odd that I hadn't ripped any of her pantyhose. Even she,
she told me, had ripped a few pair when she was getting dressed. And
she had presumably more experience at this than I had. I told her that
I was just lucky, I guess, but she forced on. And you seem to be
enjoying yourself, getting all dressed up like a girl. With that, she
took my hand and asked me to sit beside her. I was wearing a black top,
a pink skirt and nude pantyhose. She took my right hand and sat it on
her leg. She then reached over with her right and picked up a bottle of
pink nail polish. Without saying a word, she began to paint my
fingernails. When she was finished with my right hand, she switched
places with me and painted my left. She told me to wait for that to
dry, and then remove my pantyhose. I did as I was told, again without a
word, and she proceeded to paint my toenails.
From that day on, for a couple of years, I had a confidant in my
dressing. I ended up telling her about my obsession and she told me
that she already knew. We spent many a day and night doing each other's
make-up and trying on each other's clothes. She never wore a dress for
me again - but insisted that I do if I wanted any further "action."
She graduated before me and moved away. We kept up with correspondence
for a couple more years, but eventually she got married. We haven't
spoken in years.
Over the next couple of years, I had several relationships. Inevitably,
I would tell almost all of them about my secret. Some of them handled
it well, others took it badly. But none of them took "to" it.
I was beginning to get used to the idea of never dressing again for a
woman. Then I met her. We'll call her Nicole. She and I took to each
other immediately. She was a free spirit who regularly wore dresses and
skirts. She had an immense collection. We quickly became friends, and
almost immediately, I told her about my (as I was calling it then)
problem. To my shock, not only was she not surprised, but she told me
that she had previously dated a guy that was the same way. I asked her
to marry me on the spot. She refused. She had to get to know me a bit
first, she said.
We were thick as thieves for months after that. We went shopping
together and bought new outfits. I would give her runway shows at her
apartment. She would compliment me on my choices or tell me what
outfits I need to return. She insisted that whenever I come over, I
bring my own clothes, since hers were beginning to get damaged. I
agreed but asked if I could keep them at her house. She said yes,
except that I had to keep my panties, pantyhose, and bras at my house.
I told her that I could do that. She told me to show up the next day
wearing all of my underclothing. I quickly agreed.
Nicole's apartment was on the second floor of an apartment building.
The stairs were inside and they wrapped around to the back of the
house. On the door was a note that read "Take off all your male clothes
and place them in front of the door, then knock." I figured it was
harmless, since no one could see me anyway. I removed my clothes,
folded them, and placed them on the stair in front of me. Then I
knocked on the door. She opened the door and told me to stay where I
was. With that, she scooped up my male clothes and left a bag. She then
closed the door and locked it behind her.
I wondered what was going on, but I was instantly aware of my
surroundings. There was a window just down the stairs from me. The
apartment had two other tenants downstairs, and either or both of them
could be coming home or leaving at any moment. It was still daylight,
and I could clearly see the street through the open window. I had no
choice. I opened the bag.
Inside was a pair of black sandal-type heels, a two piece dress, a pair
of handcuffs, a ball gag, a blindfold, and a note. The note read "put
on all of the clothes, then gag yourself, then put on the blindfold,
then cuff your hands behind your back."
I did as I was instructed. I was left standing on the stairs wearing a
frilly dress, heels (which are very hard to put on while standing on
stairs), blindfolded, and gagged, with my hands cuffed behind my back.
I turned my body to knock on the door, but no answer. It was probably
five minutes, but it felt like an eternity, before she finally opened
the door and I flew inside.
More to come...
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