Lesley's Story free porn video

Lesley's Story When I was three years old my Father was killed in a motoring accident. I was too young to understand exactly what had happened but realised my Mother was utterly distraught with grief and so in love with my Father that she has never ever wanted to be involved with another man again. That does not mean that she insulated herself from the rest of the world, on the contrary, she has many friends and enjoys an interesting and varied social life. I am there only son, in fact, their only child, my name is Lesley. We live in a rather nondescript town in the middle of England. Our house is detached with a nice garden and surroundings on a quiet suburban road. The insurance from the death of my Father covered the mortgage on the house and left enough capital for Mum not to have financial worries. However the money was not sufficient to live on, so Mum had to take a full time job. She is a qualified bookkeeper and found no difficulty in obtaining a reasonably paid full time job in a town nearby. When I was very young my Mother used to drop me at a child minding service in the morning and collect me on her way home in the evening. She must have felt a pang of guilt about leaving me in the care all week as she devoted all her time with me at weekends, to the exclusion of everything else. I adore my Mother and not having a Father grew very close to her. Although she no longer showed any interest in other men, she always looked immaculate, morning, noon and night. My Mother looks gorgeous; she is slim about five foot six tall, always smartly dressed, hair perfectly groomed and makeup understated but immaculate, never scruffy or unkempt. As I grew older, I could not do enough for my Mother, I always wanted to help around the house and to please her in any way that I could. My help I hoped would ease my Mother's busy life as full time worker and full time Mum. By the time I was ten, we had stopped needing any child minders and I would come home from school and help around the house. I would make the beds, clean the house and start to get things ready for dinner together. Mum was really pleased and this made me pleased. I still wanted to do more for this Mother I so adored - I wanted to be like her, to model myself on her to show her how much I loved her. I encouraged to show me how to be more helpful around the house and by the time I was 14 I could cook, help with the washing, help look after the garden and do some of the shopping and between us we kept a really good house. This was never at the expense of my school work and I always had reasonable grades. It was around this time I started to look at myself. I am about the same height as my Mother and very slim, without being skinny, I have slim features with long legs and long slim hands and I had let my blondish hair grow fairly long, as I wanted it to look like my Mother's. She did not seem to mind and used to tease me a bit by saying we should go together to her hair salon to get a matching look. I laughed with her, but after a time I began to think I really would like this to happen. Eventually, I suggested this to her, but she said "Do you want to look like a girl?" "Of course not" I said "Just because we would have similar styles would not make me look like a girl, I just want to show you how much I respect you - they say imitation is the greatest form of flattery!". Some weeks later Mother said to me "As you are so keen on having your hair styled like mine, I tell you what I will do. I will help you to properly look after your hair in the way I do myself and give you a more masculine look of my style". I was thrilled and could not wait to start. So at the weekend Mother had me wash my hair using her shampoo and then conditioner. She then gently trimmed my hair and used a hot brush to give my hair more volume and finally teased and combed it out to give a look similar to her own but definitely not a feminine appearance. I was thrilled. She showed me what she had done and within a couple of weeks, I was able to achieve the look on my own. At school everyone commented on my new style and no one suggested that it was in any way effeminate. Besides our hair Mother and I share many similar features. Our skin tone is exactly the same and several of our facial features are similar. In particular, our eyes are the same shape and both are a deep blue colour, of course Mother's eyes always look fantastic because of the subtle way she applies makeup which really shows her eyes off to perfection and people often comment how wonderful they look. One day, I was cleaning Mother's bedroom when I passed her dressing table and noticed her makeup laid out on her dressing table. Out of curiosity I gently applied a light coat of eye shadow and was amazed how it enhanced the appearance of my eyes. So I carried on with my house cleaning, admiring myself whenever I passed a mirror. Of course, I cleaned it off before Mother got home. After that, every day after school, I would apply a subtle coat of eye shadow, I even got to using as little mascara as well and this really did enhance my eyes. I always made sure I had cleaned the makeup off before Mother got home. One day, after school, I was in the garden cutting the grass and completely lost track of time and it was only when I heard Mother calling out to me that I realised she was home and I was still wearing eye makeup! What to do? I decided to just bluff it out and say I had done it for a joke, just to imitate the way she looked. So I strolled up to the house, where Mum gave me the usual hug and kiss on the cheek, but she did not say one word about my eye makeup. At first I thought that she had not noticed, but as the evening wore on, we were together a lot preparing and eating supper and then watching some television, she clearly had noticed but perhaps so as not to belittle me chose not to mention it. A few days later, I was again wearing eye makeup and was just about to remove it before Mother got home when I decided to see what would happen if she once again saw me with it on. She arrived home and, as usual gave me a hug and kiss and once more never said a word about the makeup. From then on, as soon as I got home from school, I would apply the eye makeup and in fact got really good at applying it to give a subtle but very effective look to my eyes. Mother never ever made a comment. One Saturday, about a month later, Mother was working in the morning and because it was the weekend, I got up somewhat late and came down to the kitchen to make myself a cup of coffee and there on the kitchen table was a small box carefully wrapped and addressed to me. I thought this was strange as it was not my birthday or anything. Anyway I unwrapped it and there was a note from Mum which just said "I love the way your eyes look these days" and inside was a whole range of eye shadows, mascara, pencils and bits and bobs for applying the makeup. I was thrilled that Mother clearly did not mind me wearing the makeup. By the time Mother got home at lunchtime, I was dressed and had applied my eye makeup. I rushed up to her, kissed her and said "Thank you so much for my lovely present, but I am worried that you may think that it makes me look like a sissy." "Nonsense" said Mother "Many young men wear a little makeup these days, particularly celebrities and no one accuses them of being sissies". From then on I wore my eye makeup every day and I even started to lightly apply some for school. Of course, people noticed but all my friends seemed to think it was cool and rather adult. I have also plucked a few stray hairs from my eyebrows, nothing drastic, just to define them better and sometimes I use an eyebrow pencil to darken my blond brows, this adds to the look of my eyes. During the summer school holidays after my fifteenth birthday, Mum got a promotion at work, which meant more money but also more responsibility. To celebrate Mum booked us a holiday together at Malaga in Spain. The hotel was fabulous and enjoyed a lovely swimming pool with lots of area for just lounging about. One day whilst we were sunbathing, Mum asked me to rub on some suntan oil for her. I enjoyed doing this for her and noticed how soft and smooth her skin felt. I said to her "You have such lively soft and smooth skin Mum, I wish mine was just like yours." "It can be, if you want" She replied "It is just a question of using the right oils and creams when you bath and after you shower. Would you like me to show you what to do?" "That would be great Mum, when can we start?" "As soon as we get back to England, I will get you your own oils and creams and show you how to use them" "I cannot wait" I replied. Whilst in Spain, I met a lovely girl called Rebecca, who was the same age as me. We got on really well and she would often join us in the evening when there was music and dancing in the hotel function room. Mum was always being asked to dance, quite often by some really handsome and personable men and whilst she clearly enjoyed the attention and conversation, the men soon realised that things would go no further. That was not quite the same with Rebecca and I. We used to find opportunities to sneak off and have a gentle kiss and cuddle. There was nothing too serious though, because we both had too much respect for each other to get carried away. Mum was delighted that I was showing an interest in a girl and always wanted to know what we had been doing. I am so close to my Mum that I find it easy to tell her the most intimate details and I know she respects me for this openness. Rebecca is just a bit smaller than me and is as dark as I am blond. She has ravishing raven hair, always dresses very smartly whether casual or more formal and when she smiles it lights up the whole world. She told me that she loves the way I dress and adores the fact that I wear eye makeup. She raves about my hair and tells me she is so glad to meet a boy who is so gentle and courteous, who clearly likes to present himself in a clean and attractive way. When we left Malaga for England, Rebecca and I exchanged addresses and telephone numbers and agreed to keep in touch. I did not hold out a lot of hope for this as she lived so far away from us. As soon as we were home Mum popped out shopping to stock up the fridge and get enough food for the next week. When she returned she handed me a bag of various bottles and tubes which she said I would need to get my complexion to look like hers. I was thrilled that she had remembered our conversation. I immediately started using the various solutions and creams and within a few weeks my skin had achieved a much softer and pleasant feel and appearance. As this developed I became more aware of my very modest body hair which seemed to spoil the look and appearance of my skin. I at once decided to shave my legs and armpits to give me the look and feel I so enjoyed. Mum has noticed and indeed felt my much softer skin and told me how she thinks it improves and helps my appearance. I do not have a very heavy hair growth on my face and I use the very latest shaving equipment to give me a really close shave, but it still irritates me that my face is not as smooth or soft as I would like. Mum's new promotion means she is working longer hours than before and I have insisted she lets me take on more responsibility for running our household. She keeps on telling me that I am the best son a mother could ever want and is always hugging and kissing me. I so love her appreciation that I want to help even more and be rewarded by more affection. I now look after all the house cleaning and the laundry as well as doing most of the household shopping. I do not ignore my school work and still produce good school grades. Because of Mum's improved financial position she has given me some money to get some new clothes as she says my existing range of clothes is looking a bit dated and tired. I went to a large town near where we live one Saturday morning with the intention of adding a range of new clothes to my wardrobe. The more I looked the more depressed I became. I wanted some new jeans but everywhere I looked they were very stiff and very plain. Looking at the women's selection and there was so much variety in cut, designs, colour, embroidery and shape. In fact I bought a pair of ladies jeans which were sufficiently understated to be regarded as unisex. I wanted some new shirts but found they were all so boring and uniform that I could not find anything that grabbed my attention. I was just leaving the shopping centre, when I saw the most beautiful shirt is a shop display window. It was crimson red with long sleeves and flared cuffs, contrasting buttons and some subtle embroidery on the collar. It was exactly the sort of shirt I was looking to buy. I went into the shop and a lady assistant asked me if she could be of help. "I am interested in the shirt you have in the window and wondered if you had it in my size." The assistant frowned and said "That is a ladies blouse". "OK" I said "But I would still be interested in the blouse, if you have it in my size." "I am sorry" she said "I would only offer that blouse to women. If you want things like that, there are plenty of places that cater for gays and transvestites". I was mortified and immediately left the shop. That conversation really upset me and I became really depressed. Mum obviously noticed my depressed state and kept on asking "What is wrong with you these days". I always replied "Nothing. I am fine". One night after dinner Mum confronts me and says "Lesley, there is clearly something upsetting you and you must tell me what it is. I thought we were so close, you would not have any secrets from me. I am so disappointed that you will not tell me what has caused you to be so depressed". I really felt guilty for not confiding in my Mum, so I told her. "I went into this shop and asked for a shirt that was in the window. The shop assistant told me it was a ladies blouse and I should not be interested in it unless I am gay or a transsexual. Mum, is she right, if I like things like that, am I gay or similar?". Mum sat back and paused for a time before replying "Do you fancy having a sexual relationship with boys or girls?" she asked. "Mum" I said "You know I only fancy girls". "In that case" she said "You should ignore these remarks. You should wear the clothes that you are comfortable with, whether they are labelled for men or women, there is no point in you wearing clothes that you do not enjoy. I strongly recommend you wear the clothes that make you feel happy and you think make you look good." "So, if I wore a ladies blouse, you would not be upset?" I asked. "Not at all" said Mum. "So long as you feel comfortable wearing the garment. You should always wear clothes that you like. It does not matter if they were aimed at boys or girls". I was much more relaxed when I next went clothes shopping and decided I would take Mum's advise and buy all the things I liked and not be concerned if they came from a menswear or ladies wear collection. In fact it turns out all my purchases came from ladies departments. I got some lovely trousers and jeans and a few really exciting shirts (actually blouses). I modelled them all in front of Mum and she told me how good I looked. One of the problems with the jeans is that the bottom scrapes the floor. I mentioned this to Mum and she told me that the wearer was expected to wear high heels which would avoid the bottoms scraping along the floor. So the next Saturday I went into town to find some boots with a modest heel. I found a pair at one shoe shop, the trouble was that my feet are very narrow and it simply did not fit. The shoe sales man said that the only boot he had to fit my slim feet was a ladies shoe. "OK" I said "Show it to me". He brought the boot to me which was an ankle boot in black leather with a gold buckle across the instep. It did not shout feminine at me, so I tried it on. It had a three inch heel and really looked good with my flared jeans. It also felt very comfortable although I had some difficulty in walking with such a high heel. I bought the pair. That evening I dressed in my new flared jeans and my new boots, together with the crimson blouse that the sales girl had not wanted to sell me (I so enjoyed telling her that her judgement on people was wrong and she should be ashamed of herself). Mum said I looked fantastic and I really should never again be inhibited in my clothes purchasing. So pleased was she that she gave me ?1000 to extend my wardrobe. I was in heaven. Over the next few weeks, I built up a whole new wardrobe of trousers, blouses and shoes. On reflection, I realise they all came from ladies shops and departments. Mum loved it all and was so glad that my depression had disappeared with my new wardrobe. I love the stacked heels of all my new boots, because apart from improving the look of my trousers, I now look the same height as Mum. I have even starting wearing the high heels to school as it makes me look down on people instead of up! All my friends say it has given me a much more confident air and that I am so much more assured and friendly. Everybody seems to like me. I wear high heels so often now and I am so comfortable in them that when I go back to flat shoes, my feet ache. I have even got a pair of high heeled slippers. Mum laughs at me and says it serves me right! Around Christmas time, I got a text message from Rebecca telling me her Dad had taken a new job and they would be moving to a place very near where we lived. I was thrilled to bits. We have exchanged the odd message and occasional telephone call, but it was all petering out due to the distance between us. This news would transform our potential relationship. I really had missed her, but realised there was no future with this because of the distance we lived apart. Her news transformed the possibilities. In early January Rebecca had moved to their new home and I suggested we meet up in town on a Saturday morning for coffee and have a snack lunch and then go to a movie together. She agreed and we met up the following Saturday. If anything she was even more attractive than when we last met. She was wearing a grey, figure hugging knitted dress that fell about 6 inches above the knee and she had on a lovely pair of matching grey court shoes with a 3 inch heels and a pair of champagne coloured tights (pantyhose) which made her legs look fantastic. I was intoxicated by her look, and she could tell because she smiled and said "You really like the way I am dressed, don't you?" "You know how to grab my attention" I told her, She just smiled and said "You don't do a bad job yourself". I was wearing my flared jeans with the embroidered areas, my bright red shirt and 3 inch stacked boots. We had coffee and wondered round the shops and then we grabbed a light lunch before going to a movie. We cuddled and kissed one another during the film and I suppose the petting got slightly heavy, but nothing more. We parted company in the evening and agreed to meet again soon. This is a pretty busy year for me, as I am taking my GCSE Exams at the end of the school year and with Mum being so busy, I have a lot more work to do around the house. Rebecca and I meet up pretty often and we have an enjoyable time together. She now introduces me to her friends as her boyfriend and I really like that. I guess you could say we are an "Item". I have discussed at length with my Mum what I should do after I have finished my exams. I suggested that I would like to leave school and take a part time job which would enable me to really look after the house and garden and leave Mum free to just relax when she comes home from work. I would also like to enrol in evening classes to improve, if not, perfect my French. I love the language and it is one of my GCSE subjects. Mum really feels I should carry on with my education and go to university, but finally agreed to my proposal. The year has flown by, I have been so busy working and studying. I have now finished school and have an interview for a receptionist job at a big local graphic design company. I was very nervous on the day of the interview and spent ages getting ready. I dressed in my best top which is pastel blue, long sleeved with frills on the cuffs and a pleated front and shaped collar. My trousers are navy blue and slightly flared at the bottom which I wore with navy boots that have a chunky three inch heel. I was very careful with my eye makeup and made sure my hands looked immaculate and that my nails were freshly painted. Oh I have been painting my nails for some time now, just using a matt polish which helps to strengthen my nails that I keep just about a quarter of an inch long and neatly filed. I find it makes my hands look longer and more elegant. I realise that not many men would dress this way, but I wanted to be sure that my prospective employer saw the real me. The interview went well and nobody seemed to mind my appearance. In fact I was left with the impression that my look would fit in well at the reception desk. The work is mornings only from 8.30am to 1.00pm and I would have to fill in the afternoons when the other receptionist was on holiday. I was introduced to Janet the other receptionist, she seems very nice and has a good appearance. No jeans or sleeveless vests may be worn to work, other than that there is no dress code except to look smart and well presented. Mum was thrilled to learn that I had got the job and took me out to dinner to celebrate. The work is going well and I soon got into the routine of dealing with all the incoming calls and general emails as well as greeting visitors who come to see our designers. I always make sure that I am really well turned out and I seem to get along with the other members of staff. One of the problems of buying ladies shoes is that they tend to be a bit tight when I am wearing socks in the colder months. It occurred to me that most girls wear tights (pantyhose) which are much finer than socks, so I bought a pair at the weekend just to see if this would help. I tried them on when I got home and wished I had always been wearing them. Not only did my shoes slip on more easily and were far more comfortable but the feeling on my smooth shaven legs is simply wonderful. I love the way they rub against my trousers, I am sure I will always wear them now, even in the summer. I have noticed that now my skin is soft and smooth, my face seems very pale in contrast to my made up eyes. I mentioned this to Mum one evening and she suggested that I consider using a foundation and a blusher. She showed me how she used it on her face and I realised how much it improved her already lovely complexion. I bought my own new cosmetics at the weekend and spent a lot of time in front of the mirror experimenting until I was finally satisfied that my face had the necessary colour without looking as though I had applied makeup. Mum told me that I really did look much more attractive and Jessica squealed with delight when we next met. So now putting on foundation and blusher is added to my morning routine. I was putting away the washing in Mum's bedroom the other day and glanced at myself in her full length mirror as I walked by and realised how effeminate I have become, I really liked the way I look but was not sure it was right. I discussed my concerns with Mum that evening. She assured me once again that if I was comfortable and happy with my appearance, then I should carry on dressing with confidence. I told her "I know the way I dress and my makeup means I look feminine Mum, but I really like to look feminine. That doesn't mean I want to be a girl, in fact I love being a boy and as you know, I am only attracted to girls and one in particular" Mum laughed and said "I also know you are very much a man, but if you want to look feminine and enjoy it then go for it. See what Jessica has to say". At the weekend I explained to Jessica exactly as I had to Mum and she said "Oh Lesley, I love to see you looking so elegant and I would love to see just how feminine you could look. The thought of it really thrills me" and with that she gave me a big hug and a long lingering kiss. I was over the moon. Over the next few weeks, I added more and more to my chosen appearance. I had my ears pierced and wore small diamond studs. I started to use a pale lipstick, I wear false eyelashes. I have bought some shoes with stiletto heels. I have got some tighter fitting trousers. This did cause a problem at first as my male member showed in a very obvious manner in the trousers. I overcame this by buying a thing called a gaffe, which holds said member away. The tight trousers also meant that I need finer underwear, so I now wear ladies nylon briefs. I have had my hair done in a much more feminine way and it looks wonderful. I have started laser treatment on my face to get rid of my beard and have given my eyebrows just a little more shape. One day, I was in a shop changing room, trying on a pair of trousers, when I glanced in the mirror and realised how lovely my legs looked. It seems such a shame to always cover them up in trousers. I went out and selected a couple of skirts to try on and ended up buying a flared black skirt with the hemline on the knee. That night, Mum had invited Jessica round for dinner and she is staying in the spare bedroom overnight. Mum insisted that she was going to prepare the dinner so that I would have plenty of time to get ready. I bathed and towelled myself down before putting on a lovely pair of black panties. I then painted both my toenails and fingernails with a really deep coloured burgundy polish. When the polish had dried, I put on some off white coloured tights (pantyhose) and selected a lovely cream coloured blouse and put on my new skirt and a pair of leather three inch stiletto heeled court shoes. I then set about my hair and fiddled until I was satisfied with the really feminine look. I added a pair of two inch drop silver and black earrings before starting to do my makeup. Mum had already shouted up stairs that Jessica had arrived, but I was making sure I kept them waiting to emphasise my grand entrance. I carefully applied my makeup giving my eyes a little more colour than normal and I finished it off with a dark lipstick to match my nails. I now have a full length mirror in my bedroom. I know I am biased, but when I looked at myself, I thought I looked absolutely gorgeous and so feminine. In particular, I loved my legs which I was showing off for the first time. The heels and colour of the tights (pantyhose) really emphasised the shape. I walked downstairs loving the feel of the skirt caressing against my legs and the gentle breeze wafting up my skirt. This is a new experience for me and one I know I was going to love. I could hear Mother and Jessica chatting away in the lounge. I flung open the door and stepped into the room. The conversation stopped dead as they looked at me and remained silent for what seemed an age. Then they both rushed across to me and hugged me and told me how fantastic I looked and that I should have started to wear skirts years ago as my legs were to die for. I wore my new skirt all weekend and soon got used to handling this new garment, remembering to sweep it under me as I sat down and making sure my legs were always together when sitting. I really loved the feel of wearing a skirt, it was so different from trousers but I found it was more comfortable. "I would love to wear a skirt to work" I said "But I suppose that is a step too far and the last thing I want to do is loose my job, which I really enjoy". "Well why don't you ask your boss" suggested Jessica "I am sure if you explained exactly why your wanted to wear a skirt, she would be understanding". "That really is a good idea" I said "I will make an appointment to see her when I go to work on Monday". On Monday morning, I telephoned through and asked to see Mrs. Wilkinson, my boss and she agreed to see me in the afternoon. I had worn my more conservative trousers and top as well as slightly less makeup than normal on this particular morning, as I did not want to thrust my femininity in front of Mrs. Wilkinson. It was after lunch that I went to my meeting with Mrs. Wilkinson, I said that I am sure she had noticed that the clothing I always wore to work was of a feminine nature and this was because I preferred the look and style of the clothing and that it always fitted my frame better than male clothes. I made it perfectly clear that I am not gay or a transsexual, it was simply my preferred style of dress. "Recently I have started to enjoy wearing skirts and at my girlfriend's suggestion, I have come to ask your permission to come to work wearing skirts" I said. I am sure that mentioning that it was Rebecca's suggestion convinced a very sceptical Mrs. Wilkinson that I was being both genuine and honest in my remarks. "Give me time to think about it and I will come back to you" she said. "We do value your work here and I appreciate your honestly in explaining to me your position, which I believe I now have a good understanding". "Thank you for listening to me Mrs. Wilkinson and I assure you I will respect your decision, whatever that may be". I then left her office and returned to my reception desk, thanking the young trainee who had stood in for me whilst I had been at the meeting. It was not until Thursday that Mrs. Wilkinson buzzed down to me. "Lesley, get someone to stand in for you and pop up to my office". I soon got the same young trainee down to the reception desk and walked up to Mrs. Wilkinson's office and tapped on the door. "Come is Lesley she called" and I went in and she invited me to sit down by her desk. "I have given your request my careful consideration and whilst I have no objection in approving your request, I feel we should give all the staff the opportunity to express their opinion on the matter. I propose that I send a memo to all the staff and explain exactly as you did to me your reasons for asking to wear skirts or dresses to work. However, I will only do this with your agreement. You must realise that if I do send out this memo and the opinion is unfavourable to you, that all staff will be aware of your position and feelings and you still would have to continue dressing as you do now. This may bring you a lot of unfavourable comment". "I have never hidden from anybody the reasons for the way I dress" I told her "I am not ashamed or secretive of my dress habits and I am comfortable that everybody would be aware of my wishes." "Fine" she said "In which case, I will send the memo out tomorrow and give everyone two weeks to comment, in writing, to me. I have to tell you, I sincerely hope the opinion is favourable". The memo went out on Friday. It was very clear and Mrs. Wilkinson gave a lovely explanation of the reason behind my request. I have obviously kept Mum and Rebecca informed of the developments at work. They are both behind me and my approach and approve of the understanding and skill that Mrs. Wilkinson has shown in handling this most unusual request from a member of her staff. I really am a shopaholic and at the weekend Rebecca, Mum and I went to look at skirts and I managed to find just one that I liked after trying on about twenty! The new skirt is a straight denim mini skirt. I wore it all day on Sunday with a bright red T-shirt top 40 denier thick black tights (pantyhose) and flat black casual shoes. I really do look great in this outfit and you get much more exposure of my legs. The only problem is that my feet ache if I stand for too long, as I am so used to high heels. I did try the outfit with heels, but it makes me look slutty and that is the last way I want to appear. I think it may be OK with long boots, but I do not have any and they are fairly expensive to purchase. I must say I am so comfortable wearing a skirt; I hate to take it off. On Monday morning, I was behind the reception desk early. I have dressed in a very conservative manner and wearing less makeup than normal. This is deliberate as I do not want, at present, to over emphasise my feminine looks whilst everyone is considering my proposal. I am sure I have been high on the agenda of everyone's conversation this weekend. A lot of people came up to me and said they really understood my request and congratulated me on being brave, open and honest enough to express my position. Several others looked at me in a slightly suspicious way. Nobody called me a fag, queer, gay, transvestite or any other horrible name often associated with men who wear women's clothes. The two weeks went by very slowly for me, so when I turned into work after the deadline on the Monday morning, I was as nervous as a kitten. Mrs. Wilkinson asked me to come to her office just after lunch. I was really dreading this conversation. She invited me to sit down as soon as I entered her office and was looking somewhat stern. "Well" She said "I have had an objection to your request and therefore I decided to discuss this with the person concerned. After our meeting, where I was able to give much more information about you, he readily agreed to your request to go along with the overwhelming support from the rest of the staff" by now she was really smiling. "I am delighted to instruct you that you may wear skirts to the office whenever you wish". I think I nearly fainted and could not move for several seconds whilst the news sunk in. "Thank you Mrs. Wilkinson, I am so thrilled and I do acknowledge that this would not have come about without your wholehearted support". "It has been a very interesting time for me" She said "and I am delighted with the outcome. So when can we expect to see you wearing a skirt". "I was so unsure of the outcome of this proposal, that I have not purchased any business outfits, at present" I said "I will go shopping this weekend and expect to be on the reception desk on Monday wearing a skirt". When Mum came home that evening, I was so excited about the result at work; I seemed to ramble on for ages. Mum just laughed and said "I am thrilled for you and we had better arrange to go shopping at the weekend to get some business outfits. It would be lovely to have Rebecca come with us". I rang Rebecca straight away and gave her the news. She said she would be thrilled to come shopping with us at the weekend and we agreed that she would stay overnight with us on Saturday. We went into town early on Saturday morning and sorted out several outfits including shoes and tights (pantyhose) suitable for an office receptionist. Skirts are so different from trousers, but I know I prefer them. I love the way they move when I walk, how they drape and caress my legs, even the slight vulnerability of the openness of a skirt is thrilling for me. When we got home, Mum and Rebecca insisted on a fashion parade of my new purchases, so I was in and out with each outfit like a model on a catwalk. For work on Monday we selected the linen suit with a straight skirt which finishes just above the knee with chocolate brown court shoes that have a three inch heel to be worn with a white plain blouse, and natural coloured tights (pantyhose). I have also purchased a couple of handbags (purses) as there are no pockets with skirts. A brown shoulder bag goes well with this outfit. On Monday morning I was up really early to make sure I was perfectly groomed for my first day at the office in a skirt. I don't know why, but I felt much more confident with my appearance and I wore a little more makeup than normal for the office, I even added a hint of lip gloss. As usual I was the first to arrive at the office and of course, everyone came and looked me over as they arrived. Some tried to pretend they were not looking but most people were quite direct. Several came over and said how good I looked. One of the girls said, with a smile on her face, she would never be able to wear a skirt again as my legs were so great they put hers to shame. It is not true; actually she has the best pair of legs I have ever seen. Nevertheless I was extremely flattered. Mrs Wilkinson popped up to the reception desk just before I was leaving and said how pleased she was that all had gone well and told me how sensibly I had dressed and hoped I would continue to present myself in a similar way in the future. It soon became a routine at the office and everybody accepted the way I dressed. I have increased my office wardrobe, which now includes some dresses as well as skirts. I love dresses even more than skirts, because of the way they drape over my body. I often remind myself what Mum told me ages ago, that if I liked wearing something and felt that it was good on me - go for it and use with confidence. So now if I find something I like and look good with it I wear it without thinking what other people may think. I now always wear nail varnish, and do not worry how bright or deep the colour is that I use, I wear more makeup and always some lipstick, however I do make sure it is not obvious and I only wear it to enhance my features; I would hate to look like a drag artist. I always wear earrings and love drop earrings because they show movement and you are always aware that you are wearing them. I try to match them to the outfit I am wearing. I have been having electrolysis to get rid of my facial hair. It took some time and was quite painful, but it has been worth it as my facial skin is now really soft and smooth and it is so much easier to apply makeup. My French has come on steadily and I am now fluent. I so much enjoy speaking French which I think sounds so sophisticated. I am taking a degree at the Open University. It has also proved to be an advantage at work as the company has opened a French office and I am the official translator. This has meant a large increase in salary. In fact there is so much work, the company want me to work full time and I am thinking about this. Rebecca is really bright and clever and is now at St. Andrews University reading History. I miss her being away, but understand that it is necessary. We speak several times a week by Skype so that we can see as well as hear one another and we spend a lot of time together during the university holidays. I take ages to get ready in a morning as everything has to be just right in both clothing and appearance. Detail is important to me, for instance, my nail varnish must match in with the outfit I am wearing. I always do my nails before I go to bed and this sometimes means that I change the colour three of four times in a week. As this often requires two or three coats and perhaps a clear top coat, it really takes up a lot of time. I don't always do my toenails, but if I do they have to match my fingernails. Mum laughs at me for being so meticulous but I so like the result, that I do not begrudge the time. Today is typical, I am up at six for a shower and then to dress, my nails are a steel blue colour to go with my outfit. I get dressed before applying my makeup. A full lined grey leather skirt that comes to about mid thigh, a simple plain cream long sleeved blouse, a wide black leather belt, gunmetal grey three inch stiletto heeled shoes with an ankle strap and grey stockings. I have been wearing stockings instead of tights (pantyhose) for some time now. It all started last summer. I found on really hot days that tights got very sweaty and felt uncomfortable. I stopped wearing them but never liked the bare legged look on me. I tried trousers but I much prefer skirts and I think trousers are less smart at the office. As always I turned to Mum for advice and it was she who suggested I consider stockings. At the next opportunity I bought a pair of stockings and a suspender belt (garter belt). They were a bit fiddly to put on and at first felt a bit weird, but I soon got used to them. They clearly overcame the problem of sweating around my groin area, so I decided this would become the thing to wear on really hot days. It took a little time to get the right combination to suit me. I now only buy good quality suspender belts (garter belts) with metal clips as these are really secure and very rarely come undone. My stockings need to come to the top of my thighs. I find short stockings that come just a few inches above the knee look ugly (I know I am the only one who can see them) and you run the risk that your stocking tops will show when you sit down. I now know the brands that fulfil all my requirements. I began wearing stockings every day in the summer and when the cooler days came I put on tights (pantyhose) again, only to find that they now felt really restrictive compared with stockings, I also missed the pull of the suspenders on my stockings as I moved about. So now I rarely wear tights, they are restricted to really cold days, when I wear a mini skirt or under trousers. Once I am dressed, I sit down at my dressing table to apply my makeup. I again really love to do this. I liken myself to an artist, with my face as the canvas and my makeup as the paints. I want my makeup to highlight all my features without looking at all obvious. I carefully apply foundation, a hint of rouge to highlight and define my high cheekbones. I apply a graduated range of grey eye shadow to emphasise my eyes and blend with my grey skirt and shoes. I apply little mascara to show off my eyelashes and a dark pencil to clearly define my carefully plucked eyebrows. Finally I smooth on a hint of lip-gloss to define my lips. I put in a pair of two inch silver and grey metallic drop earrings to complete my outfit. I stand in front of my full length mirror and this brings a wide smile to my face as what I see in the mirror is fantastic. I love the way I look. I pick up my grey leather clutch handbag (purse) and put in a spare pair of grey stockings (in case I ladder the pair I have on), my keys, wallet, mobile phone (cellphone) and lip-gloss. I then saunter downstairs, savouring my outfit and appearance and head for the kitchen and breakfast. Mum is there just finishing toast and coffee, although she got up after me. She looks wonderful in a maroon two piece suit with matching thick heeled shoes and a striped scarf tied at her neck. She gives me a quick kiss and we both comment how lovely we each look, before she departs to her office. I have some cereal and coffee and decide that I will walk to the office, as I have enough time and it is such a lovely spring day. It takes about an hour, but it is a really lovely walk across a park that goes right to the edge of the business park where our offices are located. I put on a short black jacket and a pair of black leather gloves, pick up my handbag (purse) and leave the house. I have an umbrella at the office in case the weather changes during the day. I am so happy and it must show on my face as I walk across the park. The lovely smell of the spring flowering shrubs and bulbs, the twitter of the birds, the click of my heels on the pathway, the caress of my skirt on my legs and the taught pull of my suspenders (garters) on my stockings, the way the breeze gently wafts up my legs I reflect on how things have changed for me over the years, from the somewhat depressed teenager to my utter contentment and happiness now. It is thanks firstly to my Mum and later to Jessica as well, who both really encouraged me to be myself. I should add Mrs. Wilkinson to this list, as through her I have been able to express myself on a daily basis. I am always putting a person into pigeonholes that describes how I see them. "He's a workaholic, he is macho, she is a feminist and so on". I wondered which pigeonhole I would put myself in. As I walked, I considered myself. I know the way I dress makes me effeminate, but that is all. I am not gay, I have never fancied a boy sexually, I am not a transsexual as this is generally a man who wants to become a woman and will undergo hormone treatment and surgery to achieve this. I like being a man and have no desire whatsoever to go down this route. I am not a cross dresser, this is a man who wears girls clothes from time to time; a man who wants to dress and look like a woman, either closeted or on an irregular basis and rarely all the time. These people add accessories like breast forms, wigs and other accessories to imitate being a woman. I am not that person. I have never worn a bra and would certainly not consider using breast forms. I am happy with my physical appearance and I am not looking for artificial aids to alter it. I do not deliberately buy female clothes, although I accept that virtually all my wardrobe come from ladies departments. When I go shopping I do not head specifically to ladies clothing shops, in fact I usually start in the menswear section and out of frustration end up in the ladies department. I do have quite a lot of menswear in my clothing. I keep fit and go to the gym three times a week, I wear a jockstrap, men's shorts a man's T-shirt, socks and men's trainers and pull my hair into a ponytail. I have quite a few menswear jumpers and a couple of shirts. I wear male pyjamas to bed. True I did try a nightdress but hated it, as it seems to ride up my body overnight and wearing knickers at night was not comfortable. I accept that I am effeminate, I like my skin to feel soft, I like the smoothness of my hairless face and body, I enjoy a scented aroma to my body and because of the way I generally dress; I have developed a lot of female gestures with my arms and the way I walk, also my voice has slightly feminine nuances. I have never come across anyone like me, so perhaps I have a pigeonhole all to myself. On reflection, I do not mind and I am certainly not going to change. I arrive at the office, with a broad smile of utter contentment. I smooth my skirt, as I sit down at my desk and check my face and hair in the mirror I keep in a drawer of my desk. Satisfied, I open the mail and attend to those that fall under my brief, forwarding the others to the appropriate person. By this time the staff are beginning to arrive and all acknowledge me as they come in. I am on all day today. I get a lunch break and nip round the corner to a small baker's shop and but a sandwich then stroll into the park and sit at a bench to relax and eat my sandwich. Several men stroll past and eye me up. I find this amusing; they obviously think I am a woman - if only they knew. I catch one of my stockings on the bench as I get up to leave, by the time I get to the office a ladder has developed. I am so glad I thought to bring a spare pair. I go along to the senior staff rest room and toilet, which is fortunately unisex and change the offending stocking for a new one. Use of public conveniences is the one area that causes me difficulty with my life style. I do my best not to use these facilities, but occasionally find I have to relieve myself. The way I dress, I feel it would be embarrassing to use the male facilities, so I use the women's conveniences, but I do feel it is not entirely correct. During the university summer holidays Rebecca and decide to get engaged. Mum is thrilled to bits and cannot stop saying how lucky she is to have around her a couple like us. I have met Rebecca's parents on a number of occasions and initially are relationship was very strained. They felt awkward accepting my appearance, but put up with me and (to them) my strange appearance. As time has gone by we have become very friendly and I now enjoy a close relationship with them, although they still think I am an oddball. When we get married we will still live with my Mother and we are arranging for an extension on the house to produce another bedroom with ensuite bathroom, with a small sitting room and kitchen for Mother to have some privacy, if she should require it. The wedding will be a small affair with just close friends of ours and held in our local church with the reception in a marquee in our garden. Rebecca stays mostly at our house now and since we became engaged, we do have sex together although we maintain separate bedrooms. Neither of us had any experience of sex and it took some time before we came to really enjoy the experience. Now it is an exciting event. So the great day arrives and on a glorious spring day we exchange vows. Rebecca wears the most beautiful cream silk lace wedding dress with matching veil and headdress. I decided that I did not want to frighten the vicar by giving him the impression he was marrying two women and so I have an elegant dark burgundy suit worn with a white shirt and striped burgundy cravat. I have matching burgundy boots with a gold buckle and only a one inch heel, and my hair is in a fairly sexless ponytail I do wear burgundy tights (pantyhose) underneath and I cannot resist painting my nails a dark burgundy shade, which did give the vicar quite a surprise when we exchanged rings The day went off well and everyone seemed to enjoy themselves. We sent our honeymoon in the South of France. Customs always amuses me as the custom officer always queries the sex declared as "Male", I smile and confirm that is indeed correct and move on, leaving a bewildered looking custom official.