Hilary
- 3 years ago
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I Am Hilary free porn video
I am Hilary
My name is Hilary. I live in England and I am now 25 years of age. My
parents had me pretty late in life and in fact both of them died just as
I was finishing at University. My Father had had a very successful career
in banking and was a very wealthy man. As I am an only child, I inherited
his not inconsiderable fortune when my Mother died shortly after him. I
am not aware of any other family relations as both my parents were, like
me, the only children of their parents. I lived in the family house for a
time, but it was far too big for me, so I eventually sold it and bought a
flat in London. I worked very successfully in IT for a large company
after graduating from university and started my own business some two
years ago. This has been an immediate success and I am able to work
mostly from home where I have a dedicated office where I provide bespoke
software for businesses worldwide. I have the normal number of friends
for a person with my background and wealth, but I am not really close to
anybody. I like it that way.
I really need to update my wardrobe. I like to dress well, but seem to
have been too busy of late to get out and improve my clothes. So I set
out on Saturday morning to buy some new suits, casual outfits, shirts and
shoes. By the middle of the afternoon, I seem to have been to every shop
around and bought precisely nothing. The reason being that I found all
the clothes ranges so boring, there was nothing exciting at all and a
certain sameness about everything I looked at. I was just leaving a large
departmental store after finding nothing to my liking in the menswear
department and happened to walk through the ladies wear department to get
to the exit. I noticed how much more variety of style colour and
appearance is available to women and thought how lucky they are to have
so much choice and so much more exciting styles to wear. This nagging
feeling was in my mind all the way back to my flat. I put together a
microwave meal once I got home and hardly tasted it as I thought how much
easier for girls to select their wardrobe. That night I went on line and
looked at a variety of sites showing the selection of clothes available
to women. I was stunned at the opportunities that exist to express
yourself if you are of the opposite sex to me.
When I went to bed that night, I fantasised at wearing the sort of
clothes available to women and how exciting it must be to put together a
wardrobe if you were a girl. I dreamed of presenting myself in stunning
dresses in a wide range of diaphanous materials in different colours,
fabrics, patterns, prints and shapes. These are not available to men. On
Sunday morning, I dressed in my boring clothes, ate breakfast and went to
my computer and decided to select a female outfit to try. Nothing more
than to get over this dilemma I had created. I found this gorgeous green
dress in a chiffon material, with very full skirt and contoured top with
long sleeves that were frilled at the cuff. I had no idea what size I
wound be in women's clothes, so I took a tape and measured my chest,
waist and hips and then looked up a website that converted this
information to women's sizing. It turns out I am a size 8 UK. As a man I
am very slim and about five feet ten tall. So I ordered this dress on
line as a size 8. That was it.
I busied myself during the early part of the following week with a heavy
workload from a number of my clients. I had forgotten about my weekend as
I was so involved with my work. That is until the doorbell range on
Thursday and the courier presented me with a package addressed to Ms.
Hilary Thomson. I signed and took in the package. It was not until the
evening that I found time to unpack the package - an emerald green dress
size 8. It was stunning, the texture, the shape, the colour, the way it
cascaded as I held it up. I stripped to my underwear and put on this
exquisite garment. The moment it touched my body, it sent an electric
feeling all over me. The fabric was so soft against my body, the wide
skirt caressed against my legs and I could feel the wonderful fabric down
my arms. I went to my full length mirror in my bedroom and was amazed how
sensuous I looked. I really enjoyed this view of myself. From that moment
I determined to extend this experiment in clothing which seems to remove
the frustration of boring men's clothing.
Over the next few weeks I bought on line range of size 8 clothes,
dresses, skirts, blouses in a variety of colours, patterns textures and
shapes. Each set I tried on convinced me that this is the way I wanted to
dress when I was at home. I soon added sensuous underwear, pretty frilly
panties, slips, pantyhose. High heeled shoes really improved the
presentation of my outfits. Soon I had to dress this way every weekend. I
loved the opportunity to present myself in all these varied styled,
materials, textures and shapes. I learned to add accessories like
bracelets, necklaces, rings and earrings (I got my ears pierced to get a
better selection of earrings). I now always wear dresses and skirts at
the weekend and love the look and feel of being dressed this way.
The trouble is, I now want to go further to improve my appearance. These
beautiful clothes need to be worn in a beautiful frame. So I now elected
to enhance my personal appearance. I let my hair grow. I shaved my legs,
arms, armpits - even my pubic hairs. I found sites on line giving tuition
in applying makeup. I bought a complete range of cosmetics on line
together with all the brushes and applicators needed to apply these
products. I practiced and practiced until I could achieve the most
fantastic appearance to go with the clothes I owned. I plucked my
eyebrows to achieve a beautiful shape. I worked on my nails, to achieve a
wonderful curved shape that contoured my hands to a long slim shape. I
dyed my hair blonde; I used rollers to make my hair fuller.
With all this accomplished, I cannot wait for the weekends. Every
Saturday morning, I would get up really early. Shave all my body hair,
put on a pair of very frilly panties, a pair of pantyhose, four inch
stiletto heeled shoes, a full length slip, a dress and then sit in front
of my dressing table mirror and carefully comb out my blond hair. Then
spend forever applying my makeup, basic foundation, blusher, eyebrow
pencil and then the bit I enjoy most - eye shadow, the different colours
I can use, contoured together to enhance my green eyes, followed by
mascara and eye liner. To finish I apply lipstick with a brush, usually a
bright red colour. I now take a light breakfast followed by another
indulgence. I deal with my nails, push the cuticles back, sand and shape
my nails to give a lovely curved shape about half an inch long. This is
followed by applying nail polish to match my lipstick. Probably thee
coats followed by a sealer. Once this has dried, I spend most of the day
wondering around my flat admiring myself in the large number of mirrors I
have installed in the flat.
Monday to Friday, I return to my "normal appearance". However, I realise
that my weekend activities are more and more intruding into my thoughts
and the more and more that I want them to become my everyday way of life.
My simple desire to wear more expressive clothes has now become an aching
craving to become totally and completely feminine at all times. The
craving becomes an obsession. I am determined to become the perfect
feminine species. I start the process to achieve my ambitions. Firstly, I
start a treatment of electrolysis to rid myself of my beard, hair on my
arms and legs. I use body cream to soften my skin; I continue to grow my
hair. Every weekend I continue to indulge my feminine dress up and I
practice and practice walking, talking, and gesturing in a feminine
fashion. I watch films of people like Grace Kelly so that I can achieve
feminine presentation to perfection. During the week, I love it when
friends and others tell me my gestures are effeminate.
It has taken one whole year, but now I feel I have in place everything
that I need to satisfy this desperate obsession. I am now going to take
the plunge and I am determined never to turn back.
The first thing I do is take an appointment with a hairdressing salon. I
have told the salon who I am and what I want, which they accept. The
stylist firstly adds highlights to my shoulder length hair; she then
trims my hare before giving me a perm which gives me a fullness and waves
of a totally feminine appearance ending just above my shoulders. When I
get back to my flat, I run a bath and indulge in a scented bubble bath
with aromatic herbs and oils. An hour later, I get out; pat I dry before
applying body oil from head to foot. I slip into a diaphanous pink gown
and move to my bedroom, I work on my nails achieving a beautiful shape to
my fingers and toes; I then paint them three times, with the most vivid
scarlet colour before applying a gloss sealer. I then go to bed around
midnight and dream the most satisfying dream I have ever experienced. I
wake really early on Saturday morning; I put a cap on my hair and take an
invigorating shower. I gently towel myself down and start the process I
have so longed to achieve. I put on a pair of delicate ivory coloured
panties, slowly and seductively, enjoying the feeling of the fabric
against my body. I next put on a matching suspender belt, slipping the
garters under my panties. I take a new pair of stockings from their
package and slowly roll them up my legs and attach to the suspenders, the
feeling of the fabric against my legs sends a shudder down my spine. They
are in a champagne shade with seams and a slim Cuban heel. I slip into a
pair of five inch heeled leather shoes with an ankle strap and the
minutest heel you can imagine, the colour is chestnut brown. I have
practiced so long in similar heels that I walk with ease around my
bedroom, relishing the pull of the suspenders on my stockings and feeling
the stretching of my calves from the high heels. A look in the mirror
shows the wonderful feminine shape of my legs accentuated by the seams of
my fine denier stockings. I put on my delicate pink robe and walk slowly
in my most effeminate way to the kitchen and prepare a cup of coffee. I
return to my bedroom and settle at my dressing table to do my makeup. The
palest foundation on my smooth skin is followed by a deep blusher swept
up on my cheekbones. Then black eyeliner curled out and up at the corners
is followed by four shades of eye shadow in blues and greys, carefully
graduated upwards to my eyebrows which in turn are brushed before
applying a distinctive dark shade. Finally I attach false eyelashes and
apply mascara. The result really brings out the green colour of my eyes.
Then lipstick to match my bright scarlet nails, slowly applied with a
brush carefully outlining my full lips, a dad on a tissue before applying
a gloss finish. I lick my lips loving the taste and texture of my makeup.
In front of me in the mirror is now the most feminine face I have ever
seen, it send a shudder of pleasure over my whole body. This has taken me
over a hour, but I am still not finished. I now carefully tease and brush
my hair until not one hair is out of place. I go to my wardrobe and
select the dress that blends in with everything I have done. It is pure
silk, in a delicate shade of chestnut that perfectly matches my shoes.
The fabric is feather light with a wide skirt and three-quarter length
sleeves. I carefully slip it on and manage to fasten the back zip. The
feel of the fabric and the sensation of the skirt caressing my nylon clad
legs are indescribable. I attach a gold chain belt and then put on a pair
of gold disc earrings, a gold chain necklace, a gold watch and a couple
of bangles on my wrist. Several rings in gold with diamonds complete my
jewellery. I liberally spray a light flowery perfume over myself and I
now stand and look in my full length mirror. Looking back at me is the
most sensuous, delicate, attractive, feminine person I have ever seen and
that person is me. I am weak at the knees, I have achieved more than my
wildest dreams - in front of me is feminine perfection.
After about an hour of moving around my flat loving all the sensations of
my outfit and appearance, I have calmed down enough for the next phase in
my day. I put on the delicate round hat with a veil in a shade of
champagne and pick up my champagne clutch bag as the bell rings to
announce the arrival of my taxi. I walk slowly with the most feminine
poise to the open door of the taxi, loving the click of my heels on the
pavement and relishing the breeze blowing up my stocking covered legs. I
worry slightly that the taxi driver is spending more time looking in the
mirror at me than on the road ahead. I do not help by getting out my
vanity mirror and pretending to touch up my lipstick. We arrive at the
restaurant where I have booked lunch. I walk slowly but confidently into
the restaurant, conscious that every eye has turned in my direction. The
maitre d' enjoys showing me to my table, carefully pulling out my chair
and seating me before presenting the menu and asking if I require an
aperitif, I decline with the most feminine smile that causes him
embarrassment as he blushes. Everyone in the restaurant keeps secretly
glancing in my direction and I keep their attention moving my beautifully
manicured hands, gently touching my hair or pretending to adjust my
skirt. After lunch I return to my flat and spend hours just enjoying the
sensation of my appearance. The feel of the dress against my skin, the
sensation of stockings on my legs, the smell of my perfume, the taste of
lipstick, the clink of my jewellery, the way my hair touches my neck. I
have never felt this way before and I never want it to go away. I know
that from now on this is the only I want to live.
A year has passed and I have never worn men's clothing again. I still get
the same sensations every time I dress. I have to get up at five in the
morning to achieve the look I want. I know I am the most feminine person
you could possibly envisage and I love it. I always wear dresses, I never
go out without makeup, I cannot wear flat shoes, my legs are so used to
high heels. I always wear stockings, usually with seams as they are far
more feminine than tights. But it is still not enough and I know what I
want to now achieve. An appointment with the doctor and then with a
psychiatrist results in me commencing a course of hormone treatment.
Within six months, I have started to develop breasts which I love. My
figure has slightly changed and is certainly more feminine, much to my
delight. The hormones and voice training have given me a much more sexy
voice. Another year and I am totally female having accepted the operation
to remove that thing between my legs. My beasts are size thirty six and I
usually wear a bra, but as they are so firm, I get a lot of pleasure not
wearing a bra, particularly with translucent tops. My favourite pastime
is still getting dressed and applying my makeup. The sensation of a skirt
hem caressing my legs, the pleasure of pulling on a pair of stockings,
the feel of the wind blowing up my skirt, the click of my stiletto heels
when walking, the makeup on my face, the taste of lipstick, the bounce of
my shoulder length hair, putting on silk panties, my painted nails - I
nearly have an orgasm just describing these sensations, let alone
experiencing them.
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