Thanks for the Memories
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Fifties Memories free porn video
FIFTIES MEMORIES
BY
JANICE
I am a seventy five year old man with no close living relatives but for
a sister about a year older than me, I was packing to move to a
retirement community, hopefully the last move I would ever make. I came
across a dusty manila envelope that, for the life of me I could not
remember seeing in years, more likely decades. Well, instead of
pondering what it held, I did the intelligent thing; I opened it up and
poured out the contents which happened to be several Polaroid
photographs of four people in several combinations, two young teen age
girls and two marines, there were also a few strips of photos like you
get in one of those photo booths so popular back in the fifties, the
pictures were the same two girls and guys.
It took me several minutes to figure out who was who, a quick look at
the dates confirmed it, the two teen age girls were my sister Shelly,
seventeen at the time, and me, fifteen, we were both wearing Poodle
skirts that were so popular at the time, and the two Marines were some
guys we were writing to at the time. I guess this requires some
explanation and as soon as I get it all sorted out in my head I will
explain, give me a few minutes, OK?
Ok, I am back now so I guess you need to know how a seventy five year
old man used to be a fifteen year old girl.
Before I start I have to remind you that these events took place in
nineteen fifty seven, according to the dates on back of the photos; this
is two thousand and fourteen, a difference of fifty seven years, so the
memories might have a few flaws, ok?
The first picture showed my sister shelly and I sitting on the floor
with our poodle skirts spread out around us. My skirt was red and
Shelly's was blue, we were both wearing black, actually Navy Blue, if
memory serves me correctly, polo shirts but don't count on that. We had
black crinolines under our skirts, which was the style back then. Panty
hose had not yet been developed so we had on stockings, which were
called hose, ankle sox and saddle shoes. What ever happened to those
Poodle skirts?
I am digressing here, this does not explain what I was doing wearing
Shelly's clothes.
The fifties were a great time in this country, people had consideration
and respect for each other and our great Country, and we had just about
gotten out of one war, Korea and were starting to butt into another one,
Viet Nam. There were service men attached to bases all over the world.
Hang on, I'm getting to the point, just let me do it my way.
Some of the high school kids wrote to organizations that distributed
gifts and letters to Service men who were away and had no one to write
to them. Sometimes the service men would write back, and sometimes
friendships developed. Shelly and I both wrote and somehow both our
letters got to two marines in the same barracks in the same unit. They
answered back but somehow my name got misread and my letter came back to
Mary Rogers, not Marty Rogers.
He said a few things in his letter that might have been embarrassing had
he wrote them to a guy. My sister said rather than embarrass him maybe I
should continue writing as if I were a girl, she would help with the
correct phraseology and he was a half a world away, what were the
chances of him finding out any different. (Do you see where this is
leading?)
Well, it seems that these guys wanted pictures of us, shelly and "Mary".
Shelly proposed that one day she dress me up in one of her Poodle Skirt
outfits, take a few polaroid's and send them to the guys, Steve, my guy,
and Bill, Shelly's guy. After a long debate she convinced me to do it,
we took a whole roll of Polaroid's that day with the help of our mother
and sent the best to "our guys".
We continued writing for several months until the shit hit the fan. They
were being transferred and would be passing through our town with a
stopover of about a half hour and asked, no, begged, us to meet them at
the bus stop between busses. Oh boy, what to do.
Shelly came up with the stupidest idea I ever heard of, she said she
could dress me up as a girl again and I could go to the station as Mary,
see, I told you it was stupid. I, on the other hand, had a brilliant
idea, I wouldn't go, and it was as simple as that; Mary could be sick.
Mother walked into the living room where we were discussing this. She
knew about me writing to Steve all these months and pretending to be
Mary. She, mom is the one who took some of the pictures of us to send to
our Pen Pals. She, mom, said that first, I started the ball rolling by
pretending I was someone I was not so I was responsible for any
consequences. Then she put a guilt trip on me, she told me that I had
been leading this guy on; he was looking forward to seeing his girl pen
pal and now he was going to be disappointed, suppose he is being
transferred to go overseas and get his head blown off, how would I feel
then?
She was right, how would I feel, but getting dressed as a girl...and going
outside, to a big public bus terminal and meeting a guy is not something
one does on the spur of the moment, I gave it a lot of thought and with
a lot of cajoling from shelly and mom, decided to give it a stab. (I
remembered how nice it felt wearing that Poodle skirt when mom took the
pictures and did, secretly, want to wear it again...but to go out and meet
people...that are a whole other thing).
With dad away in the service and mom and Shelly pushing me, I felt I had
no choice, I agreed to do this stupid thing, and I would go with shelly
to meet "our guys."
So here we are in my sisters room getting ready to go meet our guys, (I
hate it when she says that). Being reluctant to do this, I was no help
picking out what to wear. We finally agreed on what I was to wear, and
to tell the truth, I liked it. Naturally I needed undergarments such as
panties and a padded and filled bra, and pantyhose no wait, this was
before pantyhose so I must have worn stockings with a garter belt.
The dress was mostly white with green trim. It had spaghetti straps and
a square low neckline which had green flowers on the bodice and a wide,
wide green belt. The skirt came to my knees.
Make-up wasn't much, just some lipstick and eye shadow, remember, I was
only fifteen.
I was not really worried about Steve doing anything to me, like kissing
me, as a matter of fact, in those days a good girl wouldn't even let her
boyfriend kiss her on her first date, at least that is what they said.
Shelly wore a poodle skirt with a short sleeved white shirt. She wore a
denim jacket over her dress and I wore a school jacket a size or two on
the large size, like a lot of the girls wore.
After delaying as much as possible, I found myself at the bus station
holding Shelly's hand.
The bus was announced arriving. We did have pictures of our guys and I
imagine they had the pictures we sent them of us.
Steve and Bill walked right up to us and hugged us warmly. They stepped
back a step to get a good look at us and I think they liked what they
saw; I was too nervous to know if my guy was even as good looking as his
picture. After introductions, we went to a restaurant in the depot for
something to drink.
The bus was delayed, giving us another half hour so we walked around the
depot just looking around, this is where the strip of pictures came in.
there was a photo booth there which we used to take several pictures?
the guys took some with them and shelly and I took some.
The bus finally left, shelly and I waited for it to pull all the way
out, we blew kisses to each other and that is as far as any kissing went
that day.
I couldn't get home and out of that dress any too soon and, I would like
to say that that was the last time I ever wore a dress but I found
another picture in the envelope that changed that, oh by the way, we
never did see Steve and Bill again but we did keep writing for about six
more months.
There was another picture that I had no remembrance of but I should
have. There were three girls grouped together and I was one of them, the
one in the middle. The picture was from above the waist and seemed that
all the girls were wearing what looked like party dresses. Now you might
think that the one who I thought was me was really my sister, but she
was there too, right next to me. I could see the picture was cropped and
some of it was missing. I e mailed her and asked if she knew anything
about it. She had the original and sent it by e mail and the original
left me with even more questions...
It showed the picture of the three of us, full length, all in party
dress from the same era.
In the background was tables with what looked like cake and party
favors. The wall behind the table was decorated with streamers and a
banner saying, in big bold letters..."Happy sweet sixteenth birthday
Marty.
They, we, looked like we were having a good time for my birthday, wish I
could remember it.
Then I remembered, it was indeed my sixteenth birthday party and it was
indeed me in the dress.
But first, a bit of information. At the time I truly thought that that
was the end of my cross dressing but I was wrong. For the next six
months I never even thought of wearing my sister's clothes, well, I
thought of it but never went through with it. I admired the things she
wore and did think how I would look it.
I kept a lot of memories from the picture taking session and the meeting
at the bus station. I remembered how the skirt felt rubbing against my
legs when I sat and moved, sitting was nice with all the material
sitting on my lap. It took a few tries at sitting to get it right,
usually when I sat, but not with all that material surrounding my legs,
I had to pull all the material to the side or in front of me, sit, or
rather back into the chair and then either spread the skirt over the
arms of the chair or scrunch it up on my lap. Walking was different in
that I could feel the crinolines rubbing against my legs with every
step, when you wore a poodle skirt or something with a crinoline under
it you walked a bit different, at least I did because of the feeling of
crinoline on my legs; another thing, when wearing one, you did not turn,
you spun, that made the skirt out so it swayed. I think that was one of
the main things about them, in my humble opinion.
I did sneak another outfit but just for a few minutes, a pencil skirt.
They were also popular at that time but not like the poodle skirts. They
were thin and tight, especially at the waist and hip but did not flow
out like the poodle ones.
My sister had one and looked great in it. Just for a joke one day when
no one was home I gave it a try. I just put on the skirt without any
padding to give me hips but I did put on a bra with the cups filled with
oranges. The skirt was below my knees; it was some kind of blue and had
a zipper in back. Shell wore a white velour turtleneck with long sleeves
and a short sleeved jacket, she called it a shrug, with it, and so I did
too.
It did feel good but nowhere as nice as the poodle skirts, a whole
different feeling. For one, it was tight and restricted movement and I
could not take my usual stride because the skirt was not wide enough to
allow that.
Ok, now let us get back the other picture I was talking about.
It was about six months later; I had a girlfriend, Ashley. Shelly and
Ashley got along like sisters and as you might know, sisters tell each
other secrets.
One day Shelly was looking through our old photo album, the one with the
pictures of us that we took for Mike and Steve. Ashley walked in the
hose as if she owned it, as she had been doing since we started going
together and saw the album sitting on the coffee table, being a girl and
nosy, she picked it up and started looking through it.
Shelly saw her looking at the pictures and (According to Shelly) thought
she should explain about the photos. Shelly and I both think that had
she not said anything Ashley would not have noticed anything. Well,
there was no big thing about it; Ashley just said that I looked good and
did talk about it a little then it was never mentioned again.
My birthday was coming up and I knew Ashley and Shelly were planning
something, because they seemed suspicious about something.
I could only assume they were planning a surprise party for my birthday;
but, my birthday came and went and all I had was a regular party.
A few days later the three of them got me in the living room and talked
to me about something, something that was weird but sounded like it
would be fun. They must have been planning this for a while because they
had all the answers.
Since Ashley found out about the two times I dressed as a girl she
wanted to see me in drag.
What they planned was to have a sweet sixteen party for me, now a guy
has a sixteenth party, sweet sixteen parties are for girls and that is
where the secret was.
They wanted to get me dressed in a party dress and the four of us have a
party in our finished basement with JUST the three of us. This was so
unusual and out of left field that I agreed. Ashley's mother owned and
operated a dress shop that specialized in the fancier dresses, flower
girl, brides maids, cocktail dresses, you know, stuff like that and she
could, and did, get dresses for the four of us. I think they were all
brides maid's dresses, I never, even to this day knew the difference
between a gown and a dress, is there a difference?
Ashley got some dresses from her mother's place and the three of us, mom
was away on business so she could not attend, but we took a lot of
pictures. There was the usual foundation and padding but my gown was
just a smidgeon tight so instead of risking a rip they put me in a
corset, for the first time in my life, it was a bit uncomfortable at
first but it did do the job, and was soon comfortable.
My gown, the hell with the others, was, as mentioned, white, full length
with spaghetti straps and a square neck; it came with a matching wrap,
which I wore over one shoulder and off the other, hanging my other arm
at the elbow. We all wore high heels.
The party was loads of fun, with lots to eat; Ashley I and danced a few,
as did shelly and I.
The party was over, we cleaned up and that was about it for any cross
dressing on my part, buy not forever. Eventually we got older, shelly
got married and later in private, I got to wear her wedding gown, and my
mother's mother of the bride gown.
Ashley and I got married and again, in private, I wore her wedding gown
and the matron of honor's gown. Ashley and I stayed married until she
passed on a few months ago, that is the reason I was packing my things
in preparation to go to an assisted living home.
I hope you enjoyed my remembrances.
Charlize
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