Bourne Again - part 4

AKA Laura floods the Personal Cross Dressing Stories with rambling tales that you, dear ladies, have no way to verify, so must take my many words as evidence that, in certain places in the UK, life is a lot more welcoming for those of an alternative textile nature than we may previously have thought!

And what of those who want to do something a bit daring, like openly wearing a women's swimming costume on a public beach?

I complain about word usage, probably far too much - but the phrasing I just used is a perfect illustration of how choice in words puts an instant spin on things - a somewhat pervy, unclean, sexually charged spin - with no intent of said rotations.

Like the line "I put on women's clothing and hang around in bars." from "The Lumberjack Song" - hang on! That's exactly what I do do, but it's not like that... well... it is precisely that... But...

So there I am, sat on my towel, a socially polite distance from the other beach users. I am well away from the main crowds around the pier, but, as evidenced by the mint choc chip ice cream cone, near enough to the final kiosk on the promenade that my icy treat hasn't become a melted mess - certainly close enough to others to not appear to be skulking in the background, and not far enough not to be seen - just hopefully, not close enough to be seen distinctly.

Well, that ice cream was delicious, and the rolling of the surf, the warm, golden sand, and the hot sun, not to mention the bevvy of beauties (of all manner of shapes and sizes) in a wide variety of swimsuits constantly wandering around the beach prompted me to finally remove the dress.

No bother, no fuss, over the head it went, fold neatly, and slide into the backpack with my trainers and other bits and bobs.

How wonderful to be sat here, at last, in nothing but a beautiful turquoise one piece, with a high neckline, and maybe slightly higher up the legs than I am accustomed to.

Good job I shaved thoroughly. No little moustaches going on. Although, from some of the women I've seen, there are those who take bikini 'taches in their stride. Ouch!

But wow!

Obviously, I've worn a swimsuit before, although never this one, which isn't a size too small for a "better" fit - it's a totally appropriate size, and, if anything, a little spacious around the lower chest, because of the way the girls stretch out the top part.

No bother, again, plenty of women wear comfortable swimsuits, and, if it's your first time out, you should feel comfortable above everything.

See, I told you I look at and notice nearly everything - I don't just ogle the pretty girls, I admire all ladies, without prejudice and, hopefully, without staring like a creep. A few seconds to see all the things I like, and filter out the things I don't like. Life's too short for those.

I pull out the bottle of ice-cold water and take a drink.

Wow, again! Thus feels totally amazing - the material is every bit as thrilling, soft and full of little movements as I'd imagined - like wearing something alive!

But what's this?

No-one is staring at me.

People walking quite close by don't suddenly talk in hushed tones, no tutting - no indication that they'd seen anything amiss of offensive.

I put the lid back on the bottle, replace it in my bag and lie down to soak up some rays.

After a short while, I turn over, taking care not to crush the girls.

The sun really is hot - how nice it would be to paddle in the waves, just 20 yards away...

So that's exactly what I did.

The sea was warm, the breakers were a bit larger than I'm used to seeing in Bournemouth, so, proportionally, it felt like being a kid again.

The 4 year old kid who dreamed all his life of playing in the waves, jumping over them, chasing out into the water when they died back a bit, then running, laughing back to shore as a big one came in, splashing without a care - but in a girls one piece, rather than boring trunks (which I hated, because they showed off my skinny ribcage and made me feel uncomfortable and embarrassed) was finally, finally feeling what it was like - what he'd imagined for 52 years it would be like...

(Pauses for breath!)

...and it was BETTER!!!!

I don't know how long I played, but no-one moved away from me - others in the waves continued their own little games with their groups, and we were all happy people together, enjoying the wonderful natural resources.

Eventually, I felt that time was moving on - it would soon be time to bathe, do my makeup, select an outfit, and get ready to go to the show.

A quick spot of sunbathing first... and I was so relaxed, I actually fell asleep for a short while - thankfully not long enough to get burnt, but I consumed the remainder of the water, took a few timed selfies as evidence that I had finally done this amazing thing...

Actually, it's not that amazing - going to a beach to sunbathe and paddle? Thousands were doing that exact same thing!

But the context I brought turned this very ordinary experience into a realisation of a lifelong dream - a full-on adventure!

I slipped the dress back on, over my swimsuit - although wondered why, as, all along the promenade, women wandered in 3 scraps of cloth held togerher with string. Who was going to complain about a 6'4", slender man with a bit of a lockdown belly in a sensible-ish turquoise one-piece?

No frills or flowers, just turquoise, although cut somewhat high at the hip, and with some protruding flesh at the back. Nothing that could compete with the thongs that disappeared into the owner's... keep it appropriate and relevant, Laura!

Maybe next time I'll promenade in my swimsuit - but, for now, food is highest on the agenda, so I took a pit stop at a cafe near the pier, with lots of outside seating, and ordered some tea. With chips, of course.

and no-one said anything or looked at me in a funny way!!!! Everyone was polite, smiled a lot, and behaved helpfully and nicely.

Talk about uneventful...

But A-ma-zing, darlings!

It seems that these days, you really can choose how you want to look, and most people will not judge you based on that.

This may only be one experience in one town - but I have been to many places over the past few years, and each time, I watch more and more closely, while absorbing myself into the experience more deeply, and cone away with a life-enhancing mind set, based on those experiences, with an ever-growing inner strength that once I thought I would never feel, as a manic depressive.

Cross dressing really is the very best therapy.

But the best was saved for last.

Wild times lay ahead of this most tranquil and meditative morning and relaxing afternoon...