I got home and just felt ‘The Need’… Fortunately, I have the house to myself for a few days. I’m a simple crossdresser. Not a transvestite. Not transgender. No desire to be a female. I am satisfied and comfortable in my mind and body as I am…
I choose a classic outfit of my favorite style: a green pleated kilt type skirt with yellow, dark blue and white plaid and 2 little belts on the upper left side. A thin, soft, cream off-white pearl neck classic cardigan. Navy blue stockings and black patent mid-heel Mary Janes. Underneath is a front hook and zip, open bottom all-in-one with 4 short garters. White stretch nylon briefs beneath. These all fit me well courtesy of J.C Penney and eBay.
Why? Damned if I know. When ‘The Need’ permeates your mind, you just have to. That’s all. You just have to. If you don’t satisfy it, it will simply stay there absorbing your thoughts and other higher brain functions until you do.
Do I like it? No, not really. Over the years I’ve simply learned to accept it and acceptance is critically important to dealing with it.
I do not go out in public dressed like this. I am not that brave, nor could I pull it off. More importantly, I do not feel the need to do so. This is private. This is something for me that is part of me. Again, acceptance without guilt…
Still, what would it be like to be a female and actually be able to get dressed like this in the morning and then go all day and do the things we all do every day without shame or ridicule? Grocery shopping. Filling the car with gas. Walking across the street or a parking lot. Having lunch or dinner in a restaurant. Picking up items in a store. Sitting in a doctor or dentist’s office with your legs crossed and hoping your stocking tops are well covered by the hem of the skirt. Do real females feel the way I feel when dressed like this? Peaceful. Calm. Content. A certain confidence in feeling that you look attractive and that others are noticing you. Yet in my mind, with all that noticing, comes this very subtle, yet constant sense, fear even, of vulnerability. That soft, snug sweater clinging to those all in one foundation curves. Your nylon stockings coming out from under that flippy pleated skirt and stretching down to those shiny patent Mary Janes. And stockings they are and those 4 tightly stretched garters on your front and back thighs make it impossible to forget that with every movement. As a real female, knowing you are the physically weaker gender and yet subconsciously presenting your sexuality to be seen, admired and appreciated. However, with the seeing and admiring I would imagine comes that muted, slightly uncomfortable vulnerability. An ill considered skirt choice due to a strong breezy day or a sudden gust of wind when none was expected. So much for modesty as you put on an unpreventable show. An embarrassing, if not quite humiliating situation. Harmless fun or something a bit more dark? Even more directly, an unwarranted elbow to the bosom; “Oh! I’m sorry” says the man with a knowing smirk. A body pressing in from behind much too closely, firmly and aggressively on a bus, subway or in a crowd. A bold hand on the rear or a bolder one up the skirt. Somehow as a male, I find all those things a bit frightening, invasive, yet at the same time they come with a certain sense of excitement. A cheap thrill to break the monotony of the day that the male never experiences. These are things that the male gender does not have to even consider when dressing in the morning. But the female does. She must. At least I would think so. And yet she often decides to dress this way regardless. Is she meekly, but inevitably accepting her vulnerability? Is she willing to risk her modesty for the unexpected cheap thrill? I know my wife thinks along these lines. Again, no male ever has to consider these subtle, yet significant nuances.
So is this why I feel ‘The Need”? Do I as a normal, basic male crave this vulnerability the female accepts with only partially feigned reluctance? Is there a crossed gene somewhere in my DNA that is part of my mental makeup different from that of the so called ‘normal’ male? A gentler, less domineering gene? Odd if so. I am a far better than normal athlete, my physique is masculine. I’m told I’m a good looking male. Many females have called me a 7 to a 7.5 out of 10. I can certainly live with that. I like and do ‘guy stuff’. Yet when ‘The Need’ oozes into my thoughts, for whatever reason, there is no denying it. Just as there was no denying it when I got dressed as above and suddenly started writing this.
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