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Telling someone that you know or love about your dressing is, for many of us, a very difficult thing to do. Traumatic even, it is for some. My first time, over 30 years ago still makes me smile and, perhaps, wince a little.
I was working in a city, new position with a team and was looking for permanent accommodation. My supervisor suggested Annie (not her real name), a dark eyed brunette, and I should pool our resources and find something as we were both looking. She was a couple of years older than I (me being 20), had a car and at that time a boyfriend.
We did find something, by the sea and fully furnished. Six months went by and we gelled quite well. Her boyfriend came over occasionally and stayed but, after about 3 months they parted.
On NY eve Annie and I went to the city with some work colleagues and watched the NY (1984) come in and the harbour fireworks. Trying to get home via taxi proved difficult and we ended up going to an American teacher friends apartment nearby (I had the keys and was keeping an eye on it whilst he was back stateside visiting). Sometime during the early hours we consummated our relationship. Nothing was said. I think we were both surprised and a little confused.
Days later we had visitors that used my room and slept on a camp bed in the living room. Around 1am I heard a door open followed by soft footsteps on the carpet, felt Annie reach for my hand and myself led to her room. I stayed until dawn. Post visitors, we were to share each others beds thereafter.
One night, both of us having been out late, I awoke and slid out of bed into the darkness to go to the bathroom. As I did I felt and grabbed Annie’s pile of clothes at the end of the bed. In the bathroom I surveyed what I had – her black torsolette/corset, panties and stockings (still attached). With some difficulty I put the corset on, in reverse on the tightest eyelet before sliding it around into place. My heart was beating so loud at this point I was sure Annie would hear! I slid the stockings up my legs and, shaking, attached the four suspenders before donning the black matching panties. Turning off the light and re-entering the darkness, I returned to bed, a mixture of fear, excitement and arousal pervading.
Sliding into bed, I sensed Annie was asleep. I lay for what seemed ages, luxuriating in my new sense of feel – the silky stockings against the sheets, the tug-tug of the suspenders and the unforgiving clasp of the corset on my torso. Heaven! As I lay on my side, turned away from Annie, I heard her stir and roll over. She reached for me. As her her finger or fingers reached my waist they met with the decorative embroidery of the corset. They stopped suddenly. I think I stopped breathing.
Would she shout out? Be angry? Had I screwed up and misjudged things beyond comprehension? I was terrified and deeply regretting my actions.
After a pause, her fingers moved. Gently along the embroidery, down to the bottom edge, then onto one of the rear suspenders, following that until the panty line, leapfrogging the panty until the suspender resumed and met with the stocking top.
Another pause. Annie slid towards me, reached over me and confirmed my state of arousal. With not a word spoken, she then took command, straddled me and made passionate, almost desperate love.
After that, things moved quickly. Within a few weeks I had been dressed in virtually item Annie possessed. I was like her new toy. But more than that, she loved me in the most unqualified way.
But, getting back to the point of the story, that is how I first told someone. Actually, I didn’t. I showed her, didn’t I? And, on that occasion, it worked.
Hi Kara. I caught up with her in a different city some 20 or more years later, by which we each had our own families and kids. I asked her about the whole CD thing. She replied “its just you”. And you know what? She still loves me!
Hi Jane. I really enjoyed your story!! Are you a writer? Z
A wannabe writer! Very much an amateur.
Great story, sexy and loved it. Would love to have some sort of encounter that way, that I’m found and not hated.
I know what you mean. I have relived this experience for over 30 years in my mind. There are so many variables involved in circumstance, personalities and mood. This was the one moment in my life where things were aligned. Women are very empathetic creatures compared to men, but that does not always mean they will accommodate one’s predilection completely. This one did and I am grateful for having even that one experience in my back pocket, to know what joy and exhilaration unequivocal acceptance can bring.
that would be the hardest thing to tell some one that i am a x dresser. i would love to tell my niece that for 1 year for Halloween i asked her if she would dress me up as a female and do my make up. she gladly said yes it would be fun. i went over to her place and got all dressed up from head to toe she came in and did my make up set my wig and put on perfume on me and i was set. she was really into it for she loved dressing me up. but i wonder if she knows i am a x dresser. i would love to tell her 1 day but not sure how too. she might have a idea that i am. even if she knew she never said nothing to me about it. i would love to tell her for she is the type of girl that is out going person. she makes her own dresses. maybe if i told her and she was good with it she would make me dresses, and any time i want to come over and have her do my make up or teach me how she would. but for know i will wait for the right moment to talk to her, some how bring up a subject about x dressers and then tell her that i like to dress up. we will only see when that time comes.
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