This is my question and I don’t really have any advice. I can write a lengthy article about my history, but my history is now starting over.
It started over when my dear sweet wife of forty-two years died last summer. I never “officially” had a sit down discussion with my wife of my life long obsession with wearing women’s nylon stockings and garter belts. It came out rather early in our courting days. I actually did ask her if I could have a pair of her panties that were worn out and at the same time a pair of her pantyhose that had damage to them. I didn’t exactly tell her why I wanted them, but she was kind enough to let me have them without much discussion.
She knew that I loved her deeply and she was willing to do a really nice favor to her boyfriend and future fiancee. Time went along and we made love many times and explored each others feelings, ambitions, and dreams of things to come. We courted for two years and then we got married.
My love realized that I had a pretty strong “fetish” but did not interrogate me about my private habits, but my private habits did find their way out into our marriage. My sweet understanding wife once caught me in a awkward moment of dressing for work. I accidentally dropped my male trousers while in our walk-in closet and she saw me in my garter belt and stockings.
She expressed concern for me, but not judgment for what I was wearing. She was instead expressing anxiety about the risk I was taking of being discovered at work. I quickly changed out, but only that time. I would go back to my regular routine, and she reluctantly accepted that I had a limited female wardrobe of nylons and garter belts.
My beloved wife wanted so much to please me that she bought stockings and garter belts for herself. She did this because she wanted to please me and she knew making love with both of us dressed would be a crowning joy for me. I always shed my “lady things” soon after our intimacy, before we went to sleep. That was our pattern, until she became so ill that our love making came to an end.
We still kissed and hugged, up until the end of her life. Now I am trying to piece together my everyday life as a retired guy who still wants to dress up and has no one left in the world to share with. What do I do now, dear sweet readers? When, and if, I come up with answers, I will share my thoughts with you. I hope this article provokes an opportunity for thought and examination for all of us.
What do you do when you lose that one person who understood and accepted you for who you are?
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