Okay, the end is really bad. I don't like the way that I was always exposed to women's clothes. The middle should have been different. It should be virtually impossible to graduate to underwear. So it should be like this, after I experiment with bathing suits:
Everyone tells me that I'm out of control. But I didn't care. I kept doing it happily. I couldn't resist. I didn't care that I was effeminating. I graduated very quickly to underwear. They had to count all my experimentations, and bump me up. I was always the best and most enthusiastic of the group. I went so far as to shave my body. I even took female hormones to outdo my colleagues. I had decided to become a girl. There was no stopping me.
That's still kind of empty. I love that sorority house story where that guy is exposed for the first time to women's clothes, and is asked to join the sorority voluntarily. They even try to talk him out of it. But he insists. He wants to be a girl. He wants to maintain that pleasure of wearing women's underwear at all times. He willingly takes the hormone pills. That really turns me on: there's nothing left for him, just women's underwear, and growing tits. Becoming a girl, with no strings attached.
I'm just babbling again. I better quit. Tomorrow could be a very big day. When I buy my bikini.
Secretly living in my wife's closet: the musings of a closet transvestite. Adult content.
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