Counterpoint to the story about the woman who gradually surreptitiously transformed her husband into a woman:
Susan had no idea that I had fantasized about wearing her underwear. I was getting sick and tired of wearing her things behind her back. I had begun to lose interest in her: wearing her clothes gave me a much more powerful rush than fucking her. She's very beautiful, don't get me wrong. I just got caught up in her lingerie, and discovering an exciting new facet of myself.
The trick was to break it to her slowly. I had to try to convince her that I would make a better girlfriend than husband. I'm amazed that she stuck with me all this time. I'm amazed, too, that she fell for it. I guess we really were meant for each other. . .
It started with the shaving. I didn't want to move too fast, because I didn't want to scare her away. I knew that I had her when she suggested to me that a smooth, hairless man is sexy. I had wanted for a long time to know what it feels like to have smooth legs, and to wear stockings on them. I pretended to hesitate, but I couldn't wait to do it.
Then she pulled the old laundry trick on me to get me into her panties. Again, I had to take it slow, and pretend that I didn't want to. It's not like I hadn't worn them before. Only now I got to wear them all the time. I even bought my own eventually. I felt so free, finally cavorting in women's underwear all day, every day! Now when we fucked, I secretly pretended we were lesbians.
I began to notice a strange taste in my breakfast orange juice. She thinks I didn't know about the hormones. At first I was shocked and angry. I thought about confronting her. I thought that this was going too far already. The trouble is that the idea of slowly and biologically becoming female aroused me like nothing else. I had to make a choice: continue along this crazy transsexual route, or end it right here.
Pretty soon, I was taking sewing lessons, and doing Jazzercize. I was becoming female. I noticed my tits growing, and my nipples becoming sensitive. Susan had no idea that I was right in on her program. She caught me one day tanning myself in a bikini bottom. I gave her some cockamammy excuse that I felt more comfortable in it anyway, because of the panties. Which was true, come to think of it, but to a much greater extent than I let on. I couldn't wait to cover my budding tits with the matching bras!
Every step I took made me feel so wonderfully feminine! I was so happy to wear a frilly, lacy, silky, satiny bra to match with my panties! And Susan had no idea that I loved it so much. She hoped that I would, but I was already way ahead of her.
Pretty soon, she let me be a girl, and I've loved every minute of it since.