It's been very quiet around here for a long time now. But, I've continued to dress up mostly in swimwear. I got into a naughty habit for a while earlier this year, which I'll describe some other time. The usual routine of indulging in some femininity while my family is out of the house continued happily, until a couple of weeks ago.
My wife found my stash.
Or rather, I had absent-mindedly left it out, in plain sight, and went to work for the day. She texted me asking what it was, and I knew I was sunk. I felt physically ill. I considered coming up with some crazy explanation, but ultimately, I knew I had to tell her the truth, as painful as that would be.
So when I came home, I sat her down, and told her that the bathing suits, lingerie, and shoes in the bag she had found are mine. And that I wear them. Because I like it.
She was horrified. She felt like I had betrayed her. It's a huge lie, that I've concealed this from her for over ten years. In fact we just came home from a 10th anniversary trip when this happened. She suddenly felt uncomfortable in my presence. She didn't trust me with our son.
We spent the next several evenings talking about my secret. I told her almost everything. She's mostly concerned that I'm gay, and I assured her that I'm not. I'm actually quite confident that I'm not, in spite of all of this. She made me throw away my stash, while still feeling bad about it. She's very conflicted about it. She wants me to stop doing it altogether. I told her I would, and I'll really try, but I also told her that it's not really possible to stop. For now, I'm more than willing to at least pause so she can process it.
After we talked, each evening, we made love. We have always been very close and intimate and in love. Except for this, we've had a very open and honest relationship. In some ways, it's brought us closer together. She feels like she needs to fuck more to break this habit from me. She doesn't understand that it just doesn't work that way. The sex has tapered off a bit the last few days, but I've been constantly horny every since she found out. I'm thinking about wearing women's clothes non-stop.
She asked me not to wear her things. I promised her I won't. I really will try not to, as much as I'd love to. It's especially hard that I don't have my own things anymore. She sort of understands that I need to do it sometimes, but she really doesn't want me to.
When I told her that my habit was to wear things while she's out of the house, at first she felt reluctant to leave me alone, for fear that I'd do it again. I'm alone now, and I'm sure it's crossed her mind. It's like a test. I want to tell her that I desperately want to order some things for myself: a swimsuit, some panties, a bra, and even some shoes. I'm taking a business trip this week anyway, and I don't know how I'll handle being alone in a hotel room with nothing feminine to wear. It would have been a perfect opportunity, but now I'd have to buy something first.
She's not at all interested in ever participating in this with me. She wants a manly man, and this utterly turns her off. I still hold out hope that she'll come around. It's too soon now, though. The alternative is that I continue to do it in secret, and she may be OK with that. She'd rather not even know.
Meanwhile, I have felt somehow more free since she found out. It's a relief that I no longer have to bear this secret anymore. I fantasize now that eventually she'll accept this, and I can openly keep some feminine things in my dresser. I'm already toying with ordering some things. But I need to be patient.
She doesn't know about this blog yet. She doesn't know the full depths of my fantasy. I did explain to her that it's all about becoming a woman. She doesn't understand it at all. But she still loves me. She says so, and her actions prove it. This does put some doubt in her mind. I'm doing what I can to convince her that I love her still, that I'm the same person she married. But from her point of view, because she never knew this side of me, and it's not something she ever wanted or expected, she feels like she didn't truly know me. So I'm not at all who she thought I was.