I've been a very slow bloomer, starting with wanting to dress up when I was 5, but only occasionally doing it to any sense of completeness (with wig, makeup and shoes). I'm married, and my wife will most definitely leave me if she catches me once more. (Is it just a matter of time?) I've enjoyed this web site, but had never worn a petticoat. The thought gripped me and wouldn't let me go. You all know how that is. I knew of a local place that sold lingerie and was sympathetic to cross-dressers. I phoned from work and asked if they sold petticoats. Yes, for $70. The next day was Saturday and as I ran errands, I stopped in. I was nervous as anything. A woman, around 38, smiled and asked if she could help me.

"I was told you sell short petticoats", I said. She took down two of them, a large and an extra large. I'm not overweight, but I guess when it comes to women's clothing, most guys are large.

"Do you know what size I'd be?", I asked. "I'm a 34 waist." 

"I'm not sure, but if you'd like, I can let you try them on."

"I'd appreciate that", I replied. I couldn't believe this was happening. This was the first time someone looked me right in the eye, knowing what I was doing, and acting perfectly accepting. It made me feel so tender toward her just for that. She was quite friendly and put me so at ease, you'd think I was used to going into stores and trying on women's clothing. I went into the dressing room and took off my pants. I pulled one of them up and looked in the mirror. The nylon poufed out wonderfully and I knew I was hooked. I could picture me wearing it under one of my wife's short dresses. Before I got too excited I changed and came out of the dressing room, handing her the one I didn't want. I paid and took it home after also buying some pantyhose, lipstick, and makeup remover. I hid the stuff before going into the house. I was taking a BIG chance.

Usually I have little freedom for this, but I had to plan. The next day I faked illness while my wife and kids went to church without me. I had 3-1/2 glorious hours to play. I figured this time I'd have to admit to my wife that this practice is just something I HAVE to do. I had visions of her accepting it somewhat, but in reality I know she won't. After they'd left I got in the shower and shaved my legs. I'd been tired of seeing my hair under pantyhose whenever I'd wear them. After making up my face with shadow, liner, and mascara, I put on my pantyhose, a bra, a camisole, and the short dress. I then brushed my hair differently and put on a hairband and a pair of dangly earrings. Last, I put on my lipstick. I took out my petticoat. It was MINE. I pulled it up and arranged the skirt of the dress over it. The fit was perfect. It felt lovely, and I felt lovely. I enjoyed the image in the full-length mirror for awhile, then took a mirror off the wall to look from different angles. I grew more excited posing in various ways. Then I got daring and walked outside to our car. I got in and drove around town, finally going back home again. On our bed I frolicked with a pillow as I watched in the big mirror at the foot of our bed. It would have been more fun with someone. I changed and hid everything.

I can't tell the end of the story because this happened just this weekend, and I'm still not ready to throw my current life away. If my wife misses the money I spent or notices my shaved legs, that could be it for me. Wish me luck.

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