First time

I was the only boy in my family. Tall, slender, and somewhat effeminate. Many said I looked like my mother, who I adored. As a youngster, I longed to dress like my sisters, who wore such pretty things. One day, when I was alone, I snuck into my sister's room and admired all of her pretty things. On impulse, I scooped up several pairs of panties and a pretty pink bra and tried them on. I was in heaven. I went to the mirror and saw a pretty girl looking back at me. I realized that my legs bore boy hair that detracted from my looks. I immediately drew a bath and, after soaking for a while,shaved my legs and the few hairs on my chest. I have been clean and pretty ever since.

My secret dressing continued through college, where I was fortunate enough to have an apartment by myself. Whenever I had some extra money I would buy my own pretty things. I was developing quite a wardrobe. I also began hormone therapy and was developing cute little B cup breasts. I secretly dressed in private, but became more adventuresome, with the occasional nighttime stroll. I would carefully put on my makeup, fluff my longish sandy blonde hair, and slip out of the apartment for a walk.

One night, while taking one of my daring walks, I decided to go into a neighborhood bar to test my ability to pass as a young lady. I was wearing a pink bra and matching thong, thin white tank top, and a short jean skirt. Knee high white sox and cute shoes complimented the cute coed look. I sat at a table in a darker part of the room and ordered a rum and diet. I watched, nervously, as couples laughed and danced on the small dance floor. I was nursing my drink when this good looking older gentleman approached and asked if he could join me.

He was well dressed, wearing a sport coat and grey slacks. I guess he was around 35 or so. I was stunned, as I was not prepared to interact as a young lady. Nervously, I accepted and he ordered drinks. It turned out that he was visiting my city and would be in town for several days. As I became more comfortable (and perhaps due to the rum) I began to giggle and enjoy his company. We hit it off! Then, the moment of truth...he asked me to dance. What could I do? I accepted, and held his hand as he took me to the dance floor. He led, and stared into my baby blue eyes. He thun pulled me closer, and I could