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Introduction:

How a cross-dressing journey began.
Prologue: A Different Man

From a young age, I knew I was different from all the other boys. I grew up always crushing on girls, from elementary school to kindergarten. I never believed in cooties, never thought girls were gross, and always had female friends.

I was curious about girls from the beginning, which I assume now is because they're different from boys. The different clothing girls wore always interested me, and I could never understand exactly why there were unwritten rules about what boys could and couldn't wear. Girls were allowed to wear boys' clothes, but boys weren't allowed to wear girls' clothes, and it never made sense to me.

My two aunts, who were both quite attractive, were always of interest to me when they visited our home. Not because I was intent on my aunts themselves but more because of what clothing they brought with them. I used to sift through their swimsuits, bikinis, and underwear whenever they would come over, worried about getting caught because society made a boy feel guilty for being interested in girls' clothing.

It wasn't until my own sister hit puberty that I had solid access to girls' clothing. There was no way I was going to investigate my mother's clothing, as that seemed extraordinarily weird to me. My sister, however, was one of my peers, only two years younger than me, and it felt okay to be curious about what she wore.

Throughout high school, I had lingering fantasies about wearing women's clothing, especially their undergarments. It was always the bras, panties, bikinis, swimsuits, and other tight-fitting clothing that piqued my curiosity. Lingerie and stretchy fabrics were the central focus of my fascination with women's clothing, as it was primarily the stuff that a boy could never get away with wearing that got my attention.

My sexual proclivity with women's clothing began when I was a teenager. Afraid of shame and embarrassment if I took my sister's clothing or was seen purchasing such clothing from a store, I sunk to a more secretive way to obtain such things. It started with the ease of lifting items from thrift stores and escalated to shoplifting from department stores and mall clothing stores.

With the advent of online shopping, I was able to procure items for my fetish without shame by having them delivered to the house. After a few years of exclusively using online ordering to purchase women's clothing, I became willing to go to a store and purchase it myself, believing that it would simply be assumed I was buying items for a girlfriend. I discovered this line of thinking after I had actually gone to Black Friday sales to purchase clothing, including underwear for a girlfriend who lived a thousand miles away.

Being antisocial and preferring to be alone, the girlfriend thing didn't last. We lived states away, and it didn't work; plus, she didn't know my dark secret either.

After I began stealing clothing from thrift stores and department stores, I was curious about what it would feel like to wear them. It didn't take me long to start stealing clothing in sizes that would fit me. You see, I'm a big guy and clothing for women in sizes that fit me wasn't as widely available, so I had been stealing any women's clothing I found provocative. I discovered I could squeeze myself into a smaller pair of panties or stretchy shorts, but it was a very tight fit. This is when I realized I liked how the tight fabric hugged my body.

It didn't take long for my interest in women's clothing to become a sexual fetish. I would become very aroused when wearing panties, swimsuits, bikini bottoms, tight little shorts, and other 'sexy' clothing items. Skirts were added to this list when the naked feeling beneath elicited an extreme rush of sexual excitement. Anything that was traditionally seen as what only a woman would wear became an arousal point for me.

This fetishistic behavior turned into a real paraphilia. The idea of myself being a woman aroused me greatly, and every time I wore the clothing I coveted, I would imagine what it would feel like on my body if I was a woman. I had fantasies and dreams of turning into a woman, which aroused me. I would wake up and masturbate immediately after having one of these dreams. I would pretend to be a woman online, masturbating as I described what my fantasy of being a woman felt like.

I had a bad habit of stealing panties that belonged to female friends of mine when I was invited over to their houses. I never wore these articles of clothing and never used them to masturbate with, but it was something I felt I couldn't help myself from doing. I became obsessed with collecting panties, the thought of another 'new' pair arousing me. I never took my sister's panties because there wasn't enough of a risk since we lived in the same house.

I never got caught stealing women's clothing from stores or my friends. I even stole panties from my sister's friends when I went with her to her friend's houses. My obsession was with clean underwear because the thought of swiping dirty panties didn't do anything for me.

By the time I was twenty-five, I had stolen hundreds of pairs of panties from stores and from female acquaintances. I dressed up as a woman in my room, in private, more times than I could count. I wore panties under my regular clothes many, many times. I even started wearing panties as my own underwear frequently.

While I had never been caught stealing, I had been caught wearing women's clothing on multiple occasions. My aunt caught me a few times, and my sister caught me more times than I'd like to admit.

My aunt caught me one summer night when I stayed up late. I was feeling extra daring and had gotten ahold of an actual cheerleader skirt. I had decided to wear it around the house after everyone went to bed, wearing nothing underneath. It was a little on the small side for someone like me, so the feeling of being exposed while actually wearing something turned me on. I was in the living room watching television when she came down the stairs unexpectedly. I was in the middle of jacking off and had to scramble to cover myself up. There was nothing to cover myself with, so I pulled my shirt down as far as possible, hoping she didn't see my cheerleader skirt. Nothing was ever said about the incident, and I never knew whether she saw anything or not.

I had made a habit out of wandering around the house in women's clothing at night after everyone had gone to bed. While I knew this was risky behavior, especially considering I had a sister who could also be roaming about at all hours of the night, the temptation was too thrilling.

My sister caught me several times doing this. No words were ever exchanged, and I ran up into my room and hid as soon as she saw me every time. She had seen me wearing a one-piece swimsuit, a skin-tight dress, and an ensemble that included a corset, panties, and stockings. The thrill of my sister catching me set me on fire, and I furiously masturbated in my room after each incident with her.

It is incredibly difficult to figure out my psychology on this matter because I have no desire to become a woman through surgery, and I don't engage in transvestitism. The furthest I go with it is cross-dressing, and it is very much a sexual arousal thing with me. The thought, the idea of being a real woman, is what turns me on so significantly. Still, in my fantasy, I would either wake up one morning having magically transformed into a woman, or I was somehow able to exchange bodies with a woman of my choice for a day or so.

I am a straight male, and I am solely attracted to women. I fantasize about being a lesbian all the time, so the general theory of someone with Autogynephilia feeling trapped in the wrong body has never fit with me.

Another factor that I feel may play into my desire to be a woman is that I grew up in a household full of female family members, along with the fact that I have several physical features that are more feminine than masculine. I have plump, girly lips, a sturdy lower body, and extremely sensitive nipples. I've been told I have an ass like a woman, and even though I'm a bigger guy, my shape is closer to a woman than a man.

I'm nearly six feet tall and weigh considerably over two hundred pounds. I was an athlete in high school and had a solid build. I've never been considered slim or even average. I've always been a bigger guy, and I've wondered if that has played a part in my different interests.

Unfortunately, I could never cross-dress in public because I certainly didn't have the face of a woman, and no amount of makeup could solve that problem. I have a squared jaw and a clearly masculine facial structure, my lips being the only feminine thing on my face.
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