In an older post called My Best Friend Found Out I recounted the story of how my crossdressing was discovered by my best friend – I know … I could’ve come up with a more original title but, hey!
Anyway, it’s been a while since I wrote about anything even remotely personal on here so it’s high time I put that right.
Cut from the previous tale to about 6 months later and I find myself at his place on a regular visit. In the interim period he had badgered me something chronic to bring some “Sarah” clothes and dress up. There was no “ulterior motive” on his part, it was purely that he was aware that I couldn’t dress freely and wanted to give me a place to do it without worrying about being caught.
So there I am. At his place. Wondering if what I was about to do was really a good idea. We’d been out earlier having a typical lad’s day out involving a spot of bowling, shooting some pool and drinking some beer, so I was fairly relaxed. In the end I decided “What the hell” and headed upstairs to begin the transformation.
I didn’t want to be too long in case I changed my mind, so I rushed the makeup (silly I know, but I wasn’t trying to be overly ‘girly’). After around 45 minutes I was making my way downstairs and was relieved to find that there wasn’t a room-full of people waiting for me!
We sat and chatted as normal, although there were a few “choice” comments – mostly about my stockings – but nothing that made me uncomfortable. He was bery complementary about the choice of clothes and the makeup job, which obviously made me feel better, especially since I knew it should have taken longer than it did.
Then the doorbell went!
I obviously had an immediate look of terror because he jumped up, explaining that he’d ordered some Chinese food while I was getting changed. I sat back down, still shaking with fear while he went to the door. There was a brief conversation – it was indeed a delivery of Chinese food, so I calmed down a bit. After a swift gulp of wine I was back to normal and the rest of the evening went without incident.
Thinking back on that night whilst I’ve been writing this has triggered a memory that I’d long since forgotten. Despite asking me if I used a girl’s name when I dressed, he never once called me by it. Instead he referred to me by my male name, which I recall felt a bit strange, but Ididn’t mention it.