leg trouble and thus never climbed stairs except in cases of the direst emergency. As a result, the morn- ing hour which Robin and I shared was in complete privacy. The third item in the chain was that the bathroom on this floor was next to Robin's room, and thus across the hall from mine. It soon became habit that her trips for the morning wash-up were detoured via my room. This gave me unlimited opportunities to examine (and admire) her feminine contours--mostly with envy. However, she shortly became aware that I seemed just as interested in what she wore as I was in what she didn't wear--and thus were sown the seeds of that hardy vine we call transvestism.
One morning she popped in wearing pale blue rayon pajamas (nylon hadn't been heard of then) and I almost flipped. They were lace trimmed, with loads of ruff- les, and were silky and slippery and lovely. I carress- ed them like I would a kitten. I think Robin was dis- appointed that I didn't concentrate on the upper front portion; but I'm afraid my interests at that moment would have been envy of her attributes rather than sen- suality. I suppose if I was a mystic and thus aware of the future, I might have then had some revelation of what was to come. Perhaps Robin was; for she went suddenly sober, gazed at me for a moemnt with an odd look, and then stepped out of the pajamas. She thrust them at me and said." Here. You try them on." I look- ed down at myself--I was fully dressed--and asked how. "Like this!" she snapped, yanked open my belt, and started working at buttons. Feeling slightly foolish and embarrassed, I did however assist her in stripping me; until we stood face to face for an eternal moment, unaware of our nakedness. Again she held out the blue pajamas, and silently I accepted them, awkwardly struggled into them. I smoothed them out-- far more than was really necessary, I'm afraid and looked up at Robin. I felt silly, and thrilled, and exhilarated, and many more feelings I couldn't possibly remember nor express if I could. I wanted a mirror; and somehow -- feminine intuition I suppose--Robin knew it. She took my hand and led me across the hall into her room where I found she had a beautiful full-length wall mirror. Oddly enough, it was the first time I had ever been inside her door--but by no means the last.
25.