Transvestia
The old-fashioned drawers were as unlike "long handles" as anything could possibly be imagined. They were of pure white batiste, that extremely fine and silky cotton material. They reached to just above the knee, just as bloomers should- but not below it- and were gathered and trimmed with adorable Swiss eyelet embroidery. Cunning little white or blue silk ribbons often enhanced the Swiss eyelet, with twinkling little bows at the side. If you prefer silk or nylon (not rayon) to bastiste, O.K.. But drawers should always be white, No colors!
No matter whose legs are concerned, whether mine or anyone else, they always look prettier and more se- ductive when clad in lovely milanese silk bloomers. (what an ugly term for such an exquisite "Second Skin")
The joy of being a transvestite consists of the de- lightful feel of these beautiful garments- the soft silk embracing my legs, and the cute little flared skirt swirling about my knees.
I
No, I do not wear my girl's skirts on the street. am afraid I could not "get away with it". I do the next best thing. I read in a magazine how a transvestite wore bloomers under his trousers; but for years I have been wearing bloomers under girls slacks, and with a girl's blouse. This goes him one better. I get the sat- isfaction of really wearing girl's clothes on the street and at all times. Few people, least of all men, notice that my trousers are fly-less and that my shirt buttons on the left!
In addition to the love of the clothes, there is a deep, deep desire to be a girl, and a deep, deep feel- ing that I should be a girl. I even begin my prayers to God, "Thy handmaiden prays...". I think fem- inine thoughts, can act like a woman with the greatest of ease, and use feminine expressions in preference to typically male ones. I adore girl's and women. I think I love them and revere them more than any ordi- nary man could. They are my angels, my goddesses.
Some people imagine that all transvestites are homosexuals. There could be no greater error.
Some
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