Transvestia

pair of scissors and cut my hair short. It has never been long in all my life, and I am now thirty eight. When I was eight years old, I wanted to know the difference be- tween the boy next door and myself, so I paid him ten cents to take a look. I regretted spending such a huge sum of money because, after investigating what he had, I was still not convinced that I was a girl. Through my school years I was dressed in the regular tunics in the day time, but as soon as I came home, I jumped into my overalls with pleasure. My family had a large rooming house and there were always jobs to be done, a window to be replaced, a lock to be fixed, and plastering jobs. I always did these repairs on our old house and loved every minute of it.

My Father was my big love, my pal. We went fishing together hunting and camping. My Mother seemed jea- lous of our friendship and usually made things unpleasant for us around the house. But she had given birth to a girl two years younger than myself, her "real 100% girl" as she called her, so she found consolation in dressing her up as fancy as possible. My happy life continued with my Father, we were like two "regular guys" and once on a fishing trip we had a discussion about sex, and just like two pals it seemed the most natural thing in the world to go to the whore house, .. (And don't you girls dare to laugh!) It was a sad experience and you can take my word for it. Her name was Paulette, her price was three dollars, and she was beautiful to me. I put down my three dollars on her dresser with that glorious "big shot" feeling. I was thrilled by her silk slippers, fancy negligee, the brassiere, and panties seemed to be all lace and perfume, I felt overjoyed. Every nerve and muscle in my body was alive and I felt like a young pan- ther ready to attack...whom to attack? What to do? Hell I did not know. We got undressed anyway, and when I saw her naked, I was very sad, I became full of despair, full of doubts about my own nature and I experienced then a tremendous fear that I was some kind of an abnormal freak. I was not the strong panther anymore but a lost child. Her body was beautiful and yet I wanted no part of it. I had admired her clothes so much but there in bed, I just burried my hair and kept repeating "it's OK little boy I understand you".

I needed those words so badly because I certainly

62