Transvestia

The evening of the birthday party I made my grand entrance into the Club and I was certainly the Hit of the evening. The boys all clamored for a dance and I was rushed about frantically. They seemed to love to put their fingers around my tiny waist and I certainly felt that the effect was worth all the effort. It was a thrill which a girl gets only once in a great while and I just simmered with excitement. When it was over, I was just too excited to sleep and I tossed on my bed living over every single dance. The thrill of being held tightly and swung about to the delightful music with nothing more dangerous than a surreptitious kiss in a dark is indescribable and only those who have experienced it can understand.

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Well, everything comes to an end at some time. I lived as a girl, completely and genuinely, for nearly three years. Not once did I ever have any embarrassing situation. Psychologically I almost was a girl and I had to remind myself occasionally that I really wasn't. But I began to think about my future which I hoped to be something more than a department store clerk. I wanted to be a doctor. Also, I began to worry about my beard, although it was fortunately light blond and not very noticeable. But it was a worry.

So, in short, feeling that I had had my fun and it was time to move along, I gave up my happy job and moved back into the world of men. Putting on my American uniform was not only uncomfortable, was almost painful. The shoes big heavy clod- hoppers that seemed to weigh ten pounds apiece. The rough scratchy woolen cloth and khaki. The khaki trousers which imprisioned the knee too tightly. The high neck collar. The ridiculous cap. My whole body ached for the smoothness of silk and nylon, for the comfortable support of stays, for light-stepping high heels, in short for the pleasant comfort of feminine clothing. And a glance in a mirror disclosed to me a sight that certainly was not beautiful nor