The next step, after thoroughly searching through their clothing, was inevitable. It was now time to start trying it on. Being a member of such a large family made it difficult to find the time to indulge in this pastime without being caught. However, we usually arrived home from school at different times, my father was a business man who had to work long hard hours and many days my mother would be down at the store helping him out, so most days I had about a half hour to myself to try on my sisters' feminine finery. Words can't describe my feelings the first time I slipped into a pair of panties. With a little ingenuity and manipulation I found there was only one part of my body the brassiere would fit so I finally decided this was where it was meant to be worn. Next followed a girdle, stockings, slip and, finally, a dress. Being a bit on the plump side (fat if you prefer) the garments weren't a bad fit at all, even though my sister was several years older than I, but, alas, she was also much taller so the dress and slip just about reached the floor. In those days I could stay dressed for only a very few minutes. I would no sooner finish dressing than I would have to undress and get back into my own clothes before my sisters and brothers arrived home from their school classes.

Mostly I dressed in my sisters' clothing. One day I would pick one sister another day another sister, and on some occasions I would mix certain items from each that I particularly liked. Then I always had to be careful to get everything back in the right place and in the same posi- tion I found it. On a few occasions I tried on my mother's clothing but she was so much larger than I that I found very little enjoyment in it. My mother always wore corsets and as I grew older I did find one of these, which must have been too small for her, and was just right for me, and I can remember cherishing this for many years. At times, today, I still wear a corset, but, although I enjoy the "tight laced" feeling I find I can't wear it for any length of time with any degree of comfort. I went along this way for quite some time. Just trying on and taking off my sister's clothing. It was a pleasant pastime, something to inject a little pleasure into an otherwise uneventful life. Never did I dream that I was setting a pattern I would be following for the rest of my natural life.

The next step was to start accumulating a wardrobe of my own. I ran- sacked the rag bag, I searched the trash cans, I purloined items stuck away in the bottoms of the bureau drawers. Items that I thought would never be missed, and apparently weren't. With three sisters and a mother there was always an abundance of items to be garnered for my own use but most were ill-fitting and in disrepair. There was a storage shed out behind the house and by prying up a loose floor board I created a hid- away for my feminine garments. As soon as school was out I would run

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