years in the Army while standing on my head but two years without being able to cross dress was the greatest tribulation of my entire life. As soon as I was discharged I didn't waste any time getting back into my feminine finery. The pleasure of dressing again, for the first time, was almost worth the two years of waiting. I now set about building myself small home, where I could live alone while searching for another wife that would be willing to share my life for what it was. During the next two years I dated about sixteen to twenty different women. Some never got off the ground but when an affair started to become serious I would have a good talk with the girl to explain my transvestism. For by now I knew I couldn't marry without the girl knowing full well in advance what my life was like. Most of my dates were sympathetic with, but unwilling to share in, my life of cross dressing. I had become a successful business man with a reasonably secure future to offer the girl that might be willing to accept me for what I was.

Finally I met the woman I am married to now and she seemed to be willing to tolerate me in return for what I had to offer her. After we were married it didn't quite work out that way though. Several times we were on the point of breaking up and, except for the birth of a lovely daughter, I doubt we would still be married today. In order to maintain a home for our daughter, with both a mother and father, my wife agreed I could continue with my cross dressing as long as it didn't interfere with her. Fortunately our home is big enough, now, that I have my own dressing room. I never dress or undress in front of my wife. I never wear nighties to bed, or anything else my wife might come in contact with. I do the washing of all my own feminine garments and I continue to do as I have done most of my life. I wear lingerie, girdles and brassiers under my trousers and shirts at all times. Tucked away in the recesses of some dresser drawer I have a few pairs of men's shorts but I can't recall having worn them more than three or four times during the past fifteen years. Only on rare occasions, anymore, do I have the chance to dress completely feminine. Two or three times a year my business takes me out of town, overnight, and for this one night, in some remote motel, I can enjoy complete feminine relaxation. My wife is from another state and about three weeks out of every year she spends with her family. During this time I can dress, completely, in the privacy of my own home. Under this arrangement my wife can pretend she doesn't know what I am doing and this keeps our marriage on an even keel.

This arrangement falls far short of being the ideal life a transvestite might desire to lead, but at least I can survive. If transvestism has done nothing else for me it has created within me the ability to handle any

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