mortal fear of being "found out" when I dressed up in my mother's clothes. She died shortly after I graduated from high school, and my brother and myself were alone in the world. He joined the Service, but I was determined to get an education, so I worked at odd jobs until I could start college in the fall. I explained how lonely I had been until I finally — in desparation confessed my Transvestism to my room-mate - and how he had accepted and helped me. I told her how I had studied to become a good impersonator before my agent would even attempt to get me a job as a professional. As I brought my story up to the present, she sat quietly for a moment, then smiled as she asked, "Where do you keep your costumes, wigs and things?"

"Here," I replied, "in the spare bedroom." Which was the only fib I ever told her. That bedroom wasn't the 'spare' it was mine.

"May I see them?" she asked.

"Of course, come along."

I unlocked the door and we went in. She obviously noticed that it was decorated in a feminine style, but she didn't say anything.

Judy gasped as she saw the array of dresses and gowns as I opened the closet doors. When I opened the other closet and showed her the shelves of wigs, shoes and accessories, she squealed a little, put her hand to her mouth and collapsed on the edge of the bed.

"I simply can't believe it," she said. “Let me look at you.” She turned my face towards her. "Now I can see some differences between you and your eyebrows are thinner and neater than most men's and your hands are too well kept and manicured. When can I see you in costume?"

most men

"Do you really mean that?" I asked.

"Yes," she smiled and nodded, "I really want to."

"It's getting late and it takes me over an hour to do the job right. How about tomorrow night at the Club? As my personal guest you won't have to pay the cover charge."

"I can sleep in the morning. If it isn't too much trouble, I'd like to see you dressed up tonight. How about it?" she asked with that darned smile. The smile broke down my reservations.