before. Makeup, bra, slip, dress or skirt, etc., was all included except I still lacked wige. I would comb my hair down in front and use a scarf to cover the rest. All in all, I looked pretty good, and was having some very very thrilling moments.

Donna and I got married, but I could not bring myself to tell her about my desires to dress. We moved to another state not long after we were married, and I tried my best to block the urge to dress out of my mind. Our marriage was not like it should have been because unconsciously I wanted to dress, thereby creating a lack of interest in my wife's sexual desires. I started drinking too much, and we would argue to all hours of the night. Finally, under the influence of alcohol, I told Donna all about my life history, and to my surprise, she said it was all right for me to dress. I went to all extremes in dressing, even shaved my legs. The smooth feeling of my legs gave me happiness so deep inside that it is impossible for me to explain. Wearing those hose to work became nearly an everyday habit, and it seemed to me that Donna and I were getting along much better.

I was now thoroughly enjoying life, and my feminine wardrobe was quite complete. Well, all good things come to an end; Uncle Sam started knocking on my door. Not wanting to go to Vietnam, I joined the Army instead of being drafted. Donna promised to wait for me forever.

After completion of basic training, I ended up with a 13 month tour of duty in Korea. About seven months later, I got a Dear John, and about two months after that I got divorce papers from Donna's lawyer. Not wanting a divorce I didn't sign the papers, and after I was home again, I talked to Donna, and we decided to give it another try. This didn't work and before my leave was up, we separated.

Three months after reaching my new duty station, I received divorce papers again. I knew I wouldn't contest the divorce this time, but I used this excuse to go home again. By doing so, I could straighten out the papers myself, and more important, I wanted to dress because I had not done so in nearly 2 years. Dressing again after a long period of not doing so made me feel like I was in heaven. For ten days, I made up for two lost years.

I hated to go back to the Army, but my time seemed to pass very fast, and soon I was honorably discharged. The first couple of months out of the service I spent working in Dallas and living with my sister. Through the buying of weekly magazines like Insider, I found out for the first

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