RANSVESTIA

that drink was part of eating, hence they had a wholesome attitude to it and never abused what was to others a privilege.)

"I like your suit,” said Gillian, “but I think you looked better in that dress you had on." Her eyes twinkled and she smiled. “Hey, tell you what!" she exclaimed, glancing over at Claire and then back to me, swinging her legs from under her with a swirl of skirts that gave me a momentary glimpse of snow-white mysteries between and about her thighs. "Take that old suit off and try one of my things on. Come on, be a sport!"

With that she jumped over to me, caught my hands and pulled me to my feet. I was only a little taller than she. She bounded away up the stairs, Claire and I following more sedately. Gillian's bedroom was cool blue and white and very large and, to my boyish surprise, very tidy. I thought all girls were naturally untidy. Gillian already had her capacious clothes closet open; excitedly she pawed through the dresses. Claire moved over to help her. They hauled out one dress after another, finally narrowing their search down to two. Claire turned and told me to take the suit off. Doffing the jacket, I undid the buttons of the blouse, dropped it on the bed, and then fumbled nervously with the waist fastening of the skirt and the hooks and eyes at the side opening. The skirt slid to my feet of its own weight. I stepped out of it, standing somewhat tremulously in my blue slip and black suede shoes behind the girls.

They finally decided on a sleeveless cocktail dress in heavy black crepe, with a jewel neckline and a wide, stretch gold-embroidered belt. The skirt was full with gathers at the waist. As they turned to me with it Gillian paused for just a moment to take in my young figure in woman's underwear, then she smiled gaily and whistled appreciatively, moving closer to hold the dress up against me. "Let's try it!" she murmured, her busy fingers softly bunching the skirt up before holding it over my head. "Put your hands through." The dress settled in a cloud over my head and shoulders then, with the aid of deft feminine hands, slid and flounced down over my bust, hips and legs. "There," murmured Gillian abstract- edly, now fastening the hooks and eyes from the waistline at the back up to the neck. Claire reached round me as if to embrace me, quickly mov- ing away with the belt in her hands to fasten the buckle in front. She pulled the material down under the belt, accentuating my bosom, and fluffed out the gathers below the belt. I was so excited by everything I was relieved the dress was not close-fitting like the skirt I had just taken off. The dress had a gentle scent to it; I was part of Gillian for a

moment.