RANSVESTIA

Both girls seemed very pleased with the effect and had me walk back and forth and turn with a swing as their sharp and critical eyes sur- veyed me. "Look at yourself!" beamed Gillian, opening a closet door wide to reveal a full-length mirror in which I saw myself looking more feminine than I had ever looked before. The gathers and the full skirt emphasized my narrow waist and slim legs. "Are those the stockings Claire gave you?” asked Gillian. "They're fabulous. How about a pair for me, you old meany?" she said as she glanced at Claire.

Gillian dived for her jewelry case to find more suitable earrings and necklace, coming up with gold ear pendants and a gold chain necklace to match the belt. While she was rummaging Claire said quietly, “Did you put the . . . ?” For the first time I saw a hint of shyness in this won- derful girl's manner, but knowing what she had wanted to ask and re- assured by a side to her character I hadn't known about I raised my dress and slip over one leg, moving my knee over the other one, expos- ing the dark welt of my stocking top and then an inch or two of the delicate pink satin of Claire's bloomers, the material draped softly over the tunnel leg elastic beneath. I let one finger slide the material up, ex- posing the little ridges of the material encasing the elastic, then I let my skirts fall. A strange warmth suffused Claire's face, her color heightened, and she impulsively flung one arm around my waist, hugged tight and whispered, “You really are a darling boy!”

I wanted to kiss her, and she must have known it as she pulled away rapidly, just in time as Gillian bounded back with the jewelry. It cer- tainly improved my appearance. Then Claire insisted on touching up my face with quick touches of powder and lipstick before we went back downstairs for our supper snack. By now I had lost my shyness and in an excess of joy jumped from the third-last stair to the floow below somehow I kept my footing as my air-billowed skirt settled down. Gillian, following behind and not to be outdone, flung one healthy leg over the banister rail and slid down backwards the rest of the way, hair flying as she piped gaily, "Wheeeee!!"

Our snack was laid out for us, the open wine bottle standing in an ice-bucket, and the fire crackling merrily, lit by a thoughtful Mary. My skirt swayed deliciously as I walked across the room, sweeping my hands under my dress as I subsided into a deep chesterfield. Claire grabbed a sandwich in one movement that included flopping to the cushions beside me, while Gillian sprawled on the floor, heedless of a large area of lace-trimmed white slip hanging over her coltish young

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