ransvestia

haired man, who was hurrying to change into his usual denim shirt and faded jeans. With his thick eyelashes, soft, powdered skin and lipstick, his naturally long hair pushed to one side, Clinton resembled a thin, not too well-endowed young girl.

David was the first to start work with the cold cream. Without makeup and still in women's underclothes, he looked very odd, but he changed quickly, slipping off the clinging hose. He felt so much better out of the tiny male bikini that Millie had given him to dis- guise his true sex to the audience. He felt somehow freer even in his tight-fitting jeans. But, beside, him, Marty Salter had just exchanged his black panties for a pair of white ones. Marty was also adjusting his bra, and in front of him were pantihose and a white slip.

"I don't know how you can do it all the time," said David Rennick carefully, eyeing Marty's shapely legs as he maneuvered the hose over his painted toenails.

"I feel at home," said Marty in the feminine voice that David was now getting used to. "I've cross-dressed ever since I can remember."

"Nadine did you a big favor!" David was sarcastic, but he could see Babe Corbin standing, still in wig and evening gown, turning this way and that, looking with pleasure at his feminine silhouette in the mirror.

Marty shrugged. "She knew about me all right," he said hesitantly, "but if you all treat me as if I was queer...

"

"You mean you're not!" David was incredulous.

There was pain in Marty's eyes. "Of course not!" he snapped in a very low voice. He fluffed out the dark wig and stared at his reflec- tion in the mirror, dressed in the white, flowered slip and dark panti- hose. "Sally and I get along great. I just have this thing about cross- dressing."

David was astonished by the revelation. He wasn't able to say much then for Nadine Boorman came in, a number of envelopes in her hand. She handed the top one to Farrell, dressed now in his dark suit, who snatched it, gave her a terrible grimace and then left hurriedly.

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