Once I'm there I peel off the false trappings of masculinity. I stand naked in front of a mirror. I wouldn't say I was fit. But I wasn't really fat ei...her. The best descriptor would be slim. I must stand there for about half an hour, depression rising. "This isn't me. It just isn't."My eyes start to mist as I take a final look at masculine me. A sheet from my bed soon obscures it. I pad into the hallway. My hand scrambles across the top of the door until my slender fingers stumble into the key. Asthe minutes went by I decided that he must be getting himself alldolled up.Finally I heard the tapping of high heels as he walked across thekitchen floor. Entering the family room, he did a pirouette in front ofme. "Do I look OK?"I stood up and hugged him tightly. "You look beautiful." I wassurprised and pleased. Not only was he wearing the nightgown but he hadput on his stockings and high heels. He was also wearing my blonde wigand had made a pretty good effort to apply makeup to his face.. More

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