Earliest memories
One of my earliest memories is of when, as a child how I hated to go to nursery school. Every morning I would hide from my mother and cry when she found me. Anyway, one morning I found a new hiding place at the top of the stairs. It took my mother a while to find me. While she was looking for me I remember enjoying the privacy of my own company. As an experiment I whispered out loud some pretty words to myself. "Beautiful, Lovely..."

I couldn't have been more than four years old, but I remember getting the same kind of fulfilment that I now get from being Caroline.

It wasn't until my early teens that I became sexually conscious and I can honestly say that I never really felt particularly feminine at all during my childhood. Erections started along with wet dreams. My early experiments with my sisters underwear just seemed to be a part of it all. I never thought that it was "unusual" until I started having girl friends at fourteen. I knew that I wasn't attracted to other boys, quite the opposite! My attraction to the opposite sex was very strong indeed. So why did I have this craving to ware their clothes?

Things started getting easier
Things started getting easier for me when I left home to go to college. It was easier because I had my own large room and I could lock the door without too many questions. I was still uncertain of what I was doing but I learned allot about myself in those two years. My fantasies become wilder but they remained just that, fantasies.

Moving back home to my parents home was horrible. All my independence and privacy was gone over night. This meant that I had to try and put a stop to my cross-dressing. Anyone that's ever tried that will know just what I mean when I say that it does not work. You can try but one way or another it creeps back to you. The strongest will in the world brakes the moment you slip your silk stocking clad feet into a pair of high heels. Why put the stockings on in the first place? Well that's a good question and one I've often asked myself whilst standing up to adjust them to my suspender belt. Once the incredible feeling of femininity flushes though your body the moment your thighs brush together, it doesn't take long to know the answer. It feels to good not to. That's the answer.

However, cross-dressing didn't stop, it just got more intense. Instead of perhaps two or three times a week for half hour intervals I would spend a whole afternoon a couple of times a month when nobody was home.

Two years latter I left home again not only to move in with the girl who would latter become my wife, but to live in another country. Although cross dressing didn't stop entirely, it did slow down a while as I had so many other things to occupy my time. Again it got a little more intense. On occasions I found myself home alone with a whole wardrobe of dresses, a purse full of make up and (perhaps the best part) a camera with a timer mechanism.

After a while I'd collected a small collection of my own clothes and make-up. It is a wonder that I never got caught out as I never really had a secure place for my things. Some how though I managed to keep my secret safe.

Thanks for reading my story. I'd love to hear yours.