• Age : Thirty-something (Well 35 if the truth was told)
• Height : 5' 10" (What ever that is in cms)
• Weight : 12st 4onz (If I breath-in on the scales)
• Married for 12 years.
• Live in the South West of England.

So one Saturday morning our friends set off and we temporarily moved into their house, next to the shop. My mother served in the shop all day, father dealt wit the papers in the morning before going off to work at about 7 O'clock. So I was left on my own for fairly large chunks of the day. Initially it was fun, with many new places to explore. However, as the novelty wore off I tended to find myself watching more and more TV and generally kicking my heels around the house. As our friend's children were all girls, their toys, books and records were of limited interest.

As the holidays dragged on I became more and more bored, until one afternoon I found myself in the bathroom. It was not a particularly large bathroom, just big enough to contain a bath, wash hand basin, toilet and "Alibaba" type laundry basket. As I reached over to get some toilet tissues I must have knocked over the laundry basket, spilling unwashed clothes all over the floor. Cursing I finished on the toilet, washed my hands and then started to clear up the mess.

I righted the basket, spilling more clothes as it came up and bent down to collect those clothes that now lay scattered across the floor. There on the floor, amongst the towels and socks lay a pair of girls navy school knickers. I picked them up, but instead of popping them back into the basket I just held them. A thought went trough my mind - no one else was in this part of the house at his time, the bath room door was locked and nobody would ever know if I just slipped them on. Before I had even thought about what I was doing, my own pants and trousers were in a pile on the floor. My mouth was dry and I could feel my heart beating fifty to the dozen as I pulled these girly knicks up my legs. It felt good, as I stood there admiring myself in long bathroom mirror and the appearance of a bulge in my knicks showed that these panties were effecting me in other ways as well. I rummaged around in the spilled clothes, looking for anything else that I could try on - but all I could find were towels and socks, however, poking around in the actual basket I found a pair of tights and a little bra. Within no time I was "fully" dressed in bra, panties and tights - using some of the discarded socks to fill out the cups of the bra to add a certain shape. That was the first time I had felt the effect of cool air on stocking clad legs. I just stood there waving my legs around, admiring the crisp lines of my new legs and drinking in the sensation of cool air blowing across nylon-covered legs.

For example, I can still remember the first time I slipped into a pair of borrowed navy blue knickers. To this day I don't know why I did it, but the act of simply slipping on a "navy knicks" seemed to open the door into the adventure of Cross-dressing. Before long I had moved on to bra's, stockings and suspender belts with out even a second thought.

The next stage, the next barrier to be breached, involved make-up. I remember the first time I "puckered up" and applied a liberal coating of bright red lipstick. As with the panties, once I had crossed the make-up barrier with a little bit of lippy it was not long before I was fully into eye shadow, mascara and blusher.

Moving beyond the panties and make-up took a little while, I guess it was a matter of opportunity and cash. By this time I was already buying the odd specialist adult magazine, such as "Sadie Sterns monthly", for the odd enforced feminism story. One day I noticed an advert for "Transformation", noticed there was an outlet in London and finally plucked up courage to pay them a visit. I must have walked past the shop 4 or 5 times before finally deciding to dive in. Once behind the closed doors I felt a little more comfortable - I browsed, drank coffee and left with a catalogue and a couple of magazines. By all accounts not a major achievement, but a small step and an important barrier crossed. Later I returned, on numerous occasions to various outlets, and ended up with some wicked high-heeled shoes, wigs and breast forms.

So I was now at the stage where I could dress like a boudoir pussy, with suspenders and high heels, but would die of cold (and embarrassment) if I ventured out.

I needed a dress and a more sensible pair of shoes. The final shopping test (and one more barrier), into the high street. I reasoned the only way around this was to simply brazen it out. So cheque book in hand, I simply strolled into Marks & Spencers, and bought a couple of dresses. Surprise, surprise the assistant did not even bat an eyelid. Buoyed up by this success I went straight into Saxone Shoes (they have a Womens outsized department), asked for a pair of size 10's in a reasonable high-heeled pump and as in M & S, they simply took my money - no comment, no third degree. I think the lesson (or moral) is, as Luke Skywalker discovers in one of the Star Wars films, the monsters we fight are created from within.

It was at this stage that I discovered the world of on-line Crossdressing. In signing up to CompuServe and exploring its protected discussion forums I came across the Adult Support Group and in particular the CiS CD/TV community. For the first time I was able to talk openly with other TV's. The boost in confidence this gave me, both in terms of my TV feelings and in my day to day life was amazing. As time went on I extended my initial "Forum" based contacts into regular email links and very quickly established a small group of e-contacts with which I tried to maintain regular contact. Unfortunately, over a period of time most of these links faded, through mutual neglect. My experience to date suggest that this is simply par for the course, what I can say is that it was fun whilst it lasted. Just as important and it helped me breach another barrier. For the first time, through the faceless media of the internet, I was able to present me, as a guy who enjoyed being a girl, to another person.

Where to next, well the inevitable happened, one of my e-mail contacts lead to a meeting (although it took almost a year to happen). A small hotel room in the back of beyond and a bottle of wine. We did not go all the way but that did not seem important. What was great was the chance to get dressed together, to share a drink with another person whilst in bra, panties and heels and to chat about TV things. Another barrier - another breach.

Finally (at least to date) I discovered the Philbeach Hotel. A place to dress and then roam the hotel as though nothing mattered. OK so it is not actually out in public, still being within the protective confines of the hotel, but the first time I ventured into the hotel bar, sat down and ordered a drink was a great feeling. Finding Anne and Diane at the Philbeach was an added bonus. They certainly made my stay something special and an experience I will never forget. I never really got to say thank you, but hopefully if either of them ever get to read this they will understand just how indebted I am. Again another barrier breached.