FIRST ENCOUNTERS

GRABBING THE RING!


HOW JAMIE GRABBED THE RING AND RAN! SUCH MEMORIES!


In the 1950,'s when I was 12 years old, I grew up in a family of all women, so it wasn't unusual to wander by an open bedroom door and catch one of them dressing up for a date. I always admired the clothes girls and women got to wear. Such a variety of pretty things, from delicate undergarments to soft, sensuous outerwear. For a guy it was pull on a pair of Jockey shorts and a pair of pants or jeans, top it off with a white shirt and bowtie and you were dressed. A young girl dressing up took much more time, as though it was a ritual that every layer of her attire be perfectly applied. I actually think they enjoy the stages of half nudity while at the same time watching themselves in the mirror become fully dressed.

The feel and texture of a female's material that they wore also fascinated me, such soft and gentle fabrics. Girls clothes were very pretty to look at and fun to touch, with the feel of silky elegance caressing various parts of the body. Occasionally when everyone was out of the house on a Saturday night date, I would be left home alone for a few precious hours to investigate the sensuous feel and smell of female clothing for my self.

My first experiment was the look and feel of hosiery. First I shaved off the tiny hairs that cropped up on my legs, including the fine peach fuzz at grew on my derriere. The feel of my new skin was very pleasant. One at a time I carefully rolled up the Nylon stocking in my hands as I had watched my sister do many times. Gingerly I placed the stocking over the tip of my pointed toes and slowly wiggled the garment up the length of my newly silkened leg, until it reached the top of my thigh, where before fastening it in place I fanned out the lacy decorative top. Later on in my experiments I mastered the delicious garter belt, snapping the decorative top of my stocking in tight submission.

Once both stockings were on and in place I carefully checked my seams, for straightness by viewing the back of my silky legs in the full-length mirror. I would stand in front of this mirror for hours delicately lifting my skirts to different heights, unveiling my nyloned legs and showing my lacy under panties. The exotic glimpse of my black satin garter belt with long tendrils gently holding up my stockings gave me quite a sexual thrill. Each time I did this I felt a new awareness of my own sexuality.

The next layer of utter pleasure were the silky panties that fit loosely like boxer shorts. As I slid them over my ankles and up my thighs I felt a swelling occur between my legs as my penis began to enlarge to a full erection. I wondered did girls have this much trouble? Yes, I was still a bit confused about the differences between men and women.

My dad died when I was very young and there was no male figure in my family to explain the facts of life to me. In later years my sister would finally take me aside and explain the whole concept of sex to me. That's when I realized women got the better part of the sexual deal. Ladies got to wear all the pretty clothes and have an exorbitant capacity for sexual activity. A woman could have sexual encounter after encounter with different male partners, tiring them all out. She was worshipped from head to toe. Her beautiful breasts were cloaked in satin Bras. Tight pussy's draped in satin panties with lace trim. Sleek legs hugged tightly by Silk or Nylon stockings, being crowned at the tip of a dainty foot with delicate high heel shoes. Long tresses and full heads of hair scented with the aroma of exotic perfumes, gently filling the space around her sensuous body. I truly envied not being a girl or a woman. The presence of a sexy feminine gal is enough to unnerve and render any red blooded male into a babbling idiot. If he was lucky, she would choose him for a sexual partner on any particular evening and seduce him at her will. What power and control. It's hard to believe that women have tossed all those great attributes out the window, just so they can compete with men on the same level. When all along they had such an advantage over the power of men.

Next I would slip into one of the crinolines that I picked earlier and laid out on the bed with all the other goodies. At first the petticoat was a bit scratchy and uncomfortable, but once I slipped on a taffeta crepe under slip, beneath the crinoline, it all felt much better. Once again I felt a moist secretion in my panties. It felt gently cool and mysteriously sticky. I lifted my crinoline to see what it was, but could not find any measurable substance. My whole body felt aglow and titillating. I grew weak in the knees as I sat on the edge of the bed with my petticoats in the air. When my penis was at rest once again I resumed dressing as a girl. My total fascination at this point was with petticoats and their luxurious look and feel. I felt this is what an angel must feel like and going to heaven would be worth all the effort it would take. Over my head I pulled another full petticoat of a different color. The hem of this one had a fluffy lace and chiffon decorative trim. Again I put on another crinoline of yet a different color. This one had a shimmery satin finish to it and sown at various points along the edge were red ribbons. The rustling sound of all this femininity caused great excitement to me and I was anxious to put on the skirt.

The skirt I chose was made of a light chiffon material, beige in color. It was a full swirl skirt and it came to just below the knee. The design was flowery, small buttercups printed over the beige background. It was layered in three tiers with overlapping flounces at each level. Over this creation I dressed in a soft cashmere pink sweater. The flat chested look in the mirror was a real turn off, so I tried on a bra, stuffed with Kleenex. It looked just like Kleenex too. Later I found a falsie or two in one of the bottom drawers. They made a much better appearance , but something was still missing. It was then my mind recalled how breasts looked under clothes having a bouncing movement. Carefully filling two rubber balloons with water I created voluptuous tities for myself. Placing the balloons was tricky as I thought they might break and leak. I wasn't quite sure how high on my chest they should sit either. Gingerly I placed them in the satiny halter and put the sweater back on. WOW! I Looked great for a guy. My cock immediately swelled to twice it's placid state at the sight of my feminie sexiness there in the mirror looking back at me.


As I continued to check myself out in the mirror, the swelling of my cock continued to increase causing me to feel a dull ache. I thought it would explode under all that silk and chiffon caressing my young body. I Gently reached down to feel my cock through all the sensuous material that I was wearing. Then I squeezed my penis very hard. It grew even larger. So large you could now see it sticking up through all the finery covering my body.

I laid face down on the bed, and writhed my pelvis up and down back and forth. The rubbing of my penis felt good against the surface of the bed, especially under all those crinolines and silk garments. I could sense the hem of my skirt and the ends of all those petticoats touching the sensitive parts of my body. Especially the erotic zones on the back of my legs and thighs.

The writhing motion of my body became incredibly faster and faster, as if I were not in control. All of a sudden I had a sensation like I was going to urinate. The tip of my cock exploded with a hot sticky liquid and spread itself all over the silky under panties, slip and petticoats. I collapsed in sheer exhaustion, not knowing what had happened to me, but I loved it very much and wanted to do it again as much as I could. I stayed dressed in all the sissy clothes the rest of the night until once again about an hour later my cock swelled beneath my dresses and once again I masturbated some more.

This time I placed several pillows under me for added sensitivity. It seemed that for almost 20 minutes I was bumping and grinding on the pillows , but nothing would happen other than the intense building of erotic and sensuous feelings. Upon my weakened knees I stood as I pulled up all the silk, satin and lace under pinnnings up to my face throwing my flying skirts over top of the pillow and laid back down on the pillows. The cool soft pillows felt exotic against my flat hot pelvis and enlarged penis. Rigorously I pumped against the pillows beneath my loins as I watched my skirts billow out all around me in light gentle fluffy motion.

All of a sudden an extremely hot charge of my semen ejaculated from the opening of my dick. It seemed like I climaxed for at least minutes as I writhed and ground my pelvic area deep into the pillows under my command. Again and again ecstatic explosions burst from my genitals. I never wanted to stop! Eventually I grew very weak and fell into a sweet deep sleep. My cock remained hard the whole time.

As I slept, I relived the whole experience again in my dreams. Finally I woke up with a euphoric feeling of self satisfaction and contentment. For years this activity would occupy my free stolen moments of self induced pleasure. I never grew out of this activity, but have now taken to writing about it so that others might realize we sissy boys are not so abnormal, but we just have an increased sensitivity that most people on earth don't have any clue about. It is the prime reason many of us stay in the closet about our sexual pleasure derived from cross dressing. As I sat here today penning these words and re-reading for errors I couldn't help but experience the sheer pleasure of long ago, one more time I felt the hot tender creaming in my silk panties that I wear all the time, just to remind me I am the Happy Cross Dresser. I hope my tale has caused some of you to wet your panties too.
ing this now, I am wearing a white negligee over a pink nightdress . . . And I love it!


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