I'm John, your normal, ordinary heterosexual male that, when given the chance, would like to get in a woman's panties. And I mean plural. No hot-blooded man in his right mind is monogamous and doesn't want to. That's just the way it is. But I have a twist. As JoAnn, Jill, Angela, or whoever I decide to be, I get into woman's panties quite often and enjoy it very much. You see, I am also a very good cross-dresser.

It started when I was very young. I had an older and a younger sister. We were all nicely, a year apart. My mother, a stay-at-home mom, enjoyed dressing us up in other clothing. Depending upon my age and size, she would dress me in whichever sister's clothes fit the best and then dress one of my sisters in my clothes. And then, she would set up scenes where we would pose while she took pictures. Unfortunately, those pictures ended up in our family album causing me much embarrassment whenever people viewed the album and snickered when they saw me in girls clothing on those pages. I had to hide that album whenever my buddies came over.

Fortunately, I enjoyed getting into my sisters' clothes. I found the sheer fabrics and the airy feeling of wearing a skirt very cool and interesting. Even when I got older like 12 or 13 and started to have erections just thinking about it, I indulged my mom with her dreams of us being models and continuing to, sometimes, dress me in women's clothes for her pictures. One time, I had a boner and she saw it and laughed. My sisters giggled right along. Didn't seem to bother them at all. I got a little red-faced and it fizzled.

Unfortunately, I was small and skinny; didn't develop any real muscles and my voice didn't deepen into the expected baritone required for wooing girls over the phone. I had real trouble in my teenage pimply years even getting dates although I participated in school activities like plays and choir to get close to girls. They all seemed to be looking for the more manly jock type that I couldn't match very well. I tried wrestling but didn't find that jostling with a man was the same as doing it with a woman; something I craved but was not very good at.

I was good at math and computer games. I did explore porn on the Internet and found it to be rather trashy, boring and not my interest. I wanted the real thing. So, I got into computer science and found myself involved with a Silicon Valley startup my senior year in high school. There was no need to go to college because a six-figure salary awaited me when the company moved to San Francisco that year. So, off I went. My mother cried but both her and dad gave me their blessing.

My company was into innovation and very liberal on all kinds of fronts. We would do 48-hour marathon coding sessions and then everybody would take off for Tahoe, Santa Cruz or Yosemite or wherever to have a good time camping, skiing, surfing, deep-sea fishing or whatever we wanted… We had the money. There were a couple of nerdy girls working with us but mostly we were a male bunch. I got myself a loft in a warehouse district that was being converted but still couldn't persuade any girls to come over because I was such a loser at pickup lines in bars. I couldn't dance very well either. A couple of the online dates I got were with other, nerdy girls like me… matching my profile nicely.

I was still getting into women's clothes by going to places like Victoria's Secret and pretending to buy for my girlfriend from the super attractive sales girls there. Then, I would go home to my loft and dress up in the undies I bought and parade in front of the full-length mirrors that were everywhere but largely unused, while I masturbated to women I knew but couldn't get to first base with. Those undies felt so good. I kept them as clean as the ones I borrowed from my sisters and mother before I left home. I wonder if they ever knew?

On Broadway, I discovered Finocchio's and fit right in. With some lavish tipping, and getting to know Joe and Eva, the owners, I got backstage and learned some tips from the pros. I even had an opportunity to join the chorus line a couple of times a week. But I was more of an amateur alongside those professional cross-dressers and entertainers. Some were way too gay for me. Outlandish drag queens. I just wanted to look as feminine as possible… learning.

I started small. Going shopping for women's clothes dressed as a woman. Careful to speak like a woman in soft tones, I had no trouble talking to women clerks as I shopped. I had shaved completely, wore mini dresses, a wig and light makeup in all the right places. Sometimes, I wore falsies and sometimes I just went flat-chested. My legs were the thing that looked feminine in those short dresses. I wore low heels at first until I got used to walking in them. Higher, later.

On the street walking and riding the cable cars and buses, men would look at me, so I knew that my disguise was working. It took me a little while to get up the nerve, but I soon found myself going into dressing rooms and women's stores trying on my selections. The clerks loved it, and so did I. I bought what I tried on. Occasionally, I would see a girl partially undressed in the dressing room area. Trying to keep from getting an erection. Mostly succeeded or waited in the dressing room until it died down.

Women's restrooms were more of a challenge at first. But I soon found, particularly in busy ones, that every woman was in a hurry to get in and get out and didn't pay much attention to me. I would go into an empty stall between two other stalls, pull up my skirt and pull my panties down over my knees when I sat down. And then, I would place my handbag makeup mirror on the floor where I could see into the stall next to me.

If the woman that came into the next stall looked down at the mirror, she would see my panties and skirt and think nothing of it. Although it was difficult at times, to catch a glimpse, I often did and enjoyed masturbating while catching those glimpses and hearing women coming and going… doing what needed to be done for my fun. I never used a camera to take pictures or put anything on the Internet. These experiences were all personal and I didn't want to exploit those women like so many did. Didn't want to go to jail, either.

The riskiest thing I ever did was enter gymnasiums and go to women's locker rooms. I never undressed in those rooms, generally just walked through or touched up my makeup in the mirror and sometimes, got in a stall there. Women in gyms tended to be young and fit. Very pleasant to view.

Finally, I found myself going into lesbian bars. It was amazing how many beautiful women were lesbians and actually bisexual. Apparently, I looked better as a woman than a man, and often went off with a beauty from the club to either my place or hers. Before we left and she started to reach between my legs, I always whispered in her ear what she would find there. It turned some girls off, but I was surprised how many it didn't.

So, that has been my life. I married one of those so-called, lesbians. We have an open relationship and she and I often go out together dressed as women for fun and games. Once in a while, she'll hook up with a guy, but it comes with the territory. I've learned easily how to put a guy off who comes on with me. Love the look on their face when they find out.

You may disagree with my lifestyle from your point of view, but if you read this far I certainly titillated you, didn't I. At least I don't have to be an ordinary John… And pay for it.

Copyright 2017 © Ronald W. Hull

3/15/17