Like Many Transvistites

By Zoe Montague
Like many transvestites, and ultimately (after much soul searching) that is how I identify, my dressing in female clothes started early; around the ages of ten or eleven. Like most I can remember the exact trigger; a keen horror buff, and drawn in by the title, I was sat at home one Saturday evening watching The Rocky Horror Picture Show when my young life was to be forever changed. Of course, as it turned out, the film had absolutely nothing at all to do with horror, but I wasn’t to know that. I don’t know what it was exactly, but the sight of all those men and women parading around in stockings, high heels, lingerie and make up, really got me aroused; I remember squirming in embarrassment on the sofa, praying my mother and father wouldn’t notice my erection.

Shortly after that the compulsion began; I just knew I had to try on a pair of pantyhose. The thought would not leave my mind. I’m not sure how many hours, days, weeks, passed but ultimately my quest led me to my mother’s room, and her underwear drawer. I have absolutely no idea how I knew I would find what I was looking for there, but of course I did. All kinds of pantyhose of different deniers and styles. I settled on a pair of glossy, black, pantyhose (still my preferred option to this day).

Even now, over thirty years later, I can recall the heart pounding thrill of locking myself away in the bathroom and clumsily slipping my smooth legs into the silky nylon. It wouldn’t have taken very long before I experienced my first orgasm, and after that the feelings of confusion and guilt; why do I want to wear women’s clothes? Am I gay? A girl in a boy’s body? Not to mention panic; I MUST get this pair of pantyhose back in my mum’s drawer before she notices they are missing!

Of course, the feelings of guilt and shame didn’t stop me the urge to do it again returning, and I was soon making regular return trips to my mother’s underwear draw; mostly I would borrow her pantyhose, masturbate and return them, other times I would wait until everyone in the house was asleep and slip them on while I slept, relishing how soft and silky my legs felt underneath the covers. Gradually what started out as primarily a nylon fetish grew to include, dressing in lingerie, dresses, skirts, high heels, make up, and eventually wigs. Somewhere along the line Zoe came into existence.

It’s easy to forget but I started dressing before I had access to the internet, and the opportunity the net provided to discuss these issues with like minded souls, so I wasted a few years in the usual cycle of dress, stop dressing, purge, urge to dress, dress, cycle. Eventually, around about my late twenties/early thirties, and with the help of a few counselling sessions, I learned to embrace the fact I was a transvestite, and stopped asking, ‘Why?’ and then the fun really began. If only I’d had that acceptance in my early twenties! Oh, well; better late than never.

Anyway, my dressing gradually evolved to include nights out with a small circle of transvestite friends, all the fun that can be had online, and even publication of some of my pictures in some magazines. Of course, there is a still a sexual element to my dressing, a cursory look at my Flickr page will verify that, but it isn’t the driving force it once was. Now, I’m just as happy lazing around in lingerie and silky stockings, as I am playing in them.

Overall, I love being a transvestite. I love dressing as much now as I ever did, even if the huge sexual thrill isn’t what it once was, it is still hugely erotic and exciting to me, and anyway is anything as intense in your forties as it was when you were a teenager? I love being a transvestite, and even now I’m looking forward to what adventures it may bring in the future.

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