Busted

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Dreams can come true.
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"Happy is what happens when all your dreams come true," Stephen Schwartz.

Sandy came into the bedroom where I was still dozing, holding a pair of tights in her hand.

'Babe, I wouldn't ask, but I'm so pushed for time and I've just laddered my last pair of clean tights. I desperately need some before I go to this client meeting.'

She held them up as if to prove what she was saying.

'OK,' I said, still half asleep, 'what can I do about it?'

'Can I borrow a pair of yours, pretty please?'

My eyes snapped open. What did she just say? I rolled over to look at her and my heart was now hammering in my chest.

'What?'

'Can I pretty please borrow a pair of yours? You know, from that stash of yours?'

'What? What do you mean? I haven't got a stash. I haven't got any tights'

I could feel myself turning bright pink as the implications of what she had said sank in. She caught the look on my face and her hand went up to her mouth and her eyes opened wide.

'Oh my God, you didn't know I knew, did you?'

I stared at her, sure that the panic I was feeling was written all over my face. Sandy sat down on the edge of the bed and she laid a hand on my leg.

'I am so sorry, I honestly thought you knew I knew.'

I shook my head, afraid to even speak.

'Babe, we'll need to talk about this tonight, but can I please borrow a pair? I am so late and I don't have time to stop at the store.'

There was no point in pretending any more. I got up from the bed as if in a dream and walked into the spare bedroom. I reached into the wardrobe and pulled out the suitcase stored at the back. My hands were shaking so much I could barely work the combination locks, but they eventually opened, and I pulled out a new packet of black tights. I walked slowly back into the other bedroom, my face burning, not looking at Sandy and handed her the packet.

'Thanks, babe, you are a lifesaver.' She quickly kissed me on the cheek, whispered, 'I love you, babe.' and disappeared into the bathroom. I fell face first onto the bed and covered my head with a pillow. I heard the front door slam, and I began to thump the bed with my fist as I thought my life was over. I rolled back over and started to swear at myself under my breath.

'Fuck, fuck, fuck. You stupid fucking fool.'

What mistake had I made? I was so careful, but I must have given myself away somehow. Oh my God, what was I going to do? Separation, divorce, public shame, and suicide all flashed through my mind.

My rational mind managed to wrestle my overwrought imagination to a standstill long enough for me to think more clearly. Sandy hadn't seemed upset; she had obviously known my secret already and hadn't confronted me about it. In fact, the way she 'outed' me was so banal as to make me think she might not be too concerned. Her tights were laddered, and she had just come and asked to borrow a pair from me, as if that were the most natural thing in the world. Her last words as she left were, 'I love you, babe.' Not necessarily the words of someone who hated me for what I had been doing.

'Shit, shit, shit,' I cursed myself again, why hadn't I stopped all this when I married?

The truth was, of course, that I couldn't stop. There was a time, I guess, before I started crossdressing, but I couldn't remember when that was. I had been crossdressing since I was a kid and had begun by borrowing my mum's clothes. At bath-time, I had discovered Mum left her stockings and underwear in the laundry basket in the corner of the bathroom. I picked them up and felt a thrill run through my body as the soft nylon slipped through my fingers. Sometimes they were even still warm if Mum had used the bathroom before me. It wasn't long before I graduated from merely holding them to trying them on.

I knew deep down it was wrong, but I couldn't stop myself. I was drawn back time and time again to the laundry basket as if it had hypnotised me. The sensuous glide over the nylons over my skin and the tug of the suspenders from the belt that Mum occasionally left there was overpowering. The attraction was a strong as any drug, and like all addictive drugs, I craved more and more.

I began to raid my older sisters stuff as well and would hide some of her stuff so I could use it whenever I was alone. She was so lazy and untidy that she never noticed. I had a little pile of knickers, tights and stockings together with my most prized trophy, one of my sister's old bras. She would throw her stuff away regularly and if I kept my wits about me, I raided the bags of old clothes she was going to take to the charity shop. I was small and slender, taking after my mum and was only about the same size as my sister.

My sister left home when she decided to join the army and I managed to squirrel away a lot of the clothes she had left behind. Mum and dad both worked, so after school I would be able to dash home and have a couple of hours to dress up before they came home. Somehow, I never got caught, although there were a couple of close calls when they came home early. If they suspected something, they never mentioned anything. I was so happy when I get rid of my drab male clothes and slip into my female persona.

These sessions were sweet, but obviously short, and the risk of discovery somehow added to the sheer excitement of dressing up. There was a sexual element to what I was doing. but I never felt I wanted to be a girl. it was enough for me to look and feel like one for a while. It allowed something that was hidden away by my male life to emerge and that felt like it allowed me to balance two parts of my personality. I knew that I was attracted to girls, and even when dressed I didn't fancy boys. It didn't stop me feeling guilty though, and I tried to stop myself, but the urge to get dressed would return and I would find myself pulling on the tights again before long.

Around this time I was allowed to access the internet and like many others I found out I was not alone. I don't know what life for kids like me must have been before the internet and social media arrived. I discovered a whole world of possibilities were out there, and that what I was doing was not bad or perverted but something thousands upon thousands of people were doing. Understanding what I was doing helped me to adjust to it, and when I went to university things became easier. I still dressed whenever I could, but sharing a student house cut down my opportunities. I dated girls while I was there, even had a couple of girlfriends for a while, but the urge to dress was still there, and grew stronger the longer it had been since I last dressed. I realised then that if I hadn't dressed for a while, I would get moody and depressed. When I did get to dress again, I would become calmer and more relaxed. There seemed to be a direct correlation between my mental state and my dressing.

It was at university I met Sandy. She was the girlfriend of one of my housemates until they had a huge fight after she found out he was cheating on her with one of her friends. She stormed out of the house and I ran out after her to make sure she was OK. I managed to persuade her to have a drink, and once she had calmed down, we discovered we had a lot in common. We both liked Thai food, books, travelling, swimming, Hitchcock movies and, above all, film musicals. She was Jane Austen, I was more George Orwell. She liked Greece, and I preferred Italy. Sandy liked Rear Window, for me it would always be North by Northwest.

I liked her but didn't think much more about it until she called me a week later and asked if I wanted to go with her to see The Rocky Horror Picture Show. We had discovered we were both big fans of the film, and it just happened there would be a showing that week. Sandy said that when she went to see it, she really went for it and dressed up as Magenta. She didn't have anyone who would go with her this time and didn't fancy it going alone. Would I be willing to go and would I get dressed up too?

I asked if she meant I should go as Brad and she said that would be up to me, but she wondered if I would go as Frank N. Furter. Now, that's an invitation any crossdresser would normally jump at, but I had only just met Sandy and was a bit reluctant to go full on in front of her. She begged me to think about it and in the end I agreed, so long as she helped me get ready. I bought an outfit from a fancy dress shop and we met at her flat in the afternoon to get ready. Although I had dressed in private many, many times, I had never gone out in public en femme. The big attraction for me about this was that no one would care whether I would pass or not. In fact, the rougher the better would be the mantra for some.

Sandy's flatmate was away for a couple of days, so we had the place to ourselves. I had bought a bottle of wine with me, mostly to help settle my nerves, and we had a glass each before getting started on our outfits. I had bought a pretty basic costume, but it seemed to have everything; fishnets, suspender belt, tight black knickers, a shiny plastic waistcoat, gloves, and a plastic pearl necklace. I had also got a cheap synthetic wig to cover up my blond hair. I didn't have any shoes, but Sandy said she had a pair that would probably fit as I had small feet for a man.

I didn't have much body hair but shaved my legs anyway before coming over to Sandy's place. Sandy disappeared into her room to change into her Magenta costume, and I used the bathroom to transform into Frank N. Furter. I had kept myself in shape with my regular swimming sessions so I was not worried about how much flesh I would be showing in the costume. I stripped and pulled on a pair of my speedos before slipping the black knickers up my legs. I loved the feeling when they tightened around my cock and balls, and I ran my hands across my bum to feel the smoothness of the material across my buttocks. I had learnt how to tuck, but I thought that was a step too far with Sandy. I thought I would get away with the speedos for the extra control.

After putting on the suspender belt, I rolled the fishnets up my legs, a sensation I always loved. I smoothed them out with my hands and they felt so good on my freshly shaved and moisturised legs. The waistcoat, necklace and gloves followed, and I managed to fit the uncomfortable wig over my hair. I had a much better wig for when I dressed, but that was blonde, so no good for Frank. At that moment Sandy called out, 'Are you finished in there?' I took a deep breath, had one last look in the mirror and opened the door.

My mouth dropped open as I saw Sandy. Her Magenta outfit was far more French maid than Rocky Horror. She was wearing a very short black skirt with white ruffled petticoats, a tight black top, sheer black hold up stockings and a white frilly apron.

'What do you think?' She said holding out the skirt and twirling round.

I managed to close my mouth, and thought I was glad I had brought the speedos, because I might be needing them to control myself.

'It's gorgeous.' I managed to say. She did look fantastic, I had never noticed her legs before, but in this outfit they looked so long and the tight top clung to her breasts like a second skin. It didn't look as if she was wearing a bra.

'Wow, well right back at you,' said Sandy. 'You look fabulous in that. You have got seriously great legs.'

She took a second look at them, bent down and ran her fingers up my leg, which did nothing to ease the pressure in my speedos.

'Have you shaved them?'

'Yes, I thought I should, is that alright?'

'Absolutely, they look awesome in those fishnets, I'm quite jealous.'

'No need, yours are beautiful.' She actually blushed as I said it.

'Well, thank you Frank. Come on let's get your makeup done.'

She sat me on a chair at the table and brought out her makeup bag, pulled up a picture of Frank N. Furter on her tablet and started to work. I had become reasonably accomplished at doing my make up, but it had always been a dream of mine to have a girl do my makeup. I was in seventh heaven.

'You have very pretty eyes,' said Sandy, and as she was so close to my face I could see right into her beautiful brown eyes.

'You too, Sandy.' I said, before I could stop myself.

She giggled, and I thought I could really get to like hearing that sound. She worked quickly, and it wasn't long before she sat back and smiled, 'You know, even if I do say so myself, you don't look half bad.'

Sandy brought over a mirror and I had a first glimpse of my new alter ego. I had to say she had made a very good job of it. She held up the picture on the tablet next to the mirror and it was very close.

'Sandy,' I said, still looking at me new face, 'Thanks, you've done an awesome job.'

She leant forwards and gave me a quick kiss on the lips, 'You're welcome, babe, you look good.'

I wasn't expecting the kiss, and it gave me another tingle in my speedos.

'Now for the shoes,' she said. Sandy ran into her room and came back with two pairs of shoes, one with a short chunky heel, and the other pair with a three inch heel. I eyed those enviously as I had already mastered walking in heels, but if I grabbed those, I would have some explaining to do, for sure.

'These are the only pairs I have, try these lower ones on.'

She slipped one onto my foot and as she held my ankle to fit the shoe, I felt yet another tingle. I prayed the speedos would hold me tight for a bit longer. The shoe was a bit tight, but it did fit. Sandy slipped the other one on and I took a few steps around the room. I made it look more difficult than it really was, but it didn't take long for Sandy to see I was able to walk in the low heel. We shared the rest of the bottle of wine, and then nicely buzzed, slipped on our coats for the walk to the cinema.

I stepped nervously out of the flat door grabbing onto Sandy's arm and looked around, expecting at any time someone to point and shout, Freak. Of course, no one did, most of my costume was concealed beneath the coat anyway. I became more confident the longer we walked, and in a way I began to enjoy the feeling of the air blowing up beneath the coat and the feel of my stockings rubbing together. We passed a few people, and they smiled as they saw the makeup, I even got one or two good natured wolf whistles. Sandy and I walked arm in arm and before long we began to meet others dressed in costume, obviously on their way to see the film. We nodded and smiled at them, some dressed as Brad or Jane, some as Magenta and a few as Frank N. Furter.

We arrived at the cinema and it made quite a sight with the costumes and the flash of cameras as people took selfies or group shots. When Sandy and I removed our coats we were greeted with cheers and whistles as people saw how we were dressed. We were in instant demand for photographs, with many of those not dressed asking to be photographed with us. I admit I got a huge buzz from what was happening, and I posed along with the best of them. Sandy and I took our share of selfies, individually and together, as well as a few group shots with other people in costume.

The film was great fun with people shouting out the lines with the characters and singing along with the songs. By the time the film ended we were hoarse from shouting, singing and falling about with laughter. As the house lights went up someone stood up at the front and announced that there had been a competition for the best dressed couple. He looked around, spotted us, beckoned us down to the front and declared us the winners to huge cheers and whistles from the audience. We were presented with a couple of bottles of champagne and a cinema pass as prizes. We had photographs taken for the local press and became celebrities for all of ten minutes. In addition, we had another round of selfie taking as we left the cinema.

Sandy dared me to walk back without my coat, and I said I will if you will. So, we walked back to her flat arm in arm, getting an amazing response from passers by on the way. We walked up the stairs to her flat, laughing like a couple of school kids and eventually flopped down on the sofa, still giggling about what had happened.

'I can't believe I've had so much fun,' Sandy said, in between giggles.

'Me too,' I replied, 'even when that bloke grabbed my arse, I thought you were going to deck him.'

She laughed so hard she almost choked. 'His face was a picture. I think he almost peed himself.'

'Thanks Sandy for making me do this, it was the best night I've had for ages.'

'You're welcome, babe. I wouldn't have gone without you, so thank you.'

She leant across to give me a kiss on the cheek, missed and kissed me instead on the lips. She drew back a little, looked me in the yes and then kissed me again, our lips sliding against each other and her tongue flicked through my lips to touch mine. Without thinking my arms went around her, and we were kissing hard as I fell back on the sofa with Sandy on top. I felt her stockings sliding against my fishnets and suddenly the speedos weren't strong enough to contain my growing erection. Sandy pulled open the waistcoat and kissed and sucked my nipples, and I tried to reach her breasts but before I could she slid further down, slipped her hands into my knickers and pulled them down together with the speedos. She released my cock, kissed the tip, looked up at me, smiled and slid her bright red lips over the head. I nearly passed out as she started using her tongue on me, and I leant my head back and closed my eyes as her soft lips and tongue whirled around my cock.

I knew I couldn't last that long if she kept going like that, so I lifted her head up and pushed her back onto the sofa. I pulled my knickers and speedos off, dropping to my knees in front of her. I pushed up her skirt, my hands gliding over her stockings, hooked my thumbs into her knickers and pulled them slowly down. She was watching me wide eyed as I did so, and I could feel her shudder as I pulled them right off. I pushed her legs apart and bent forward so my face was right into her pussy. I licked her with long strokes of my tongue and she was already wet. I opened her up with my fingers and sucked her hard little clit and I could hear her hiss above me. I flicked my tongue up and down her pussy and she squeezed my head between her legs. I was lapping up and down and then forced my tongue into her as far as I could. She hissed again and put her hands on the back of my head and pulled me tight against her pussy. I carried on for a few minutes before she pushed me away.

'Please fuck me now, I need you inside me.'

She sat back on the sofa and spread her legs holding them apart with her hands. I leaned forward so that my cock was in between her legs and she wrapped her legs around my back holding me in place. I felt her hand slide down between us and she guided me right into her. She gasped as I pushed my way in and went as deep as I could before beginning to move in an out. She pulled me down to kiss me as I began to move in and out, faster and faster. She bit my lip as she writhed beneath me, and I managed to get my hands onto her breasts and she moaned as I played with her hard nipples.

Sandy began pushing back against me and I knew I couldn't last long. I slowed my pace, and she was gasping now, then with a buck of her hips and a long drawn-out moan she came, and a few seconds later I felt my cock twitch and I came deep inside her. We kissed, and I held myself in her until I felt myself began to shrink. I pulled out and lay beside her on the sofa, grinning at each other like cheshire cats. I stayed the night, and we made love again in the morning. We both skipped classes that day and spent the day in bed, getting to know each other and what we liked. We eventually came out of her room in the evening to have pizza delivered and one of the bottles of champagne.