Moment of Truth

So...my life has pretty much come down to this. I came home from work to see that my wife had bought a new skirt. She had tried it on and was modeling it for herself in the mirror. She looked great. The skirt nicely accentuated her sexy curves. And judging by her reaction to her image in the mirror she really liked it. But the first thought that popped into my head was, 'that's a really cute skirt, I can't wait until she goes to work so I can try it on.'

I've been a closet cross-dresser since puberty first changed my life. In fact I was probably more like 10 years old when I first tried on a pair of my sister's panties. I remember it was after school one afternoon. My sister was at a friend's and my mom was just getting started on dinner. I happened to notice the panties on top of the hamper in the laundry room.

They weren't all that sexy. They were just girl's briefs, white with blue trim at the waist and legs. But the silky-smooth material was irresistible. I had seen them before, and others like them. But something in that moment made me stop and wonder what they would feel like. So I grabbed them, stepped into my room, and closed the door. I don't remember many of the details other than once I had put them on I was hooked. They were so much softer and smoother than my briefs.

After that moment I would sneak my sister's panties, and sometimes my mother's panties, from the laundry whenever I thought I had enough time to enjoy them. Not every pair I saw, though. I was selective. I wasn't into sniffing them, or turned on by the fact that they had been worn and had been rubbing all day long against a pussy. I couldn't explain it at the time, but I can say now it was just the sheer femininity of them.

It was shortly thereafter that I discovered masturbation. The panties helped of course. At first it was just a natural progression from feeling my erection through the sexy nylon of the panties. But after stroking myself to my first orgasm I knew it would be a regular part of my secret panty wearing.

All through junior high and high school I would steal panties from the hamper, or even clean panties from my sister's drawers. I would wear them under my clothes around the house, and even when I was outside playing. On occasion I would wear them all night long when I was sure I would have enough privacy to get away with it.

And eventually the panties weren't enough. I would try on their bras and slips, and even their dresses and skirts, whenever I had the opportunity. In fact, whenever I was home alone I would put on a pair of panties and often a dress or skirt, and then go about my business as if I was a girl and it was a normal day. Sometimes I would pretend I was on a date with a guy while I masturbated. Sometimes I would pretend I was a slut and imagine myself being ravaged, stripping my clothes off as part of the fantasy.

I was devastated when I got to the point where their bras and dresses didn't fit anymore. But I never outgrew their panties. When I finally graduated from high school and moved out for college I was overjoyed. I was a little bit sad about not having constant access to my sister's panties. But I quickly realized that I could finally buy my own and keep them in my room as long as I wanted. And fortunately I had a roommate that kept to himself so I was able to build a fairly nice collection of panties and assorted lingerie that was all my own.

Even better was when my roommate graduated two years ahead of me and I ended up living on my own. I no longer had to hide anything and I was able to wear panties, lingerie, and whatever feminine clothing I wanted, almost whenever I wanted. My wardrobe grew to include a couple dresses and skirts. I even found the courage to buy myself a realistic dildo after I discovered the joys of anal self-pleasure. From there my fantasies expanded to include being a girl on a date with a man and having intercourse, or being forcibly taken from behind by a guy or another girl with a strap-on. I would experiment with whatever I could think of, bringing myself to orgasm and sometimes tasting or swallowing my own cum.

But I knew that eventually I would want to grow up and have what most consider a normal life. I dated a bit, but always kept my personal activities a secret. On one occasion a potential girlfriend discovered my secret wardrobe and freaked out. On another occasion a girl caught me wearing panties on a date and called me a pervert before finding her own way home. So I knew I would eventually have to choose between my life with panties and a normal life with a regular girl.

The transition turned out to be easier than I thought it would be. Once I had met the right girl I was able to suppress my inner desires, at least enough to develop a relationship. And she was totally worth it. Vivien was beautiful, with long blonde hair that had natural waves, deep blue eyes, and full, luscious lips. She was well proportioned, with tits that were just the right size, a narrow but not-too-skinny waist, accentuated by those wonderful, womanly hips, and lusciously smooth legs. And she made me laugh. She was one of the few people I had ever met that could make me feel at ease in just about any situation.

We started slowly. But after only a month or so I was sure she was the one. So I boxed up my feminine clothes and very reluctantly dropped them off at Goodwill. It was a bitter-sweet parting, and I actually turned around once and almost changed my mind. But once the deed was done, I was able to fully commit to Vivien. Our relationship grew quickly after that. We spent every minute that we could together. The sex was fantastic, but the way she made me feel when I was around her was far beyond anything I had ever hoped for.

We dated for a year before getting engaged. And another year later we were married. By then we had both graduated from college and found fairly good jobs. It was a wonderful life. The only downside was when our work schedules didn't mesh. There were times, not extend times but often entire weeks, when Viv would be heading to work just as I was getting home, and we would have to wait for the weekend to spend any time together.

It was during one of those periods when my secret passions came back. I would say it was a gradual process, but in reality it happened almost overnight. I was alone one evening, folding some laundry, when the feel of her panties in my hands brought everything back. Without a second thought I had stripped off my clothes and had the panties on. And I thanked my lucky stars in that moment that Vivien and I were nearly the same size. She's a hair under 5'8" and I'm just a shade over 5'10". And we're both slim. So her clothes, as I discovered that evening, fit me rather well.

For the rest of the week, while our schedules kept us apart, I tried on nearly every stitch of clothing she had. Most of it fit, and quite a bit of it I liked a lot. So from that point on I would wait for the times when our schedules were off and I would wear her clothes around the house.

Eventually I grew bold enough to sneak a pair of panties either from the hamper or from the drawer and wear them under my work clothes. I even had a couple of close calls at work, and once at home, that made me nervous about getting caught, but not enough to make me stop.

But virtually all roads lead to a fork. And eventually the inevitable happened. On this fateful day I had worn a pair of Vivien's panties under my work clothes. They were so comfortable that I actually forgot I was wearing them. She he was supposed to be working that evening so I wasn't afraid of getting caught. But on this occasion she had actually gotten the night off, having traded with a co-worker who wanted a night off the following week. So when I got home I just naturally started to change my clothes. She was sitting on the bed, asking me about my day and talking about random things that had happened to her over the week. Without thinking I pulled off my shirt and then my pants. And before I realized what was happening I was standing in front of her wearing only my undershirt and a pair of her pink panties.

I held my breath, hoping she wouldn't say anything. But her silence wasn't because she didn't notice. She was sitting on the bed, her mouth hanging open, too stunned to speak. Not knowing what to say I just kept silent myself, wanting to hide but unable to move.

Finally Vivien broke the silence. "What in the hell is going on? Why are you...wearing my panties? What...?"

I just hung my head, knowing that my secrets had finally come to light. There was no way out. I was totally caught. I could lie my way out, but what would I say? So after a long, pregnant silence I turned and was about to head into the closet to find something 'normal' to change into. But as I started to walk away she stopped me.

"Oh no you don't. Don't you dare walk away. You get your sorry...panty-wearing...sissy ass back in here. I want to know what's going on." Her tone was demanding. And since I was caught I figured I may as well get it over with. It was the moment of truth, if you will. From this fork in the road I would either spill my secrets and have Vivien walk away in disgust, followed by a nasty and humiliating divorce, or I would spill my secrets and hopefully find that she can live with it. Either way, I couldn't pretend any more. Even if I hadn't been caught, the desires were becoming so strong that it was only a matter of time.

I walked back to the bed and stood in front of her. Her eyes went back and forth from my face to the panties I wore. And her expression was a swirling mixture of anger, disgust, and confusion. Then finally, "Start talking!"

And so I did. I started at the beginning, just as I have here. I told her about my childhood, and the discoveries that I made that changed me inside. I told her about the things I had tried, about the self-sodomy and eating my own cum. I told her about how she changed my life, but that our schedules had given me too much of an opportunity to regress, not that it was her fault in any way. And finally I told her how the desire had become so strong that I wasn't sure if I could ever go back to pretending they didn't exist.

It was a long story, but I held nothing back. And by the time I finished she had tears in her eyes. I had no idea if they were tears of pain or fear, or if she would ever be able to accept me. But it was clear that things had changed between us. And after a long silence she finally responded. Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper, and devoid of almost all emotion.

"I'm not sure what to think about...this...right now. I'm...I think I would like to be alone. Tonight." Her meaning was clear. And while it wasn't an outright rejection, I knew I would be sleeping in the guest room.

I turned around and started picking out some clothes for the next day. But when I started to pull a pair of briefs out she stopped me. "Oh no. There's no point in stopping now. No reason to...pretend...anymore, right?" Then she got up and pulled open her own drawer, taking out a pair of thong panties and a matching cami. Tossing them to me she said, "You may as well wear these. If it gets you off so much you should definitely wear them." Then she grabbed the briefs from my hand and tossed them into the trash before going into the bathroom and shutting the door behind her.

I picked out some work clothes and took them, and the panties and cami she had given me, and headed out. I could hear her mumbling as I walked out. I couldn't really hear everything she said, but the words "pervert" and "sissy" came up more than once.

I got maybe two hours of sleep that night before having to get up for work. Not knowing how late she had stayed up I did my best to be as quiet as possible. I showered in the guest bathroom and then put on the thong and cami she had thrown at me. They were actually one of my favorite sets, and I had worn them on several previous occasions. Had I not been facing an impending inquisition and possible firing squad I would have been overjoyed in that moment. But reality was heavy, so I finished getting ready for work and left.

We still had two more days of opposite schedules to go, so Vivien was gone by the time I got home. For the most part I was glad. I wasn't ready to get into an argument, if that's where this was heading. But part of me was disappointed. After a long, nearly sleepless night I really needed for us to talk about things. But either way, it had been a long day and I needed to unwind.

I went into our bedroom to change my clothes. As I started to take off my pants and shirt my mind went back to the day before. I actually found myself wishing Vivien was there to watch me undress, to see me wearing her panties again. I settled for watching myself. I stood in front of the mirror and stripped down to just the thong and cami I had worn all day. In all honesty I had really enjoyed wearing them. They felt great and fit well. I was still a man, so I looked a little silly in the mirror. But seeing myself wearing thong panties and a cami still sent a tingle through my body.

I went to the dresser for some clean socks. But when I opened the drawer I immediately saw that all of my underwear was gone. Vivien must have taken them out during the day. I had no idea what that meant. The second thing I saw was just as curious. Where my underwear should have been were two pairs of panties, one with a matching bra and one with a cami similar to the one I was wearing. There was also one of Vivien's old nightgowns. And on top of them all was a note.

It was brief, but concise. "Tim, I'm still not sure what to think about this. We definitely need to talk, but will have to wait until Saturday. Until then, this should be enough to get you through. (If not, you'll have to get some panties from the hamper.) I threw out your old underwear, figuring you wouldn't be wearing them anymore. You should probably sleep in the guest room until Saturday too. Until we figure out the future of our relationship I don't think we should sleep together. Still, you should be comfortable, so I'm giving you one of my old nighties. --Vivien."

That was it. But to me it said a lot. There was very little emotion in the note. But at least she hadn't thrown me out. And she had left me some of her panties to wear. So perhaps there was hope for us after all. I took the silky, feminine items she had left me and carried them into the guest bedroom. That's when I found another reason to hope. On the bed were laid out two of Viv's summer dresses. On them was another note that said, "You may as well be comfortable, if this is what you really want."

Immediately I pulled on one of the dresses. It had been a few weeks since I had worn one, and it had been nearly three years since I had worn one without fear of someone finding out. I still had some fears about how everything would turn out. But at that moment I felt more free than I had in a very long time. It felt great to walk around the house in the dress and not have to worry about when Viv would be home.

And going to bed was a new adventure altogether. I had worn her nighties around the house before, but was never able to wear one all night long. It felt very sexy and feminine. In fact, it felt so good that I ended up masturbating twice before I was able to go to sleep.

The next day was Friday, and it went pretty much the same as the day before. I showered in the guest bathroom and then put on the fresh panties and cami that Vivien had left for me. Putting my work clothes on over the panties I headed off to work. All day long I kept thinking, 'I could really get used to this. I just hope Vivien is still around while I do.'

Friday evening, though, went a bit differently. Not knowing how things would change after the weekend I stopped for a few personal supplies on the way home. Some things I was running out of, some things we usually shared but may not be sharing in the future, but some things I just wanted to change. Mainly I wanted to get myself some lady's deodorant, always having preferred the feminine scent to the more manly scent of my own deodorant.

There were no notes for me when I got home, and no more gifts of clothing. So I slipped on the same dress I had worn the evening before and went about my evening. But my mind kept fixating on two things. I was worried about how our talk would go in the morning. By the end of the weekend I would either be starting the divorce process, or starting over with Vivien but with no more secrets.

But no matter how our talk ended, I was going to be wearing panties for the foreseeable future. There was no way I was going back to briefs. There was really no reason to. Ever. And so I found myself lost in thoughts of the changes I would make. While I never actually wanted to be a woman, I had always preferred things that were feminine, preferred being feminine. Before I met Viv I had actually shaved my legs and body a few times. I loved the way a woman's legs felt when they were freshly shaved, and always wanted to experience that for myself.

So before going to bed that evening I found myself doing something else I hadn't done in over three years. I took my electric shaver, and, using the mustache trimmer I trimmed the hair on my legs and ass down to just stubble. Then after a soak in a hot bath I sat on the edge of the tub and shaved my legs smooth. I was no expert, at least not yet, so it took me nearly an hour. (It's not so easy to shave behind your knee if you hardly ever do it.) But after a final rinse in the shower, which also served to clean out the tub, every part of my body except my head and arms were completely hairless and smooth. I wondered what Vivien would think about it. But I knew that it was basically all or nothing from this point. My skin tingled as I dried off. And not wanting it to dry out I stole Vivien's moisturizer and rubbed the lotion all over my freshly shaved body.

Now that my legs were totally smooth, the silky nightgown Viv had given me felt even more amazing on my skin. And like the night before I ended up stroking myself to orgasm before I was able to sleep. I wondered if this would become a nightly need, and I fell asleep hoping it would be Vivien taking care of that need in the future.

I slept pretty well considering everything that was going through my mind. But I still woke up earlier than usual for a Saturday. I figured Viv would sleep longer since she hadn't gotten home until after midnight. So I got up and got dressed, putting on the last clean pair of panties I had. Like the others, I had worn them several times in the past, and liked the way the looked and felt. The bra also felt nice. I had only worn it once before, but it fit quite well considering I had no tits to fill it. Finally I slipped on a clean dress, and after an application of my new feminine deodorant I headed out into the kitchen for some breakfast.

Walking around the house in the dress felt great, especially the feeling of my smooth skin as my legs rubbed together and against the dress. And knowing Vivien was actually home and could walk into the room any minute brought an added thrill. But I still found myself jumping at every sound, wondering when Viv would finally get up and what she was going to say when she saw me.

It was mid-morning when Vivien finally emerged. She was looking rather casual, wearing a dress very similar to the one I was wearing. She walked into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of the coffee that I had started when I heard her in the bathroom. Then she came into the living room and sat down in a chair across from me.

"Good morning," she said very cordially. "Did you sleep ok last night?"

"Actually, I slept pretty well last night," I answered. "How about you?"

"Not bad. It was a bit hectic last night so it took me a bit longer to relax. I'm glad it's Saturday."