BEING FOUND OUT
BY STATS
I am a crossdresser. Have been since age eight when I found a pile of discarded female clothes in the attic. Now, at age 28, I shave my legs and arms, wear nail polish on my toes and female undergarments to work.
I have a particular fetish for women's shoes and will occasionally slip a pair on while working at my desk in my office. I have grown a respectable ponytail over the years but there are three other guys in the company who also have long hair. Of course, two of them also have macho type mustaches. I tell everyone that I would love to grow a mustache but the one hundred and four hairs above my upper lip, I actually counted them, doesn't make any kind of mustache that will stand scrutiny. Don't know what else to tell about good ol' Dave except I am five six and one hundred and forty-three pounds with only my panties on.
I have very few friends except at work. There, I several buddies. My very closest friend is Stacey. Stacey is a soul mate. She can never fail to get my out of one of my mood swings with a "Hiya Dave, would a roll in the hay with me put a smile on your face? What makes this particularly interesting, is that Stacey, or for that matter anyone on the face of the planet, has ever rolled in the hay with me. Maybe that is what has built up our special relationship. Stacey knows she can trust me, I can't count the number of times I gave her encouragement and comfort in one of our apartments after she had just ended another brutal relationship with some slime ball who was only interested in another conquest. I am sure that we would bed if I asked her, or she asked me, but over the years - four years to be exact - I think we are both afraid it would impact our deep friendship for each other.
Then there is Michelle. Michelle drips sex. She has to have one of the most feminine bodies I have ever seen, wears clothes that take full advantage of her generous female assets; enticing cleavage, tiny, tiny waist, classic female hips and a set of slender legs that stick provocatively out of her mini skirts. Michelle has perfected the art of wearing nothing and hiding everything. She and Stacey are close friends and Michelle, who prides herself in daily conquests, has never come on to me. I guess it is respect for Stacey and to some extent that I am not macho enough for her taste. Nevertheless the three of us always seem to have lunch together and spend time together, which, in retrospect, could best be described as three girls having fun.
Yet, I just knew that Stacey and Michelle had no clue that I was transvestite. It is like, if it was important I would have told you years ago. To help conceal the fact, I had never gone shopping with either of them and had masterfully turned the conversation onto safe topics if it drifted onto a taboo area that might reveal my secret.
I have several guy friends as well and I seem to balance my time with them so that to all concerned I am just a normal guy who happens to have a couple of really close female friends.
Well, that changed. It all started, I found out this evening, when Michelle and Stacey walked into my office yesterday morning to tell me that one of the unmarried girls in the office, Anne had just announced she was four months pregnant. I had heard the commotion outside but couldn't get myself out there. I was wearing my very favorite pair of shoes, velvet black, open toes, four inch high heels with ankle straps. My desk hid my secret attire quite well so I was not particularly concerned that I would be discovered. As the incident started with one of the other employees telling the poor girl that she was developing quite a tummy, it was not an intended disclosure. They both thought that it would be helpful if I could spend a few minutes with the poor girl who was now in the washroom crying her eyes out.
What was unusual was that Michelle was wearing the very same shoes that I had on. All I could do was stare at her feet while they both babbled on that I was the only one who could help. When I finally looked up both were suddenly silent looking at me in shock. I knew that they knew that I had more than just a healthy male interest in Michelle's feet. Finally, Stacey said "well Dave, if you are really that taken with Michelle's shoes we will go out at lunch and help you buy a pair." I tried to hide it with a "Don't be ridiculous", go fetch Anne and I will have a talk with her"
In the next thirty seconds I had my females shoes off and in my locked bottom drawer, some socks on, and my loafers on my feet. When the three of them reentered my room I emerged from behind my desk and made sure both Stacey and Michelle had a good look at my socks. As the two of them exited Michelle turned around to catch me staring at her shoes again and commented that one of my socks was inside out. I spent a half an hour with Anne and she left in good spirits, particularly as I told her to take the rest of the day off and I would talk with the staff on her behalf. I, however, was ready to take an overdose.
I purposely didn't go to lunch with Stacey and Michelle. Spent time with the guys, something I very rarely did at lunch. That evening at home, I removed my female clothing, cleaned my nails, and took a macho shower. I packed all my female things in their boxes and put them in the very back of my closet. Somehow, I felt that if I removed it all from sight, I could make the incident go away. I was miserable, and I really didn't know what I was going to do the next day which was a Friday. Get a short haircut? Arrange to date with one of the girls? Anne? Announce that I was going to grow a mustache?
The next day was without incident. Michelle entered with one of her million dollar smiles to ask if she could borrow my car, as she had done dozens of times in the past. Later, Stacey dropped her head around the corner and asked if my boyfriends would let me have lunch with her. I replied only if she would drink beer, swear and fart. She laughed, said she would do her best, and disappeared.
Michelle was still out doing errands so Stacey and I had lunch alone. We talked mostly about Anne. I had been able to convince Anne that none of the office thought any less of her because of her pregnancy. I reminded her that many women had decided to raise children on their own as they couldn't bear to spend time with some inconsiderate lout with major character flaws. Further I had explained that there will be so many occasions that she will be proud of her baby and be so happy that she brought this tiny soul into existence.
Stacey finally said, "You know Dave, that is why both Michelle and I feel so fortunate to be your friend, you are one neat person."
When I got back from lunch, Michelle was waiting for me with one of her winning smiles. She returned the keys and said that Stacey and her were going to have to use a conference room on another floor to organize a project for a client so they may be late for the Friday dinner and movie we often celebrated the end of the week together. I didn't think much of it at the time.
When I arrived at the restaurant the waiter told me that neither of the girls were there yet but I was to take a seat in a back booth, about as far from the few people who were in the restaurant as possible.
I almost choked on my wine when Michelle walked to the table. She was wearing the black open toed shoes with the ankle strap and a black dress very similar to one I had in the box in my closet. Even her toenails were painted in my very favorite candy apple red color. As she reached the table she says, "You were so fascinated with my shoes yesterday day that I decided to wear them again tonight."
I was just gaining my composure when Stacey walks toward the table wearing the very same outfit right down to candy apple red toenails. As she sits down, she says "Dave, you gave such a reaction to those shoes yesterday that I decided to buy a pair as well to see what all the fuss was about".
With that she takes a package out of the shopping bag she has and puts it in front of me. "This is for you", she says with a smile that had affection written all over it. Stunned I open it and find another pair of the shoes in question and a note.
To our dearest friend Dave,
We had only seen the look you gave to Michelle's shoes yesterday a couple of times before, when a woman finds the perfect thing to wear. It became instantly clear to both of us that you were in love with female clothes. After we left the office we had recalled a number of incidents that have happened over the years that supported that you were a transvestite. At lunch today, while you were telling me about your gentle caring session with Anne, Michelle was searching through your apartment for evidence. We did not want to jeopardize our friendship having no evidence so support our theory. As you can imagine Michelle found plenty of evidence. So here are your shoes and I also have in my bag your underclothes, cosmetics and a your black dress that is very similar to what we have on. When you have read this letter we shall adjourn to the ladies room to get you properly attired. Coincidentally, the movie "I Enjoy being a Girl" is playing across town and it seems to be ideal for three girl friends to see at your coming out party.
Did you know that Michelle is bisexual? I have resisted her advances for two years, but now that I know that you are a girl as well, I think it is time we all get to know each other better. I can't believe how much this is turning me on.
Your friend and future lover Stacey.
P.S. After I am through with my two dearest friends they will have a new definition of "being turned on".
Your secret admirer, Michelle.
"Ladies, I have put an out of order sign on the ladies restroom as you asked, let me know when you are finished" said the waiter who was admiring the shoes on the table.