Green suit from crimplene

Several years have passed since the story about "coming out". Tamara didn't mention this story. I, of course, could not forget a second of this adventure, but everything remained inside me. I was trying to build a relationship with a girl, a work colleague, and I threw out all the women's stuff. But the relationship did not work out and I began to slowly restore the women's wardrobe.
The history of this dark green suit is most accurately dated to 85-86. In those days, the topic of homosexuality, not to mention TG/TS / TV/CD, was closed in the USSR and I had no idea what was happening to me and how to explain the desire to be like a woman. And I lived and changed in spite of my own " common sense."
I didn't have my own outerwear at the time, and this Tamara suit was practically the only top women's clothing in the house.

I also had cheap gray sandals with low heels. Something else from women's underwear. Especially remembered nylon stockings. Then they were produced with a drawing in a line along the entire length. So I had these with cubes. It was summer, but the nights have been already dark.
One night I was drawn to the street.
Appearing on the street, in public, is probably a separate topic of conversation. On the street, the excitement, if it was, immediately passes. Only fear remains. "Sense of danger" doesn't sound so offensive. You try to avoid meetings. If people pay attention to you, the first thought is to hide. But if you don't arouse suspicion, it's a great feeling. So, the goal is close, and if I'm not becoming, then at least I look like a woman.
I walked down our street. You can stay in the shadows there. Then there was a difficult place, You need to go through a wide Avenue. Then follow the path along the Avenue to the next street. And even on it, though the yards to the lake, surrounded by alleys, where, in the shade, and you can walk. I had a plastic bag where I threw my cigarettes, a mirror, and some makeup.
 The adventure began on the path along the Avenue. The path is about six meters away and passes through the trees along the construction fence. I was turning into the next street when I caught a glimpse of a taxi that was slowing down too fast at the intersection. Well, don't turn around! I'm coming, I hear someone following me. I'm on the other side of the street. When I cross the street, I look back - some guy. I crossed over and he followed me. That's when it became very scary. I run into the first front door and fly up almost to the roof. I hear him coming in, too, and stopping on the floor below.
What to do? Nowhere to go. I stand there, trembling all over. It's quiet downstairs. I must have stood there for an hour, afraid to move so that the plastic bag wouldn't make a noise. At the bottom silence. The guy doesn't leave. Well, I was starting to come to my senses. I can't stand here forever. Hell with it. He knows I'm here anyway. I sat on the windowsill and lit a cigarette. That guy, maybe out of fear, seemed huge to me. I'm wearing heels. I'm not very stable. But the situation is hopeless, I have to go down and pass it.
I clenched the lighter in my fist and started down the stairs. The guy is standing at the bottom, pressed against the wall and does not block the road. Bared his cock and shows me opening-closing the tip. I pass as if I don't notice, though my eyes must have been like saucers of surprise. I live on the street. Where to? I can't go home! He catches up and asks something neutral, like, " What time is it?"or something else. I'm scared to death, whispering in the highest possible pitch, " Go away. I'll scream!". The guy went somewhere to the side.
I thought it was all over well. Just in case, I decided not to go to the house yet, so that no one would follow me and find out where I live. I went out onto the Avenue and walked along the sidewalk along the houses. Without moving away or approaching my house. I've calmed down. I walked slowly and looked at my reflection in the windows. Suddenly I hear that someone is following me!!!
I am almost running, until I reach a street where I can turn into the shadows. Then I realized that my heels were clattering. I turn into a street that looks like it's too far away to see me. I went from the asphalt to the lawn, past some garbage dumps, through the bushes, winding in different directions. I think that he will lose me, will not find me. I'm wearing a dark green suit. Only the face and legs are visible in the dark. Yes, this package is white. I'll run, get up, listen-quietly. I'll run again, quiet again. Well, I think I ran away, and he lost me.
I sat down on a bench near one of the houses. I think if I hear him coming again, I'll hide in the house. It's getting lighter and morning is coming . I'm going home, there will be a lot of people on the street soon. Suddenly, quite silently, my "vis-a-vi" appears on the track . Passes by the house and asks me in a dissatisfied voice something like "do you have Matches?". In General, something that I had to answer either "Yes" or"No". I no longer have the fear or the strength to run.
He looked at me and went on his way. Apparently he got a better look at me. I sat still. Made sure the guy left. I went home quietly, looking around the yards. That's what he was-my first "admirer".

This photo was taken ten years after the adventure.

Another story is connected with this dress.

After mom died, dad didn't date anyone for a very long time, and we didn't have any women at home.  When I got back from the army, I found out that my dad had met Tamara. She lived in another city, but often came to work in our city and stayed at our house, sometimes for a few days. Tamara was about 40 years old, but I saw in her an adult woman who seemed much older than me. To my joy, women's clothing appeared in the house that matched my size. Of course, I wore her clothes in secret. But I kept my secret strictly from both dad and Tamara.

And then one day my father went away for a few days, and Tamara, so inopportunely for me, came. I wore lingerie and tights under my usual home clothes, but I really wanted to change completely. I made up my mind. I started telling Tamara a made-up story that I had argued with the girls at work that I would change into women's clothes. But before I saw them, I want Tamara to look at it and tell them if it's going to look too bad. This story looks dubious and certainly not original. But at the time, it was completely new to me and unexpected for Tamara. Consent was obtained, and I quickly changed my clothes. I was wearing underpants with foam padding to add volume to my thighs, a bra stuffed with rags, the only non-torn tights, shoes, and a pink dress. Wig, clip-on earrings, lipstick and bright blue eyeshadow. It was fashionable then.

And so I went out from my room. I was just shaking with fear, but Tamara took the situation calmly and even a little prosaic. She examined me, said that it turned out well, but I need to " walk around, get used to it." Now, after reading a lot of real and fictional stories on the Internet, I constantly see that this story is repeated countless times.

I begged her not to tell dad anything. Tamara promised to keep the secret. She also said that she did not see anything unusual in dressing up, and that her first husband wore women's clothing when guests were present.
Further, however, I did not know what to do and events were already developing under the control of Tamara. She asked me what I was wearing, what clothes I still had.
Then she asked me to go to the grocery store and buy a bottle of wine. I had to dress back and I thought the party was over.

But then she asked me to change and put on a bodysuit and stockings. She didn't wear a tight-fitting garment herself, and she wanted to see what it looked like on me. Wow! I changed quickly. And although times were still chaste, I decided that there was no reason to be shy about showing a women's underwear to woman. As something strange, perhaps, on me looked modified cowards, for adding volume to the thighs with a zipper to the fanny. For a very long time afterwards, I remembered this exit with delight. And I wished I had thought to wear a short Tamarin robe to make the show even more spectacular with a small element of Striptease.

Tamara gave me an appraising look, complimented me on my figure, and told me to put on a dress.
Under the dress I wore a petticoat with lace at the hem.
Well, it's late in the evening, we sit next to each other on the couch, watching TV and Tamara explains to me such a feminine trick that when you sit leg over leg, the skirt hem should be slightly pulled up so that there are laces of the petticoat. Somehow I didn't notice this for the girls, but if it is necessary, then it is necessary, and I carefully pulled up my skirt so that the edge of the lace was visible. I experienced a very unusual feeling when she stroked my knee.

Then Tamara let me wear her skirt and shirt. Well, then she offered to undress at all. This was my very first sex in my life, helpless, because I only had a very General idea of how it happens.

Never before, and never since, have had I missed the sex. All my fantasies ended with dressing up. I've come up with a lot of daydreams where I've had to change my clothes, either willingly or unwillingly, but it's never been about sex.

The next day, Sunday, I was confused and didn't dare change my clothes. But on Monday, I changed my clothes right from the morning before Tamara left for work. Allegedly, the resolution of the dispute was scheduled for this day. But I just wanted to show her again.