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Matt looked exceptionally young for his age and blessed with a complexion that meant he wasn’t all that troubled by facial hair. Spots were non-existent, always had been, even in his teens. Yet at twenty-eight years old you could never classify him as normal. His slim body, born out of long legs and a standard-sized upper torso fulfilled all his needs. He couldn’t be described as ripped at all. In fact, with the right hair, makeup and clothes he would pass as a woman.It wasn’t that he hadn’t tried either. One of his girlfriends once made him dress up in her clothes so that she could pretend to have lesbian sex. It backfired on her, Matt liked the feel of the stockings on his long legs far too much. The basque and suspenders felt even better, and the long black dress she made him wear looked spectacular on him. It was her best black evening-wear dress, the one she would wear to parties. The only things he couldn’t wear were her size four and a half heels. They were far too small.She even made him wear lipstick and bought him a blonde wig. It was her fantasy after all; Matt would have chosen a black wig as he always liked brunettes better. By the time he was dressed for her, he looked delectable. Ready to eat, as she put it. The sex turned out to be unbelievably hot especially when she simulating fucking him while his stockinged legs were wrapped around her waist.Let’s just say that when they split up, her dress got misplaced when she moved out of his flat, a tube of her nicest red lipstick also fell behind one of the seats of the sofa and her stockings were caught up at the bottom of the washing basket. It was unfortunate that he couldn’t keep the basque, but once she had vacated the flat he did buy a size eight pair of heels and a suspender belt. Why wouldn’t he, seeing as he enjoyed dressing up so much.At first, it was just the dressing in the comfort of his own home. He looked the part and masturbation sessions soon turned out to be far more exciting than they had ever been. For four months he never actually bothered to find another girlfriend or partner. He was happy to play the tart at weekends and have fun on his Escort Side own.The more he liked the feel of his new clothes the more he experimented. Wearing knickers out in public became the norm, sometimes he would even wear hold up stockings but they didn’t feel the same under jeans or trousers. There was something about the feel of fresh air as it brushed past the nylon or silk fabric that made his skin stand on edge.He even shaved his legs; no big deal, he thought, loads of cyclists shaved their legs.Women were attracted to him though, and he did slip into a few relationships, however short term they were. One girlfriend felt disgusted when he asked her whether she would like him to dress sexily. Apparently, that wasn’t what men did. Men fucked. Needless to say, she didn’t last long. There were one or two that entertained the idea but he could see that they weren’t really into it.That’s when Matt bought his very own wig. A black-haired one, and that’s when he started to shave as close as he could, buying a proper shaver rather than those electric ones that only got half the job done. He even bought more female clothes so that he experiment with dress styles such as jeans and tops. He would parade around his flat in whatever gear he fancied, wear lipstick and his wig and get used to walking in heels. He masturbated whenever he dressed up and that amounted to about four to five times a week.Meeting the outside world was a gradual progression, but it happened. He eventually left his flat and walked outside to the bus stop where he caught a bus and rode ten miles to a pub on the outskirts of town. He reasoned that someone in a pub close by might recognise him.He felt quite cool sipping a Gin and tonic, after stopping himself from ordering a pint of beer, not that that would have been stupid but it was certainly less prevalent where he lived.He was enjoying the evening on his own. Just being someone new, someone different. He liked his reflection in the mirrors behind the bar, he loved the feel of the clothes he had on and for the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel like he had to manavgat escort make excuses to anyone. This was him.The pub visit was to become a regular haunt with him. That all changed one night when a bloke started to chat him up. His voice still resonated with deep tones and he could feel the tension between them. He wasn’t sure whether he should try and squeak a little higher or just be normal. He went with normal and after about ten minutes of attempted conversation, he finished his Gin and tonic and made his excuses to leave. The other thing he noticed while he finished his drink was that his cock had grown. Luckily he was wearing ripped jeans, otherwise, it may well have embarrassed him in a short skirt.The bus home was a time of reflection, but the one thing that he couldn’t stop thinking about was the reaction he had to the guy standing next to him. The fact that he got chatted up at all indicated that he must have come across as very feminine. Female even.When he reached home, he had decided that change was needed. At least for a while.Matt started to look at some different websites; yes, they still included porn, but the others concentrated on cross-dressers, transexuals and gay people. He had decided that he would be better off with like-minded people rather than have guys come on to him that would get offended. Better to be safe than sorry.In a relatively short time, Matt had questioned his sexuality, questioned his liking for wearing women’s clothes to the point that he actually passed as one, questioned his relationships with other women and men. He was still a resolute male when it came to his work but he wondered whether that could change too. His life was in turmoil that lasted a good few weeks.The breaking moment was when he received a message from another crossdresser on one of his many websites. One that lived quite close, and one that wanted to meet him. That was when he started to question his life all over again. Did he want to go through with it? Did he want to meet another crossdresser? Would he/she expect anything to happen?Try as he may, he couldn’t get alanya escort bayan the thought out of his head and that’s when the conversation started between Mattea and Stephie. It started with words, a few at first and then several sentences were strung together and then stories started emerging. Stephie was adamant that she should be regarded as a gurl. Pictures were added and emails sent with those famous paperclips that made both Stephie and Mattea excited. From the images, Mattea could see that Stephie’s breasts were real or at least enhanced in some way. She was much further down the road than Mattea was.It was no surprise to him that Stephie wanted them to meet and once he had looked at her profile pictures and viewed the images that had been emailed, he too felt the same. It had taken a long time though and the journey was fraught with questions.At first, there was nothing sexual that was driving his reasoning, just that two like-minded people could get together have a drink and laugh at a place that accepted them for who they were.They met at a place called “The Church”. As its name suggested it was a disused church that had been made into a new-world bar with the highest ceilings that any bar could have. Seating was comprised of high bar stools and tables together with some comfy leather sofas. The décor was chic, the ambience was just right and Stephie was chic too as she stood outside the bar waiting for Mattea to arrive.The greeting was not that of a normal couple, there was no kiss on the cheek, no handshake, just the obligatory nod of the head and the rise of a hand to indicate that they should go inside, which they duly did. Drinks were ordered, seats were chosen and then coats removed. Mattea smiled when he saw that Stephie was wearing the same yellow dress that he had thought to wear that evening but changed it to a little black number.Stephie was also tall, with blonde hair, blue eyes and with much larger breasts than Mattea had. Breast sizes turned out to be a common topic of conversation throughout the night. Mattea wore his black number and made every effort to look smart and attractive.Stephie’s hand reached out to him and stroked his face. “You look beautiful,” she said.“So do you,” he replied.The soft-touch of affection seemed to relax the tension in the air quite considerably. They were both thankful for it. For Mattea, it had been a long journey. For Stephie, a long wait.