Planned With Precision
I often think that a number of crossdresser friends of mine could be military strategists. Especially those with wives and children who don’t know about the secret life of the man in their life.
We all know how difficult it is to keep any secret for a short time — yet many crossdressers not only keep a very big secret for their entire lives, but also manage to keep a stash or hoard of clothing, shoes, wigs, make-up and accessories hidden away from prying eyes for years and years on end. They manage to lead a double life, displaying a facade of normality, whilst inside they may be in turmoil, desperately needing to crossdress, desperately waiting for the next chance or opportunity to appear as their feminine self.
And once a glimmer of opportunity presents itself, then the campaign has to be expertly planned; the execution exactly right and the results in accordance with the strategy employed.
Let me give you an of example to demonstrate more clearly what I mean—and let’s assume that our crossdresser is married and with two children… and, no, his family have no idea about his need to present as a female now and then.
The example goes something like this: On a Tuesday evening, Tom (our hero) overhears his wife on the phone talking about possibly going out with her friends on the coming Saturday afternoon. His ears prick up and he strains to hear more. He hovers discreetly in the background to try to know more about the possible opportunity he may have for some valuable free time.
Hmm.., some free time on Saturday afternoon. Maybe, just maybe…, Oh, pleeeeaaaase… he thinks.
Feigning a degree of disinterest after his wife hangs up and tells him about her planned outing, he casually asks, “Oh…, what time will you be going? I thought I might head out for a few holes of golf on Saturday afternoon.” Sounds convincing enough, right?
“Don’t forget, both of the children will be out too,” his wife reminds him. Something Tom already knew and had stored away in the annals of his mind.
And Tom feels a shiver of anticipation runs down his spine. The beginnings of feelings of excitement stirring in the lower reaches of his stomach. A light quiver across the width of his shoulders. Feelings which he knows will stay with him for the next few days.
“Do you need me to drop you off somewhere?” he asks, endeavouring to make sure he can control the time his wife will leave home.
“Oh.., that would be nice, thanks. I need to be in that restaurant we ate at last week by 2.00pm. You know, the one over on the west side.”
I can be back home by 2.15pm thinks Tom. Earlier if I can persuade my wife to leave home earlier.
Before he can ask about a return time, his wife continues, “We’re then going to go bowling so I won’t be back until about 6.00-6.30pm.”
Four hours at least…, four glorious hours.
“Shall I pick you up, dear?” That will make sure she doesn’t come back home unexpectedly when I’m dressed.
“Oh, yes, can do. We can then swing by and get the children from that barbecue party they’re going to. 6.30pm should be fine to pick them up.
So, that answers my next question, thinks Tom. Casually again, “So what time do they need to leave home to be there?”
“Just before lunchtime….”
After acknowledging his wife’s answer, Tom wandered off to seek some quiet space to think: 3 days 18 hours to go. Children leave about 11.45am. If I can drop my wife off and be back at 2.15pm, I can have a quick shower, another shave and get all of my things together by about 2.40pm. Get dressed, do make-up and nail varnish…, ready by, what, about 3.30pm? That gives me just over two whole hours—assuming, of course, there are no last minute hitches.
The man felt a small amount of tension grip him as the thought of something going wrong on the day reared its head. Fleeting visions of his wife running late; getting caught in traffic on the way back home…
Think positive! When I’m dressed, I’ll chill out a bit, take some photos 3.45-4.30pm; change outfits, relax, take some more photos between 4.30-5.30pm. Oh…, I’m so looking forward to it…
A moment or so later, the man sighed heavily; unhappily. Clean off make-up from about 5.40pm. Change clothes and wash face again. Pack up clothes and accessories and reluctantly hide them. Double check finger nails are clear of varnish, and make sure that nothing looks out of place—none of my female clothes lying around.
Put away my alter ego until the next time. Leave home 6.00pm, pick my wife up 6.15pm, children at 6.30pm. No-one will be any the wiser…
Tom grimaced as he reflected on the brevity of the forthcoming opportunity. Just about 4 hours in total… Oh well, better than nothing I suppose .Just let’s hope all goes according to plan, no last minute problems! I do so need to dress… it’s driving me crazy not being able to do so…
He sat down in his study and thought through the plan again. Imagining what he was going to wear. Imagining the wonderful feelings which would engross him. Thinking about the sensations which would course through his senses: the relaxed state of mind he’d enjoy….
3 days 17.25 hours to go…
Category: Transgender Body & Soul