There had always been something pulling at my psyche. A persistent UK cross dressing itch I couldn’t quite scratch. Almost as far back as I can remember I have loved the female form, with a particular penchant for legs. Legs that go on and on. Sometimes hidden beneath clothing, sometimes on stark, vivid, sensuous display. But always the mysterious female form. So beautiful in every shape and size. I’m sure most men think the same but for me it was also something else, a desire to be as close to that ideal as I could. A desire deep within me to realise my need for UK cross dressing.
I recall at a very early age raiding my mother’s underwear drawer and trying on a pair of her tights. More specifically, I remember the fantastic feeling of the nylon caressing my legs and the strange new noise they made as I walked around the room. My UK cross dressing had started albeit tentatively! Time passed and though there was the occasional raid on said drawer, but it wasn’t until I was into my teens that my desires emerged from consciousness to UK cross dressing reality. Again the drawer called me but rather than simply touch and wear the tights I decided to go that one step further. With an eye mindful of co-ordination (looking back the signs were obvious) I took out a pair of sheer red tights and a matching red lace body. Convinced my mother wouldn’t miss these items I took them for longer than the usual transient 10 minutes. Wearing the items transported me into another world but importantly I admired myself in the mirror. My UK cross dressing had now begun in earnest, or rather in wonderful, fabulous red!
I knew my mum had a bag of shoes in the loft she never wore and now feeling better than ever (and being careful not to ladder the tights), clambered into the loft. The shoes were a size 5 perfect for my growing frame not only that, they were red, and strappy type, high heeled sandals. I was in heaven: I was exquisite I had a woman’s legs. UK cross dressing in style! Disaster would inevitably strike. My mother in the process of clearing my admittedly teenage mess of a room stumbled on the RED clothing clearly not as well hidden as I’d hoped. My UK cross dressing secret had been discovered.
I remember her words to me clearly. “I hope you are not turning into a pervert” to which in return I stammered “no I was only looking.” I was shocked and ashamed to my core. I vowed to myself to be ‘normal’: no more UK cross dressing for me. The ‘normal’ debate will go on and on but the reality for me was that the itch never went away. After my teenage years I had dressed, though usually very basically, lingerie and tights or stockings but always with the same come down afterwards. After these sporadic UK cross dressing experiences.
Until recently the epiphany. A friend took me to a club where there were a number of crossdressers, some very convincing indeed. I was awestruck with their beauty. I wanted to be one of those UK cross dressing girls. I wanted to have the confidence, the belief to do the same, be a full girl from top to bottom. But really, really could I go through with that. Was UK cross dressing really for me? Was it simply a short term thrill? The internal debate was relatively quick due in part to the fact that I had been thinking the same way for years. And the years were passing by.
After an enlightening UK cross dressing search on the Internet there was only one possible avenue of approach: JJ. Let me regress slightly … “Almost as far back as I can remember I have loved the female form”. Well here was the finest of those forms. JJ was exquisite, not only her physical beauty which I immediately fell for, but the depth, quality and understanding in her prose. Too good to be true I thought: could a UK cross dressing service really be like this? But taking courage born from years of hiding and frustration I made contact.
Having outlined what I would like to experience and leaving my contact details via JJ’s UK cross dressing website I waited for an approach. JJ called me back the very next day with a manner of understanding and thoughtfulness that made me completely at ease. I was going through with this. I wanted to become the UK cross dressing girl of my dreams. Admittedly with some trepidation I drove to the appointment and after some deep breaths steeled myself to exit the car and approach JJ’s UK cross dressing apartment.
For those reading this without having seen JJ in the flesh you may have asked yourself whether the photos on the UK cross dressing service website are a true representation, and you are correct in your assumption they are not. JJ is immeasurably more attractive in real life. Truly, I felt both humbled, relieved and joyous all at the same time … a feeling clearly portrayed by my shaking hands and look of disbelieving wonderment.
JJ welcomed me into her immaculate apartment, leading me into the front room. She proceeded to set me at ease right away with an understanding, caring but also a matter of fact yet compelling demeanour. She showed me into the bathroom where my male clothes were to be exchanged for a beautiful silk negligee and dressing gown. This time my UK cross dressing experiences were truly here to stay, with no going back from this moment on.
For the next hour or so she smoothed my male persona away with deft brush after brush and application after application of UK cross dressing service femininity. I had never worn full make up before having only briefly played with lipsticks previously. Nails were painted for the first time ever, foundation applied, eyes made delightful, false eyelashes and of course red glossed lips. I was already floating on a UK cross dressing sea of disbelief. Throughout, JJ talked me through the process making sure I was feeling ok at every step. Looking in the mirror opposite already I didn’t recognise the UK cross dressing woman looking back at me.
Taking me through again to the bathroom JJ had laid out a beautiful pair of panties and a new packet of black Charnos nylons. A further step into UK cross dressing heaven but the piece de resistance was yet to come. JJ helped me into a bra, filling out the cups with silicone breast forms to accentuate the male to female UK cross dressing transformation. We then glided through to the main room. I was quite literally taken aback by the array of clothing displayed. Delightful dress after dress and a myriad of beautiful shoes .Had JJ not already anticipated what would fit and suit me, I could have literally been lost in choice.
As it was the short fitted red velvet designer dress was of course UK cross dressing perfection. Helping me into the dress JJ smiled and smoothed out the errant wrinkles “Oh this is going to be good” she purred. She suggested a blonde wig and I had already lost myself to the whole UK cross dressing experience to really offer an opinion … and I needn’t have worried in any case. Shoes next. Initially selecting a sandal for my oversized feet JJ was clearly not happy with the look. A perfectionist to the very end she insisted instead on a pair of black patent high heeled court shoes.
I took a breath, JJ turned me around to look into the full length mirror opposite. I confess right now I would have cried were it not for JJ reminding me I had make up on and I would ruin the UK cross dressing look. I have never been as surprised, excited and delighted. Overwhelmed is not an understatement for this my first true UK cross dressing day. The woman staring at me surpassed my dreams. She was beautiful, and I exclaimed, a touch ridiculously, that I fancied myself! Job done? Not quite. JJ asked me what my name was. UK cross dressing Samantha was born in that room.
What followed were UK cross dressing lessons in walking and speaking both delightful in themselves. I urge you if any part of this story resonates to have courage. I have already booked my next visit and I must find those killer heels.