I didn’t tell my girlfriend, Shelley, that I liked to wear her clothes when she wasn’t around because I never thought she’d be into cross-dressing.

I also didn’t want to scare her away. I’d always kept my cross-dressing a secret. This wasn’t difficult. I simply indulged in my private fetish on nights when I was alone.

She is the first girl I’ve ever lived with, and I found staying out of her closet to be almost impossible. All those fancy outfits, pretty sweaters and dresses made of stretchy jersey. I’d never believed all that would be so close to my fingers — or body. So whenever Shelley went out on the weekend with her girlfriends, or if she was late at the office, I’d slide on one outfit or another from her extensive wardrobe.

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