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College Campus

April 13, 2012

I started taking some classes at a nearby university.  I was there at nights.  Sometimes there were late nights.  One day, I got an idea.  I was “underdressing”.  I had on feminine undergarments.  I had on pantyhose (because if I am wearing anything femme, I am wearing pantyhose too.)  I thought I could go out and take a walk and roll up my pants legs.  I could walk around this campus at night where my hosed legs could be seen.

I have taken walks at night in shorts and hose.  I have taken a day trip in a town in shorts and hose.  But these experiences were rather long ago.  Going out that night on that campus was as unnerving as if it was my first outing ever!

I was wearing darker hose than ever before on this outing.  I walked around the campus, my pants were pulled up six inches.  No one saw me, of course.  It was a non-event.   I repeated this outing a few times.  One time at least, I wore shorts and skin-toned hose.  I remember this because a car came up behind me and, in order to get away, I started jogging like I was exercising.  The car followed me.  When I came to a cul-de-sac, I thought I was going to lose them.  But the driver called out to me.  He was an older man.  The car had two older couples in it.  They needed directions to get somewhere.  They never noticed my hosed legs as far as I could tell.

The boldest thing I ever did while I was attending that college was attending a club meeting.  There was a gay/straight club at the school.  I thought that I might like to attend their meeting wearing my slip on shoes, hose, and no socks.  I contacted the club’s leader and he said I was very welcome.  They were all gay.  (I am not gay.)  One side of the room were guys, one side girls.  I sat on the girls’ side (out of fear of gay men?).  I was warmly welcomed, but then they started asking me questions.  I told them I was straight.  I did not have the nerve to confess that I was a crossdresser.  They got suspicious.  What’s this straight guy doing here?!?  I think they feared I might be a spy from a hate group or something.  No one noticed my hosed ankles except *maybe* one girl who had a small dog that came over to my feet during the meeting.  Yet again, it was a non-event.

I never went back to that club meeting.  It was definitely interesting.  I had no common interests with the group.  The attitude of the group was somewhat profane and crude.  I suppose they have felt unwelcomed by society and developed a complex about it.  I was really surprised by the number of guys in the room who talked with a lisp or a dainty voice.  I thought that was just a rude stereotype that wasn’t based on truth.  I guess there was more truth to it than I expected.

 

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From → True Stories

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