He fastened the bra, then spun itaround. Amanda had not left his breast forms out, so he stuffed the cupswith Kleenex. He stepped into the dress.Mark ...an his hands over his sides, over his bottom, over his bra. Therewas nothing that made him feel like this. A lot of cross-dressers willswear to you that it's not just about the clothes, but damn, to Markthat was a lot of it. There was an electricity to the lingerie, afeeling of comfort to the dress. Shoes. He loved shoes. He loved feelingearrings. "Fish out of water much?" I said out loud to myself. I ignored him and shifted my gaze to the TV. Of course they were watching football and rugby. 'This was quite the manly pub I chose', I thought dryly. Feeling more and more self-conscious, not my usual state, I slumped in my seat and pulled my phone out to check out was going on in the states. The waitress slapped a pint of Guinness on my table, startling me. 'What the fuck?' I thought. "Is this the only size you have?"I asked embarrassed.. More

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