Those uncomfortable boyhood memories when looking at scantily clad women with my friends. How they h

Those uncomfortable boyhood memories when looking at scantily clad women with my friends. How they had no idea how little I was excited by the girls in the magazines. To imagine if they knew that I regularly dressed in my mother’s lingerie, makeup and a wig, and posed seductively in the mirror, for an imagined crowd of males, being driven wild with desire for my effeminate, glamorous little body. If only they knew what really excited me. If only they knew that I was a fairy….