A taste in couture is in built. You either love fashion or just wear anything to cover your body without any purpose. I feel fashion gives a sense of character to people. It makes them who they really are. Take my example for instance, I was 12 when I found my mom’s new red platforms under the bed. It was love at first sight. I wore them and walked around the room. I even added my moms dangling Swarovski earrings with a faux fur neck around to complete the look. That day, the man in the mirror was me, dressed appropriately to please my soul and not the society. That brings me to share my confession of cross dresser encounter with my cleaning staff.
Today, I am a happily married man. My wife loves to go shopping with me. I like the way she parades from the changing room like a model on ramp to show me her dresses. Sometimes I wish that I could do the same. So, I head back home and wait for her to leave for work. Then starts my real me time. I love to dress up in her clothes. I pair her outfits with matching accessories. I wear them in our bedroom and walk around, interacting with my imaginary girlfriends at my kitty.
It was one such evening when I wore my wife’s green sequined gown. I complimented them with jade earrings and a wrist cuff. I did my make up and added a hint of glitter over my eye shadow. I wore my favourite wig of long brunette hair, just like my mama. For that beautiful me in the mirror, it was time to celebrate. I got up and walked to the bar to pour myself a glass of wine. That’s when the door opened with a bang.
It was Hernando from my cleaning staff. He was a strong muscular man with a thick moustache. His skin was like the sand on the beach, golden and rough. He wore a white shirt with short sleeves and khaki shorts. He opened the door on me and paused for a second. He had no expressions whatsoever on his face. But I was dying inside. I flipped my hair to cover my face and turned around to give him an impression that it’s Ruby, my wife. But he still stood there, as if staring through my body, in to my soul.
He walked inside the room and turned around to latch the door from within. I was scared and sweating profusely. He walked towards me with a poker face that broke in to a smile. That was the first time that I noticed, Hernando has dimples. He held my hand and looked me straight in the eye. He said, “You look beautiful”. That was music to my ears. No one in my 42 years ever told me I was beautiful. Tears rolled down my cheeks. He leaned in to kiss my lips. I couldn’t believe this was really happening and I was having cross dresser encounter with a strong macho man. There was a volcano of emotions exploding inside me. His hands ran through my long hair and down my hips.
He grabbed my ass and squeezed them softly. His kissing was intense now; he was licking all around my mouth, my face and neck. I moaned like a woman. His hands were moving from my waist to the slit on my thigh. He slipped in and secured my parts in his warm palm. Now he pulled my satin panty aside from the sides of my leg. His hand found its way in to my manhood. I could feel his rough skin on my hard parts. He stroked me rigorously while biting my lips till I couldn’t take it anymore. I came.
I stood there with my heart in my mouth and Hernando got back to what he does the best, clean the floor.