Remembering Louise

When we left the bar at closing time, I would check what kind of coat my date was wearing. If she was wearing a leather coat that would be more points. If she pulled out a pair of leather gloves that would be more bonus points. Most times my "date" would have come to the club with other girl friends and so I could get to drive her to my apartment.

One gal in particular will always have a place in my heart. Her name was Louise. Oh, how she loved to dance. Not only was she a looker. . .petite with long brown hair, great complexion, and a fantastic smile to go with a great personality.

She must have lived in that black lambskin leather skirt. Lord only knows how she ever kept that skirt clean, but it always looked brand new. I asked her outright a couple of times how she did it but she always laughed and said it was her secret.

She had a great collection of satin blouses; some shells, and some with long sleeves. I soon found out that when she wore the shells, she would also be wearing her long black leather gloves, and a three quarter sleeved lambskin leather coat and her designer boots. Came to find out that she worked at one of the best departments stores in the city.

Right from the beginning, I felt that I could be honest and open with her. We never did play any of the silly games that so many singles and divorcees play. I knew she was going to find out sooner or later that I was a cross-dresser but I did not want to lose her.

I would always play her compliments on the way she looked and on her clothes. I told her that if I was a woman, I would want to dress just like her. She thought that that was the greatest compliment. We teased each other a little and she wondered what I would look like in women's clothes. She thought that I was more aware about women's things which was something she liked about me. I was busting in my jeans to tell her that I was a cross-dresser, but I knew she would find out when she came to my apartment.

Now I kept a fairly clean apartment which was definitely feminine in its decor. I always had fashion magazines laying around and the ironing board open with some lingerie draped over it and a lot of photos of myself "en femme" and other cross-dresser friends.