Her Girly Boy

I was in my late twenties and I was staying over at my sister's for a few weeks while she was overseas on business. At night, I would dress like a girl; everything including panties, bra, stockings, skirt, the whole nine yards. It was a Saturday and I was dressed like a girl. I knew I had plenty of time; she would not be home until Monday. I did not hear the door open at all. I came out of the kitchen and there she was. She just looked at me, put her bags down, took my hand, and went in her bedroom. She put a wig and some make-up on me, and then grabbed my hand and pulled me outside. We walked to the mall, which was about two miles away. For the next few hours, we just looked around. When we got home, she said that from now on, I would be her girly boy. I still dress like a girl in her memory.

— Toby, 50