Now lets move on to story…Initially i use to wear my sisters dresses or my mothers bra,panties,saree,blouse,petticoat and see myself in a mirror and...admire myself. Though i wasnt so good at makeup, i used to apply lipstick and put some jewellery items. It couldnt make me look like a girl but the feel of women’s clothes turned me on. And then i used to masturbate after my every crossdressing session, thinking about being fucked by a guy. But then as i grew up chances of being alone became less. I felt like he would have sent some acknowledgement if he had.I never went back to the job at the tavern, nor did I return to the dingy little apartment I'd called home through my pregnancy. I look back on that period as a kind of exile I put myself through as punishment for the sin of leaving my family for something as "trivial" as love.Of course, it wasn't trivial, but I felt like I needed to be alone to try to mend my broken heart and to pay for the pain I put my family through. Something. More

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