I am a redhead with a constellation of freckles. Unitl I was almost sixteen I was virtually breastless. I cringed at thought of having to shower in front of these girls who were tall, blond, and with tits you could use as a floatation device. I looked scornfully at my reflection. Perhaps that is why I fell for Miss Crawford. We seemed to be feathers of the same ugly duckling. I helped Miss Crawford, who allowed me to call her Rachel when not in school, with the team, luging around equpment and assisting during practises. I was growing more and more fond of being with her. Whenever she touched my shoulder or patted my ass in a playful manner I felt these electrified needles pricking my skin. She even started invading my dreams. My sister told me on several occasions I called out her name in my sleep. I didn't even dare record these thougfhts in my diary for fear of my brother or perhaps one of my parents should find it and read it. What would they think of me? Perhaps they would. I wondered why Joan would save everythingfor so long.I checked my watch. I had spent the better part of an hour in the attic.I worried that Joan or Billy might return and wonder why I was up there.I closed the lid of the chest and checked to make sure that the hangingclothing appeared to be undisturbed. It was only then that I noticed allof the shoes that had been arranged along the wall beyond the chest.There were several dozen pairs.I returned to my room and went over the details of the day's discovery. Iwas painfully erect by then. My old cross-dressing interest wascompletely revived. Unable to stop myself, I lowered my jeans and shortsand relieved myself of the pressure. I did so while picturing myself inthe red gown. I felt ashamed afterward. I didn't consider myself atransvestite. I hadn't dressed in five or six years. It was a tendencythat I had consciously fought to suppress. Now it was back, stronger thanever.The first trip to the attic was the only one for quite some time..
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