Crystal's StorySite


The Science of New Beginnings

by SandraB


You have probably heard the old expression, "You can't judge a book by its cover". I am a perfect example of that. I have lots of friends and lots of close family. But the truth is that none of them really know me. The see the cover of the book and they think they know what is on the inside, but they really don't. I'm afraid that if they really took the time to read the book, quite a number of them would be very disappointed.

On the outside, I have always been seen as the "nice boy", the "boy next door", or whatever other clichéd description you can come up with. I am mildly attractive, mildly athletic, and mildly successful with the girls. Basically, I am mildly lots of things and incredibly boring! But there is a reality inside of me that desperately wants to break out and show itself to the world, but is in intensely afraid.

What is it that I have hidden from the world? Ever since I can remember, I have wanted to be a beautiful girl. Even as a little boy, I knew it was wrong, but I longed to wear feminine clothes and have others admire me for my beauty. I have secretly worn my mother's clothes when she I was alone at home for many years. During my freshman year in college, I even found paid for a crossdresser makeover from someone I found in an alternative newspaper classified ad. I loved the feeling of wearing make-up, a wig, and learning female mannerisms. She took endless amounts of digital photos of me as I posed and gave me a CD Rom to remember my evening. It was probably the most fun I had ever had. I even got a part time job for the sole purpose of saving money for future makeovers. I thought I might even purchase some clothes of my own, maybe even a wig. But I was petrified of being discovered. My fears controlled me. I fell into deep depression.

Still battling depression, my sophomore year found me struggling to complete my core classes. I had always been a good student, not because I was very smart, but because I worked so hard at it. I had always planned my time well and never procrastinated when it came to papers, projects, or studying. Well that began to change. Each day became a battle as my depression got worse. My grades began to fall. One of my professors recommended that I meet with a tutor to help me with my biology class. I resisted but he insisted. He gave me a number and I promised to call the very next day. Of all the subjects, science was my least favorite and the one that I struggled with the most. Truthfully, I had no interest in biology and that certainly did not help my motivation. However, I knew I needed to get help if I was going to even pass the class.

I called the number and Trevor answered. Trevor was a graduate student who worked part time in the science lab and tutored on the side. He seemed nice enough and we agreed to meet once per week throughout the rest of the semester. At our first meeting, I was struck by how handsome he was and how very friendly he seemed to be (not exactly my stereotyped view of a science geek!). We talked through some of the areas that I just did not understand and Trevor assured me that he could help. We began meeting every Tuesday afternoon and for some reason I began to look forward to these meetings, not because of the science, but because of Trevor.

Honestly, I had always been confused about my sexual orientation. I did not consider myself to be gay nor did I think of myself as straight. Personally, I think most of us fit somewhere in between the two polar extremes, but I often wondered where on that continuum I actually belonged. For some reason, I think Trevor was helping me figure it out.

One Tuesday, I asked Trevor if I could see some of the things he was working on as a graduate student. He excitedly handed me a disk with a copy of a project he was working on. He said I could take it home and look over it and tell him what I think. Well, I did look it over, but it was well over my head! My respect for Trevor shot up another notch as I looked over the work he had done. I was really impressed with his abilities and his determination (even if I did not understand much of the project!).

Trevor and I had one more meeting before the end of the semester. He had helped me pull my grade up and helped me climb a little bit out of my depression. It always helps when you have something to which to look forward each week. But, now the semester was ending, and I would not need to meet with Trevor each week. I was hoping that we would still be able to see each other, but I was not holding out a lot of hope. He was so busy and my schedule was going to change a great deal as well. In our last meeting, we did little studying and a lot of shooting the breeze. He was so easy to talk to. I felt so very safe with him. When it was time for me to go, I gave him back the copy of his project and thanked him for all of his help. Trevor told me that he enjoyed spending time with me and getting to know me. He also said he was glad he could be of help to me. I was hoping he would say more, but he did not. We said goodbye and I walked my way back to my apartment.

I am fortunate that my parents decided to pay for me to have a single bedroom apartment all to myself. I had convinced them that it would help me with my grades because I would not be as tempted to party. Truthfully, I just wanted to be alone. That evening, I thought it was good that I lived alone. I was feeling down again, and I did not want to have to fake it for anyone.

About 9:00 that night, the phone rang. I answered and was surprised to hear Trevor's voice. He asked if he could drop by and bring me something and I said sure. I was so excited and could not imagine what he was bringing me. No matter what it was, I was excited that Trevor was coming by.

He knocked on the door about 20 minutes later. He had a strange look about himself, but I could not figure out what it was. He explained that he needed to give me something and he handed me a computer disk. "What is it?" I asked. Trevor said it was his project that I returned to him. Then he added, "Well, you thought it was my project that you were returning to me". I started to ask what it was, but before I could get the words out of my mouth, my heart began to sink. I turned pale and my knees became very weak. I knew very well, what it was….it was my pictures. I had inadvertently given him the picture of me at feminine finest. I did not even realize what was happening to me, but I began to cry. "Please don't tell anyone, please don't tell anyone", I repeated over and over. My body shook with fear. Trevor grabbed my elbow and led me over to the sofa. "It's okay", he said, "no one will ever know about these pictures except you and me". I could not even look at him in the eyes. I stared at the floor.

As I fell apart before him, Trevor reached over and gently patted my back. He then touched my chin and tilted my head up. He looked me right square in the face and said, "I actually like your pictures very much. I know it was a mistake and that you did not intend for me to see these. I can understand that. However, I want you to know that I am glad that I saw them. I think they are beautiful and I would like to see you dressed up sometime if that would be okay." My heart just pounded. I did not know what to say. Trevor came closer to me and just put his arms around me and hugged me. He told me to just think about it as he gave me an extra squeeze. Then he turned and walked out.

The next day, Trevor called again. He asked if I was okay. I told him that I was but that I was also very confused. He said that he understands and that he was a little confused himself. But he also stated there is some things that he does understand – that he likes me a lot and that he thought I looked beautiful in those pictures. He then asked me if I would go on a date with him and asked if I would go dressed as a female. I replied yes to him in a quivering voice.

I made an appointment to have a makeover in the city for the next Friday afternoon. Trevor agreed to meet me there. It was a private studio attached to house. The woman who ran this small business went by the name Cleo. She was so kind and helpful. She again made me feel right at home. She allowed me to take a bath before the makeover. I had always kept my body clean shaven and I took extra care that night to do a good job. I wanted to be at my feminine best tonight.

I told Cleo that I wanted to wear a "little black dress" this night for my big date. She said she had a new one that was just right one for me. I thought it was perfect and I was so excited to be able to wear it. It was a black swing style dress with a short skirt. It had long sleeves and lace around the skirt. I could not wait to try it on. But first things were first. Cleo gave me a pair of black panties and fitted me with breast forms. She helped me slip on the dress, but before she allowed me to look at myself in the full view mirror, she sat me down to do my make up. As she did, she began to teach me how to touch up my make up. She also encouraged me to practice at home to which I promised that I would. She then gave me the choice from several wigs. I chose layered style that went just past my shoulders and matched my own brown hair and eyes. Cleo still would not allow me to look in the full length mirror but then took over to her closet to help pick out shoes. I chose a pair of back pumps with a not too high of a heel. I thought they would go great with my dress, but also not add too much height to my 5'10" frame. I was glad that Trevor was several inches taller than me. Plus, I was pretty good at walking in heals, but I probably would have had some trouble with some of the super high heals. I was excited and ready to see check my look in the full length mirror.

I could hardly believe my eyes! Was that really me? I stared at myself and knew that if I could master the mannerisms and voice that I could pass as a young woman. I was as excited as I had ever been. I could not calm myself down as I looked at the clock. Trevor should arrive within the next ten minutes. I excused myself outside to Cleo's patio as I waited for Trevor. Cleo had given me a little black clutch in which to carry my essentials. I opened it up and pulled out my Virginia Slims cigarettes. I opened up the pack and placed a cigarette between my lips. I lit the cigarette and slowly inhaled the smoke. As then exhaled the smoke, I practiced holding it like a lady. I hoped Trevor would not mind if I smoked. I knew it was a terrible habit, but for some reason, I had always felt that a beautiful woman looked so sexy smoking, if she did it well enough. I only smoked when I wanted to feel feminine, and at that moment I was feeling as feminine as I ever had before. I was so caught up in the moment that I did not notice Trevor approaching from his car parked along the street. I quickly apologized for smoking but he reassured me that it was okay. He told me that I looked beautiful and asked me if I was ready to go. We went inside so I could introduce Cleo to Trevor. Trevor knew that I was borrowing the clothes so what he did next caught be completely by surprise. He asked Cleo if he could purchase everything for me – from the wig to the heels and everything in between. I did not know what to say, but they excused themselves into another room. Trevor came out and said that everything now belonged to me and that I was now on my way to collecting my very own wardrobe. As we were walking out, Trevor asked me what it is that I liked to be called. I had actually three or four names that I often called myself, but Trevor said that I looked like a "Sandra" to him and asked if he could call me that. I agreed and told him that I had always liked the name Sandra.

We both got in our cars and I followed Trevor back to his place. We dropped off my car and then Trevor took me out on our date. We went to an Italian restaurant and sat in a corner booth. The food was divine, but I was so nervous that I had a difficult time eating. Trevor just continued to look at me in amazement. He said he never would believe it was me if he did not see it with his own eyes. He also told me that I was beautiful, which I had always longed to be told. I was like putty in his hands.

After dinner, we went to a park with a gazebo. There was a jazz club across the street and you could hear the music clearly from the park. We sat on a bench and watched as a couple held each other and kissed in the gazebo. I asked Trevor if he minded if I had a cigarette. I pulled out my cigarettes and placed one between my lips. This time, Trevor took my lighter from my hands and ignited the flame and held it out before me like a perfect gentleman. As I leaned forward and took that initial drag off the cigarette, Trevor placed his other hand softly on my back. As I exhaled the smoke into the sky, I adjusted my dress and scooted myself just a little closer to Trevor. He began to caress my arms and my back. Then he motioned over toward the gazebo. It was now empty so we made our way toward it. I stubbed out my cigarette and held Trevor's hand as we walked into the gazebo. The music was still playing behind us and Trevor pulled my close to himself and began to lead in a slow dance to the rhythms. I placed my arms around his neck as we gazed into each other's eyes. Trevor again told me how beautiful I was. He said that those pictures he saw of me awakened feelings in him that he did not know were there. He leaned toward me and gently placed his lips onto mine. My legs almost buckled out from under me but Trevor's strong arms held me close to him. He continued to kiss me gently but passionately. Then our mouths opened slowly and our tongues began to explore each other. We danced and kissed and then danced and kissed some more. At that moment, I knew that this night was the night of a new beginning for me. It was also the night of a new beginning for Trevor.

To be continued…




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