CARLA'S COMING OUT The garage sale was not scheduled for another four weeks when hopefully the weather would be warm and certainly conducive for a good turn-out of buyers; it was the middle of April and still a little cool, with storms likely to surprise an unwary but enthusiastic owner of saleable wares. But, I felt restless in the apartment and thought I would get a headstart on cleaning out the garage. I informed my Chery, my wife, and went outside. It was unusually warm on that Saturday afternoon. So warm, in fact, that after fifteen minutes of moving boxes in the garage, I decided I should put on some shorts, a garment I love to wear. In the house and out in two minutes wearing only white shorts and t-shirt and some tight, brown leather sandals. I'd bought them on our trip to California the previous summer. They were slightly small as Cheryl observed at the time but I loved the tightness though I never admitted that to Cheryl. I also think they were women's sandals misplaced to the men's table. I think Cheryl suspected so also but never mentioned anything. The sun felt great on my legs as I leisurely moved boxes to the front part of the garage. Suddenly I heard a male voice. "Hello!" I turned to see the new neighbor standing with his right hand extending upward holding onto the raised door. He was casually dressed with jeans, a sweatshirt and jogging shoes. He smiled and extended his right hand. "I'm Bill," he said. "Carl," I replied while meeting his handshake. "How long have you been standing there?" "Just a few seconds. I heard the movement of boxes from my apartment and realized how sunny and warm it was so here I am. Besides, I've been wanting to meet you and your wife. Geri, my wife, is jogging. Should be back soon." His method of expression with his words as well as hands I thought was quite lively. We talked for almost thirty minutes about virtually anything. We seemed to have alot in common except for our physical appearance. He was six-foot one with a slight paunch but with an enviable physique. Not bad for thirty-seven, he remarked. Myself, on the other hand, am five-six and no paunch. Finally, Bill in an answer to my contagious enthusiasm for cleaning, decided to open his garage to straighten the mess left from their move of two weeks before. I remember that night. It was snowing as I watched Bill and Geri unload their U-haul. I didn't envy them as I watched from the second floor bedroom window. Bill's garage was located next to mine and after he opened his garage door I realized the cause of his physique. In the exact middle of the garage was a set of weights and stairs--probably for Geri. I helped him straighten out some boxes and one box fell breaking at the corner and releasing clothes. We grabbed the clothes and began to replace them into the broken box when my eye caught a red polka-dot dress. I lifted it and remarked how pretty it was. Subconciously, I placed the dress against my body and looked down toward the hem. The hem came to almost two inches above my knee. For a moment, I was alone and my thoughts went back five years to my college days when I lived alone and to my teen years when I wore my teenage aunt's dresses in private. Then my mind snapped back to the present. I looked at Bill whose eyes seemed to convey an understanding and whose mouth reflected an appreciating smile. I apologized and pulled the garment from my body. I felt embarrassed. This was the first time anyone saw me even next to a dress in that manner. "No," Bill said, "you don't look half-bad, Carl. Put it on, let's see how you really look." Somewhat reluctantly I unzipped the dress and stepped into it. I laughed nervously hoping it would be an appropriate response to the moment. Bill still smiled and pointed out a dusty mirror next to the boxes. My reluctance melted into excitement and I felt my cock began to swell. My image in the mirror appeared one of some femininity as some masculinity prevailed. I, again, realized that I was exposing my most inner desires in front of a man whom I'd just met moments earlier. But, Bill seemed so willing and helpful. "Wait a minute," Bill said and grabbed a box marked "shoes, Geri." He handed me some white pumps. I grasped them firmly but soon realized the fit was about a size too small. Disappointed, I looked into the box when my eyes caught some black thin-strapped, high-heeled sandals and put them on. They were still a size too small but the last hole in the strap was adequate and I walked to the mirror, my senses excited by the sharp feminine cadence of high-heels on concrete. The image of femininity began to nudge my masculine part aside. Bill whistled. "Hey, you'd be great during Halloween, Carl." I responded with a brief fifteen-second description of one particular Halloween. Then I turned and admired my image in the mirror. "He'd be great at a lot of parties." I quickly turned to face the voice's source. The voice was feminine and it belonged to Geri, who was leaning against the side of the door opening. She had a smirk on her face as she eyed me from head to toe. "Nice legs. I'll need those heels for a meeting next week." She looked at Bill after her remark, turned and walked to their apartment. Bill shrugged. After we closed both garage doors we returned to our apartments. I saw Bill and Geri but only occasionally during the next two weeks and only outside our respective garages either on our way to work or on our return. Once Cheryl was with me and I introduced them. Her and Geri seemed to hit it off and we always parted remarking that we should get together. Geri, during our meetings, never seemed taken back by our initial encounter. In fact, she did wear the heels the following Thursday with a gray two-piece suit and silky black hose. I saw her from my bedroom window when she returned from work. Her calves were of a shape distinctive of a runner but the shape did not detract from the shapeliness of her legs in general. I actually almost envied her her legs and yearned to see mine in the mirror with the same heels she was wearing. I always yearned to shave them so as to see thier true shape encased in nylons and atop heels. On the third Saturday, Geri called Cheryl and invited us to join them for a barbecue. It was a great evening. We joked and discussed each of our of our marraiges and each of our lives before marraige. When our evening together ended Geri invited them to join us the following the weekend and then quickly withdrew the invitation when she recalled a prior commitment to her sister to help her pack for a move overseas to join a military husband. We promised each other to discuss a get-together two weeks hence. The following Tuesday Bill called. "Carl," he said with a slight whisper, "can you talk?" "Sure, Bill, what's up?" "No, I mean can you talk privately, without Cheryl around?" The mystery intrigued me. "Yeah, she's doing laundry in the next building." "Say, Geri told me last night that she has to go on a quick overnight business trip this Saturday." On a Saturday? I thought. Then I recalled her profession with a modeling agency took her on occasional weekend promotions. "Really?" After a pause I continued, "And?" "And let's . . let's have some fun." A Saturday night with the guys. Hadn't done that in a long time. "Okay, Bill, sounds good. What do we do?" Bill didn't respond immediately. "Wait, Carl, let me start from the beginning. When Geri told me about her trip last night I spent the day thinking about it. At first I thought about you and I getting together for a couple of beers at the Tenpin and then my secretary gave me an idea. Now listen to me carefully and thoroughly before you respond, okay?" "I'm listening." "Let's really have some fun. Remember a couple of weeks ago when you put Geri's dress and shoes on?" "Yeah, I remember." How could I forget? I kept a vivid memory which I tapped each day since. "Oops, sorry I made you respond. Anyway, how would you like to dress up like that only completely? You know, like with a wig, make-up, jewelry and all that stuff." I loved the idea and my thoughts quickened with excited anticipation. "Well, okay, Bill. Just wonder if I'll pass though. Maybe I'll be recognized as a man." "No way, not from the way you looked the other day." Just what I needed to hear. I often wondered if I could pass and at thirty years of age I'll find out. "Appreciate the compliment. What do we do or should we maybe wait till we get together?" "Well I thought we would maybe dine and dance or something like that. This town is full of stuff to do. But, first let's get together as Bill and Carla then we'll decide." We decided that Bill would pick me up at my apartment about seven o'clock. I mentally calculated two hours preparation. He asked if I wanted Geri's dress and shoes. Initially I thought about my wish when I saw Geri in the heels then decided I would buy my own stuff. I didn't know if I had the guts to shop on my own but knew I had to get up the courage or only dream about going out. I spent the rest of the week counting the hours till 7 PM Saturday. Bill only smiled the one time I met him going to work. Cheryl and I made love each night until she left on Friday morning and during each of our lovemaking encounters I fantasized about the planned excursion. Cheryl remarked appreciatively about my lovemaking intensity. On Friday afternoon I shopped. At first, I hesitated but after I bought the dress my confidence bloomed and I had no trouble with the rest of my wardrobe. I almost went through a second round, such was my confidence and excitement. Cheryl had an enormous amount of make-up so the only make-up I bought was concealer which Cheryl's make-up books mentioned was good for blemishes. I figured my shadow--though I expected to shave closely--would easily be covered with the concealer. At thirty, I still only shaved every other day. Saturday afternoon finally arrived. I told Bill over the phone previous evening not to see me until seven. I almost felt like a bride. At five o'clock I carefully placed most of my wardrobe on the bed. I had bought a black long-sleeved dress with small white polka dots. I placed that in the closet still in its plastic cover fresh from the cleaners. On the bed I placed the white clip-on earrings, white scarf, black sheer silky stockings (the expensive kind, I went all out), and some black-patent high-heeled pumps with four-inch heels. The size was right, I was certain of that. At the store the saleslady I'm sure suspected my true motive for purchasing them--I said they were for Cheryl--since she handed me a box and suggested I go into the little room and decide if they were right. I was baffled when I went into the room until I opened the box and saw some worn short nylons obviously placed there by the saleslady. My hands shook as I tried on the heels and they fit perfectly. After admiring my purchases, I ran my the shower. In the shower I ran the hot water over my face to soften my beard and when satisfied I shaved carefully so as not to cut myself. I finished with complete success. Then came a task I yearned, shaving my legs. I plugged the tub and let hot water from the shower fill it up and shut off the shower sitting down to start. I used two razors for each leg. I started gliding the razor from my ankles up my shins and around to my calves. Then I used a new razor for my thighs from knee to crotch. I repeated the cycle with the other leg. As I lifted the razor through each shave I saw white soft skin follow the head. When I finished I caressed my legs feeling lusciously smooth softness. I dried myself completely and admired myself in the full-length bedroom mirror from the waist down. My legs appeared smooth and slightly tanned from two days of shorts. I decided to put on the make-up first so I could enjoy the delicious moments of dressing as a deserving reward to myself. Applying make-up was easier than I thought. My main problem was with my eyes. The eye-liner was tricky and I had to experiment with shadow until I got the blue shades to my liking. I explicitly followed each step listed in Cheryl's book. When I placed one of Cheryl's short black wigs on my head I was quite surprised at how feminine and pretty I looked. My mouth almost agape, I stared into the dresser mirror for a couple of minutes. Now, the final delicious chore. When I sat on the bed I heard the doorbell. Bill's early, I thought. Then I realized by the clock on the bathroom wall that Bill was on time. It was already seven. "Come in, Bill." I yelled from the bedroom. When he walked in to the living room I informed him I wasn't dressed yet. "Just like a woman," he said. I giggled with such a girlish giggle I was sure stemmed from my feeling of femininity. Sitting back on the bed, I grabbed a garter belt from the dresser drawer and hooked it on my waist. Then I carefully rolled each stocking and gingerly unrolled the stocking up each leg hooking each to the belt. Then I decided to put on a girdle especially to hide my maleness and restrict its erection. It had erect at varying degrees of hardness since the bath. So I repeated the procedure with the stockings only this time hooking them to the girdle and stuffed tissue into the top part of the girdle to emphasize breasts. I didn't dare admire my stockinged legs until I finished and when I stepped into the heels I looked at the mirror. I was beautiful. My figure was slightly fuller than I wanted but I was without a doubt very feminine. I turned and admired my legs which in my biased view were more shapely and feminine than Geri's. I knew they were prettier than Cheryl's. She always wore long dresses or pants. Now came a test. I walked around the bedroom to get used to the heels and especially to develop a feminine sway and hold my arms and head properly. I then walked into the living room to parade in front of Bill. "Wow, Carl. . uh. .I mean Carla. You look super. Just super." He stood and walked around looking at me thoroughly. "I wouldn't recognize you anywhere and I really mean that." No better compliment could be given. In a sense my feminine self felt good with such a compliment from my man. I felt even more feminine when he held my waist as we walked to his garage. We were careful not to encounter any neighbors. Successful, off we were. On our way I realized an error. My hands. They seemed very out of place without nail polish and actually were too large for such a feminine looking body. So my first real test came when we stopped at a clothing store to buy black gloves. Ironically, it was the store where I bought the dress. We both walked in selected some gloves and paid for them. I caught a couple of men and women casting a glance my way. Beyond that the detour was uneventful. I felt exquisite. I passed with flying colors and felt very much like a woman. Finally, feeling like a woman. Bill especially admired the complimentary way the scarf and earrings went with the outfit. Dinner was excellent. The food was good and the scene of the lake very romantic. When the waiter inquired "what does the lady wish?" or "Is the lady comfortable?" I felt warm and good. I held my head so femininely it seemed a natural stance to my look. The feeling of my nyloned legs as I crossed them was incomparable. I made special effort to swing my legs seductively as I turned on my chair each time Bill and I got up to dance. I got excited each time the men looked at me. I got more excited when the women would look and reflect their evil thoughts as they looked at my eyes. They always smiled but I knew that was a facade. The restroom visits at first were trying but I simply worked around the girdle. Finally it was one o'clock. I never knew six hours could pass so quickly. I hated to leave the nightclub. Dancing next to Bill felt heavenly with his arm firmly but gently caressing my waist and with my arm holding on to his well-developed shoulders. During a couple of slow dances he held me tighter and placed his cheek next to mine. I put my chin on his shoulder and closed my eyes and lavished in the womanly luxury. Bill drove slowly on our way home. I just looked out at the glimmering stars and mentally replayed each delicious moment of the previous six hours. I recalled the preparation, the first trek outside the apartment, purchasing the gloves, and the looks of all the men and women; some indifferent, some curious and others seemingly knowing but unconcerned. Those were probably the most acceptable and appreciative looks. No judgments, no comments and certainly no unnecessary, erroneous preconceptions. When Bill parked the car and closed the garage door, we walked slowly to the apartment. Upon arriving at my door, I placed my arms around Bill's neck and gave an appreciative hug. "Thanks, Bill, thanks so much." I said softly. "You're welcome, Carla, er, Carl, whomever." We both laughed. "But, you really are pretty, Carla." "Thank you, kind sir." I said and gave him a quick kiss to which he simply smiled and turned to walk toward his own apartment. I opened the door and walked in still feeling high and when I closed the door I leaned back against it relishing the feel of the dress and reliving the feel of the cool air on my legs when we left the restaurant. The girdle was the most annoying part of the wardrobe and began to remind me of the woman's sacrifice when using it, the tight pinching. I knew it was then time to get it off. So, off to the bedroom. As I approached the bedroom I realized I had forgotten to turn off the light. The half closed door made it seem like a beacon piercing the dark living room. When I opened the door I froze. On the bed was Cheryl reading a book by the table lamp and beside her was her slumbering sister. When Cheryl looked up at me her immediate reaction was to scream. Her mouth opened to release the high pitched shrill and while the first note remained unleashed in her throat she stopped. "Who, who are you?" She looked at me quizzically. Obviously, she saw a woman and soon she recognized the features. "Carl? Carl? That isn't you?" Her eyes widened. TO BE CONTINUED