My First Skirt

CHAPTER 1 (Alex)

There was a derelict factory on the outskirts of the city, and I decided to go and take some photographs. My wife Sadie said it was a good idea to pick up my hobby again, though I actually had an ulterior motive. I packed my shoulder bag with a couple of cameras and spare battery, and put my phone in as well, as I wasn't wearing a jacket, just a t-shirt and jeans. I had my boots in the car for tramping around. As we live on the ring road it didn't take long and I went down a lane with only a couple of houses and a farm to get to what was marked Private Road and a sign warned of an unsafe building, but there was no fence, so I carried on to a parking area, and looked around.

The building itself had metal shutters over all the doors and windows, but was looking photographically interesting, with plants growing out of gutters and cracks. But best of all I was alone. There were no buildings nearby which overlooked me, and the lane was a dead end, but I was still careful.

Sitting in the car, I took off my shoes and got my skirt out of the bag. Then took off my jeans, pulled on the skirt and put on my boots, and stood outside. Not secretly at home, but outside, walking in the sunshine!

I just walked up and down, then got my bag and camera and started taking a few snaps. I moved back off the tarmac to where weeds were growing and climbed a little hump to get a better view. Out in the open, feeling the air on my legs and the skirt as I moved.

Like a girl.

Over the hump was a grassy area bounded by trees. I was alone, in summer in a meadow. There was a profusion of buttercups and some purple flowers and blue ones which I didn't know the name of, and I felt them against my legs as I strolled through. For that little time I was just a girl in a meadow, enjoying the nature, my photography forgotten.

I was so calm and happy. I had to be careful, seeing some reeds (which could be soft ground) and a large clump of nettles, and the occasional thistle but this was just the simple pleasure of being out as I wanted to be. In a while I took some photos of the plants and bees going into them, then noticed the building again was making an interesting picture with buttercups in the foreground and trees framing on the right. I was thinking as a photographer again, but still happy with myself.

Then I started to feel I needed to pee, so found a place in the shadow of a clump of trees, put down my bag, squatted and peed like a girl! It was surprisingly hard on the thighs, but it was so delicious!

I walked as far as I could around the factory, with the little fear and excitement of being further from the car. There was a cottage with its roof missing, then a fence with a stile went across the lane, so I went back to the car.

As I approached it, there was a man and woman coming the other way, regular walkers by the way they were dressed. What should I do?

I knew.

Just act natural.

"Morning," I said, "nice day."

"Morning," said the woman.

"We should get a bit of rain later," said the man, and they continued on.

When I got to the car, I got in, and sat there a while, just astounded.

I had been out as a girl and even been seen! And talked to people!

Still in my skirt, I drove slowly down the lane. It was a single track with passing places, and I stopped in one to let a Land Rover go by to turn into the farm, until I came to houses. There was no-one about. So I parked the car and got out, and walked as far as a postbox.

Actually on the street in a skirt! If anyone saw me it was very unlikely that they would know me, but still...

I got back to the car, turned round, went to the secret place and changed into jeans.

It was not much more than an hour I had spent out in a skirt, but it had been a beautiful experience. What a shame I couldn't share it with my wife.

It is hard to express the simple contentment of that little expedition. How much I wanted to be a woman! Not for sex. Just to go out in a skirt or dress and enjoy the world.

I already sat down to pee as often as I could. Oh, to squat down outside with my skirt up and panties down again!

I had managed to buy a skirt and keep it hidden, to wear sometimes when my wife was out, along with a pair of her knickers from the wash (and back in the basket before she returned). Sometimes I held one of her dresses up against me to look in the mirror, but they wouldn't fit, so it was just a dream.

A few weeks later I went back to the factory again, with my skirt in my bag. I had worked out some different photographs to take, in order to justify the visit, but I was dismayed to see a sign at the beginning of the lane warning of 'Works Traffic'.

My fears were confirmed when I saw the fencing and a sign saying that a new housing estate was going to be built. The Tranford Estate.

Through the fence I saw a bulldozer on the meadow, and a demolition crane by the factory. I took a couple of snaps to show the devastation, and went home.

I tried not to show it, but I was really despondent. Sadie couldn't understand. I told her there was pressure at work, but it was really the dashed hope of occasionally being out alone as a girl in a field.

I never wore the skirt again, and got rid of it soon after.

It was almost adding insult to injury when the site was abandoned due to the financial crash. The old buildings were gone, and the meadow was part of a road system. With the trees cut down you could see the nearby pub, boarded up. The local authority put up hopeful signs about a prime site for developers.

We settled down to normal married life - nothing special, OK like millions of others.

Just occasionally I would lie in bed in the darkness thinking about that special hour in paradise.

CHAPTER 2 (Frank)

"Was that a man or a woman?" I said, once the stranger was out of earshot. We had been on one of our regular walks in the country, past the old factory when someone in a skirt coming the other way had greeted us.

"A man," my wife Gillian answered without hesitation.

"You can tell by the walk even before he got close."

"But he was wearing a skirt!" I said, my surprise mixed with a little excitement. If only that was me!

"So what?" she said as we walked on.

"It's a free country. Why shouldn't men wear skirts? Or dresses if they want to? There's supposed to be sexual equality."

We continued in silence.

"But, a man in a skirt. I mean, what would you think if I wore one, for example?"

"I wouldn't mind. You can if you like," she answered, calmly.

"My grandpa did."

As I tried to process this revelation, we came to a fork in the footpath, and she asked.

"Shall we go down the hill towards the reservoir, or go left over the bridge?"

"Er, the bridge," I said my mind only half on the situation.

I don't know why, but I really wanted to go out in a skirt. I wasn't unhappy with my marriage or my sex, it just seemed to be something that would be nice.

Of course, I had never dared say it.

But that meeting with the stranger got me thinking. How much I admired him to be so bold! He wasn't wearing makeup, just a T-shirt, a neat miniskirt and a handbag.

That evening, I was curious.

"Was it true, about your grandpa?"

"Yes, of course. He was a Scot. My mother's maiden name was McTavish. He was in the Highland regiments who fought in a kilt. Although I saw a photo with him in a khaki skirt in the desert."

I realised that was why she didn't call him grandad, who was her father's father, and who I'd met.

"So that's why you think it's OK for men to wear skirts?"

I drew a breath.

"I wish I could wear a skirt sometimes. Just at home, of course, to see what it's like."

She just looked at me.

"Pardon?"

I could feel my face going red.

My face glowing, I explained I didn't want to change sex, or anything about our marriage. I just wondered what it was like to wear a skirt, like the man we had seen.

"Well," she said, finally, "I suppose we'd better try it out."

That night in bed, I asked "Are you serious, you know, about...?"

"Leave it with me," she said.

I didn't ask, and she didn't say anything after that.

Next weekend we set out on our walk early.

"I thought we could go to the factory and hang around to see if your friend in a skirt is about. Maybe we can have a chat. I'd like to meet his wife if he has one."

Off we set, but when we got there, it was fenced off, and there was a sign saying it had been acquired for a housing development. We followed a public footpath around it, which was quite a lot longer, and saw a couple of people, but not the man in the skirt.

In fact we didn't see him again in the years that followed.

But I got a skirt!

Just a few days later she presented it to me.

"It's not a kilt, it's a plaid skirt, which is a lot cheaper and a classic one for women. Plaid means it's like a tartan, but not special to a particular family. Try it around the house for a while."

"Oh, and as it's not a kilt, wear underpants."

Even now, I can't explain it.

I didn't feel exhilarated, feminine or sexy.

It just felt so right. That was exactly what I had wanted. It was a sensation of comfort and relief.

I wore it around the house whenever I could, getting into the habit of reaching to flip it forward when I sat down, and raising the back to sit on the toilet (which I now did, even to pee.)

This was my first skirt.

My second was a plain black mini, but not pleated like the plaid one. I liked that a lot.

I was so grateful to that unknown man who had been so bold.

And doubly grateful to my wonderful wife who understood what this simple garment meant to me.

Then at Christmas, things started to go a bit wrong.

She had bought me a floral dress. I didn't want it, but couldn't really say so. She insisted on putting some makeup on me. There were a couple of nightdresses as well.

For my birthday there was another dress, panties and a bra. Again, I had to dress up and be grateful.

It was the same every Christmas and birthday, till I got a fair wardrobe, though it was her interest not mine. I was actually very happy to come home and change into a skirt. A simple jersey dress was quite comfortable for lounging around, but I really didn't want the floral or lacy things but wore them occasionally, though I drew the line at showing her friends (and wondered if any had been told). Panties were more comfortable than I expected, so I wore them most of the time. I only wore a bra when I was told to, and definitely didn't want makeup.

She had a hard time with the menopause, and was a bit touchy, so I didn't know how to refuse to wear things. Sex had stopped for the same reason. We still went for walks, but not so much, but I couldn't wear a skirt when we did, though I would have liked to.

CHAPTER 3 (Alex)

It was several years later and my hour as a girl was just an occasional comforting memory. The estate on the factory site had been abandoned because of the financial crash. I actually went once to look through the fence to see the roads laid out and some abandoned beginnings of buildings. It was very sad.

Sadie saw I was down, and said it had looked like a nice estate. We had the brochure, and had talked about moving there for our retirement.

Things went on. I concentrated on work and on photography and even won a few prizes at the local club. Mainly urban decay, or rebuilding. It was while Sadie and I were out combining shopping with a bit of scouting for photo opportunities in the city centre that I spotted a couple hurrying towards us, and tried to get her to move on, but it was no good. They were the walkers I had spoken to at the factory, those years ago.

"It's you!" said the woman, "you were at the factory wearing a skirt!"

"We just wanted to tell you how grateful we are," she added.

"Could we buy you a coffee?"

"I think there's been some mistake," I said, blushing.

"I don't think we've met."

"I never forget a face," she insisted.

"We talked about the weather. I think you were taking photos. The derelict factory on the outskirts. They demolished it a week or two later."

"I'd love a coffee," interrupted Sadie as I started to speak, and ushered me into the coffee shop.

"I'm Sadie, he's Alex," she added.

"Gillian and Frank," came the reply as we moved to a quiet table near the back of the shop. Frank and I hardly spoke, as our wives ordered for us, then conversed like two mothers with small boys.

"We just want to say how much we admire Alex. You don't often see a man out wearing a skirt. But seeing him out by the factory has changed our marriage. For the better, that is."

"I was..." I began, but didn't know what to say, so just blushed, and she carried on.

"I mean, there's no reason a man shouldn't. My mother was Scottish, and I saw relatives in a kilt. Only I didn't know Frank fancied wearing a skirt until we saw your husband. It's great to see a man with the confidence to do what he wants."

"Oh, yes, that's Alex, all right," Sadie agreed.

"Bold as brass. And your Frank, he wears a skirt now?"

"Yes," came the answer with an enthusiastic nod.

"And dresses. He just finds them so comfortable about the house. I've been trying to encourage him to wear one when we go out walking. I thought maybe we could have dinner together, and get to know each other. All in skirts, of course!"

We all laughed politely. Then I had a brainwave.

"Darling, we've only got ten minutes on the parking," I said, looking at my watch.

Sadie quickly wrote down her phone number on a napkin, and we excused ourselves.

When we got to the car park we had nearly an hour left, which I knew, of course.

"I'll drive," she said through pursed lips, "and we'll talk about this at home, not while driving."

We dealt with the shopping without a word other than about where to put things, and went into the living room, and I waited for the storm to begin.

"Well, this is interesting," she said.

"That day, years ago, when you took photographs of the factory and you were so happy. Then so disappointed when you went back again. I thought there was something up. Did you really wear a skirt?"

It was no good. I had managed not telling her, but I couldn't lie to her.

"Yes, darling," I said, hanging my head in shame.

She just looked at me for a while.

"And they walked by, and you said hello?"

"I said nice weather, and they said it might rain later. They were walkers, and when you're out in the country, people tend to greet each other."

"Did you often wear a skirt when out photographing?"

"No, just that once, and I got rid of it afterwards. I'm sorry."

Her eyes began to fill with tears, and there was a catch in her voice as she continued.

"I noticed you'd been messing with my underwear, and wondered if it was the male menopause. I was going to say something, but then it stopped."

We neither of us said anything for a while. Then she had to blow her nose, and I did too.

"I'm guessing you didn't do it to feel manly. How did you feel?"

With a lump in my throat, I told her the truth. The joy of pretending for a little while that I was a girl in a meadow, feeling the air on my legs, but so different from shorts. The satisfaction of squatting down to pee, but it was hard on the thighs. I wasn't gay, and I couldn't explain it. I had just had this feeling of wanting to wear a dress or skirt and pretty underwear.

She cried for a bit, then kissed me.

"What upsets me most is that you didn't tell me. The fact that you've been keeping a secret for years. I thought you loved me too much for that."

Suddenly she stood up.

"I'll get on with the dinner, and we'll deal with this tomorrow."

So in a slightly strained way we had a normal evening, went to bed, kissed each other good night then both lay awake for a long time.

I had forgotten to set the alarm, so we were both late for work the next day. I was a bit distracted, as people noticed, but wouldn't tell them why.

It was after dinner we dealt with the issue.

"Well," she said, "as that woman Gillian said, there's no reason why men shouldn't wear skirts, so I suppose you could try it at home. And if you want to wear my knickers, I'll sort some out for you so you don't mess up my drawers."

"What sort of skirt did you have, and where did you get it?"

I told her.

"OK," she said, "a navy miniskirt, just above the knee. Sounds like an A-line. Pretty classic and quite subdued. A good choice with your T-shirt, really."

"Well, you must have been brave to do that, and to go out in it, I'll give you that. Let's take things one at a time. Just at home. We'll get you a replacement, for a start."

At the weekend we went out shopping, and bought a similar skirt. Not exactly the same, but close enough.

"We won't pretend it's the same one, just a style you like," she said, which made me start.

"Pretend to who?"

"Gillian and Frank, of course, when we go to dinner on Tuesday. I'm going to be proud of my confident husband. You'll wear one of your shirts with it, but we'll get you a more feminine top just at home. Go in trousers, of course, but change when we get there."

"I can't!" I said, a bit too loudly, and a couple of people glanced over.

"You did before," she said quietly, and we moved on.

True to her word, we got a V-neck blouse with three-quarter length sleeves.

But I worried about the dinner.

CHAPTER 4 (Frank)

By coincidence we actually met the man we had seen by the derelict factory. His name was Alec, along with his wife, Sandy. It was only a brief meeting, but our wives had exchanged telephone numbers and arranged everything.

A couple of weeks later, Gillian announced that they were coming to dinner, and I was to be my feminine best. I don't think I've ever been so stressed in all my life.

CHAPTER 5 (Alex)

The dinner was a nightmare.

I was supposed to be the confident one, yet Frank looked much more comfortable in a pretty dress with a bra underneath. Quite feminine, and I wished that I could have had something similar. He even had a wig and makeup! Maybe it was the male menopause, but since that time at the factory, I had been more and more attracted to the idea of dressing like a woman. Sex had pretty well petered out, but we were both fine.

It had been a shock for Sadie, but she'd done well and been very kind with actually buying me skirts and a blouse. One small step for a man, a giant leap for a wife. Maybe one day I could dress like Frank.

He got our names wrong, but laughed it off, and was cool and casual for the rest of the evening. I was a bit tongue-tied, but he kindly didn't push the conversation. I just felt like a fraud.

Worst of all, Sadie said I'd be glad to help Frank get out in a skirt, as I was experienced. I was terrified at the thought.

Anyway, we were supposed to host them for dinner. I supposed I could manage that.

CHAPTER 6 (Frank)

They say be careful what you wish for. What had I wished for? I just wanted to go out in a skirt - I don't know why. You will occasionally see in the news some fashion designer with clothes for men with skirts, but it never really takes off. And by a skirt I include a dress, which is just a skirt and top together, providing they're in plain fabrics. I liked the freedom compared with shorts.

However, Gillian had got the bit between her teeth, and was trying to build it up into something more.

For the dinner she didn't consult me, but went out and bought stuff for me. I wasn't at all keen, but I was in a floral dress (and wearing a bra underneath, because it needed the shape). She'd given me the choice of shaving my legs or wearing nylon tights, so I was in tights. To cap it all, she'd bought a wig, mascaraed my eyebrows, and put on lipstick!

I was so embarrassed at the dinner. Obviously, I felt a fool, but I'd also got their names wrong. They were actually Sadie and Alex. I regretted not being as strong as Alex, who was obviously the master there. I wouldn't say I'm henpecked, but it was hard for me to go against her.

Alex was cool as a cucumber in a smart shirt and business skirt. He hadn't shaved his legs but had some new loafers. A man in a skirt, but one who's not pretending to be a woman, which it seemed Gillian wanted for me.

Of course, we complimented each other. I said how smart he looked; he said I was pretty (which I definitely wasn't.)

CHAPTER 7 (Alex)

We continued to meet at each other's homes, and got to know them better.

I asked Sadie for a patterned dress, but she said I wasn't ready for one, by which I think she meant she wasn't ready. Obviously Frank had been exploring his feminine side with Gillian for several years, and had progressed to wearing a bra. Seeing him, I realised I wanted to try one, but wasn't sure if I should ask. I'm pretty sure Sadie was acting a bit brave about the situation, and was grateful she was so understanding. It was early days.

I was also grateful to Frank for insisting he wasn't ready to go out in public, since it saved me from having to take the lead, since Sadie had led them to believe I did so often.

However, it was Frank who came up with the idea which simultaneously attracted and terrified me.

Worst of all, it was entirely practical.

"Why don't we all go on holiday to Brighton?" he suggested.

He proposed we went off-season, when kids were still in school. We all had plenty of holidays left and no family commitments, so wasn't difficult to arrange.

"It's well-known that it's an LGBT- (and the rest) -accepting place. A man in a bikini or a tutu wouldn't cause a fuss. That's the one place I think I could make a start in going out. I've looked it up and there are loads of boutique hotels where you could go in as one gender and come out another."

"Me and Alex could go in the clothes we stand up in. No need to buy clothes in advance. We'll all go there with light suitcases and have a shopping spree. We can actually go into shops and try things on under the wise guidance of our loving wives."

"Who can also have a shopping spree," he added with a smile.

"And I thought we might go in for a bit of wife swapping," he said, with a grin, seeing our shocked faces.

"For shopping that is. I'd quite like to have Sadie's opinion on clothes for me, and I'm sure Gillian would have lots of good ideas for Frank."

There was no need for a vote - the two wives agreed.

CHAPTER 8 (Frank)

It took a while, but I thought I finally understood the dynamics of the group.

Alex really wanted to be feminine, and Sadie was trying but not happy with it. I'd casually asked him about their love-life, and he said they didn't do it anymore, and I'd said we were the same. But I got the feeling he was the one who was unable to perform, while it was Gillian who had been reluctant till I stopped trying. It was the menopause, of course.

I guessed that Gillian would love feminizing Alex, and maybe Sadie would go along with my modest desire to be a man in a skirt. I still don't understand it, and can't explain it to myself, but I just have it. I certainly didn't want any more pretty feminine things.

I don't know how I got the courage, but I suggested we go on holiday together. It was a long shot, but I thought I might be able to manage something. If it didn't work out, I would just have to stand up for myself at last.

I had vaguely heard things, but a bit of research showed me Brighton was the place.

Things worked out better than I hoped.

For one thing the weather was good - warm but not too hot, and just the occasional showers to keep the dust down. It was busy, but not crowded. And best of, all it lived up to its reputation of being friendly to all sorts. There were many extravagant sights on the street!

The hotel was great, just a small one, about three-quarters full of couples, including two men, two women and two indeterminate.

On the day of arrival, we went around as a foursome, to get the lie of the land. Next morning after breakfast, I went off with Sophie, while Gillian took Alex in hand.

Sophie understood exactly what I wanted and admitted she wasn't happy with Alex's feminization.

Somehow, with her beside me, it wasn't difficult to go into a shop, try on a skirt and display myself in the shop. The sales assistant said I looked good and wasn't the first, so I actually walked out onto the street.

That was it. The whole point of the holiday had been achieved.

She also had really good taste, and suggested combinations of male and female clothes to suit me, some of which we bought during the week, and some which I was to explore later.

I was mainly interested in restrained designs such as navy and denim, but she persuaded me to put on a red bouclé miniskirt which has become one of my favourites, and a longer light cotton one with a swirl pattern she described as beachwear. Towards the end of the week, she tried to persuade me that some female shoes with heels would look good. I tried some, but carried on with my tennis shoes.

Shopping didn't take up all that much time, so the week turned into something different. I was getting to know a very nice woman. I discovered that I had been right in my guess that it was Alex who had stopped having sex. I told her the truth that I thought she was a very attractive woman, and before the end of the week I fucked her for the first, but not the last time. She assured me that she had talked to Gillian first.

Meanwhile Alex rapidly transformed into what I suppose Gillian had wanted for me.

CHAPTER 9 (Alex)

I was a bit hesitant when Frank suggested we all have a fortnight's holiday together in Brighton so he and I could go out in skirts and dresses in public. Mainly because it sounded so great. Could I really go out dressed as a woman? Would Sadie let me have makeup as well, like Frank?

But so often when something sounds great, it turns out to be a disappointment. I could imagine it being a fiasco, and us all coming home early, just wasting what we had spent on the hotel. Was Brighton really as open as he said? Maybe when they had LGBT Pride events, but at other times?

Could I go into shops and try on women's clothes before buying them? That's what Frank suggested. Sadie had looked a bit doubtful. Was that because she didn't like the idea or because she correctly thought I was a wimp?

It would probably rain cats and dogs anyway.

But it didn't, at least it didn't rain the first day. And the hotel was nice - what they call a boutique one. The first day (only half a day after travel) we just looked around and got our bearings, then had a nice meal together.

The second day after breakfast, Gillian took me off. I was just in male clothes, despite the fact that I had two skirts and a blouse in my case, and was supposed to be the confident one. We couldn't seem to get started, so eventually ended up in a quiet corner of a café, and I told her what had really happened when I'd been seen by the old factory.

She said it was quite touching, my just wanting to be a girl. She had been a bit shocked at first when Frank said he wanted to wear a skirt, but she'd really got into the idea of feminizing him. Confidentially, she thought Sadie was quite distressed at the idea of her husband wanting to be a woman, but was trying to go as far as she could out of love.

The rest of the day we went shopping, but didn't buy anything. She wanted me to look at the possibilities, which were, frankly, amazing. Back at the hotel, Frank was wearing a new skirt, and had walked from the shop in it.

Both Sadie and Gillian said they had had a nice day of wife-swapping.

Next day Gillian took me to the shops and I bought a nice pink dress with white flowers. Actually white cloth printed with pink, and just the unprinted parts in the shape of flowers. Really feminine. I tried it on in the cubicle, but didn't wear it. We also bought two bras and several packets of knickers. Then to a beauty salon where she had booked a makeover.

I was pampered, shaved, and treated to an amazing treatment. My hair was washed and trimmed, I had a manicure and a pedicure and a spray of perfume. At the end of it I could hardly believe the change. My face was so feminine, I would feel silly in my man clothes. I was eager to change into my new dress and underwear, and delighted with the results. Nothing would have stopped me from going out on the street.

The only thing which was wrong was my shoes, and Gillian had a plan. We went to a nearby shop and bought a pair of cork wedge sandals. They were a little strange at first to walk in, but I loved the feeling.

There was no more shopping that day, just being out and about as a woman. I'm sure I wasn't perfect, but I was perfect for me, and apparently acceptable to the people around. After dinner, Sadie repaired my makeup enough for us to go out to a club where I danced with Frank (wearing a skirt). We were far from the oddest couple!

In the morning, Sadie spent a long time giving me a basic makeup - not as great a transformation as the beauty parlour, of course, but good enough. The dress was sweaty, so I went out with Gillian in a skirt and blouse, with my new sandals, and bought some new clothes.

By the end of the week my suitcase was full of lovely clothes.

And Sadie told me she had been unfaithful. With Frank, of course.

Thinking about it, I realised that in a sense I had been unfaithful to her. The man she had married and made love to her had changed into someone else. Although she had supported me, it was a change that made her rather sad.

On the other hand, Gillian no longer wanted sex, while Frank did, so it made sense. I was the one who suggested we actually swap wives (or rather husbands). The rooms were twin bedded, so Gillian and I did not have to share.

We mainly went around as a foursome. There was a little more shopping but it was just a holiday. We went to the pier, of course, and the Royal Pavilion, the electric railway, and went up the i360 tower, the aquarium, the museum and just going around.

On the train home, I was actually in a dress with makeup, and in my sandals. It was a bit of a rush when I got out of the taxi at home to get inside before anyone saw me.

CHAPTER 10 (Frank)

Two things had changed when we got home. Both had started in Brighton and were going to continue.

I was having an affair with Sadie, and I was going to wear a skirt when I wanted.

Gillian said if I really wanted, I could have sex with her - she was sorry I had missed it, but she didn't really feel like it for its own sake. Otherwise, I could continue to see Sadie, so long as we both knew. We both had tears in our eyes as I told her how much I loved her.

She also encouraged me and I went to work in a skirt for the first time, wearing my usual shoes. (The two women agreed I needed new shoes, and now I have several to suit different outfits. I don't really understand the distinction - it must be a woman thing - but I'm happy to go along with it.)

Nobody said anything, except for a couple of women who said I was looking smart today. It turned out to be as easy as that. Maybe the guys were a bit quiet at first, but it didn't take long until we were joking together like always. Actually, I got a few looks on the street, and once a wolf-whistle, but there wasn't any trouble. I didn't wear a skirt all the time, and not going out in the evening, but mostly did at home, and shopping. I just preferred it. In colder weather I wore black tights, as is the habit today.

Gillian and I still go walking, but less often. I wear a good tweed skirt with socks and boots. We noticed that building work had started again on the factory site, and eventually discovered that it had been started by some transgender people, who just wanted to be able to live as they wished. We got together with Alex and Sadie and were one of the first inhabitants. Seeing a man in a dress was nothing unusual (though some you really couldn't tell.)

It's quite remarkable. Gillian and I are still together, but I have regular sex with Sadie, who is an attractive woman, with the blessing of my wife and her husband! Gillian's loved helping Alex become more feminine. Alex is she now, everywhere.

I no longer have a pair of trousers. I still can't explain why I wanted that first skirt, but I'm very happy how it's turned out.

CHAPTER 11 (Alex)

Well, my dream came true. Sadie was supportive, but it was Gillian who helped me become more feminine in various small ways. It was an innocent femininity. I didn't want to leave Sadie, and I didn't want to go with men. I just enjoyed the clothes and makeup and felt happy with these two other women. I really liked learning to walk in proper heels.

I didn't dare go out locally or to work, but we sometimes took a trip out to a shopping centre in another city or the seaside.

Then Frank and Gillian told us something remarkable. The site of the old factory was being developed again with housing, what they called the Tranford estate. We went with them to see and found out it was being organised by some transgender people with their partners who just wanted to live quietly as husbands and wives.

With Frank and Gillian, we put down a large deposit on a four-bedroom house with two bathrooms. (The design was also available as two flats in the same shell, but that was what we wanted.)

It took a while, of course, but we sold our homes and were some of the first to move in to what became a very pleasant community. There was a pub with good food, a community centre for events and a local shop, and I was able to be fully feminine all the time there, along with some other people who had not started out as female, but were now actually wives. It's very sociable.

They're quite keen on ballroom dancing, and some older residents are happy to teach. I didn't know a step, but was glad to learn (backwards in high heels!) Frank's quite good, but there are several other men who partner me (including gay ones and some old guys who are excellent) and I really enjoy it. I take a lot of photographs now, because people ask me to, just for them. Couples, new dresses, parties and such. I take a few myself of nature or architecture again.

By the way, there are two women in Tranford who have a dressmaking business. They're particularly good at designs to fit and flatter women who have a male figure. They made me two lovely ballroom gowns. Frank wears a smart jacket and shirt, but a nice flowing skirt as well. No-one would mistake him for a woman because he's bald on top, but quite handsome really. They say it's a sign of high testosterone, which is perhaps why I kept my hair.

Eventually Frank persuaded me to start wearing a skirt at work, and it went OK. No makeup, just a man in a skirt, like him. We all have our own bedrooms, and Sadie and Frank are discreet about their lovemaking. Still, Gillian and I are happy for them, and we have a different but very cosy relationship, which does not interfere with our marriages. We holidayed in Brighton again.

After a few years I was put on hormones which really added such a lot to my life. I felt fully feminine, and wore makeup at work, with a proper hairstyle. I'm still Alex, but now it's short for Alexandra. To be honest, I think I never fooled anyone as being a man in a skirt, which Frank clearly is. (And I'm glad for Sadie.)

This year I had my male genitals removed. No vagina, because I have no interest in one. It gives a greater choice and comfort, now I don't have to worry about hiding my maleness. I've even grown some small breasts, so was happy to buy some new bras in a smaller size! (But for real!)

There is an area of preserved wild countryside where I often go to photograph and just to enjoy it. I love squatting down to pee outdoors, just as I did on that first day!

It's wonderful to think what has happened since I dared to put on my first skirt.

This is a prequel to Tranford Wives and Tranford tales