My first recollection of a sexual act, although at the time it appeared quite harmless, took place when I was about four or five years old.  It was winter I believe.  My mother and her sister were in the lounge standing in front of a roaring coal fire warming themselves. 

I lay on my back and wiggled myself into a position that allowed me to look up my mother’s dress.  How many minutes passed I do not recall.  I do remember that my aunt scowled me while my mother seemed to take the whole episode in her stride.If I close my eyes, I can still see her stockings being held up by suspenders attached to her corset.  And there is that wonderful bouquet which is a mixture of the natural aroma given off from a women’s vagina, the fragrance that comes from freshly washed under clothes and lastly that indescribable scent that seems to this day impregnate ladies lingerie.  This heady mixture coupled with her perfume somehow took me to heaven.Whether I repeated the action I number of times, I can not say. 

I do however know that it started me off on a romance with ladies clothes particularly lingerie.  In the past I would debate with myself that I am the way I am because my father for many years owned a shop selling ladies lingerie or as it was termed in the late fifties / early sixties foundation garments.  I have no doubt that had my father been a butcher, baker or candlestick maker my sexual outlook would have been the same.  That said, up to the age of 14 I certainly spent many hours in the shop helping my father and watched with fascination and delight as his lady customers select brasseries, corsets, suspender belts, girdles, panties, and all sorts of other similar ware.  This was in addition to stockings, blouses and jumpers that he also sold.  Maybe something from all this did enter my subconscious. 

My first taste of actually cross dressing came after we moved from a flat to a house.  (I have intentionally not mentioned locations.) I guess at the time of the move I was about 9 or 10 years old.  For the next few years whenever I was sick off school and alone in the house, I would try on my mother’s lingerie.  How often these sessions took place I can not recall.  However, two instances do stand out.  My mother had a number of one-piece body corsets where the bra and corset were one piece.  Suspenders attached to the bottom of the corset held up stockings.  I also recall trying on a girdle when there was a knock at the door.  I quickly pulled on my trousers, buttoned my top and went to answer the door.  It turned out to be a friend of my mother.  On closing the front door after her departure, I burst into tears thinking that the women must have X-ray eyes like Superman and was bound to tell my mother.I have a number of other sexual recollections from the years before my 13th birthday.

I had been taken to a wedding, I guess I was about seven or eight years old.  The bride bent of to kiss me and I viewed down her dress two beautiful breasts laying snuggled up in her bra.  Of course at the time, I did not know they were breasts as the schoolyard slang termed them tits.  My parents had a friend who I remember used to wear V-neck sweaters.  Her breasts seemed to stick out like to huge mountains.  Many times, she would bend over to kiss me and I would view the splendor of her valley.  Although again I was too young to appreciate it.

During one very hot summer, my mother took us to visit a friend of hers in North London.  While the mothers sat around talking, we kids started to play in the spray of the garden hose.  Eventually our clothes were so wet that took them off and continued to play totally naked.  Although I am sure that I had seen my little sister naked, this was the first time I recall understanding that boys and girls are different.  I believe that one of the mothers did object to our nakedness although I only recall something being done about it later then the girl squatted on the grass to pee.At the age of maybe, eight or nine during one of my mothers many illnesses and hospitalization, my sister and I were sent to some sort of boarding school on the South Coast. 

 I do not remember a great deal about the place other then I hated it and cried most nights.  However, it did advanced my sexual education.  There was a girl may 11 or 12 years old who would regularly take small groups of boys behind a shed and for a penny each show them her vagina and slightly swollen tits.  One wet winter Saturday afternoon I was with two friends at one of their homes.  I was I think about 10 or 11 years old.  Somehow, the conversation came around to the size of our willies.  Both boys wanted the three of us to measure themselves and see you had the biggest.  I stubbornly refused and when they started calling me a sissy ran home crying.I had joined the local scout troop.  Although I passed the official initiation into the troop successfully, I failed the unofficial test.  The latter test, which of course was not recognized by the troop, consisted of leaning dozens of words and phasing pertaining to the male and female body and the various sexual activities. 

For example I learned that tits were breasts or boobs, a vagina was a pussy, a penis became a cock, intercourse which I had just began to understand was fucking, shagging and so on.  While I learned all the appropriate words and phases I was far too shy to repeat them back.  Therefore, I failed.One Sunday, around this time, I recall visiting a friend.  His mother showed us a pair of shoes she had purchased for him.  My reaction to the shoes stopped the room dead.  I proclaimed out load that the shoes were sexy.  I do not recall the punishment I received.I recall being around 12, three or four friends were discussing what to wear for the forthcoming fancy dress party.  After a few minutes discussion one boy announced that his sister, who was about 14 or 15, would be happy to lend a number of her dresses and transform us into a copy of the popular girl singing groups. 

A couple of the boys I believe said OK if somewhat reluctantly.  My brain screamed YES, while my voice announced NO.  For weeks afterwards I felt that I had let myself down.My mother past away some months after my 13th birthday.  In the months that followed, I ran the house taking care of my father and younger sister.  This included all the cooking, shopping, cleaning, washing etc., which of course meant that my schoolwork slumped.My father realized that this was not a healthily situation and tired out a number of housekeepers who proved unsuccessful. 

Then through a family contact Danielle (not her real name), an Italian au–pair came into my life.  Danielle was I guess about 23 years old.  I do not know how long it took before I started to regularly dress in Danielle’s clothes particularly her underwear, skirts and jumpers.  Danielle spent many hours explaining to me about women’s bodies.  How their monthly period affected their bodies and mood swings, about the sensitive parts of a women’s body.  Danielle would on occasions let me watch her dress and apply make-up.  I was even allowed to touch her breasts.  Although she made it a point of never allowing me to view her vagina (her Catholic upbringing?). 

I also believe that I may have once or twice even crawled into her bed.  Sexually nothing happened.  I just cuddled her.My recollections of events during this period are hazy at best.  I do know that I played hooky from school just to stay at home and be with Danielle.  I also remember that one-day having helped her with some task, maybe it was housecleaning or her English homework, she offered to give me a treat.  Her idea was I believe to buy me an ice cream or cake.  Instead I either mumbled or blurted out that I wanted to try on her new black mini skirt.  I do not recall her exact words but her reply indicated to me that she was aware that I had been for some time dressing in her clothes.  I ran from the room crying and for days afterwards avoided her.