As a serious introvert and a 22-year-old almost virgin, I was cross-dressing more and more. Still studying women and their every nuance. (Yes, I always checked out your shopping cart for period products and contraceptives. And I still do it today 40 years later.) Saturday was fun-day for me, a day without work or interruption whatsoever. No unexpected friends to come by, etc. So, when the alarm rang, I allowed myself to be as feminine as I wanted to be. The last week at work was hell, but I made it, so I wanted the most feminine day I could think of. I dressed in panties and decided on a tight-fitting underwire bra. The wires would poke into me, reminding me at every move that I was wearing it. A large accumulation of dishes was left to be done as I had worked so much overtime. So, it became a day dedicated to doing housework, a feminine job in my parent’s home in the 60’s anyway. I put on my tightest jeans and a heavy sweater as it was a chilly winter day here in Texas.
After my coffee and breakfast, I slipped into yellow Playtex gloves and did the dishes. That sure did get the bra working a bit, so I went for it and added the cotton falsies that I had found in the Goodwill store. (The braver I got at buying feminine items the bolder I had become, it seemed many years since buying that first slip at the TG&Y store.)
So now I was jutting out with a B cup. I turned to admire the profile and smiled. Cupping them was fun as well.
I spent the rest of the morning dusting and vacuuming, cleaning the bathroom, etc. I stripped the sheets and discovered the laundry needed doing as well. The hamper in the closet was full of my greasy work clothes as well as a separate one for my girly clothes.
As I remade the bed with fresh linen, I decided to dare myself to do something bolder. To go to the laundromat dressed as I was. That thought was something new, as I had never left the apartment in any way feminine other than panties and even that was a rare occurrence. The thought won out. I put on a heavy coat and zipped it up. I did not see that the bra was showing, so off I went. I was wearing a bra in public. Feeling the straps over my shoulders was thrilling and I knew I was leaking into my panties.
The laundromat was busy and after starting two machines I sat on one of the benches to wait.
I was leafing through some stupid Field and Stream magazine when this drop-dead beautiful, tall girl with painted-on jeans and long blond hair sat on the bench opposite me. Her white skintight sweater displayed her ample breasts, and I could make out her bra lines. Oh, to be that beautiful.
She then did something I had rarely seen; she crossed her legs. She was not crossing them one over the other or locking her ankles. She folded both legs up and was sort of sitting on them. My mind screamed. ‘I bet her labia had to be wide open.’ What the hell? I was ready to bust a nut just looking. She went on reading her Cosmopolitan and never even looked in my direction, like I was invisible.
The longer I looked, the hotter I got, so I had to get relief. I got up and went to the tiny men’s room. As luck would have it someone left the door to the woman’s room open to tempt me. The Tampax tampon machine was spotted. ‘10 Cents’ as well as the metal box on the wall for the used things. I hung out as long as I could, then went in and gave myself a few hard jerks and dropped a load in the commode. My panties were indeed a mess.
As I returned to the bench, I spotted her at one of the folding tables hanging and folding her clothes. No male clothes. “Oh my,” I said out loud. Every now and then she came across an item that needed more time to dry and returned it to a dryer that was still running.
There was a rainbow of different colored panties and bras on the table. ‘Oh, heart be still.’
My machines were done, and I went to get the clothes into the dryer and selected the one next to hers. She gathered a bunch of hanging skirts and blouses and walked to the door to put them in her car.
I put my hand on the pile of her warm panties for a second or two.
After she left, I got the Cosmopolitan magazine. It was open to an ad “Playtex Tampons with the new plastic applicator”. I read the ad. Rounded plastic tip… I also discovered many ads for feminine items, so I put the magazine in the bottom of my basket.
Now I had played with sis’s tampons and mom’s napkins a bit but, after exporting them a few times they no longer excited me. Nothing but cotton and cardboard to play with.
Was I brave enough? I passed a TG&Y store on the way home. I was. And I had to decide on scented or unscented. I chose scented and a few other things to decoy the real purchase. Bath oil, hair spray, trash bags, A hammer and a latex swim cap.
I investigated the new tampons and thought of all the things I could do with them but decided to put that off for another night. They did have a nice scent.
That night before retiring I used the bath oil, slipped into a long Vanity Fair nightie and slept soundly after a quick relief jerk for the day's tension.
Since that night I have never hesitated to buy anything feminine except outer clothing, but that would ultimately change a few years later as well.