"Shit!" I heard Sandra say from the kitchen."What?" I asked.Sandra came walking back into the living room dabbing a napkin at her blouse, which was cl...arly forming a wine stain."I opened the bottle too quickly and spilled wine all over my blouse. Do you have one here I could change into?" Sure," I said."You should get some bottoms too, because I think I also got some on my jeans." No problem!"As Sandra started stripping down to her white lacy bra and panties, I couldn't believe my luck. Here I. Instead, I wanted to be a fashion designer. They make good money. Theyprovide an indispensable service to society. Most are self-employed andtake vacations when they want. Flexible hours. Lots of business write-offsfor tax purposes. Not a bad life. And all the beautiful clothing theydesigned and wore!They stared at me.Then I told them more; I was a crossdresser. I was of slim build;"delicate", a real man would say. I had naturally gravitated towardfashion design. I loved looking at the glamour. More

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