Wild times

Soon after meeting my companion, I joined Twitter (!) and followed her. Through her I began to chat and flirt with other girls, and so followed a few months of excess: a midlife crisis some might say.

Over the next nine months or so I met with several girls, all of who were wonderful: caring, gentle and genuinely lovely. Each experience was different, as I explored further the world of kink and cross-dressing. I was tied-up, pegged, spanked, licked bodies clean of chocolate mousse, swapped clothes with someone, had my clothes ripped from me, and even tried a golden shower.

One girl in particular really touched me, inspired me, and gave me back the confidence in myself to be myself. She introduced me (along with her trans friend) to the world of sex clubs: a particularly hot, sweaty and smelly experience in the basement of a Kings Cross pub (see my next post).

Back in my normal life, in May 2016, we were invited to a 40th birthday party with a 90s theme. My wife decided to go as the ghoul from Scream and I decided on a Baywatch theme: not having the body of a lifeguard, I decided to go as Pamela Anderson…

I duly let her sister do my make up. I walked into the party alone, to people I did not very well dressed in a red swimming costume, with fake boobs, a wig, full make up and nude tights: to say I was nervous is somewhat of an understatement. I drank. And drank some more. By the end of the party, I was dancing alone in the middle of a circle of other guests: I could not have been happier. My night was made when a guy dressed as Mask told me he could really fancy me…

Not Pamela Anderson

The next morning, my wife commented that I seemed to enjoy being dressed up a bit too much…

In June, I went to the Rocky Horror Show in costume (not for the first time, but the first since I had met my wife): she chose to go and stay with a friend rather than see me.


All in all I think her suspicions were raised, but the year ended with no particular repercussions.

And so another year began…

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