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planet of the arts p 16 vol. seven, issue no. two

CROSS DRESSING

The house is exceptionally quiet for a Saturday. From the driveway a car pulls away. Three children move about reck- lessly in the back seat. They hit each other with their rolled up towels. Bathing suits peek out even further with each blow. They get a warning from the driver. They sit quietly once more. .

pC} hind the curtains of the upstairs bedroom window there is the faintest trace of movement by a robed figure. A vigilant spouse spies through the opening at the receding vehicle with workboots in hand. Each step to the closet leaves a damp footprint in the rug. The footprints can be traced back from the | window to the steamy bathroom.

The face shows a serene expression. Within there is a jumble of emotions flowing. They range from exhilaration, to loathing. From joy to embarrassment. The classic symptoms of someone about to embark on a forbidden act.

The boots are placed inthe closet. The figure glides furtively to adresser despite the turmoil of thoughts. The room could have been bisected like an apple. Each side the same except for a few token items. Perfume bottles lie on the dresser top beside the plastic name tag with “Sheila” on it. Directly opposite is an identical dresser. Cologne bottles lie beside the name tag with “Ralph” on it. Both tags vestiges of last weeks conference.

The figure reaches down to the third drawer. The drawer is sticky and gives resistance, as if to say, “You shouldn’t be doing this. How would the children react if they were shown this side of their parent?” Caring thoughts give way to the need for personal gratification. Inside the drawer lies the objects of desire. Undergarments. White ones lie on top. Hiding beneath the everyday wear, tucked into the deepest corners of the dresser, are the colored ones. The red for daring days. The black for seductive evenings.

All thoughts of fear and embarrassment leave the mind, as exhilaration and joy predominate. The frowned upon act, wearing undergarments of the opposite sex, is forgotten.

The terry cloth robe is shed. No clothes are worn underneath. Eyes closed, the luxurious feel of the black underwear blocks the senses. An envelop- ing warmth pervades the body as the underpants inch their way up the legs.

In the driveway the car returns. The engine is left on. Unheard steps echo throughout the quiet household. Muffled feet climb the carpeted stairs.

The bedroom door is pushed open.

Shock registers on his face. A moment of unexpected revelation. The sudden exposition of a hidden fetish. Their eyes meet.

He speaks.

“Sheila, what the hell are you doing in my underwear?”

The car outside sputters and stalls. The house- hold is quiet once again. *

planet of the arts p16 Vol. seven, Issue no. two

CROSS DRESSING

The house is “exceptionally quiet for a

Saturday. From the driveway a car pulls

away. Three children move about reck-

lessly in the back seat. They hit each

other with their rolled up towels. Bathing suits peek out even further with each blow. They geta warning from the driver. They sit quietly once more.

Eee = hind the curtains of the upstairs bedroom window there is the faintest trace of movement by a robed figure. A vigilant spouse spies through the opening at the receding vehicle with workboots in hand ach step to the closet leaves a damp footprint in the rug. The footprints can be traced back from the window to the steamy bathroom

The face shows a serene expression. Within there is a jumble of emotions flowing. They

ange from exhilaration, to loathing. Frém joy to embarrassment. The classic symptoms of someone about to embark on a forbidden act.

The boots are placed in the closet. The figure glides furtively toa dresser despite the turmoil of thoughts.’ The room could have been bisected like an apple. Each side the same except for afew token items. Perfume bottles lie on the dresser top beside the plastic name tag with “Sheila” on it. Directly opposite is an identical dresser. Cologne bottles lie beside the name tag with “Ralph” on it. Both tags vestiges of last weeks conference

The figure reaches down to the third drawer. The drawer is sticky and gives resistance, as if to say, “You shouldn't be doing this. How would the children react if they were shown this side of their parent?” Caring thoughts give way to the need for personal gratification. Inside the drawer lies the objects of desire. Undergarments. White ones lie on top. Hiding beneath the everyday wear, tucked into the deepest corners of the dresser, are the colored ones. The red for daring days. The black for seductive evenings.

All thoughts of fear and embarrassment leave the mind, as exhilaration and joy predominate. The frowned upon act, wearing undergarments of the opposite sex, is forgotten.

The terry cloth robe is shed. No clothes are worn underneath. Eyes closed, the luxurious feel of the black underwear blocks the senses. An envelop- ing warmth pervades the body as the underpants inch their way up the legs.

In the driveway the car returns. The engine is left on. Unheard steps echo throughout the quiet household. Muffled feet climb the carpeted stairs.

The bedroom door is pushed open.

Shock registers on his face. A moment of unexpected revelation. The sudden exposition of a hidden fetish. Their eyes meet

He speaks.

“Sheila, what the hell are you doing in my underwear?”

The car outside sputters and stalls. The house- hold is quiet once again. *