When I was twelve, I was the only boy in a summer school drama class. I got the part of the court jester to play in our only performance, and one of the girls in the class offered to let me wear her tights. I immediately declined, but afterwards wished I had said yes. After that, I fantasized about wearing tights. By the time I was fifteen, I had bought a couple of pairs of panties to enjoy. Soon afterwards, I was at school very late waiting for a ride home after tennis practice. The place I was waiting was right outside the girl’s gym where the boys went on rainy days and where dances were held. So, it was not entirely foreign territory. I went in to take a drink and paused, not being able to hear a sound anywhere. I walked over to the locker room doors, paused again, and went in. I found a number of open lockers and helped myself to girls’ gym shorts, a bathing suit, some tights, leotards, and maybe one or two more things I don’t remember. That night, I slept in the tights and leotards. I knew then that I would want to be wearing women’s clothes my whole life.