Mathew wandered through the tall arching doorway that led into his Aunt Carol's massive walk-in closet. She had left the house a little more than an hour ago for the airport, and he was glad to hear of it, too. He had been waiting for her to finally take the big trip she'd been talking about for months.
Each time he thought the weekend was coming, where he could be alone to wear all of the wonderful clothes he had collected over the summer, something would come up and she would have to reschedule.
But not this time. She was gone, and Mathew had the entire weekend to have a little fun of his own.
It got old fast, Mathew thought, hiding his cute little thongs and soft pantyhose under his jeans; he wanted to wear them under skirts and dresses. He wanted to practice his gait in high heels out on the open floor of the house, not alone at night in his room, pacing back and forth; he needed space. He tired of having to hide the fact that his entire petite little body was completely devoid of hair except for his eye brows, and the brown bun on his head. He wanted to face his fear, and venture into public one hundred percent, head to toe dressed as a woman.
That was Mathew's ultimate fantasy: to be invisible, yet seen, and accepted.
Mathew gazed at all of Aunt Carol's expensive, and incredibly stylish clothes, and shoes neatly arranged in the walk-in closet. He never liked to borrow his aunt's things unless he absolutely had to, which wasn't often because over the course of a couple months he had purchased a decent collection for himself off the internet. Plus, she was compulsive about her possessions so if needed to, like this morning, then he had to be extra mindful when perusing through her closet.
He needed a pair of her heels to borrow this morning.
Aunt Carol's closet was full of classy items. She worked as a paralegal at some fancy law firm that Mathew could never remember the name of; so, her wardrobe consisted of sheer pantyhose, stockings, short skirts in dark blues, browns, and blacks, tons of blouses from the basic cotton to the more elegant silk, and she had a whole dresser dedicated to panties, thongs, brassieres, corsets, and bustiers; her own private lingerie store, really.
Mathew moved passed so many items he wanted to try, but he had to stay focused. What he most adored was along the back wall, where her high heel collection lined the tall case of shelves. His favorite heels she owned were a pair of black leather T-strap heels with little embroidery stitching on the rounded toes.
Mathew handled them like precious little twins.
Aunt Carol hardly wore them, he thought, but he remembered when she did how he could not help noticing how wonderfully she moved in the heels.
Mathew remembered the first time he wore high heels...
It was just his luck that he born the way he was. It'd always been that way. Everything that was handed down to him from his brothers, or his cousins, was either two sizes too big, or down right made him look like a child in a grown ups t-shirt. He was born premature he had learned, and along the way he just never fully developed like the other boys.
Mathew stood at 5'5 tall, and that was after his growth spurt. He wore a size x-small in t-shirts, and a size 22 in pants and shorts, and his feet, like everything else on his body, were smaller than average; a size 6 in men's footwear, but just like his aunt - a size 7 1/2 in women's heels.
Mathew stumbled onto this feminine side of himself by accident more so than out of curiosity. And over the years it progressed into something he yearned for, satisfying the way he viewed himself both physically, and mentally.
Nothing could ever feel more liberating to him.
He's twenty now, but was sixteen then at that time when he lived with his cousins in San Francisco around the summer of 2019.
It was a time, all of a sudden, when the new generations of young people embraced the new communities demanding representation from their own society.
Mathew was in the midst of all that, young, but unconsciously apart of a new wave of revitalized tolerance stoking the nation once again.
His cousins were hip to it, and one night they were drinking when they shouldn't have been, and some of his cousins' friends noticed how beautiful Mathew's bone structure was, and how his hips had a natural feminine way about them.
Mathew would never have noticed this before.
The word they used was androgynous, and they had to explain to him what it meant. And it made sense to him, he just never thought of it that way before.
Anyways, one of the girls, a cute goth girl he liked, dared him to wear some of her clothes.
"Of course," Mathew laughed, and said, "Not gonna happen".
But, she said, "It's just for a prank that we want to play on one of the other girls, this stuck-up lesbian we can't stand."
Her friends and her wanted to bet how long it would take the drunk lesbo to realize that she was talking to a man.
Mathew thought that might be funny, too. He knew which girl she was talking about, and he was buzzing pretty good and thought it would be hilarious to get her.
He said, "I'll do it."
And soon as Mathew said, "Yes." The girls cheered in excitement, and didn't waste any time rushing him upstairs to the bathroom.
A couple of their girlfriend followed them upstairs, wanting to see if this was actually going to happen, or not.
The first thing they did was ask Mathew if they could remove all of his leg hair. They had a soap that did all of the work so he didn't have to worry about cutting himself with a razor.
What the hell, Mathew shrugged. Nothing really matter to him when he was feeling that drunk anyway.
They gave him the soap, and told him to hop in the shower, and rub it all over his legs, then rinse it off. But being as drunk as he was, Mathew rubbed it all over his body as if it were regular body wash, like he was taking a regular shower.
The goth girl, the main girl, walked in, and asked, "How it was going in there?" Mathew shouted back, "I'm just about to wash my face, and then I'll be right out."
She freaked. "Don't' wash your face! That's hair remover. It'll take your eyebrows off."
Mathew stopped. Thank God she said something.
In the end, after he rinsed off, and dried off, Mathew's entire body ended up being as smooth as silk.
The girls came in to check him out. They thought it was funny, cute as hell, but funny. He didn't mind them seeing him naked, either. The booze, he figured.
Mathew got a kick out of it too, but he felt naked-naked, like new born naked.
The hair would grow back, he told himself, but when he looked in mirror, and saw that every inch of his body, from his neck to his arm pits, his arms, his pubes, his asshole, his legs and feet, everything except for his eye brows and hair, was gone; he actually liked it.
Mathew felt wildly exhilarated by how sensitive his skin was to everything.
Even the slight breeze rushing in from the bathroom door opening and closing as the girls handed him a few thongs and bras to try on, felt delicious against his skin.
At that moment, Mathew felt like he was all in.
He tried on the thongs until he found one that he liked and set the other ones aside.
It was a soft, lacy white thong, and he pulled the straps up high on his hips like he'd seen models do. The front covered his small penis okay, he thought, but it started to bulge against the thin fabric by that point. The bra he chose matched the thong because that's what he thought women did. Either way, he felt amazing, and the fabrics caressed his skin with the slightest movement. It was really turning him on.