Sunday Morning Pantyhose Part 33

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Sunday Morning Pantyhose XXXII
By
Tracy Davis

This is a true story of how my Mom feminized me as a teenager. She had caught me wearing her pantyhose the summer before seventh grade. I got the surprise of my life the first Sunday of junior high, when she started encouraging me to wear them, and then it was all downhill from there.
I had forgotten about this story until the other day, when I saw the obituary for Mrs. Myers, the woman in the story who drove me to her church so I could play on Sunday morning. She lived to the ripe old age of 102. I wonder if, at the end, she still remembered driving a very effeminate teenage boy in women’s slacks and high heels to her church? – Tracy

The summer after tenth grade, I got asked to substitute organist at another church one Sunday when their organist was on vacation. Unfortunately, Mom had planned to go out of town to visit friends, and was trusting me to stay home alone and watch the dog. When we discussed it, Mom said, “I think Doris Myers used to go to that church. Maybe she could drive you over there that Sunday. I’ll call her and ask.”
Mrs. Myers agreed to drive me, so I was able to play. Mom left on vacation on Friday, so we moved our weekly legs-and-underarms shaving party to Thursday night. I was planning to spend the whole time she was gone in girl mode!
On Sunday morning, I got up and put on pantyhose first thing, like always. I was planning to wear my Young Organist’s Association uniform, with high heeled sandals instead of pumps, so I had to wear sandalfoot pantyhose. I found a pair in my lingerie drawer that were sheer-to-the-waist, slid my panties off and put them on, then went out in the kitchen for breakfast in my cami top and robe. After feeding the dog and letting her out, I poured myself a bowl of bran cereal and a glass of orange juice, and added Serutan to my juice. I hadn’t had a BM the previous day, and was feeling gassy and bloated. After breakfast, I went in the bathroom for a BM. I got a magazine, went in the bathroom, pulled down my pantyhose, and sat on the pot to try to go. I took a breath and pushed, but I just could not go. I really wasn’t feeling the urge to evacuate, even though I was so bloated. Finally I gave up and pulled up my pantyhose. I opened my girl drawer in the vanity and got out my Secret deodorant. I stretched my arms up over my head and put it on my nice smooth underarms!
Walking back into my bedroom, I took off my robe and cami, got one of the lacy, frilly bras that Char had bought me the previous summer out of my lingerie drawer, and put it on. I stuffed it with a pair of pantyhose to give me a figure, then put the cami back on. I got my YOA uniform out of the closet, took the white misses’ slacks off the hanger, and slid them slowly and sensually up my pantyhosed legs and bottom. I tucked in the hem of my cami and fastened them, then got out my white turtleneck and put it on. I did my hair and makeup, then put on the blazer. I got my purse and sandals and put them by the chair in the foyer, and got my music together. I went back and put on my sandals just as Mrs. Myers was pulling in the driveway. I locked the house and got in her car. Even though I was wearing slacks, and not a skirt, I got into her car the girl way, sitting down on the seat first and then pulling my legs in. “Wow, you look really nice!” she said as we pulled away.
When we got to the church, I went up to the organ while Mrs. Myers talked to her friends and got caught up. I sat down in a pew, took off my high heels and practiced. When it was about time for church to start, Mrs. Myers came and sat down in the pew next to me. During the sermon, I sat down in the pew next to her. I crossed my legs and started bobbing my pantyhosed foot up and down out of habit, and I saw Mrs. Myers staring at it! I smiled and wondered if she was thinking, Pantyhose or just knee-highs?
After church, I put my heels back on and then Mrs. Myers and I went out to the social hour. Everyone was very complimentary about how I played, and several people told me how nice I looked! When we got in the car to leave, Mrs. Myers said, “If you don’t have any lunch plans, how about if I take you to lunch on the way home?”
“Oh, that would be great. Thanks!” I replied.
We went to Denny’s for lunch. As we sat there perusing the menus, the waitress came over and asked, “So have you decided?”
I responded, “I think I’m just going to have a salad. I really need some fiber,” I added, blushing.
“I will too,” Mrs. Myers responded, and the waitress took our menus.
“Having problems?” Mrs. Myers asked.
“Mmmm-hmmm. I haven’t had a BM lately. I need a push,” I said.

After lunch, Mrs. Myers took me home. On the way home I made a couple of stinkies, and I clenched my bottom tightly and let them out slowly so I wouldn’t embarrass myself. After she dropped my off at my house, I thanked her profusely. I went in the house and let the dog out. I went in my room and took the blazer off and hung it up, and made another stinky. I started to feel the urge to evacuate, so I went in the bathroom in my high heels, and pulled down my slacks and pantyhose and sat down on the toilet. I took a breath and pushed, and pushed, and pushed. My poop was so big and hard. My erection was rock-hard and quivering, and I was afraid I was going to ejaculate. I shifted my weight over to my left butt cheek, reached back with my right hand and pulled my butt cheeks apart while I pushed. “Oh, I should have taken some Correctol last night,” I moaned. I didn’t think my poop was ever going to come out, but it finally did. It was such a relief! I flushed, then pulled up my pantyhose and slacks and washed my hands.
I went in my room and took off the YOA uniform and hung it up, my faucet hardening into an erection again as I slid my ladies slacks down my pantyhosed legs. I reached down into my pantyhose panty and straightened out my big hard erection. I walked over to the mirror and looked at myself in a bra and cami and pantyhose, remember my girly morning out dressed as a woman the whole time. How Mrs. Myers accepted me as a woman. How she was staring at my pantyhosed foot while I was bobbing it up and down on display. Finally I couldn’t stand it any more. I laid down on my bed, raised up my hips, and slid my pantyhose down to my thighs. I ran my hands over my pretty pantyhosed legs, looking at my pretty perfect legs and feet and nail-polished toes, my faucet quivering, ready to explode. I started running my fingertips over my erection, not pumping it, just gently stroking and titillating it, remembering that wonderful morning. “Oh, I got to be a woman out in public all morning,” I cooed. “I had pantyhose and high heels on.” when I suddenly exploded in climax. I didn’t realize it was coming so soon! After wiping up my semen, I rolled onto my side, closed my eyes, and took a nap.
When I woke up, I got up and went in my girl drawer and got out the red short shorts and the white-and-red top that Char had gotten me the previous summer when I stayed with her. I took off the camisole but left the bra and pantyhose on, since they were sheer-to-the-waist, and put the shorts on over them. The flat brown sandals completed the outfit. I looked at myself in the mirror and I was really rocking the ‘Daisy Duke’ look!
When Mom got home later that evening, she said, “Wow! You look nice. I bet you’ve been a girl all weekend!”
“You know it,” I smiled.

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