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The days were getting shorter. Summer had just flown by. Patrick was beginning to feel a quite a panic setting in. He had promised to find a job by the end of summer, but his heart just wasn't in it. Here it was already the second week of September. His father was getting impatient. Patrick would rather have gone to school. He had the grades for it. But his father had not supported his choice of schools. Linfield's College of Nursing at Good Samaritan Hospital was accepting men in the nursing program. In two years he could be an LPN if he stuck it out four, he could graduate an RN. But his Dad said "I'm not paying anybody to turn my son in to a pantywaist male nurse!"
The story opens up with Patrick about to go shopping, the feminine pastime that never grows old. If only, he could find a job where he could dress like this. He looked particularly good this time. Both Mom and Dad were at work today. Knowing he would be alone in the morning, he had started preparing last night. He had taken a long hot bath, using the bubble bath he gotten at Christmas time. His father could not know he used bubble bath. Last night had been his bowling night, so he would never know. Dad was very predictable on his bowling night. Out of the house at 6:30, back no earlier than 10:30. Mom on the other hand was fully aware of all that the bubble bath meant. She had even seen him leaving the bathroom and knew at a glance what was in store for today.
The image that greeted him in the mirror was perfection. It was everything he had hoped for. His skin tone was soft and natural looking; his lips full and his cheeks had just a touch of color. His lashes were dark and long; his hair was long, soft and curly. It was full of body, just as he had hoped it would be.
How old had he been when they rented "Some Like It Hot" on video? Seven? No, he was eight. He remembered because it was just the week before the Fourth of July. There had been fire crackers going off during the movie and his father was telling him when he was eight they had real fire crackers. Not just those "Lady Fingers" they can get from Montana these days.
Anyway, it was the Fourth of July that year when he found himself alone in the basement. The laundry was on the counter ready to go into the washing machine, except Mom had taken the day off for the holiday. He had been impressed by how much Jack Lemon and Tony Curtis had looked like girls and he thought at the time it would be fun to try that too. He knew that he couldn't just ask permission to try it. His Dad always talked badly about "sissies" and "pantywaists" and had said that's what they looked like. It, he said, was what made the movie so funny. Two men running around like a couple of pantywaists.
He turned around and took the hand mirror and checked all sides. He never tired of this game. The only thing he liked more than a mirror was a photograph. He had very few of those. His sister had taken a few when he was younger. But they always had trouble getting them developed because she never took a whole roll and of course Dad could never see them.
There he was alone with the wash. The whole family was next door, where Dad and the neighbor were trying to outdo each other as barbecue king. He had come over to get his swim suit out of the laundry and put it on, so he could go into the wading pool they got yesterday. He had decided to change right there in the basement and was naked when the thought struck him. 'He could put on his sister's clothes and no one would know.' After all, they were going right into the washing machine tomorrow. No need to worry about getting them dirty. The white clothes (panties and slips) were in one pile, and coloreds (dresses) were in another. So he did it. Panties, slip and dress. He liked it, right from the time he first felt the nylon panties sliding over his legs.

Ficción y literatura
septiembre 25
Patricia Allen
Smashwords, Inc.

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