One of our male authors tries out cross-dressing and water-sports for the first time

Today something happened that I have always wanted for
twenty years.

A good friend from the Internet had provided me with a
true gift of friendship. She had spent some time
looking for the exact thing I wanted, then bought it,
tried it, used it herself, and finally mailed it over
the ocean to me. What was it precisely!

She had bought me a true, original, real-world “normal”
short skirt.

Yes I know this is booooring, but for me, it really
meant something. Finally I am done with makeshift
skirts made out of old nighties or old throwaways. I
have always wanted to wet myself for real, wearing a
real woman’s skirt. And this time, I even knew for sure
that the skirt had already been warn and found suitable
by a girl, so I couldn’t go wrong…

So when everybody was away, I drank six cups of
chamomile tea, put on some old pair of panties, placed
the usual plastic bag that prevents me from staining
the whole front of the skirt (I’m proud of this
invention) and swapped my pants for the skirt.

The skirt has an elastic waist band and reaches down to
just above my knees. This gives me ample opportunity to
either part my legs (the skirt is very, very wide) or
squat down just before I wet myself. In both ways, the
skirt won’t touch my panties or the ground, and I am
completely safe. My friend has tested both poses as
well and she confirms that nothing happened while doing
it.

Dressed for action, I went to my computer and brushed
up my latest story, that probably will get finished
next week or so (I need to climb a hill because I am up
to something which I am not too familiar with, neither
in stories nor in reality).

After an hour or so, I really felt my bladder
protesting, so I went downstairs and entered the
garden. On my favourite spot, I just spread my legs and
looked down to my skirt. It flowed nicely around my
thighs and I believed my friend on her word that it
would work this way. Even while I thought that the wide
pleats would hang between my legs a bit.

So then I let it come.

I am very experienced in this, so I don’t have to wait
indefinitely to get one drop in my panties. When I wear
a skirt, I can go in my underwear any time. Within
seconds, I felt it coming. Around me were all the
normal sounds of a densely populated area, but I knew I
was secure from view on my spot in the garden, and I
hoped nobody would come home during the next quarter of
an hour.

The skirt was clearly noticeable against my legs; after
all, it is not one of my very light fabric makeshifts.
It is warm and cozy and really feels like a garment. I
was fully clothed, socks, shoes, sweater, skirt,
panties… If I had been a girl, I could have stepped
out onto the street and walk up to the sand box and
talk to the children and walk around the corner of the
bushes and stand over there for a minute. But I
couldn’t.

I could just stand on my favourite spot in the garden,
with my legs apart and my hands in my sides, and look
down to my own skirt. Three houses further on, a girl
laughed. My skirt waved a bit in the wind. A dog
barked. And then the wonder happened. I slowly started
to wee in my panties, under a real skirt, just as my
friend had done under the same skirt a few weeks
earlier.

Well, I don’t need to tell you how this feels, because
we all know. It was marvellous. I thoroughly wetted my
panties for about two minutes (not continuously, but in
three firm spurts and one long gush) and then spent
another minute dripping out, still with my legs apart
and while not touching my skirt at all.

My friend was right: nothing happened to my skirt.
Everything fell down exactly like it should, from the
middle bottom of my panties, right between my legs, and
only my right sock got a bit wet because of a trickle
down my right leg.

Finally I dared to move. I walked a few steps and
squatted to squeeze my panties, and then, still
dripping a bit, I went inside. Feeling my skirt
brushing my legs with clearly noticeable wet panties
around my bum was a delight I’ll never forget. In front
of the mirror I hiked up my skirt to look at my
panties.

Much to my delight, I now had reference material to
compare them to. My friend had sent me some video clips
showing girls going into their panties under little
skirts, and what I was looking at right now came
absolutely very close. Apart from that bulge, that is.
But I am now finally capable of wetting myself The Real
Way: ‘like a girl’.

So I dropped my skirt again. Absolutely no stain
wherever, and the thick fabric wouldn’t have showed it
even if I would have sit down on it. My friend had made
the perfect choice. Normally I would have liked to walk
around for a few hours this way, wetting myself once in
a while and enjoying the freedom a skirt gives you. But
now I had a time constraint and I needed to be quick.

Thus I put my left hand up my skirt and cupped the
front of my panties, rubbing gently. With my legs apart
as if wetting myself, hiding my flat hand under my
skirt, I got over the top in about a minute. With my
knees buckling, I experienced the best orgasm in
months. Afterwards, I cleaned up and put everything
away again, waiting for the next occasion.

Pity, men are not allowed to wear skirts. It is such
nice weather here, I could wear a skirt or dress all
the time and walk a block every few hours. How
unfair… many girls here *do* wear a dress or skirt
and walk a block every few hours… 🙂

Thinking of the CDA bill trying to forbid this type of
innocent but very useful and mind-easing communications
makes me mad. I’ve always thought that the USA was
quite hypocritical, but now I know for sure. Blocking
interpersonal traffic while selling automatic fire arms
to madmen on every street corner makes me think of
certain states in history.

Hell, next week they’ll forbid cheerleaders because
they are too arousing.

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