CW:
Internalized homophobia, lewd thoughts
The reality of what I had done was sinking in and by the time I left for work I was in full panic mode. My hands were white-knuckled with my death grip on the steering wheel to prevent them from trembling. I felt like I was going to cry, but tears alluded me, leaving me to writhe in emotional torment without any relief.
"What have I done?" I panicked when I was safely in my car and driving to work.
You came while imagining Chad and you were both girls and you sucked her long, hard, and absolutely beautiful- NO, stop it brain you're not fucking helping, I thought angrily.
This is so fucked, I don't want to be gay! If I liked Chad then I wouldn't be able to like girls anymore, and I would have to like guys!
Girls are so pretty I don't want to have to stop liking them and guys are… something?
I had never really thought about if I found any guys attractive since I clearly didn't like most of them and I really wanted to continue not thinking about it so I abruptly changed lanes on what I was panicking about and then on the road as I had almost missed the exit to the office.
I've betrayed my best friend's trust by masturbating to the thought of us having sex! How the fuck can I even look him in the eyes after that? How am I supposed to look ANYBODY in the eyes now?
There's only one thing I can do now, I'm going to have to fake my own death and move far, far away where no one can ever find me and live the rest of my life as a hermit or something…
Are hermits allowed to play video games? Uhh, probably not... Okay, that plan is out, so what are some more realistic options? I pondered.
Well, the obvious answer is to examine why that made me happy and why I imagined us as girls, but fuck that! I gotta bury that shit deep in the darkest recesses of my mind and pretend this never happened!
Now that I had a completely feasible and realistic plan to deal with the situation I could go on with my day and not have to worry about it.
~~~
My plan to forget all about cumming to a fantasy of sucking off a girl version of Chad failed almost immediately. I got almost no work done in the three hours I was there. Anxiety and self-loathing bogged me down to the point my merciful manager noticed and sent me home for a no-questions-asked mental health day.
Thankfully, Chad wasn't at the apartment when I returned and I decided playing some fast-paced video games would distract me from what happened that morning.
It didn't, I tried all my old favorites and even my new favorite game, the latest in a long-running series of incredibly difficult brick walls to smash my head against couldn't keep me from remembering what was quite possibly the grossest thing I'd ever done.
Maybe gross wasn't the right word, but I'd have been hard pressed to come up with something else to describe how I felt.
God, I'd like to be hard-pressed by a hot girl's cock right about now…
I vigorously shook the intrusive thought from my head, then decided to shut my computer off and sequester myself in my room with the black-out curtains drawn and lights off, lest I perceive my own existence more than I had too.
Wallowing in despair was nothing new to me, besides gaming it might be my favorite pastime, especially recently. It just seemed like I was doomed to hide in my room like a scared child.
Not that I had been a particularly happy child, but puberty really cemented it as a permanent fixture in me.
Whenever I voiced any of my negative feelings growing up I was told to suck it up and be a man. That had always made me feel worse so I learned to bottle up my feelings and try to deal with them on my own.
So at times when depression consumed me like this, certain urges popped up in my head apropos of nothing. They promised to ease my troubled mind, but at a terrible cost if I were found out.
Sure, I'd eventually learn how to lock those feelings away and force myself to become an emotionless automaton, but they were always there in the back of my mind and when inevitably they broke free I'd crash and burn for a few days before caving in and indulging in my secret stash.
There was one thing I could do, something I only started to risk after I moved out of my father's house when I graduated college last year. It was rare for things to get that bad, but giving in and indulging actually did make me feel better, but no matter how comfortable and relaxing it was to indulge in my little secret, I had vowed never to open that Pandora's Box ever again, but the thing is… Pandora could never close that box once she took a peek.
Ten minutes later I lifted out the false bottom of one of my dresser drawers and went to retrieve a cute v-neck shirt with a banana-cat hybrid on it and my favorite pair of skinny jeans, but hidden underneath what could be argued as unisex clothes was what I'd had always been too afraid to try on.
An unworn knee length black skirt and a half-opened pack of panties. I had actually gotten them several months ago, but had never been able to muster the courage to wear them as it had always seemed a step too far and had chickened out only time I tried.
I pulled the clothes out and threw them on my bed like they might burn me if I held on too long. Like a standoff in an old western movie I stood glancing back and forth between them like expert cumslingers waiting for the perfect time to strike.
Really, it's kind of silly to wear boxers with a skirt. So like, it's not even, like, a big deal to try one of them on.
Sure, it's not. All normal men have to rationalize wearing women’s clothes to convince themselves it's okay. A cynical part of my mind sarcastically commented.
It's the only thing that cheers me up when I'm this depressed. I've got to do it and nothing is going to stop me from enjoying this fleeting happiness.
I donned the panties quickly so as to not allow myself time to chicken out. The soft fabric compressed me in an oddly reassuring way, like a weighted blanket but for your nethers.
A smile crept across my face and after a moment enjoying the view I took the skirt up off the bed and put it on. It seemed almost magical how wonderful I felt when I started dancing about my room dressed up like a girl. The fabric swayed pleasingly with my movements and I giggled softly to myself.
I'll try spinning, that's a good trick.
I swirled around like a barrel-rolling fox pilot and for once in my life everything felt right. It was as if this is how things were meant to be and everything leading up to this point was a pale imitation of what happiness should be.
How am I supposed to go back to wearing my regular clothes after this? This is too comfortable for me to ever choose them again now that I know this is an option! If only I could wear this kind of stuff all the time… Wait! No one would be able to tell if I wore panties instead of boxers.
As I stood in internal debate there something dawned on me, these were just normal clothes, really there was nothing particularly special about them. I'd literally brought them all online for about twenty bucks.
Sure they were girl's clothes and thus much cuter and more comfortable, obviously, but at the end of the day they weren't some magical garments in and of themselves that made me feel better by wearing them.
It was that fact they were cute and girly that made me happy and maybe, just maybe, that was worth investigating, but I had completely refused to dwell on it until now.
Why does wearing girl's clothing have this effect on me? I've never heard of someone crossdressing as a joke or for a show to be this calm and happy about it. Surely there's an explanation for why I specifically feel more comfortable wearing this? Why I like looking like a–
Before I had a chance to finish the thought Chad suddenly barged into my room without knocking and I froze stock still.
"Hey, Brad do you-" Chad began.
His eyes went as wide as dinner plates when he saw me. He looked me over from head to toe, absorbing every little detail of my cute outfit.
"Out!" I shrieked and pointed like I was at the end of a movie about aliens snatching people's bodies.
"Sorry, I'm going," he apologized and left without further comment.
Paypal
As SOON as the changing sequence started I knew the “I need to barge in” senses would start tingling
Schrodinger: I have no idea if the boy is gay until I open the closet.
The Boy:Uh I'm not Schrodinger, can I leave now.
Schrodinger: NO now shut up
No one would be able to tell if I wore panties instead of boxers.
Life pro tip: Double check there is nothing left behind in the washing machine