By the time I was about 15, I had identified as a Transvestite.  I was able to buy the lingerie I was craving, at Marks and Spencer- not just borrow my mothers. Stockings were available everywhere-even in newsagents-but tights and hold ups had not arrived, so suspenders were a must.

On the top shelves of newsagents,t here were interesting magazines of ladies exposing their stockings and suspenders, which got me excited and a focus-more especially as I was developing a fetish sexuality surrounding this, and enjoying myself. I was not really interested in the naked female body, only if lingerie was involved.

I would imagine myself as those ladies, exposing their lingerie-I imitated the poses, raised my skirts- and usually had an immediate orgasm.

As I developed, I realised that I liked photos where ladies appeared unaware that their skirt and underwear was exposed and where they also appeared unaware of being photographed. Beautiful Britons had about 30 or40% of such pictures and were a good source of stimulation.

I had also, around that time, used a public toilet to put on lingerie. I had not realised how sexual such toilets were! Holes in the walls between cubicles, graffiti and phone numbers written on those same walls and dates and times for meet ups -it was all there.

However, it was also not the easiest thing to remove trousers and pants to put on suspenders, stockings and panties! But I persevered.

So, I visited different toilets, sometimes with lingerie underneath my shirt and trousers. I was not attracted by men, but this became one of my outlets for sexual release.

Eventually I thought that it would be logical to try and meet someone who also loved lingerie. I would place used to leave the cellophane wrapping that stockings had been in, on the floor, by the pedestal. If someone was in the next cubicle, I thought, they could see this wrapping and realise I crossdressed

I got mirrors –on long sticks-pushed underneath the dividing wall, fingers poking though the inevitable holes between cubicles and notes passed under. Each time I was both fearful and excited.

I remember once I did kneel down as requested, against the wall, and a hand and forearm came under and stroked my stockinged legs. He pushed a note under telling me to be fully dressed and return in 2 hours. I never did, as I was too scared.

In those pre internet days weekly advertising magazines like Friday Ad carried Adult Advertising. Ladies would advertise here and some of them would offer dressing services. 

I came to realise that this meant I could visit them and they would provide me with clothes to wear, help me dress and treat me like a woman. This all sounded too good to be true.