At night all skirts are gray (blue)

Woman clothes for men on a business trip. It was soon that time again. A trip was in the offing, all in the name of professional drifting. Business trips always start and end the same way. With boring bureaucracy. Booking flights, hotels and rental cars. Just like the final accounting of expenses, travel costs and […]

Woman clothes for men on a business trip.

It was soon that time again. A trip was in the offing, all in the name of professional drifting. Business trips always start and end the same way. With boring bureaucracy. Booking flights, hotels and rental cars. Just like the final accounting of expenses, travel costs and so on.

It was not planned that way, I have to admit. Not at all. As usual, I just wanted to take one or two pieces of clothing with me, in case I have to struggle at the hotel desk for an hour or two and just want an adequate outfit. So I grabbed a gray (blue) leather skirt, petrol blue satin blouse, lovely underwear, and black stump pants and black pumps. I’m used to packing my suitcases for two people and two outfit variations of classic genders – while my wife has to pack just for herself. I envy her this easy circumstance.

I didn’t get much sleep that night. Hotel rooms don’t really bother me, but every once in a while you secretly wish you were in a completely different place. Sometimes the random choice of rooms just hits you extra hard. That’s how I stayed that night, with the windows facing the courtyard. And anyone who has ever resided in the immediate vicinity of Hamburg’s Kiez knows: it can get loud, it gets loud, and it got loud.

It was winter. So my coat, as well as a fashionable scarf, hung ready on the hanger right next to the room door. It was just after five in the morning; still five long hours to the first appointment. I absolutely do not like being wide awake and the rest of my bedtime is either just really long, or at worst, much longer than the time I was already asleep. An absolute horror, usually. So I tried to distract myself mentally and wallowed in thought here and there. I was getting fitter and fitter, tossing and turning in bed. And then it popped back into my head what I had once read: If you can’t sleep and it even lasts longer than a quarter, almost half an hour, then get up consistently and don’t sleep. Work, read, in the most exaggerated case just do sports or go for a walk.

It was shortly after five, my thoughts were circling from meeting to meeting. I need a cut! Now! I need a change. And the coat was hanging close at hand. In addition, masks have been mandatory indoors for a long time; so I can cover up my three-day beard perfectly with a high-necked scarf and mask.

You probably already know what’s coming next. And that’s exactly how it was.

It was half past five. I ripped open the suitcase, quickly put on my bra and panties, and slipped the pantyhose down my leg. I slipped into a skirt and blouse to finish. Now still the coat with the scarf and mask on and ready!

There I stood now in the room in front of the mirror and examined me top in fashion in the attractive business outfit.

My heart was pounding like crazy. The room card was still in the slot. My gaze wandered from the mirror over my outfit to the room card. Slowly I reached for it, knowing that the light would go out soon and I would have to open the door to see something again. As the light shone only through the window, the outfit changed to a completely uniform hue. After all, all skirts are gray (blue) at night.

I stuck my head and both ears through the crack in the door. No one to see. Nothing to hear. Shortly after half past five. Only in the far distance of the hotel complex I heard kitchen noises. They were busily preparing breakfast, but were definitely all busy and certainly not in the hotel corridors. And the rest just had to be asleep at this hour.

I pushed myself into the hallway with an invisible hand and quietly let the door fall into the lock.

Now I was in a trance. Concentrated and in an absolute tunnel. You just don’t “do” something like that. And yes, “easy” it certainly wasn’t. I slowly walked along the corridor with my head held high. One foot in front of the other. Concentrated, I balanced on my spiked heels down the carpet. Butt stretched out proudly and purposefully on my way to the end of the hallway where a staircase opened up.

To prove it to myself, I strode up the first steps to the other floor. My heart was racing wildly. For what if someone discovered me? What if someone identified me as a man? Quickly, I immediately turned around and descended the stairs again. I could not be heard running because of the carpet, although I was running towards the room at a goose step.

It was as if the seconds flew by and the door of the room slid shut behind me as if by itself.

Silence. Heart pounding. My body quivering. Adrenaline was everywhere.

I wanted more. Round two. This time I would easily make it to the elevator on the other side. Finally, I want to see myself in a mirror outside the room, largely experiencing a realistic situation and admiring the silhouette with the fine fabrics in the mirror.

The carpet of the hallway completely swallows the clacking of high heels. Only the elevator floor suddenly did not. Thus, I immediately believed everyone would have to hear that and wake up immediately. I looked down at me tense, excited and focused. Absolutely stylish combination! I like it very much. Too bad that this kind of fashion, currently socially not everywhere well an-….

Shock!!! No, no, no! Stop!

The elevator door took on a life of its own and wanted to close completely. I quickly pressed the open door button and immediately jumped out. So I stumbled straight back to the room and, trembling with excitement, closed the door behind me – again.

This absolute state of excitement and the feeling of maximum vulnerability and freedom at the same time, did not exhaust me, however, it let any thoughts escape and me be in the absolute here and now.

It is therefore hardly surprising that after another last test of courage along the hotel corridor, I stumbled back to the room shortly before six o’clock most promptly and undressed directly and slipped back into my (normal) sleeping clothes. Because you don’t want to overdo it. And six o’clock? Someone can wake up at that time. Although? One would not have recognized me possibly anyway.

I was highly satisfied. In the here and now, as I could not have been more. The situation burned itself in and I let it pass again in review. And I was now finally every moment to grab once again two so important hours of restful sleep.




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Written by The man in dress

Since my youth, I have worn that certain something. My closest confidants may not know about it, but it still defines me. It is the freedom to do what I want and what "one" simply doesn't do. It makes me feel complete, accomplished and simply comfortable. Nevertheless, I am not what "one" would classically imagine such a person to be. Neither do I like people of the same sex, nor do I want to change mine. Quite the opposite. I am one hundred percent satisfied with myself and my body. And my partner, whom I love more than anything, feels the same way. She not only knows it, but supports me all the way. Now I am very happy that I inspire you. Whether you are just curious, a woman with a partner who does the same as me - or simply a man who would like to do but cannot or does not dare.

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“Help my husband wear women’s clothes”.
If this is on your mind or if you are the man yourself, then I have written a book for you. A humorous all-rounder with facts, figures and stories as well as real-life situations. You will get new perspectives on the topic and what you can do if your man wears women’s clothes, or if you are the man who does and you would like to teach your partner.

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