It was three o'clock in the morning when I woke up in a cold sweat.  I had been dreaming again.  The same recurring dream I had almost every night.  I was dressed in a soft, pink mohair skirt with a matching turtleneck sweater and a pair of 4" heels over nude stockings.  Suddenly, my wife, Sheila, walks into the room.  She was supposed to be out of town for the week, so I hadn't taken any precautions to make sure I didn't get caught.  She started to scream and then I woke up.  It was the same every night.  the funny thing is, I told my wife about my cross dressing years ago.  In fact, the dreams didn't start until long after I told her.

At the time, she was quite upset about the whole thing, but learned to accept it.  She made me promise not to reveal it to my daughter, and I hadn't.  Our daughter has since moved into her own place about 100 miles away.  We saw her on holidays, but she had a busy life, so we didn't see her much at any other time.  It was shortly after she left that the dreams started.  I am not sure I believe in the whole "analyzing dreams" thing, but this had been going on for so long, that I was sure there was something to it.  My guess was that I wanted to spend more time cross dressed and was afraid to broach the subject with my wife.  Though she knew, she had never seen me dressed.  She knew I had clothes, but not much else.  I knew I had to deal with it or I will never get a good night's sleep again.

Coincidentally, she went away next week, so I had a week to prepare.  The day after she left, I got out my favorite outfit, you know, the one in the dream, and put it on.  I added make-up, a wig and painted my nails.  I sat down on the couch in the den and started writing down my thoughts on how to approach this with her.  I was concentrating so hard on what to say, that I didn't hear the front door open and then close.  So, when my wife walked into the den, I jumped about 2 feet and screamed.  Kind of like my dream, except I was screaming, not my wife.

She stood there staring at me for quite a while.  Then she said "Nice outfit.  I thought you didn't like sweaters?"  "Well", I explained, "I don't like mens sweaters, but I do love women's ones.  She told me to stand up and turn around slowly.  Disgustedly, she said "You look ridiculous.  If you are going to dress like a woman, you should at least look like one.  Come into the bathroom and I will show you how to put make-up on properly.  Where did you get that awful wig?"  I mumbled something about a local department store and followed her out of the room.  As we walked to the bathroom, she stated that we would have to go shopping for a real wig as soon as possible.

Now I was confused.  Happy, but very confused.  When I had told her about my cross dressing, she didn't want to have anything to do with it.  She had given me no reason to think she had changed her mind since.  Now, she wanted to participate in my transition (every cross dressers dream).  I was afraid to ask what was going on, since I didn't want to ruin it, but I was dying to know what she was thinking.  How to approach this without coming straight out and asking...  We spent about the next 45 minutes fixing up my make-up and with her teaching me the basics.

With that done, she told me to follow her as she headed for the living room.  She told me to sit and started talking.  "You are, I am sure, dying to know what is going on.  I have been waiting since after Sara left to live on her own, for you to talk to me about cross dressing more.  When you first told me, I told you that Sara shouldn't know, due to her age.  That time has passed.  Also, when you first told me, I was, frankly, shocked and hurt that you had kept secrets from me.  The actual cross dressing didn't bother me.  Now that Sara has left, there is no reason for the secrets to continue.  I have spent a lot of time thinking about this.  It, obviously, is an important part of your life.  As your wife, I want to be part of all of your life, so if that means participating in your cross dressing, so be it.

One more thing, I told Sara yesterday.  My trip was made up.  I figured the only way to do this was to catch you dressed.  So instead of going on a business trip, I went to Sara's and told her all about it.  It turns out she has known for quite some time.  She found your clothes.  She knew they weren't mine and put 2 and 2 together.  You will be happy to know that she is ok with it.

We have to make some decisions now.  What I need you to determine is if you want to live as a woman full time, or just when you get a chance.  "How could I live as a woman full time?", I asked.  "I can't go to work dressed like this".  "If that wasn't an issue, would you want to?" she asked.  "Well, yes, I guess I would" I responded.

She broke out in a big smile and said "I have been offered a promotion that would require us to move to San Francisco.  The job would pay more than both our current salaries put together.  If I take the job, you can quit yours and we can move to where no one knows us.  You could arrive there as a woman and no one would ever have to know.  Of course if we are going to do this, you are going to have to be convincing as a woman.  I can get a month vacation before starting my new job, so we can work on making you the woman you want to be.  How does that sound?"

I was dumbfounded, this was better than any dream I had ever had.  I readily agreed to her plan and asked where we should start.  So, we sat down and mapped it out.  First I would give my notice and she would let her boss know that she accepted the promotion and would be taking some time off before starting in San Fran..  The next step would be to put our house on the market and hire a realtor to find us a place in our new town.  The next steps were going to be more difficult.  Somehow, I would have to work on my feminine appearance while we went through the process of getting ready to move.

I had a couple of weeks vacation and my boss thought it was better if they just paid me for them, rather than me taking them before quitting.  They didn't require any notice, since my job could be done by just about anyone, so I finished out the week.

Once that was done, I started working on my transition.  The first thing I did was make an appointment for laser hair removal.  They figured it would take about 8 weeks to complete the job.  The laser process wasn't anywhere near as painful as electrolysis and didn't leave my skin all inflamed, so I was able to do this without anyone noticing.  I went to a clinic in a near by town to get hormone treatment started.  They sold me enough pills to last about a year.  They were affiliated with a clinic in San Francisco, so they sent my file to that clinic when we moved.

Sheila bought me enough lingerie to replace all my old stuff.  This included some corsets and corselettes.  She also bought a couple of blouses, some skirts and a coat.  I had a fair amount of my own clothes, but most of it was bought at second-hand shops and weren't in the best of shape.  I went through my closet and removed all my "man" clothes except for a few items.  I needed some things to wear during the time before our departure.  the items I kept were all baggy so my changed shape would not be visible.

I went on a crash diet as I wanted to lose about 25 pounds before we moved.  The corsets helped with this as when fully laced, I didn't have much room for food.  One of the corsets was more of a waist cincher in that it ended above my hips.  I used this one when I went out so the change in posture the other corsets necessitated wasn't evident.

The clinic had referred me to a lawyer they dealt with who was well versed in dealing with gender change.  He started the ball rolling on getting my name changed and dealing with all the various levels of government getting my records changed.  Though I wasn't a transsexual, I was able to change my status without much difficulty.

We were quite lucky with the house.  It sold in 2 weeks for more than we thought we would get.  In fact, we would be able to get a better home in San Fran. for the same money.  Sheila had contracted with a realtor and spent a couple of days out there looking at houses.  Now that we knew what money we had available, we quickly chose one of the houses she had seen and put an offer on it.  We ended up with about $20,000 left over after all the fees were paid.  this helped to offset the cost associated with my changes.  Her company was paying all our moving expenses, so we were in pretty good shape.

As the date of the big move approached, I spent more and more of my time "en femme".  While Sheila worked, I stayed home and packed.  Two weeks before the move, I checked into an institute that specialized in gender issues, including sexual reassignment.  I didn't want that, but they were able to help me with a number of the problems I would encounter.  These included changing the way I walked, talked and gestured.  This also provided me with my first opportunity to dress as a woman full time.  I was quite nervous at first, since no one but my wife had ever seen me "dressed", but I quickly got over it.  By the end of the 2 weeks, I was completely comfortable with my new identity as Beverly.

Since I couldn't go back to our old house as Beverly, Sheila took care of moving out of our house.  The house was in her name, so I didn't have to deal with the lawyers.  Once she was done, she drove to the clinic, picked me up and headed for the airport.  She was driving a rental as we had sold our car.  This way, we didn't have to worry about getting the car to the west coast.

The flight was uneventful and we arrived at about noon.  We grabbed a cab to take us to our new home.  It was beautiful!  It was a Tudor style on a large lot with a manicured lawn and gardens.  Sheila gave me the tour and then we unpacked what little we had brought on the plane.  

The movers wouldn't be there for a couple of days, so we kind of camped out until our furniture arrived.  The next day we bought a new car and some essentials for our new home.  The first was a bed.  We had gotten rid of the one we had at the old place as it was pretty worn out.  We found a place that could deliver that day so we only spent one night sleeping on the floor.

By the end of the week, our furniture was in and we were completely unpacked.  Sheila still had a couple of weeks before she had to report to her new job, so we did some sight-seeing.  This was my first extended period out in public dressed as a woman other than the plane trip.  I found it quite exhilarating.  Of course, San Francisco is quite well know for its acceptance of alternative lifestyles, so mine was nothing new.  As well, Sheila and I were seen as a gay couple, which was a bit weird for Sheila, at first, but she soon got used to it.

We also did some shopping for clothes.  Sheila needed some business suits for her new job and I needed some everyday type clothes, like slacks, sweaters, shoes, etc..  Sheila quickly realized that there was a big advantage to me being a woman, we could shop together and make suggestions and observations about the outfits we were looking at.  Sheila had never had a friend she could do that with.  Our tastes were different, but we understood each other so well, that we were able to find things the other would like.  As for myself, I was in seventh heaven!  I was completely enjoying my new life.

Their was one disadvantage, the hormones made it impossible for me to get an erection, so Sheila bought a strap on dildo.  This satisfied her needs and we soon learned that we both found her using it on me quite pleasurable.  In fact, Sheila liked playing the "male" role so much that the role reversal became permanent.  From that point on, my mouth became the only part of me that ever touched her genitals.

After the two weeks were up, Sheila had to go to work.  Since I didn't have a job, my role became that of the domestic housewife.  I cleaned, cooked, did laundry, shopped and gardened.  Though I had never taken much of an interest in this stuff before, "en femme", I found I enjoyed these chores immensely.  In no time at all, I had the place ship shape and a regular routine established.  I was able to get all my chores down to about half a day's worth of time, so I had considerable time on my hands.  At first, I spent a lot of this time, reading, sun-bathing and discovering new areas of the city we missed in our sight-seeing.  I found a number of restaurants for us to try and with Sheila's new salary, we could afford all of them.

After a couple of months, I was getting kind of bored, so I decided to find a hobby.  Something that had always fascinated me, mostly because of my love for sweaters, was knitting.  I took a beginners course that taught me the basics, then I bought some books with patterns I wanted to try.  Some of the patterns called for stitches not covered in the course, but I was able to find explanations on the internet.  I quickly became very good and was pumping out sweater after sweater.  Eventually, I got bored with this as well, and decided to start designing my own patterns.  By combining all the stitches I could find and some graphic design knowledge I had from a course I had taken in college, I was able to come up with some truly unique sweaters.  I got many comments on them and not a few inquiries into where I had purchased them.  When I told people I designed them myself, Virtually all of them said that they would be willing to pay me to make them some.

This started the germ of an idea that I had.  I thought that maybe I could start a business selling my creations.I discussed my idea with Sheila and she was all for it.  She suggested I do some market research, consisting of checking out what was available in the local boutiques and how much they were selling for.  So, I spent the next month roaming all the boutiques I could find in San Francisco and the neighbor communities.  What I found surprised me.  There were very few boutiques that carried top quality sweaters and those that did, sold them at ridiculously high prices.  When on these reconnaissance missions, I usually wore one of my own creations, just to see what kind of reaction I would get, if any, from the proprietors.  Three of the stores that did carry high quality sweaters did inquire about what I was wearing.  When I told them that they were my own designs, I got offers to buy them.  In fact, by the end of the month, I had offers from 15 stores.  I couldn't possibly supply them all, so I did some negotiating and settled on 2 stores to start with.  Each store had agreed to pay me $500 dollars per sweater.  since all my sweaters were knit in mohair, angora and/or cashmere, they were not inexpensive to make, but even so, my costs amounted to about $50.

To make this work, I was going to have to devote more than half of each day to it, so Sheila suggested we get a maid.  This would allow me to spent most of every day working on my new business.  I managed to crank out 2 sweaters a week, with one new design every other week.  I calculated that I would be able to product approximately 225 sweaters per year, which would amount to a little over $100,000 profit.  After the first six months, The stores were clambering for everything I could get them.  The sweaters were flying off the shelves!  In fact, word of my sweaters had reached some of the fashion magazines as well as some celebrities who wanted me to design one of a kind sweaters for them.

It quickly became obvious that I was going to need help to meet the demand.  Through a combination of the stores I dealt with and the local fashion scene, I was able to locate some of the best hand-knitters in the area.  I hired 2 of them at $50,000 a year.  This was far more than they had ever been paid, so they were very easy to lure away from their current jobs.  I wasn't paying for nothing, though.  I expected them to each produce 250 sweaters a year.  Since they didn't have the designs to create or the business to run, I figured their output should be higher than I was able to achieve.  I also expected their work to be top quality, on a par with what I did.  My time was spent designing and creating one-of-a-kind sweaters for my celebrity clientele.  With the added expense of employees, I was only clearing $200 per sweater.  On the celebrity ones, I was receiving $3000 per sweater but, of course, I was only able to produce about 10 of these per year.  In the end, I was clearing about $130,000 a year.  

By the end of the first year, I had added 10 more knitters and was selling into 15 stores.  I was beginning to become a bit of a celebrity myself as word of my sweaters reached the national and international press.  I held my first runway show after about 2 years, in New York.  The collection was a hit!  In fact, the business was growing so fast, that Sheila quit her job to manage the business end.

By the end of the third year, I had a network of knitters all over the globe.  Though I spent more and more of my time designing and managing my staff, I still kept some time to cater to my celebrities.  I couldn't actually do the knitting anymore, so I had selected the best of my knitters to produce these unique garments.  The business was now worth more than 100 million dollars!  All because I got bored living the domestic life.  

My life as a man was a distant memory now.  One day, Sheila asked me if I ever considered getting a sex change operation.  We discussed it for a while and finally decided that it was the right time to do this.  Sheila loved me far more as a woman then she had as a man, and I considered my self a woman anyway.  Getting the time to do this was going to be tough.  I worked like a dog to get ahead in my design work and delegated the management chores to a few of my most trusted employees.  I managed to clear 8 weeks from my schedule, so I told everyone I was going for a much needed vacation.  Sheila and I didn't tell anyone where we were going.  

The clinic we chose had a reputation for being very discrete.  It was nestled in the mountains of Switzerland at a spot not mentioned on any maps.  We arrived by helicopter after flying into Luzern.  The surgery was performed the next day and I spent the next 2 weeks in bed, recovering.  After that long in bed, it took a while to get my strength back, but physiotherapy helped.  the surgery had been a complete success and I was discharged after 6 weeks.  This left 2 weeks for Sheila and I to do some sight-seeing.  We traveled to some quaint little villages in Switzerland and then headed into France.  We made our way slowly to Paris, reaching there just at the end of our 8 week vacation.

The first thing we did was check up on our Paris operations.  Everything was in good shape and a conference call with the rest of the management staff, around the world, brought up no significant issues.  They were all waiting for some new designs, though, so it was time to get back to it.  We flew back to San Francisco the next day and spent the next couple of days recovering from jet lag.  Then I went to my design studio and got to work.  Our excursions, after I was released from the clinic, had provided me with great new inspirations, so in the first week, I was able to come up with a whole group of new designs.

In less than 4 years I had gone from being a man in a dead end job to being a fashion designer and successful business woman.  I still have dreams of Sheila catching me cross dressed, but now the dreams have a very happy ending.