I almost jerked off in the bathroom but didn’t, thinking I might be able to talk Dad into taking care of it for me. So I just took a piss with a rag...ng hard on, which, as we all know, is always a good time.I walked back in the sunroom and closed the door behind me. I readjusted my hard on so it was more noticeable so Dad might do something about it. But he was passed out in his chair. His beer can was laying in a small pool of beer on the floor. His cock was still raging hard under his flannel. The suit was navy with a comfortable skirt and a beautiful jacket thathad interesting but subtle embroidery at the neckline. I put on a pairof navy pantyhose that I knew looked great with my navy pumps. Afterzipping up the skirt I put on the pumps and the jacket.Finally I added a pair of gold clip on earrings (I had to do somethingabout these ears!), a simple gold necklace and a thin gold bracelet. Ofcourse these weren't really gold but they were pretty.Going to the mirror I was again. . I’d settle for coffee and toast.A step and movement at the hatch.“Ah ... you’re awake,” he said.Two mugs of steaming coffee, one in each hand. How he managed to keep them level with the rocking and rolling his boat was doing I’ll never know. I’d been at sea or living aboard for 12 years and I know I couldn’t do it. At the very best I could fetch and carry half a mug and not spill it.“Naked or sweet?”“Brand?”“You never heard of it,” he said. “Black or cream and sugar?” he asked again.“Ah,” I. Butsome months later when she came home early and found me wearing a plainblouse and a denim skirt, long hair pulled back in a bow, perfectlypresentable I thought, she was shocked and disgusted. She decidedshe'd married an effeminate man, and felt betrayed. I told her my pasthistory, about the joy I felt when I when I was pretending to be agirl, about my desire to be more than a husband to her. But thatdidn't help at all.After much grief we did reach an understanding. I could prance.