Sheery in DKNY bodysuit and pantyhose

As usual, I like to write here when I’m in the mood. That is, fully crossdressed and feeling like miss me. Over the years though, (and it has been quite a lot of years writing here) I’ve gone from slipping on some pantyhose and maybe lingerie to full-on shaving, makeup, wig, perfume and paying attention to those little details to transform myself into a more feminine persona. Oh yeah, and a spray of Chanel No. 5 really does help with that.

I know I’ve dived into this before but the more I’m transformed into a woman and see more of a woman in the mirror, I can’t help but to convince myself I just might actually pass for one. It’s definitely a feeling of empowerment and, not to mention, quite a high that I get off of. I don’t know, I would say kind of like an adrenaline rush I’m having even though I’m not actually out in public strutting my stuff if you know what I mean.

Of course all of this makes me incredibly horny yet in a way that truly distinct from my usual male self. It is just something about smelling that perfume or noticing that flavor from my lipstick or even noticing that warm silky feel of the pantyhose draping my legs. Or is it the wine? It is as if it is an experience of being an actual woman who feels turned on which, in itself, I can say is truly a pleasure I crave.

Then it’s moments like these that I occasionally break out the Fleshlight (with that little thing so I can mount it on my refrigerador) and desire nothing more than to be rammed in my backdoor, ironically, while standing in my heels and fucking my little toy. I have natural female-like boobs, too, (weird genetics) so I also like to pull down my bra and push my breasts together wishing a cock would squeeze right between and come right in the middle of them. Oh, and then I like to give a soft rub on my nipples which gives me mini-orgasms.

You can say my masturbation has evolved over the years.

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Sheery, chilling on the bed

I’ve recently touched on the subject of my ever-evolving bisexuality and, looking back, even my past foray into bi-curiousness nearly a decade ago. Oh my how I was the curious kid exploring sexuality in all its many strange facets. It’s hard for me to believe that there was a time in my life where I had the hard-core, church-abiding belief that sex with women was the only road that lied ahead. Of course, I had that little “likes to wear women’s underwear problem” at that young age which I had naively assumed would pass as an adult.

Um, yeah, I really envisioned back then, too, worrying about how many days I can go without shaving my legs these days.

But here I am in a comfortable camisole, pantyhose with panties over them, a satin robe, wig and a swipe of lipstick and quick spray of perfume. Oh, I forgot the glass of wine too. I like to “get in the mood,” even a little bit horny, so when I write here my thoughts come through clearly as my female alter ego. I enjoy feeling like a woman even if it doesn’t lead to sex or masturbation although, admittedly, I could use both at the moment.

My first thoughts in these free-spirited effeminate moments usually turn to fantasies involving other crossdressers. You know… like rubbing our nyloned legs together, smudging our lipstick together, lipstick staining our pantyhose or, ahem, other body parts. Then, of course, getting jackhammered in the back door until I’m unable to sit on anything for at least a day. I would say I’m still attracted to genetic women, however, sex with crossdressers take me to a whole other level of excitement.

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