Can't you tell I'm a bisexual crossdresser

One of the reasons I enjoy writing this blog is that it serves as a diary of sorts. It is usually while slipping into my lady things and feeling the feminine vibes and then getting my inspiration into words. I also have a separate little black journal I write to although it is not quite as extensive in my (perverse) thoughts as it is here. The journal is also a lot harder to hide from people in case I’m dumb enough to leave it on the coffee table, which tends to happen on occasion.

(Note that you may have noticed a lapse in time last year. Just assume I was macho me the whole time, OK?)

Having this blog means I even like to go back and read my own writing to see what I was thinking about at some random point in time in the past, which tends to amuse me today. I ran across one entry in particular about my evolving bi-curious nature, though, which I felt the need to revisit since my sexuality has taken quite the detour from nearly ten years ago.

Back then I was coming to terms that I was wanting more than just “vanilla” hetero relationships and felt an urge to explore my sexuality. from the perspective of a woman, or kind of like one at least. I didn’t want to just dress up. I wanted to be the woman that gives the blowjob or takes a good pounding (albeit from the rear). It felt sexy and exciting to fantasize about it, plus it went everything against my rather conservative upbringing which just made it all the more exciting.

I asked, I received.

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