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Seven Things I Hate as a Crossdresser

Unfortunately, I’m in one of those negative moods today. Enough so to make me hate everything… well almost. Slipping into some Wolford tights, however, just isn’t the same, seemingly lacking in joy of digging into my femme side to ease the bad vibes. I don’t think new heels could even cure my case of get the hell away from me today.

So, in honor of negative bullshit, I feel it is my duty to call out on the seven things I really hate as a crossdresser, not in any particular order. They all pretty much suck, er, I mean can go suck.

1. Hair, That Which is Not on Thy Head

Have you ever shaved all of your body hair? It is a fucking tedious process that takes a minimum of two hours. And don’t get me started if the Remington isn’t fully charged. Afterwards, though, is a bliss of silky smooth delight, sliding around on your sheets and your pantyhose not having to hold back the wild forage overgrowing your crotch.

Then a week later, back to hairy and hours trimming. Maybe this time, I’ll remember to charge the damn shaver.

We’re not even talking about the beard either. Not even Estee Lauder can hide that 5 o’ clock shadow when you doll yourself up. Oddly enough, some other Eurovision winning singers can pull it off with class. Just don’t let this become a trend though.

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My Rant For The Day, Men Really Creep Me Out

In case you haven’t heard by now, I just love to play dress up. Just like my older sister probably made me do when I was half her size. I bet I could even win at that right now if we were to have a contest for the queen of the family. Unfortunately, only the sexy, sultry crossdresser (yours truly) has the real fun at this in my family.

So to try and be as sexy femme as possible, I exercise to stay fit and trim, shave everywhere possible and try to adopt feminine mannerisms that I can turn on like a switch, going from rugged male to sweet little Sheery. Then, of course, I top it all off by squeezing into that tight fitting lingerie and/or sexy club dress, high-end pantyhose (e.g. Wolford tights), wig, makeup and my newish stiletto heels.

Of course we don’t just want to have that transformed beauty in front of the mirror all to ourselves now do we? That’s why we grab the camera and snap a few shots, maybe a naughty one or two, and share with our good crossdresser/TV friends across the social networks. Nothing is more seemingly cherished than when you get those “hot ass” and “love your pantyhose” comments that you feel reassured in your feminine role, specifically when they come from other girlies like ourselves.

Then we get those same comments from the other side. Those that are either too lazy to dress up, don’t want to or just look at us crossdressing sisters like pieces of meat with a loose back door. Plus you get the feeling somehow that you know they are currently wanking to death behind that creepy avatar smile of theirs waiting for your reply.

Men, I’m talking about you.

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