Underappreciated Vices That Crossdressers Fancy (At least this one)

Victorias Secret camisole and Wolford tights

I seem to be doing a lot of thinking when it comes to slipping into my silken garments and looking at that bright shade of lipstick in the mirror. Oh, the philosophies of life as a crossdresser, way outside the norm, never boring and always making me question myself. Without regrets of course!

Since there is no official day of the crossdresser, that I’m aware of anyway, I’d like to dedicate this to the little vices that are appreciated, solely by us and only by us. OK maybe not all, but if you ever donned panties for twenty years and don’t have a vagina, then you’ll know what I mean.

Favorite Color

Sure, your favorite color as He-Man you may be blue or black but the girly side craves another shade. Am I right or is it just me? Pinks, pastels and anything prefixed with “baby” all of a sudden become a part of your world (and maybe those twenty-year-old panties). Call it our society’s labels with masculine and feminine colors but I just happen to love fuscia on everything from nail polish to my lace teddy.

For some reason, pantyhose “suntan” seems to resonate with me as well. Not totally feminine but could be just a crossdresser thing?

Slippers

I absolutely love to throw on a pair of heels while in my attire. The higher the better. Since my sessions as my girl self tend to from a few hours to maybe the whole day, prancing around in those heels can be quite hard on those dainty feet. Actually, if you can last all day in them then, congratulations, you ARE a woman.

So maybe after a maximum half hour clickity clacking, I like to step on out of those and into a pair of comfy slippers. I’m not talking the unisex variety either but kind with furry embellishments and, of course, in your favorite color. Why yes, thank you, I do have a bright fuscia pair.

Old Lingerie

Ever rummage through that disheveled drawer and come across a piece of lingerie, a pair of pantyhose or those aforementioned panties that is at least a decade old (or even two). You take it out, gloss over the old come stains and reminisce of those older orgasms of long ago. Sure, what  the hell, give it a soft gentle wash, let it dry and then try it on for old time’s sake. You’ll never feel younger and you’ll probably remember where that newer stain came from.

Oh, and the picture is a Victorias Secret camsisole bought twenty years ago which I still have (along with the matching thong panties).

Your Sixteen-Year-Old Body

If you are lucky enough to dig out some femme digs from your teenage years, after slipping into them you’d realize the slim little beauty queen you were from way back. Then you’d wish you could have skipped the steaks and beer for the past couple of decades. Oh, imagine if I could have that body back… why all the cute crossdressers would just flock in droves for piece of me (or is that meat). Anyway, about that diet…

The Finger

No, I don’t mean the gesture when someone gives you “that look.” I’m talking about the lubed up right or left middle finger used as a second weapon of pleasure. Give yourself a nice hot shower or bath and be sure to get it extra clean down there. Oreo crumbs can kill the mood if you know what I mean.

Then while business as usual with one hand, the other can poke around for a little prostate rub. Talk about an explosion later, leaving reminders in your lingerie for when you open that drawer again in twenty years.

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Posted in CD Diary
9 comments on “Underappreciated Vices That Crossdressers Fancy (At least this one)
  1. Lisa T says:

    Hi Sheery, This post really struck a nerve with me. I guess when it comes to my collection of femme clothes I’m a true hoarder. I think I still have almost everything I ever owned, and love to look at them from time to time and fondly recall the exciting times I had while wearing them. One item in particular is a baby pink, spandex mini skirt. You’re so right on when you speak about the significance of color to our femme identities, and I’ve always loved to wear anything pink just to feel extra femme. This skirt was always too small for me and barely covered my bum, so as much as I loved it, wearing it out, even to a club or private party, was never an option. I did become a staple of my private play sessions, so much so that, even after many washings, it’s so covered with cum stains that you can hardly tell what color it was! One of the great things about private play in our nice safe closets is that we can wear things that just make us feel good even if it’s not something we would ever wear in the presence of others. That little pink mini sure did it for me, but the story of how I acquired it is an exciting memory all it’s own. Since it’s getting late and I’ve already rambled on here, I’ll post the story as another comment, as I think you might enjoy it.
    Lisa

  2. Lisa T says:

    This is going to be a long story, so I think I’ll tell it in a couple of instalments. First I’ll set the stage: It’s the mid 80’s and my pantyhose fetish which I’ve had since my teens has been steadily growing into full fledged crossdressing. Aside from a large collection of pantyhose, I also have some lingerie and a couple of pairs of heels. My wife was amazingly tolerant in those days, and I was able to dress around the house, but stopping at the bedroom. This was long before the internet so the only way to see what was going on outside of my small town closet was a couple of tranny porn magazines which I managed to find. No matter how much I enjoyed my dressing activities I still had intense feelings of isolation and guilt. Even buying clothes was much more stressful than it is now, as clerks in stores would look down their noses and ask in a disapproving tone: “Are you buying that for your wife?” They seemed to be on a mission to keep the community safe from perverts like us. I’m sure I wasn’t alone in my desire to find any kind of positive reinforcement, some way to be accepted by someone as anything other than a demented pervert. On the back page of one of those Tranny mags was an ad for a place in New York city called Lee’s Mardi Gras Boutique, touted to be a store dedicated to men who like to dress as women with everything needed for complete transformation. I began to fantasize about what it would be like to be in a wonderful place like that! Imagine being able to shop for lovely femme things where everyone there knew I was buying them for myself and was totally supportive! That fantasy was as exciting to me then as any sexual fantasy I ever had, and as fate would have it, it would soon come true, well sort of…

  3. Lisa T says:

    The large company my wife worked for decided to send her to New York city for a week long conference and was putting her up in a 5 star hotel. When she discovered that the conference would end at noon on Friday, she suggested that I take Friday off and come down to the city to walk around and go and get a nice supper before returning home. Of course the first thing I thought about was paying a visit to Lee’s Boutique. I hoped that I could go there on Friday morning while she was still at the conference, so I took the train down to the city after work on Thursday. The hotel was amazing; I had never been in such a fancy place! On Friday morning my wife left for the conference and I called the boutique only to find out that they didn’t open until noon! Damn! Now if I wanted to go to the boutique, I would have to do it when I was supposed to be walking around with my wife. Well I wanted to go there badly, so when my wife got back from the conference, I told her what I wanted to do, and though she wasn’t thrilled about it, she said she didn’t mind walking around by herself for a while. So we checked out of the hotel and checked our bags and headed for Greenwich Village where she wanted to walk around. The boutique was about forty blocks away, which didn’t look too far on the map. We agreed on a time to meet back where we were and I started off on my adventure. It was one of the first sunny warm days of spring and it seemed like everyone in the city was out walking the streets. By the time I was able to walk through the crowded sidewalk to the half way point, I knew I was in big trouble! I’m not a “city person” and I had seriously underestimated how long it would take me to walk those forty blocks on those crowded sidewalks. I knew that if I was going to get back to our meeting place on time, I was going to have to turn back soon. This was long before cell phones and I had no way to contact her to tell her I was running late. What should I do? I was beginning to see my dream fade!

  4. Lisa T says:

    At this point I made a totally selfish decision: I kept going. I tried to pick up my pace as best I could, and as I got closer to the address, the crowds on the sidewalk thinned considerably, as I had moved into a more industrial area. By the time I got to the address there were few people on the streets. The building was what looked like an old warehouse, and the only identification as Lee’s Boutique was a sign in a second story window and a small label next to the small door off the street. Now I was really getting excited as I was finally here! I entered the door into a small, dimly lit entry way with an elevator door. I pushed the button for the elevator and waited… and waited. I pushed the button again and again waited. After what seemed like an eternity, I heard the elevator moving. When the door finally opened there was a middle aged man inside who asked me in an annoyed manner why I kept ringing the bell. It turns out it was an old manually operated elevator, and the button just rang a bell upstairs to tell them someone was waiting to come up. Someone from the boutique had to get into the elevator, manually close the door, and throw a lever to make the elevator go down. On the brief ride to the second floor in the elevator, my heart really started pounding with excitement! In my fantasy, I had imagined a wonderful, sweet smelling store filled with beautiful femme things, and staffed with beautiful tgirls, anxious to show me all the things my heart desired. When the man opened the door, I got a little reality check. There was one large, warehouse like, room, and the only person working there was the middle aged man, who was already a bit annoyed with me, and who didn’t seem to be too impressed with a young CD in boy clothes and with a full, bright red beard. The good news was that the room was absolutely filled with everything a CD could desire! There was an area for make up and wigs, a wall display of the sexiest shoes and boots I had ever seen. Rows of racks of lingerie, blouses, skirts, dresses, and a shelf for pantyhose, and stockings! It was almost overwhelming, and my head was spinning as I tried to take it all in. I was in CD paradise BUT, I had no time! It was already well past the time I was supposed to meet my wife, and I could imagine her getting more worried and angry by the minute! Talk about extacy and agony…

  5. Lisa T says:

    Well as long as I was there I was going to buy something, so I started to look around. It soon became obvious that the $50 I had managed to squirrel away to spend there wasn’t going to buy very much! It was, after all a specialty boutique in NYC, and nothing was cheap! Of course I was drawn to the pantyhose, and then thought, why should I spend my money on something I could get anywhere. I did spot a queen size pair of black fishnet pantyhose, and since fishnets had not yet become popular again, I decided to get them. They had some sexy dresses, but all were beyond my budget, so I moved on to a rack of skirts. First I found a black flared mini in a wet look material in size XL…things were looking up! Then I spotted the hottest pink spandex mini, and it was like a dream come true! It was a size large and had a lot of stretch, but I wasn’t sure it would fit. Just then I heard a voice from behind me: “Do you need help?” The owner/clerk had been standing behind me, probably to make sure I didn’t steal anything. I said: “I really love this skirt, but am not sure it will fit”. Then he asked me in a very matter of fact way: “Are you wearing panties”? I was almost stunned by that question, but managed to answer: ” I’m wearing pantyhose”. ” Well, if you’re really careful, you can try it on”. he said. OMG! How incredibly exciting and affirming this brief conversation was! What an amazing and wonderful place this was. I could be a crossdresser, I could admit to a perfect stranger that I was wearing pantyhose, I could shop for and buy and even try on the most beautiful things, and feel totally accepted! My head was reeling with emotion but I collected myself quickly as the clerk lead me to a doorway enclosed by a curtain and into a small storeroom/dressing room. It was piled with boxes and had full length mirrors on each end. To my surprise there was another CD in there with a pile of things to try on. He had just taken off his pants and was wearing pink stockings with a matching pink garter belt and panties, and he seemed a bit uncomfortable, and annoyed that his privacy had been disturbed. At that point all I could do was apologize and say I just wanted to try on this skirt and I would be quick. I quickly took off my shoes and pants, and carefully slid that beautiful pink skirt over my pantyhose covered legs and up into place. It was a tight fit, and the small slit on the back was spread wide, but the slinky spandex against my pantyhose felt incredibly good. I had to buy it! As I had no time to revel in the feeling, I took the skirt off and got dressed, apologized to the other CD again, and thought, great, now all I have to do is pay and hot foot it back to meet my wife. However, when I emerged from the dressing room I got another surprise, three trannys had entered the store and were at the counter having a conversation with the owner/clerk. From the way they were chatting it was obvious that they were regular customers. I tried not to stare at them as I approached the counter to pay, but they were the first TV’s I had ever seen in person. I was in awe, but I still needed to pay for my things and get on my way. The problem was that the clerk seemed to have no interest in pausing his conversation to let me pay. I must have looked so impatient, or I was creeping them out with my stare, as one of them said: “Oh take care of him”. The clerk looked annoyed but rang me up and took my money, and then resumed his conversation. But now I needed someone to take me down in the elevator. Now I was having visions of my wife at the local police station reporting me missing. As badly as I wanted to get there earlier, now I really needed to get out!

  6. Lisa T says:

    I must have looked desperate pacing around the elevator because one of the tgirls came over and said: “Oh I’ll take you down if you need to go” I thanked her and down we went. How I would have loved to have a conversation with her and hear about her trans life, but there was just no time. I thanked her again and said good bye as I exited the elevator and started to make my way back to where I was supposed to meet my wife. I don’t remember much about the walk as I was still on cloud nine and trying to process the amazing experience I just had. As I got closer to the meeting place I began to worry about what kind of reception I would get, but as it turned out, my wife was so relieved to see I was there and alright that she forgave me for being so late. I wished I could have told her all about what had just happened, but I knew she didn’t want to hear anything about it, as a matter of fact, I’ve never shared this story with anyone before. That’s the real problem with being a closet crossdresser, no matter how much private pleasure we may get, our inability to share this important part of who we are and interact in person with others who accept us as we are and it leaves a hole that’s almost impossible to fill. The internet helps but it’s still impersonal. That ill fitting pink spandex mini skirt was a reminder to me of that brief time that, in spite of all the trials and tribulations of that day, was an incredibly affirming experience. I did go on to many other personal experiences, but that first one will always be special. Thank you for indulging me and letting me share this very long story. I hope there might be something here that others can relate to.
    Lisa

  7. Sheery says:

    @LisaT Thank you so much for sharing your story. And a very good one as well… I can actually picture the excitement of the store and am surprised you could even talk!

    Actually your story brings back old memories of me and my little escapades, kind of forgotten until now. I’ll have to write about some of these soon…

    Thank you and sorry to get back so late… X Sheery

  8. kirsty says:

    Iove the story & your 20 year old satin slip love the nylons & your pose too.i do the same with my old nylons if not too damaged sprawl out on the couch & relax

  9. Sheery says:

    There’s nothing like old nylons that you don’t care if they get damaged further or dirty. Those I wear while doing chores.

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