Quote by lucky64
Not sure it is crossdressing when you live 24/7 as a girl but I love female clothing, the sexier the better[/quoteI
If a sobriquet one must use, at this juncture Transvestite seems more appropriate
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Marie_SexyCD
Over 90 days ago
Male, 58
United States
Forum
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My first foray into cross dressing began at age 12, wearing a pair of cotton panties I'd snatched from my oldest stepsister. She caught me wearing them, she then went stark raving mad screaming about it through the house. Long episode shortened, i was humiliated by stepsister, how disgusted her outrage portrayed and stepmother, who tried to psychoanalyze me for 4 hrs. Ended up alone and crying on the balcony attached to the living room.
Part 2 of my clothing/persona timeline: As a teen, up to age 18, I would sneak around laundry rooms of this large, 200 unit, apt. complex i lived in and grab nice girlie clothes to wear under my male armor. Any female that I lived around during this time was sure to be devoid of at least one article of wear. In my sexual encounters with males, I'd always be the, I guess, bottom, female,submissive partner. That was how it was with my 1st encounter and I'd decided then/there, that I enjoyed pleasing these guys, loved to know pleasured them. And I think as time went on, in gradual sometimes hesitant stages, I was desirous of presenting a more feminine persona to the world.
THREE !!!!!!!!!!!!! : At 18.5 years of age, I was summarily tossed out into the adult world, akin to momma bird pushing hatchlings out of the nest so they learn to fly or die earthbound forever more. Won't dwell here, suffice to say that I quickly learned that my radical little redefinition of self was NOT only UNACCEPTABLE for the most part but might be met with VIOLENCE against my person for no other reason than difference I shut that operation off and ...............
4; Spent the next decade of existence entirely playing the ALPHA MALE guise which society found to be totally compatible, within THEIR definition ! Enough said here also
Episode 5: 'Ten years have got behind you......' Pink Floyd, Time (1973).
Yes, the next X annual permutations of excited protons proved to not be remarked upon either as my life revolved around work, work, work. But made good little sum
Tis 'now is the eve of our (my) discontent..' Shakespeare, Richard III (1594).
V years on and I have resumed that which I refused myself long ago. Not just 'undercover' lingerie, OH NO, NO, NO !!! Full on dressing with makeup, while this expression had been sporadic and fraught with nervous quiver when I was younger ( to a lesser degree at this advance of time), staying fully smooth, no eyebrows, sometimes still sporting nail polish or bit of eyeliner at work the next day.....
'And on, and on,on' Black Sabbath, Heaven and Hell' (1980).
So I continue...........
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I absolutely love giving a guy head. Have loved from the very first time, feeling him grow in my mouth, his length inching down my throat. I, instinctively ?, applied vacuum to his shaft , his soft moans of Mmmmm replaced by the ragged sharp intake of breath. His motionless posture now one of active gyration, I choke once, twice and he pulls back asking if I'm ok, knowing it's my first time. I feel soft tears roll down my cheeks and I nod YES and open my mouth once again. Sometime during the resumption of our sexual endeavor, I realize that if I swallow before the gag reflex cuts in, he effortlessly slides further down my throat. My nerves are jangling, humming like those huge high voltage lines that carry 100's of thousands of volts. Waves of pleasure surge through my body as he continues to fuck my mouth, each plunge brings forth a desire for more, the sensation of my throat muscles wrapped around his hot rod, the slap of his scrotum upon my chin, his quickening pace and guttural vocal emanations all serve to bring my libido to a boil. His precum starts dribbling, I clamp harder with my lips and as he starts cumming I pull him close by the thighs, swallowing him whole, feeling that tube pulsing with each jet of cum, till he empties into my throat. When he pulls out, a slow Ahhhhhhh escapes his mouth, I realize that I came too (without touching myself). ZFor all those reasons do I love giving bjs
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slowly awakening, to the sensation of his body wrapped around mine
heartbeat and breath, a shared rhythm
His return to consciousness, accompanied by warm lips upon my neck
The slow rising of sexual energy, the pleasure of sensuality
Adrenaline grands dumping, forget the coffee
Best part of waking up....The pleasure attained by pleasing
heartbeat and breath, a shared rhythm
His return to consciousness, accompanied by warm lips upon my neck
The slow rising of sexual energy, the pleasure of sensuality
Adrenaline grands dumping, forget the coffee
Best part of waking up....The pleasure attained by pleasing
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Most likely because straight guys fantasize too much watching two girls play, wishing themselves there. Of course this is a limited audience since there will always be a group of men (or women) for whom this is not a turn on (I imagine some bonehead thinking aloud, 'Damn one's enough to deal with, who'd want two !) Likewise with the two guys playing, except for these important differences: Straight guys are going to be offended because they can't wrap their mind around two men enjoying each other's sexual company, the visual representation of the sex between two men raises doubts about the socially acceptable male dominated society (even though most will be quick to offer the Greek model as the cornerstone for Western society- great lovers of boys them ancient Greeks !!), and finally some women might see such an act as an assault upon their right to the good looking nicely bodied men.
There are surely as many reasons as individuals upon the planet for finding that act offensive or the latter acceptable.
There are surely as many reasons as individuals upon the planet for finding that act offensive or the latter acceptable.
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I already know what some people are going to think about my preference for rather short skirts, so be it they are entitled to their opinion of both my character and the appropriateness of the attire.A snug banded pencil skirt or or the ones with smooth panel front/back and the ruched sides are my personal favorites for these reasons; 1) the curve hugging fit that accentuates butt and hips , 2) the narrow fall and bottom hem force a gal to take a shorter stride which enhances the feminine flow from the knee to the foot. I do admit to wearing them a bit shorter than what might be 'nice', just barely covering the lower curve of the buttocks. But by gosh, I feel sexy wearing them and playing a game of pool in these skirts gives the guys some distraction when i'm addressing the cue ball. To those who wish to express their views on my take i say, freely give your honest take on it, i will not be offended.
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I must have missed the original post, however since I CD on a regular basis perhaps I can add something new. To start, like most crossdressers I started early around 11. But because of an initial, and subsequent, encounters with other people I learned that it was probably better to keep this part of myself well hidden. Throughout my teenage years I was content to just wear panties under my male clothes and occasionally dress up at home when I was sure to be alone. None of the heterosexual guys that I had sex with as a teen seemed to be put off or repulsed by my female attire but this may just have been because I gave such good head. I rarely had episodes of purging or feeling 'bad' about wearing feminine clothes or wearing makeup, although I kept it under wraps and rarely dressed up for a guy during this period (and then only after he had expressed an interest in seeing me look more female).
After reaching the age of 18 and starting my adult life, I subsumed this part of myself and played the alpha-male role that society had defined for me. And, as could be expected, I entered into quite a few heterosexual relationships that never lasted long and resulted in confusion on my part. I was a good lover and paid considerable attention to my female companions and yet as one remarked, "The reason why I can't be with you is that there always seems to be a part I can't touch, will never reach". At the time I couldn't figure what she meant, so I just let it pass. During these years (18-25.5), I had sporadic cross dressing episodes while intoxicated where, after ejaculation, I would purge all feminine articles and feel ashamed about my behavior.
The next period covers from age 26-35 and comes after my move to California. Now here I saw and met people who were not ashamed to be who they wanted to be, weren't afraid to be out in public 'dressed'. Still I was hesitant to display my fondness for female attire, those old stereotypes were still embedded upon my consciousness, I still felt constrained by that definition box society had put me into. And once again my tendencies were brought to the surface through various means of intoxication. This time I had little inhibition about dressing or wearing makeup and being seen publicly (though it raised some eyebrows at my job there were already a couple of CDs there) since there where many others like me in the public view. But once I sobered up or came down I would feel guilty, purge and then try to go on living a 'normal' life. This period culminated in arrest and eventually becoming clean ( I had already quit the booze at 29).
Years 36-43: Except for occasional spurts of 'undercover' dressing, I didn't cross dress or even date. I just worked my ass off and resumed college courses (at age 40) in pursuit of my degree. Life felt well and good, my job was much less hectic, my bank account swelled into the tens of thousands dollar range (after 5 years), I kept a 3.5 GPA, was a member of the Honor's club and inducted into PTK. All that within my first two years at community college, you would have thought I had the tiger by the tail and the world at my feet. But keeping one's self or a part thereof submerged, especially when it's due to fear or social stigma, is unhealthy and definitely harmful to the individual.
I will finish this post sometime this week, Must end here for now as sleep is overcoming me.
Love and Peace, Marie