A Possible Meeting?

Well, the other evening I had a phone call with another gal like me whom had contacted me after I'd placed an ad on craigslist.org, the talk was tentative but after admitting you're a man who loves to wear women's clothing to each other talk comes easier.


Vanessa called like she said she would in an e-mail where she also sent me her phone number so I would recognize it was her when she called. We seemed to have a similar philosophy about dressing and when I complimented her eye make up in the photo she sent she told me it was done by a woman who lives near her.


We are going to try to meet up soon but typically, her Friday evenings are free and mine aren't for the near future (sigh!)

You Are What You Wear

As a self-described cross dresser I, by my very nature choose to wear women’s clothing for reasons that satisfy me psychologically and sexually. The idea and act of dressing up sexually excites me but I also enjoy a blissful calming state as I don women’s undergarments, makeup, heels and hose.

By necessity and choice I spend a the majority of my time in garb appropriate to my sex and society, perhaps then the release I find in cross dressing is so much sweeter for it. A while back I came to the realization that whenever I spend some time with my family I always feel the urge to dress up in female attire as soon as I can possibly be alone. Perhaps it’s a need to express my true (but hidden) self.

This played out again last night as I returned home from a family vacation. I love my family and we get along great but I’m subject to the need to conform to their lifestyle and way of thinking when I’m around them, so that the first opportunity I get alone and in my apartment, I pull out the pantyhose and high heels.

Even though it was after midnight when I got home from the airport it was divinely wonderful to put on a pair of black pantyhose and slip into my sling-back pumps.


Even so…

While vacationing at the shore we passed a nearby outlet mall and sign for one of the stores instantly caught my eye. It was an outlet store for Leggs, Hanes and Bali. Two days later I slipped away before dinner and drove over to the shop hoping they might have one of my favorite styles of hosiery.

I went to the store hoping to find cheap pricing on the “Just My Size” black opaque tights that I constantly wear around the house. Unfortunately they didn’t have the tights but I did purchase some of their off-black control top pantyhose at four for ten dollars. It was liberating to walk into the store in my street clothes, peruse the goods, ask a clerk for help and make my purchase without incident or awkwardness.

Touché.

Dating Update

Nothing, a big fat nothing. That's what has resulted from all the ads I placed on craigslist.org and the TGBeauties site.

There was a cross dressing gal who contacted me from craigslist who had great looking legs and was bi-curious but after a few e-mails nothing.

And then there was a guy from craigslist who sounded promising until he said he was going to call me and then didn't. I wrote him an e-mail the next day to inquire and it cam bouncing back as an invalid address. Huh?

One American's Dream

The artwork behind me in the photo was created for an
art show called One American Dream. It was sponsored
by Grace Church Van Vorst and was a part of Jersey
City's 2005 GLBT Pride celebration.

My art was featured in the official program for the
celebration and was mentioned in a New York Times
review of the show.

When I learned of the title of the show the idea for
the artwork came naturally...

"I DON'T WANT TO BE A WOMAN, I JUST WANT TO DRESS LIKE ONE."

To Be Realized?

I greet him at the door, he enters and I walk up the stairs to my apartment in front of him giving him a good look at my ass and my hose covered legs. He’s brought a bottle of white wine, we open it in the kitchen and then take our glasses into the next room. Some jazz is playing low and scented candles provide a relaxed ambience. I cross the room and sit on the sofa, patting the seat next to me. He joins me there never taking his eyes off my legs. Sitting next to me he tells me he likes my shoes I smile and thank him, telling him how handsome he looks in his suit coat. He blushes and takes a sip of his wine. We begin with small talk, "Where are you from?" "What do you do?" His eyes travel hungrily up and down my body, but always returning to my dark nylon covered legs.

The small talk has relaxed him a bit and then I ask, “Have you ever been with anyone like me before?” the question has caught him off guard and he sputters before lowering his eyes and answering, “No,” then quickly adding, “But I’ve always wanted to.” His face is bright red and I give a wicked little smile at having caused this. We continue talking but now I steer the subject towards sex. He’s shy but confesses to an encounter with one of his friends when he was a teen. I almost like watching him squirm but I have another agenda tonight.

He keeps staring at my legs and when finally there is a long pause in the conversation I ask him, “Would you like to feel how smooth they are?” He nearly spills his wine setting it hastily on the coffee table, and then tentatively touches my nylon covered knee. Slowly he begins to move his hand back and forth along my knee and lower leg. I lean back into the pillows of the sofa and uncross my legs. He takes his hand away but only for a moment as he shifts his position on the sofa, then it’s back on my knee and inching higher.

I ask if he likes how it feels and his eyes look into mine, he nods yes and then nearly under his breath says, “I like it very much.” I reach out with my right hand and run my fingers through his hair, then gently push him forward as I ask, “Would you like a taste?” In an instant he is on his knees in front of me and my ankle is in his hands. He begins with tentative kisses and then is pressing his lips into my hose covered flesh. His tongue travels over the top of my foot and up to my ankle as he delicately holds my high heel in his hand. Then his mouth is moving up my leg and sending shivers down my spine.

Watching him I see his hidden passion set free, he is gently making love to my pantyhose covered legs and the tent in his trousers is proof of his desire. As his lips reach my knee I slowly and slightly part my legs and he buries his face between my thighs. His breathing is harder and his hands are traveling up and down my legs from my heels to the hem of my skirt. I raise one foot and feel the hardness between his legs. He looks up into my eyes and I nod my assent.

Slowly his fingers begin to trace a path beneath my skirt…