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This is a question Cross Dressing

The last time I wore a skirt was not as liberating or exciting as it could have been. I'd lost a drinking game and had been given the task of running from the bar, across the road and back again whilst wearing a friends clothes as a forfeit.

Easy, I thought. I hadn't reckoned on them getting every person in the pub to block my way back to the bar whilst I was outside. I had to FIGHT my way through. And I'm not much of a fighter.

Your own thoughts on cross dressing for fun, pleasure or profit are most welcome.

(, Thu 15 Mar 2007, 15:05)
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Girl for day (come on - it was inevitable)
A few years ago, I was in the improbable position of actually being a girl for one day. What could I do with this unique opportunity? Attempt to fully understand the female psyche? Make men understand both sides? Stay in bed and play with my tits all day? No - I decided to go out, get trashed and be a slut.

I should add that I really was girl, with all the biological parts. And what wonderful parts they were, too. Large, firm breasts that stood alone and required no bra; a pert arse that swelled provocatively and just cried out for doggy, and - I admit it - a good, tight snatch that could have peeled a banana if I'd wanted it to.

What to wear, what to wear? I tried to think what men like, and decided not to be subtle. So - miniskirt, self-supporting black stockings, a miniscule g-string and a skintight top that barely held my tits in. I got my sister to make me up, a bit heavy on the eyes and something semi-slutty for my lips. I should point out that as part of this highly unlikey transformation, I had actually developed a yearning for cock. Not just a yearning - more of a consuming desire.

The first pub we hit, I felt what it's like to be devoured by men's eyes the way I had always looked at women. I could virtually feel them undressing me. My nipples perked up (which caused more attention) and I fel my newly-acquired clitoris flaring up in those see-through pants. And I realised I didn't have to do a thing. Just stand there and look pretty and wait. No need to play cool or coy - I'd be a man again the next day.

A guy walks up to me. He's handsome, but a total tosser and obviously a hit with a certain kind of girl. Never mind. "Let's forget the chat-up," I said to him. "Shall we just fuck?"

His was was a mask of amazement, but I took him by the hand and led him to the ladies, where I dragged him into a cubicle and levered his cock out of his jeans. It swelled in my hands and I helped it along by swallowing it. The sense of power over the guy was phenomenal. He should have been on HIS knees. In fact ... "On your knees!" I instructed, I sat on the toilet and he ripped my panties clean off before applying an electric tongue to my drenched hole. I can tell you, the sensation was something special and put me in the mood for a vigorous shafting.

So I stood up, turned around and bared my delectable arse at him. He soon got the message. The feeling as he pushed his considerable tool into my sweet, tight snatch was unbelievable. Each thrust was a shudder of ecstasy up my spine and I reached down to grab his balls as he pumped me relentlessly. Just as sounded like he was going to come, I slipped off his cock and took the glistening rod deep in my throat to feel the hot jizz gushing down in salty spurts.

But I hadn't yet come. "Have you got any mates? Go and get them!" I demanded, looking at my watch. In no time I had a mouthful of cock and another in my ass. I came like a hurricane and left the club with jizz in my hair and my 'reputation' ruined. Time well spent, in retrospect.
(, Thu 15 Mar 2007, 17:19, closed)

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