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)
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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The Good, The Bad, and the Fugly Woman
Kind of related, but probably amusing.
Many years ago, pretty much the year after leaving the continuous drink and drug binge I like to refer to as "the time i was in further education", a mate and I had been out on the lash for much of the day following a failed job interview (stinking of 5 pints of dutch courage, weed and the remnants of bedding down on a mtes floor).
Walking back home via a road that acts as a sort of border between suburbia, and a hellish council estate, a group of three youths ran up, one with a knife held threateningly at my gut, the other two coralling off my mate.
To explain, my mates 6 year over indulgence in weed has left him rather slim, he also at the time had long hair, and was wearing a long coat, from behind, appearing to be a tall lass, imagine our would be muggers suprise when this lass, spins round to regard our would be assailants, sporting a full face beard and eyes with the level of blood shottedness reserved for those of Keith Richard level inibriation.
They didn't get a penny incidentally, once we realised they weren't mates of ours messing about, my mate involked his "tramp style" kung fu while i beat my pen knife wielding yob about the head with my NRA.
We only had a fiver...
That was us night caps sorted!
Length, Girth, Skill?
A Jedi needs not these things!
( , Fri 16 Mar 2007, 15:02, Reply)
Kind of related, but probably amusing.
Many years ago, pretty much the year after leaving the continuous drink and drug binge I like to refer to as "the time i was in further education", a mate and I had been out on the lash for much of the day following a failed job interview (stinking of 5 pints of dutch courage, weed and the remnants of bedding down on a mtes floor).
Walking back home via a road that acts as a sort of border between suburbia, and a hellish council estate, a group of three youths ran up, one with a knife held threateningly at my gut, the other two coralling off my mate.
To explain, my mates 6 year over indulgence in weed has left him rather slim, he also at the time had long hair, and was wearing a long coat, from behind, appearing to be a tall lass, imagine our would be muggers suprise when this lass, spins round to regard our would be assailants, sporting a full face beard and eyes with the level of blood shottedness reserved for those of Keith Richard level inibriation.
They didn't get a penny incidentally, once we realised they weren't mates of ours messing about, my mate involked his "tramp style" kung fu while i beat my pen knife wielding yob about the head with my NRA.
We only had a fiver...
That was us night caps sorted!
Length, Girth, Skill?
A Jedi needs not these things!
( , Fri 16 Mar 2007, 15:02, Reply)
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