Even after revelling for too short a time last night, I felt like going right back into it. I rubbed it all over myself, and discovered that the garter belt is the most incredibly arousing thing I've ever worn, without a doubt. Never has anything made me feel so feminine. It's hard to explain, really. I have worn so many things, but the garter belt, which doesn't even cover my horrible penis actually made my night. I had feared about my lingerie not feeling all that great, but I think that the garter belt did it all for me. When I felt it, I could have sworn that I was female. It felt soooo sexy, I can't even describe it. The lace stretched on my hips, the thin, soft line holding up my stockings, the tight grip it had on my waist. . . Oh, I wanted it to last forever! When I was done, I felt so completely fulfilled that I didn't know what to do. It felt natural to snap off the garter, careful not to get my goo all over it. I cleaned up for a good while. The strange sensation of owning -- of wearing -- such dainty things. . . I even awoke in the middle of my sleep, horny as ever, desperately wanting to do it again, but not daring to make any more noise and commotion by rousing to get it agoin. So I just thought about my purchase and jerked myself back to sleep, my absurd member throbbing with relieved pain.
Today I read The Studhorse Man, and was perpetually aroused by its endless scenes of sex, animal or human. I wonder if it was the book that did it, or my anticipation of repeating last night's delights again tonight, and again tomorrow, again and again. . . I have thought of an interesting story describing the psychology behind the experience.
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