Diary: A Frolic

It's been a while since I've written anything here.  That last experience says it all, I think.  So here I sit, clad in my little black panties, a white bra, a garter belt, and white fishnet stockings.  I love it.  It always amazes me how tantalizing the thought of wearing women's clothing can be.  I think of all the things I could possibly wear, and I feel disappointed because I simply don't have the time or sexual energy to wear it all.  Sometimes, I feel so horny that I want to wear one thing, then I look at all my feminine stuff, and I suddenly can't make up my mind.  Do I want to wear this bathing suit, or the panties?  Oh, Goddess, how I wish I had a bikini right now!  And that thought just came to me this very instant.  How I used to love slipping into that green bikini at night, and become a girl again for a few minutes.  It was so soft, and skimpy. . .  But now, I'm wearing underwear, and I can't complain.  I only wish that I could do this forever.  I'm going to put on one of Mom's skirts, just for fun.

It's pretty decent.  But I need something much sexier.  I just love to think of women's clothes: all the silk, satin, lace, all the straps that curl around a calf, a thigh, a back. . . I just love to imagine myself naked, and suddenly strapped into an incredibly erotic feminine outfit that I must masturbate in, much to my masculinity's demise.  It just feels so good to completely abandon my masculinity, and try to become a girl.  I will do it now.