A Strange Dream

The other night I had a strange dream. I entered a bedroom at a house party, and on the bed was what I first thought to be a thin woman with a long manly nose, wearing a black teddy, and barely containing her ample, alabaster breasts. Then somehow, I recognized her to be myself. I asked her if she liked being female, and she answered softly, 'Yes.' I pressed her to confirm, because I knew that she used to be a man. 'I love it!' she answered, purring like a big cat. I then proceeded to make out with her.

I'm not sure that she was really me, but I felt like I was controlling her like a puppet. The words she spoke were mine. The thoughts and ideas behind them were mine. These thoughts were much more complex than the words might imply. They paused on how my Mistress would feel if I said anything but yes, and added that I loved it not only to please her, but because I realized that it was true. That's when I started necking.

Then the dream dissolved, and I don't remember anything else.

I think that while I fucked my fiancee that night, I imagined sucking cock.

Bathing Suits

There's something particularly sexy and feminine about women's swimwear. I could never quite put my finger on it. Lingerie is wonderful and sexy, too, but somehow, it doesn't make me quiver with desire like a nice bathing suit.

When I was a bachelor, I used to have no fewer than 5 bathing suits. I had a blue one-piece, which I wore more often than anything else, a red one-piece which was quite a bit too small, a hot pink string bikini, a silver bikini meant for serious swimmers, complete with a full bra, and a white thong bikini with lacy trim that covered practically nothing. I had lots of other stuff, too, including panties, a corset, stockings, garter belts, and a patent leather mini-dress. I wore all of it extensively, if privately, but especially the blue bathing suit.

There was nothing special about it. For some reason, I always went back to it. I don't think it necessarily made me feel more feminine than, say, the outfit I wore with the mini-dress (usually my black corset, black satin panties, garter belt, and fishnet stockings), but it was much more simple. It was a single item of girlie goodness that I could slip into and instantly feel like I was betraying my gender. The other stuff always made me feel like I needed to put on more: panties alone were never enough without a bra, and the garter belt would always get messy when my feminine fantasies became too much to bear. The one-piece bathing suit was excruciatingly, unmistakably female with very little effort.

Sadly, I had to dispose of all of it when my girlfriend moved in. I certainly didn't want her to find it. Now I secretly wear her stuff, but unfortunately, she has only two-piece bathing suits. Granted, when we met she only had two, and now she has five, but I desperately miss wearing a one-piece. There's something amazing about that soft, tight fabric, stretched over my waist, shaping me like a girl. Someday, I will have another.

Getting in the mood

It seems that every time I'm alone at home, I can't help but get excited. My first impulse is to rummage through my girlfriend's dainties for something sexy to wear. If I know I have lots of time, I'll fantasize about it for hours, usually by writing dirty stories. You've probably guessed already that she's gone now. I think I'm going to wear her bikini again. I swear that I've worn it much more often than she has!