I took a vacation recently with ___, mostly visiting family. In spite of the inclement weather, we had been encouraged to bring swimsuits, just in case. On our second day visiting, we had put our swimwear and towels in a tote bag, but were unable to use them. At the end of the day, our host had gone to bed before us, put away the towels we borrowed, and left our swimsuits neatly folded for us in the bathroom.
I took it upon myself to bring the swimsuits back to our room. I was becoming very excited, having a bikini in my hand with a legitimate reason. Because ___'s suitcase was packed to overflowing, and mine had so much space in it, without a word I tossed both our swimsuits into my suitcase. It was mildly exciting for me to have something feminine among my clothes. I fantasized that her bikini belonged to me.
Henceforth, every single day when I got dressed, I pawed the bikini in my suitcase, longing to wear it, but knowing that it would be practically impossible, and much more humiliating if I managed to get caught. My mind grew fertile with erotic scenarios. This kept me constantly aroused, which my unsuspecting wife benefited from often.
Still, every morning when I touched her bikini, my desire flared up as strong as before. It was becoming unbearable.
By the end of the first week, I arranged to be in our bedroom while she showered, and slipped on the panties for a few brief seconds. I couldn't hear the shower from our room, so I couldn't dare to put on the bra, and my heart pounded with the fear that she could walk back in at any time and catch me. The next day, I made sure of exactly when she stepped into the shower, knowing that it would at least give me a few minutes. This time, much to my satisfaction, I put on the bra as well. I took it off again almost immediately, but glowed with the thrill of having had it on with ___ so near by.
Of course this only whet my appetite for more daring stunts. One morning, as ___ slept soundly, I put on the panties as I sat on the floor by the bed. She lay no more than three feet away, and I dared to wear her panties! I was terrified, and again, only wore them for a few seconds. I had never taken such a risk before. It was both exhilarating and frustrating. I tried to redirect my pent-up fetish into normal matrimonial intimacy, but no matter how many times ___ and I made love, and as glorious and satisfying as it was, my need to be feminine simply would not go away.
Near the end of our trip, I was exhausted from all of the normal tourist activity. ___ always tended to sleep in, and napped in the car between destinations. So, as she chatted with our hosts downstairs, I napped in our bedroom upstairs. But I could hardly sleep, fevered as I was with fantasies of feminization. I could no longer resist. I went to my suitcase, took ___'s bikini, and walked boldly out of the room and across the hall to the bathroom with it in my hand. I locked the door behind me, took off all my clothes, and put on the bikini. I primped in front of the mirror, and happily masturbated. Relief at last! I cleaned up, hid the bikini in my pants, and snuck back to the bedroom, thrilled by my crime, hands shaking as I hid the evidence.
Finally we came home late at night, parked our still-packed suitcases by our own closets, and went to sleep. I woke up early, unable to remain in bed. I was possessed with more transsexual fantasies, and determined to relate my adventure here. Imagine my joy when I discovered another of ___'s bikinis hanging in the second bathroom, set out to dry just before our trip, and since forgotten. With ___ still sleeping soundly several rooms away, I did not hesitate to slip into this one, too, and savor every moment of it.
I think I'm going to get into trouble some day. At this rate, it's likely to be soon.
Another Obsession Fulfilled
As an aficionado of women's swimwear, I am keenly aware that the monokini has become fashionable. As such, I have been haunted by it for months. As you all know from my previous posts, I am obsessed with swimsuits, and I have a curious predilection for one-pieces. I have worn dozens of different bathing suits over the years, but I have never even had a chance to wear a monokini. Imagine the appeal: it's sexy like a bikini, fun like a one-piece, and just uncommon enough to be out of reach.
I've made half-baked plans to buy myself one more than once, but have consistently failed to execute on any of them. First, I've concentrated on the basics: I know I love one-pieces and bikinis, so I've always made sure to have access to some of those. Second, trendy as they are, they are still somewhat uncommon. My wife certainly wouldn't wear one because the resulting tan lines would be unappealing. Even stores stock only a few of them, and I suspect that many women, like my wife, avoid them.
With recent adventures, I've had my fill of bikinis. Sure, I'd always love to try on some more, but I have access to so many. My remaining one-piece is always fun, but I've had it for over a year now, so I'm ready for something new. And finally, my wife is taking a 3-day trip in a few weeks, so I'll have some quality alone time. Therefore, I have decided that I now would be a perfect time to get myself a monokini.
I've been keeping a list of links to monokinis I was interested in, mostly at Victoria's Secret. However, as I pondered which one I would purchase, I noticed to my horror that most of my links were broken!
But this was a mixed blessing: my choices may have been fewer, but Victoria's Secret had discontinued many of the items I was interested in, and was clearing out their inventory. This meant that I would have to act fast, before my precious monokinis disappeared forever. I found that the one suit I was particularly interested in was still available online, but not in the color I wanted. I was willing to compromise, and made plans to visit the local store.
I circled around the mall nervously before I worked up the courage to enter the store. There were very few customers, given the time of day. I wandered around, looking for their swimwear displays, and was disappointed to find one small clearance rack. It took a fair amount of courage simply to paw through the items on the rack. I did this tentatively for a few moments before I lost my nerve. I was terrified of looking like some kind of pervert, or of being recognized by someone.
I backed away from the rack, and found the current swimwear display. Unfortunately, it was beside the cashiers' counter, so I'd have to browse the pretty bikinis right next to the staff and a line of customers. I saw no one-piece suits -- much less monokinis -- at all in that small display. I desperately wanted to inspect every single piece of glorious feminine swimwear before me, but I could not dare to so much as touch any of it. I dutifully returned to the clearance rack at the other end of the store.
This time I took my time.
There were a few monokinis of various kinds hanging forlornly upon it, but not the one I had hoped to find. Most of the contents of the clearance rack was bikini bottoms without matching tops, and a few nighties. I was very keen on achieving my goal, so I carefully sought what I wanted. It appeared that all the remaining monokinis were of the PINK line, which I hadn't been particularly interested in. However, one type of suit did catch my attention. This one was certainly of the PINK variety, but it was also hot pink in color, and in a highly appealing metallic texture, and ultra-feminine side ties on the hips. I was getting excited about it. I initially had wanted one in black, but what could be more feminine than this striking pink? I checked the size (small) and price ($44.50, with a 50% discount!) and giddily returned to the cashiers' counter, where I awkwardly stood in line for a few seconds before even more awkwardly paying for my precious monokini. Imagine my pleasant surprise when the suit turned out to be only $12! Apparently, they had already applied a 50% discount, and added another to clear it out.
Oddly enough, the cashier was a straight man. I had never seen a straight man working at Victoria's Secret before. He offered me a membership card, which I politely declined, twice, before ringing me up. I was obviously embarrassed. I wonder if he suspected my motives.
I was so eager to wear it that I smuggled it into the restroom at the office, and, hidden in a big stall at an hour when nobody was around, I put it on. It fit perfectly. I was only disappointed that I wouldn't get to fully enjoy it just then, given the circumstances, so I quickly took it off and smuggled it back out.
I have now had my new monokini stashed in my secret hiding place all week, fantasizing the whole time about wearing it again. Since my wife is out for a couple of hours, I have slipped into it to tell its story. Now that I'm in it, I must confess that it's surely one of the most feminine items I have ever worn. I love it! It will be a key part of my most prurient fantasies for a long time.
I've made half-baked plans to buy myself one more than once, but have consistently failed to execute on any of them. First, I've concentrated on the basics: I know I love one-pieces and bikinis, so I've always made sure to have access to some of those. Second, trendy as they are, they are still somewhat uncommon. My wife certainly wouldn't wear one because the resulting tan lines would be unappealing. Even stores stock only a few of them, and I suspect that many women, like my wife, avoid them.
With recent adventures, I've had my fill of bikinis. Sure, I'd always love to try on some more, but I have access to so many. My remaining one-piece is always fun, but I've had it for over a year now, so I'm ready for something new. And finally, my wife is taking a 3-day trip in a few weeks, so I'll have some quality alone time. Therefore, I have decided that I now would be a perfect time to get myself a monokini.
I've been keeping a list of links to monokinis I was interested in, mostly at Victoria's Secret. However, as I pondered which one I would purchase, I noticed to my horror that most of my links were broken!
But this was a mixed blessing: my choices may have been fewer, but Victoria's Secret had discontinued many of the items I was interested in, and was clearing out their inventory. This meant that I would have to act fast, before my precious monokinis disappeared forever. I found that the one suit I was particularly interested in was still available online, but not in the color I wanted. I was willing to compromise, and made plans to visit the local store.
I circled around the mall nervously before I worked up the courage to enter the store. There were very few customers, given the time of day. I wandered around, looking for their swimwear displays, and was disappointed to find one small clearance rack. It took a fair amount of courage simply to paw through the items on the rack. I did this tentatively for a few moments before I lost my nerve. I was terrified of looking like some kind of pervert, or of being recognized by someone.
I backed away from the rack, and found the current swimwear display. Unfortunately, it was beside the cashiers' counter, so I'd have to browse the pretty bikinis right next to the staff and a line of customers. I saw no one-piece suits -- much less monokinis -- at all in that small display. I desperately wanted to inspect every single piece of glorious feminine swimwear before me, but I could not dare to so much as touch any of it. I dutifully returned to the clearance rack at the other end of the store.
This time I took my time.
There were a few monokinis of various kinds hanging forlornly upon it, but not the one I had hoped to find. Most of the contents of the clearance rack was bikini bottoms without matching tops, and a few nighties. I was very keen on achieving my goal, so I carefully sought what I wanted. It appeared that all the remaining monokinis were of the PINK line, which I hadn't been particularly interested in. However, one type of suit did catch my attention. This one was certainly of the PINK variety, but it was also hot pink in color, and in a highly appealing metallic texture, and ultra-feminine side ties on the hips. I was getting excited about it. I initially had wanted one in black, but what could be more feminine than this striking pink? I checked the size (small) and price ($44.50, with a 50% discount!) and giddily returned to the cashiers' counter, where I awkwardly stood in line for a few seconds before even more awkwardly paying for my precious monokini. Imagine my pleasant surprise when the suit turned out to be only $12! Apparently, they had already applied a 50% discount, and added another to clear it out.
Oddly enough, the cashier was a straight man. I had never seen a straight man working at Victoria's Secret before. He offered me a membership card, which I politely declined, twice, before ringing me up. I was obviously embarrassed. I wonder if he suspected my motives.
I was so eager to wear it that I smuggled it into the restroom at the office, and, hidden in a big stall at an hour when nobody was around, I put it on. It fit perfectly. I was only disappointed that I wouldn't get to fully enjoy it just then, given the circumstances, so I quickly took it off and smuggled it back out.
I have now had my new monokini stashed in my secret hiding place all week, fantasizing the whole time about wearing it again. Since my wife is out for a couple of hours, I have slipped into it to tell its story. Now that I'm in it, I must confess that it's surely one of the most feminine items I have ever worn. I love it! It will be a key part of my most prurient fantasies for a long time.
Caution to the Wind
Every now and then, after a day spent ogling gorgeous scantily clad women on a blistering hot day, I get a moment to myself to indulge in my habit. It just so happened today that my lovely wife, who had gone for a swim earlier in the week, and had left one of her bikinis hanging tauntingly on the towel rack in the bathroom, was occupied in the city for a few hours, where I was to join her after running some errands. Part of my errand involved me returning home alone, which left me a small window of opportunity, which I recklessly leapt through.
Before I even got home, I knew what I was going to do. I wanted to savor the moment, and enjoy it to its fullest. I had gone to pick up some groceries, and had to put them away. As soon as I arrived, I dumped them on the counter and scurried off lecherously to the bedroom, where I immediately leapt out of my clothes, and raced to the bathroom to put on ___'s lovely white bikini. However, for whatever reason, I wasn't all that interested in it. Instead, I found myself opening my secret stash for my green side-tie bikini, which has served me so well in the past. Once again, I lusted for her trusty wedge sandals to push my femininity over the top. Thus attired, and member tucked neatly between my legs, I proceeded to put away the groceries, slowly and deliberately, reveling in my womanliness.
These shoes are, as I've mentioned before, much too small for my grotesque man-feet, and the straps barely fit around my ankles. When I wear them even for a short time, they leave marks around my toes and under the straps. Imagine what it looks like after I wear them for a half hour or so! I was fully aware of this when I put them on, and this knowledge that I would show tell-tale signs of my crime for hours longer aroused my passions even more.
After I succumbed to a hot and sweaty pleasure attack, blissfully satisfied, I cleaned up after myself, and put everything away. Only now I had to deal with the marks on my feet, which wouldn't go away. It being a hot summer day, I had no choice but to rush out to meet my wife in the city, wearing my own manly sandals, but with strange red strap marks around my ankles.
Nobody noticed, thank Goddess!
Before I even got home, I knew what I was going to do. I wanted to savor the moment, and enjoy it to its fullest. I had gone to pick up some groceries, and had to put them away. As soon as I arrived, I dumped them on the counter and scurried off lecherously to the bedroom, where I immediately leapt out of my clothes, and raced to the bathroom to put on ___'s lovely white bikini. However, for whatever reason, I wasn't all that interested in it. Instead, I found myself opening my secret stash for my green side-tie bikini, which has served me so well in the past. Once again, I lusted for her trusty wedge sandals to push my femininity over the top. Thus attired, and member tucked neatly between my legs, I proceeded to put away the groceries, slowly and deliberately, reveling in my womanliness.
These shoes are, as I've mentioned before, much too small for my grotesque man-feet, and the straps barely fit around my ankles. When I wear them even for a short time, they leave marks around my toes and under the straps. Imagine what it looks like after I wear them for a half hour or so! I was fully aware of this when I put them on, and this knowledge that I would show tell-tale signs of my crime for hours longer aroused my passions even more.
After I succumbed to a hot and sweaty pleasure attack, blissfully satisfied, I cleaned up after myself, and put everything away. Only now I had to deal with the marks on my feet, which wouldn't go away. It being a hot summer day, I had no choice but to rush out to meet my wife in the city, wearing my own manly sandals, but with strange red strap marks around my ankles.
Nobody noticed, thank Goddess!
Opportunity Knocks
Once again, ___ invited her friend over. They planned to go shopping for a few hours, and then return and hang out at the community swimming pool. Yes, that would be the very same friend whose trust I had previously violated about a year ago.
It took a few moments of weak hesitation after they left before I carefully pawed through her bag to see what she might have brought. At the very top, rolled up and protruding sideways , something made of denim -- a pair of jeans, I thought, disappointed -- concealed everything else. When I pulled it out to inspect the deeper contents of the bag, careful to keep it as much in its current form as possible so I could replace it without raising suspicions, I noticed that the denim was much too short to be a pair of pants. Probably shorts, I guessed.
But no. It was a miniskirt.
I couldn't believe my luck. How many times had I dreamed of wearing a denim miniskirt over a bikini, like all the pretty girls do near the beach? I had even contemplated buying myself one, because it seems to me to be an invaluable part of any woman's wardrobe -- except for my wife's. And to think that I hadn't even looked inside the bag yet!
As expected, the bag also contained a swimsuit. As I cautiously lifted it out of the bag, again studying how it was folded and positioned under the miniskirt, I felt the softness of the charcoal gray microfiber fabric, and noticed the sexy ties on the sides of the panties left a hole through which to peek a tantalizing bit of skin. It was so soft that I immediately thought it must be some fancy Victoria's Secret bikini, but a quick glance at the label surprised me: it was Mossimo. The bra was a cute halter, which wasn't very revealing, but not at all disappointing. I have a weakness for substantial bras, especially halters, whose size constantly reminds me of what I'm wearing.
I trembled from the thrill of it. I had to put it all on, and there would be no way to avoid wearing ___'s trusty old wedge sandals to complete the ensemble. I had a lovely little beach outfit to put on, and I had no idea when my play time would be over. For all I knew, they'd be back in 30 minutes. I had no time to waste.
I quickly brought all of these feminine items into the bedroom. I stripped out of all my clothes, slipped into the remarkably soft panties, and was immediately smitten. The fit was delightfully snug, perfect for feeling the gentle touch of the feminine fabric in its erotic shape. Then I tied myself into the bra, and luxuriated in the silkiness over my chest. What a shame that I can't do this more often! At last, I stepped into the miniskirt and pulled it up. It was very tight around my waist, and I was a bit worried about my member leaving a little goo on it, so I was careful about how I put it on.
Before I could even get to the sandals, I was possessed with ecstasy for a moment, overwhelmed by the softness and tightness of the bikini, and the fact that I was finally, for the first time ever, wearing a denim miniskirt. I composed myself, knowing that the moment would be wasted without the wedge sandals, which are a key part of the outfit. Why bother wearing a miniskirt if I'm not going to show off my legs?
Of course, much of the enjoyment I get from women's shoes is that they're the last bit to put on. I love fighting with the straps of these little sandal wedges, which are much too small for me, while I'm already tarted up in a bikini and miniskirt. I already felt fantastically erotic, but this last touch simply put me over the top. I only got to take a few steps in my dream outfit before I collapsed into feminine ecstasy.
Alas! If only I had had more time! I could have savored this precious moment for much longer, and enjoyed it to its fullest. Instead, I worried about ___ bursting through the door at any moment, so I satisfied myself quickly, and made a bit of a mess (quickly cleaned up) as I frantically undressed and placed everything back in its rightful spot. I no longer had any idea how any of these heavenly items had been placed in the bag, and I tried a few different ways of packing it, but in the end I realized that there was no way to be sure. I would have to suffer the anxiety of someone noticing for the rest of the day.
The ladies finally returned a few hours later, and I kicked myself for not having taken more time. They immediately prepared for the pool, and ___'s friend described what a bargain her bikini had been at Target, and how she would never feel comfortable wearing such a short skirt anywhere but at a beach or swimming pool. I felt relief and envy as she disappeared into the guest bathroom to change into what I had already worn.
It took a few moments of weak hesitation after they left before I carefully pawed through her bag to see what she might have brought. At the very top, rolled up and protruding sideways , something made of denim -- a pair of jeans, I thought, disappointed -- concealed everything else. When I pulled it out to inspect the deeper contents of the bag, careful to keep it as much in its current form as possible so I could replace it without raising suspicions, I noticed that the denim was much too short to be a pair of pants. Probably shorts, I guessed.
But no. It was a miniskirt.
I couldn't believe my luck. How many times had I dreamed of wearing a denim miniskirt over a bikini, like all the pretty girls do near the beach? I had even contemplated buying myself one, because it seems to me to be an invaluable part of any woman's wardrobe -- except for my wife's. And to think that I hadn't even looked inside the bag yet!
As expected, the bag also contained a swimsuit. As I cautiously lifted it out of the bag, again studying how it was folded and positioned under the miniskirt, I felt the softness of the charcoal gray microfiber fabric, and noticed the sexy ties on the sides of the panties left a hole through which to peek a tantalizing bit of skin. It was so soft that I immediately thought it must be some fancy Victoria's Secret bikini, but a quick glance at the label surprised me: it was Mossimo. The bra was a cute halter, which wasn't very revealing, but not at all disappointing. I have a weakness for substantial bras, especially halters, whose size constantly reminds me of what I'm wearing.
I trembled from the thrill of it. I had to put it all on, and there would be no way to avoid wearing ___'s trusty old wedge sandals to complete the ensemble. I had a lovely little beach outfit to put on, and I had no idea when my play time would be over. For all I knew, they'd be back in 30 minutes. I had no time to waste.
I quickly brought all of these feminine items into the bedroom. I stripped out of all my clothes, slipped into the remarkably soft panties, and was immediately smitten. The fit was delightfully snug, perfect for feeling the gentle touch of the feminine fabric in its erotic shape. Then I tied myself into the bra, and luxuriated in the silkiness over my chest. What a shame that I can't do this more often! At last, I stepped into the miniskirt and pulled it up. It was very tight around my waist, and I was a bit worried about my member leaving a little goo on it, so I was careful about how I put it on.
Before I could even get to the sandals, I was possessed with ecstasy for a moment, overwhelmed by the softness and tightness of the bikini, and the fact that I was finally, for the first time ever, wearing a denim miniskirt. I composed myself, knowing that the moment would be wasted without the wedge sandals, which are a key part of the outfit. Why bother wearing a miniskirt if I'm not going to show off my legs?
Of course, much of the enjoyment I get from women's shoes is that they're the last bit to put on. I love fighting with the straps of these little sandal wedges, which are much too small for me, while I'm already tarted up in a bikini and miniskirt. I already felt fantastically erotic, but this last touch simply put me over the top. I only got to take a few steps in my dream outfit before I collapsed into feminine ecstasy.
Alas! If only I had had more time! I could have savored this precious moment for much longer, and enjoyed it to its fullest. Instead, I worried about ___ bursting through the door at any moment, so I satisfied myself quickly, and made a bit of a mess (quickly cleaned up) as I frantically undressed and placed everything back in its rightful spot. I no longer had any idea how any of these heavenly items had been placed in the bag, and I tried a few different ways of packing it, but in the end I realized that there was no way to be sure. I would have to suffer the anxiety of someone noticing for the rest of the day.
The ladies finally returned a few hours later, and I kicked myself for not having taken more time. They immediately prepared for the pool, and ___'s friend described what a bargain her bikini had been at Target, and how she would never feel comfortable wearing such a short skirt anywhere but at a beach or swimming pool. I felt relief and envy as she disappeared into the guest bathroom to change into what I had already worn.
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