I was in a hotel room with T__, and we were getting ready to go to the swimming pool. I wore a brown tankini of some sort -- it doesn't really make sense, but it was more like a babydoll in that it flowed from the bra cups, even though it was definitely swimwear. T__ was not at all shocked or disturbed or even annoyed: if anything, she was indifferent.
I was excited and anxious, because I'd never come out like this before. It sure was bold of me to come out at a hotel swimming pool! As we went, I was confused by some spaghetti-strap strings hanging from my bathing suit. I didn't know what they were for, or where they went, so I asked T__, who dutifully explained that they tie around my legs, and as she proceeded to tie them for me, I noticed that my legs were totally hairless. It felt erotic to me, but I got the sense that T__ was quite indifferent about it. Yes, this doesn't correspond at all to any type of clothing I've ever seen or heard of, but it's a dream, what do you expect? It may have been some type of flimsy and feminine cover-up.
We got to the pool and settled down. I wasn't shy at all. I just acted like this was perfectly normal. People would come by and congratulate me. "Way to go, good for you!" they said. "Who cares that you like to dress like a girl? It's great that you can feel comfortable enough about yourself that you can come out in public like this." I felt silly for having been so secretive about my fetish for so long, and relieved that I could finally be freely feminine in public.
After that, somehow T__ disappeared to meet her friends, and I was to meet them all later at a restaurant. I went to find her, still wearing my swimsuit, and empowered by the earlier words of encouragement. I was now at peace with the world as a transvestite, and the world was at peace with me. I found T__ and her friends, and they behaved as if it were the most normal thing in the world that I'd be wearing feminine beach wear.
Power in the Battle of the Sexes
Power: for a man, it's physical strength. For a woman, it's beauty, or rather femininity itself.
Thinking about how a woman's power is sly and naughty, while a man's is almost an entitlement, deserved. A man exercising his power is blunt and obvious, as are his objectives; a woman exercising her power is perhaps obvious, but certain subtle, and her objectives are inscrutable.
The crux of it is that a man's power over a woman depends on her power over him: he would not even think to subdue her if not for the fact that she has already seduced him.
This strikes me as incredibly important.
Thinking about how a woman's power is sly and naughty, while a man's is almost an entitlement, deserved. A man exercising his power is blunt and obvious, as are his objectives; a woman exercising her power is perhaps obvious, but certain subtle, and her objectives are inscrutable.
The crux of it is that a man's power over a woman depends on her power over him: he would not even think to subdue her if not for the fact that she has already seduced him.
This strikes me as incredibly important.
Hanky Panky Dream
I have a vague recollection of having a dream recently about frolicking in girl wear with someone else!
I think I was wearing something feminine -- possibly white short-shorts -- and feeling sexy. At some point someone else appeared, a playmate, and I was happy but apprehensive about meeting them. I wasn't at all ashamed or embarrassed about what I was wearing, if indeed I was en femme. Certainly, the person I met was wearing white short-shorts or boyshorts, and not shy about it either.
What little I remember is that this other person had a penis, and I wanted to touch it, to experience cock for the first time. I was excited, but apprehensive. I wanted to feel it in my hand, but worried that I wouldn't enjoy it. Then this person humped my hip.
His penis was small and wimpy, and I was disappointed -- not in the penis, not in my partner, but in myself -- for not being as aroused by it as I had hoped. Instead I was thinking about girls, and pussy, and that this proves what my true preference is. I was at peace with my realization, as I let the gurl hump me.
That's all I remember. The thought of it now is massively arousing.
Go figure.
I think I was wearing something feminine -- possibly white short-shorts -- and feeling sexy. At some point someone else appeared, a playmate, and I was happy but apprehensive about meeting them. I wasn't at all ashamed or embarrassed about what I was wearing, if indeed I was en femme. Certainly, the person I met was wearing white short-shorts or boyshorts, and not shy about it either.
What little I remember is that this other person had a penis, and I wanted to touch it, to experience cock for the first time. I was excited, but apprehensive. I wanted to feel it in my hand, but worried that I wouldn't enjoy it. Then this person humped my hip.
His penis was small and wimpy, and I was disappointed -- not in the penis, not in my partner, but in myself -- for not being as aroused by it as I had hoped. Instead I was thinking about girls, and pussy, and that this proves what my true preference is. I was at peace with my realization, as I let the gurl hump me.
That's all I remember. The thought of it now is massively arousing.
Go figure.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)