I've been obsessing over trans fiction lately, as I revisit my old diary. I loaded all of the stories from the long-defunct Michelle's Mid-Day Break onto my e-reader. I read a few last night before going to sleep. My wife has terrible eyesight, so she can't see what I'm reading.
I had a hard time falling asleep, excited as I was about stories of feminization. The one I read just happened to involve wearing a bikini. I tossed and turned fantasizing about how life would be if I hadn't met my wife, and I could wear girls' stuff all the time.
In my dream, T__ was having me try on lingerie outfits, mainly consisting of bustiers and panties. I remember being surprised that she would want me to wear girl clothes. I wasn't at all hiding the fact that I wanted to, but she was choosing what I would try on. In particular, I remember wearing a satiny off-white bustier with black panties and stockings, and then trying on a black bustier with the same panties and stockings. I had a flowing white satin robe on as well. I think I wore makeup, too.
How I wish it were true! But sadly, it's just a dream. She told me once about a disturbing dream she had in which she found me "hideous." I asked her to elaborate, expecting that she'd say I looked deformed like Quasimodo or something, but instead, she complained that I looked feminine, which she found repulsive.
Therefore, I continue to prance behind her back.
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