24 Hours En Femme: a Follow-Up

After I wrote about my day dressed as a woman, I took a long bath in the Jacuzzi tub. I played for a bit with my bathing suits, since I couldn't leave them out of the picture. I modeled each of them in the bathroom mirror, one after the other. It was such a tease, so different from my usual furtive sessions. I settled on the one-piece, which for whatever reason felt the most feminine to me. I tried to draw it out as long as possible, but I came pretty quickly, and very hard. While in the bath, planning my night's escapades, I had decided that I would taste my own jizz, as a way of succumbing to my desire for a feminine experience, so I slurped up some of it, even as the pink fog was lifting. It tasted gamy, not altogether bad, but overall quite gross. It's very hard to remain in the right frame of mind to enjoy it. Nonetheless, I was still excited about sleeping in panties and a nightie. I was fully committed to it.

I had washed some of my lingerie, and had it drying on my towel rack, and it was liberating having all my feminine stuff out in the open. I put on my nightie and panties, and got ready for bed. I had tossed my drab pajamas in the hamper already. As expected, I could hardly help myself from luxuriating in feelings of femininity and reckless abandon. I could take my time, enjoy the idea of remaining in my feminine attire all night, and probably repeat the experience, multiple times.

I eventually dozed off, sleeping uneasily with my tired arousal keeping me in a state of semi-sleep. At some point, the baby woke up crying. He had never seen me in such an outfit, and I had to think about whether to change or not. In the end, I thought it best to just remain in my nightie. I comforted him for a good 30 minutes, rocking him back to sleep while wearing panties and a satiny nightgown! I was a little bit uncomfortable about it. What if he somehow remembers someday? Did he even notice at all? Certainly he rested his head on my bare shoulder, which is usually covered in a t-shirt.

In the morning, I brought myself to climax yet again, and thoroughly exhausted my drive to dress like a woman all day. I had decided to return a couple of things to the store, because I have far too much girlie stuff now to easily conceal. So I ended up not keeping the sports leggings, which I had planned to wear that day. I put them on one last time, and loved how comfy and cozy and sexy they were, and questioned my decision. But in the end, I had to part with them before I ruined them.

I was done for the time being. I cleaned up after myself, the guilt and shame washing over me in anticipation of T__'s return. I was anxious about leaving some trace of my activities. In the end, everything was fine, and she remained oblivious. I was a bit disappointed in my lack of determination to see my plan through, but in the end I came only a couple of hours short. 

Thinking back on it now, I fondly remember pushing the stroller around the neighborhood with girl clothes just under the surface, partly visible, and wish I could do it again soon. I think I might even do it in women's leggings, in public, for all to see, because who even cares? I even put on the dress and tights and shoes last week again during a brief moment alone at home, and thoroughly loved it.

A Pleasant Dream

Last night, after a rare lovemaking session with my wife, during which I fantasized about being the woman, I drifted to sleep remembering my old fantasies about becoming a lesbian.

I dreamed about T__ dressing me up in a pink bralette and panties, in good humor. I think I even had on a blonde wig for a while. I was happy and relieved that she accepted me like this. I put on a t-shirt and pants over it so that others wouldn't know, and I asked T__ if my bra straps were visible. "Of course your bra straps are visible, everybody can see them, silly!" she answered, not at all bothered by it. I looked at myself in the mirror and saw the wide, satiny straps on my shoulders, not even close to being concealed by the unusually wide neck of my t-shirt. In retrospect, I know that women's t-shirts are often cut that way, so I suppose I might have been wearing one of those. In the dream, however, the point was to cover up my feminine undergarments, but even still I wasn't much bothered that my bra straps showed, because T__ was on board. My mother was visiting, and I still didn't want her to know, so I did hide from her, but I wasn't stressed out about it. I think I realized that I couldn't prevent her from seeing me, so I just happily went about my business, bra straps exposed for all the world to see. Then I met a famous woman singer/songwriter who doesn't really exist, and fawned all over her, telling her what a huge fan I was of her music, and how much influence she had on me in my early adulthood. I was ever conscious of my femininity, and happy and free and proud of it, even as I chatted with this famous person.

It was a wonderful feeling, and I'm still bathing in its afterglow!