• One of my best beach photos. Is really me in one of my favorite bikinis.
    One of my best beach photos. Is really me in one of my favorite bikinis. 🥰
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  • Morning ladies. Home alone tomorrow so first pics will be incoming. Bit of cam fun as well. Do love my bi weekly Fridays off alone.
    Morning ladies. Home alone tomorrow so first pics will be incoming. Bit of cam fun as well. Do love my bi weekly Fridays off alone.
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  • Todays losers are....

    Goddess_kareen009 beware scammer! Called 'her' out and she tried DM me but asked why was she doing this. No I've been blocked lol

    Goddess_clara007 reported and blocked. High probability of AI image. Name and profile description = scammer! Please report and block.

    To all simps out on this site who fawn and send such positive messages to these people who just using a small amount of brain power it is absolutly obvious these cis dom women are scammers. Dont encourage them. Report and block always.
    Its showing they will put up with the age verification now to get on the site just in the hope of hooking some mugs and taking them for a ride (to the bank).

    LauraS full of fake face pictures. typically stolen pictures with manipulated faces/replacement faces. stealing other peoples images and intellectual rights without permission.
    Todays losers are.... Goddess_kareen009 beware scammer! Called 'her' out and she tried DM me but asked why was she doing this. No I've been blocked lol Goddess_clara007 reported and blocked. High probability of AI image. Name and profile description = scammer! Please report and block. To all simps out on this site who fawn and send such positive messages to these people who just using a small amount of brain power it is absolutly obvious these cis dom women are scammers. Dont encourage them. Report and block always. Its showing they will put up with the age verification now to get on the site just in the hope of hooking some mugs and taking them for a ride (to the bank). LauraS full of fake face pictures. typically stolen pictures with manipulated faces/replacement faces. stealing other peoples images and intellectual rights without permission.
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  • The rain came down in sheets, the kind that makes you wonder if the sky has finally decided the city's sins need a proper rinse. It hammered the cobbles like an angry landlord demanding back rent, and the neon signs those hopeful lies in electric pink and acid green fizzed and spat reflections that danced across puddles deep enough to drown a man's regrets.
    I stood there under the brim of my hat, which had given up pretending to be waterproof about three streets ago. The turquoise satin trench coat clung to me like an ambitious squid, heavy and glistening, the sort of garment that looks magnificent in the mirror at three in the afternoon and ridiculous at three in the morning when you're soaked to the marrow and smelling faintly of wet ferret. But dignity is a luxury, and mine had pawned itself years back for a bottle of something that promised to forget.
    Beside me stood the Turquoise Queen.
    She didn't so much stand as preside. The satin hijab caught what little light there was and threw it back in shimmering defiance, while the oversized headscarf cascaded into a chiffon voile veil that billowed and swirled in the fog like the ghost of a particularly extravagant wedding dress that had died of embarrassment. Every time she moved even to breathe the fabric whispered secrets to the night air, expensive secrets involving rose attar and old money and perhaps the occasional small assassination. In this monochrome world of stark blacks and murderous whites, she was a scandal in turquoise, a splash of colour that the rain itself seemed too polite to touch.
    I took a drag on the cigarette that had somehow survived the deluge. The smoke curled upward in lazy question marks, as if even it was wondering what the hell we were doing here.
    "You know," I said, because silence is only golden until it starts to rust, "most people come to this northern town looking for opportunity. Or revenge. Or a decent kebab at two in the morning. Very few arrive dressed like the centrepiece of a particularly expensive funeral."
    She tilted her head, and the veil shifted in a slow, liquid motion that suggested physics had been bribed. "And yet here I am, Grimshaw, The Gumshoe. Opportunity found me first. It was wearing a cheap suit and carrying a very sharp knife."
    I grunted. Grunting is cheaper than conversation and usually gets the same results. "Opportunity has a habit of leaving bodies behind. That's why they pay me to follow the stains."
    A passing drunk staggered through a puddle that may or may not have contained tomorrow's headlines. He stared at her veil as though it might contain the meaning of life, then decided it probably didn't and lurched onward toward whatever oblivion still had room for one more customer.
    The fog thickened, turning the streetlamps into soft, accusing halos. Somewhere in the distance a greasy takeaway exploded in a brief symphony of swearing and sizzling fat. Life in the town: always conducting itself with unnecessary drama.
    She lifted one gloved hand turquoise, naturally and pointed toward the mouth of an alley that smelled strongly of yesterday's fish and tomorrow's trouble. "The man we're after went that way. He thinks shadows will hide him."
    "They won't," I said. "Shadows in this town are unionised. They demand overtime for hiding villains after midnight."
    Her laugh was low, like velvet dragged over broken glass. "Then let us give them something to earn their pay, Detective."
    I flicked the cigarette into a puddle where it hissed its last. The Turquoise Queen moved ahead, veil trailing like a comet's tail made of expensive regret. I followed, because that's what you do when the only alternative is standing alone in the rain wondering why the universe bothers.
    Somewhere ahead, a door creaked. A scream started, then thought better of it.
    The night was just getting interesting.
    The rain came down in sheets, the kind that makes you wonder if the sky has finally decided the city's sins need a proper rinse. It hammered the cobbles like an angry landlord demanding back rent, and the neon signs those hopeful lies in electric pink and acid green fizzed and spat reflections that danced across puddles deep enough to drown a man's regrets. I stood there under the brim of my hat, which had given up pretending to be waterproof about three streets ago. The turquoise satin trench coat clung to me like an ambitious squid, heavy and glistening, the sort of garment that looks magnificent in the mirror at three in the afternoon and ridiculous at three in the morning when you're soaked to the marrow and smelling faintly of wet ferret. But dignity is a luxury, and mine had pawned itself years back for a bottle of something that promised to forget. Beside me stood the Turquoise Queen. She didn't so much stand as preside. The satin hijab caught what little light there was and threw it back in shimmering defiance, while the oversized headscarf cascaded into a chiffon voile veil that billowed and swirled in the fog like the ghost of a particularly extravagant wedding dress that had died of embarrassment. Every time she moved even to breathe the fabric whispered secrets to the night air, expensive secrets involving rose attar and old money and perhaps the occasional small assassination. In this monochrome world of stark blacks and murderous whites, she was a scandal in turquoise, a splash of colour that the rain itself seemed too polite to touch. I took a drag on the cigarette that had somehow survived the deluge. The smoke curled upward in lazy question marks, as if even it was wondering what the hell we were doing here. "You know," I said, because silence is only golden until it starts to rust, "most people come to this northern town looking for opportunity. Or revenge. Or a decent kebab at two in the morning. Very few arrive dressed like the centrepiece of a particularly expensive funeral." She tilted her head, and the veil shifted in a slow, liquid motion that suggested physics had been bribed. "And yet here I am, Grimshaw, The Gumshoe. Opportunity found me first. It was wearing a cheap suit and carrying a very sharp knife." I grunted. Grunting is cheaper than conversation and usually gets the same results. "Opportunity has a habit of leaving bodies behind. That's why they pay me to follow the stains." A passing drunk staggered through a puddle that may or may not have contained tomorrow's headlines. He stared at her veil as though it might contain the meaning of life, then decided it probably didn't and lurched onward toward whatever oblivion still had room for one more customer. The fog thickened, turning the streetlamps into soft, accusing halos. Somewhere in the distance a greasy takeaway exploded in a brief symphony of swearing and sizzling fat. Life in the town: always conducting itself with unnecessary drama. She lifted one gloved hand turquoise, naturally and pointed toward the mouth of an alley that smelled strongly of yesterday's fish and tomorrow's trouble. "The man we're after went that way. He thinks shadows will hide him." "They won't," I said. "Shadows in this town are unionised. They demand overtime for hiding villains after midnight." Her laugh was low, like velvet dragged over broken glass. "Then let us give them something to earn their pay, Detective." I flicked the cigarette into a puddle where it hissed its last. The Turquoise Queen moved ahead, veil trailing like a comet's tail made of expensive regret. I followed, because that's what you do when the only alternative is standing alone in the rain wondering why the universe bothers. Somewhere ahead, a door creaked. A scream started, then thought better of it. The night was just getting interesting.
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  • I live within a sanctuary of reflection, a shimmering Satin Wonderland of towering, gilded mirrors that capture every fold of my existence. I am a creature of history, a mature queen of a certain vintage, and my world is defined by the rustle of fabric. Here, I am swaddled in an endless supply of sissy satin dresses, gowns that trail like silken rivers, and gloves that reach toward my shoulders, smoothing the passage of time.
    "Oh my," I whisper to my reflection, my voice a raspy cello. "Today is the day for the hallowed turf."
    But one does not simply walk onto the pitch at Wembley Stadium to play British football without the proper armor. This is not a match for jerseys and cleats; this is a clash of POMPÖÖS Couture.
    I began my transformation with the foundation of my "entity." First, I stepped into the ivory white modest high neck satin evening dress. It is a plus size masterpiece of elegance, the long balloon sleeves puffing out like clouds of cream, the flowing tulle skirt whispering secrets against my ankles. But as the London air turned crisp and the fog began to roll off the Thames, I felt the call for more.
    I reached for the wedding gown, its chiffon veil a ghostly mist. I wrapped a heavy ivory satin headscarf tightly around my skull, securing my wisdom and my wig beneath its weight. Then, I layered. I pulled on the Victorian style black ankle length dress a triumph of high necklines, puffed bell sleeves, ruffles, and intricate lace trim.
    As I pulled the black gown over the white, the layers merged. I was no longer wearing two dresses; I was wearing a singular, monumental entity composed of Satin, Taffeta, Georgette, Chiffon, and Organza. To finish the silhouette, I added the poofy, extravagant, ultra femme large ladies’ flamboyant satin skirt over the hips, creating a volume so vast I could barely fit through the mahogany doors of my dressing room.
    I looked at my vanity. Seven large headscarves black and white laid out for the week. I chose a heavy black Georgette to wrap over the white satin, pinning it with a rhinestone crown. I slid on my newly found long opera gloves, the silk pulling tight against my skin, and stepped into my elegant shoes.
    Wembley was a sea of POMPÖÖS madness. Twenty two drag queens, each a monument to Glööckler’s baroque vision, stood upon the emerald grass. Rhinestones caught the stadium lights like a thousand stars fallen to earth. There was Trixie in a gold leafed bodice and Bella in a crimson velvet train that required two ball boys to carry.
    "Right then, girls!" I shouted, the wind catching my chiffon veil. "Let’s show them how a lady tackles!"
    The whistle blew. I didn't run; I glided. The multiple layers of my dress the Georgette over the Taffeta, the Organza beneath the Satin created a rhythmic shush shush sound that drowned out the roar of the crowd. When the ball came toward me, I didn't kick it with the grace of a sportsman; I met it with the immovable force of three hundred yards of couture.
    The ball hit my flamboyant satin skirt and simply died, swallowed by the sheer volume of my ruffles. I pivoted, my bell sleeves catching the wind like sails. I saw an opening. With a flick of my opera-gloved hand to steady my headscarf, I sent the ball flying toward the goal with a delicate tap of my elegant heel.
    As the net bulged, the stadium erupted. I didn't celebrate with a slide on the grass heaven forbid, the grass stains on the ivory tulle would be a tragedy. Instead, I stood at the center of the pitch, surrounded by my sisters in their crowns and silks, and looked into the imaginary mirrors of the sky.
    In my Satin Wonderland, I am a queen. At Wembley, in my POMPÖÖS layers of black and white, I was a princess of the game. Oh my, indeed.
    I live within a sanctuary of reflection, a shimmering Satin Wonderland of towering, gilded mirrors that capture every fold of my existence. I am a creature of history, a mature queen of a certain vintage, and my world is defined by the rustle of fabric. Here, I am swaddled in an endless supply of sissy satin dresses, gowns that trail like silken rivers, and gloves that reach toward my shoulders, smoothing the passage of time. "Oh my," I whisper to my reflection, my voice a raspy cello. "Today is the day for the hallowed turf." But one does not simply walk onto the pitch at Wembley Stadium to play British football without the proper armor. This is not a match for jerseys and cleats; this is a clash of POMPÖÖS Couture. I began my transformation with the foundation of my "entity." First, I stepped into the ivory white modest high neck satin evening dress. It is a plus size masterpiece of elegance, the long balloon sleeves puffing out like clouds of cream, the flowing tulle skirt whispering secrets against my ankles. But as the London air turned crisp and the fog began to roll off the Thames, I felt the call for more. I reached for the wedding gown, its chiffon veil a ghostly mist. I wrapped a heavy ivory satin headscarf tightly around my skull, securing my wisdom and my wig beneath its weight. Then, I layered. I pulled on the Victorian style black ankle length dress a triumph of high necklines, puffed bell sleeves, ruffles, and intricate lace trim. As I pulled the black gown over the white, the layers merged. I was no longer wearing two dresses; I was wearing a singular, monumental entity composed of Satin, Taffeta, Georgette, Chiffon, and Organza. To finish the silhouette, I added the poofy, extravagant, ultra femme large ladies’ flamboyant satin skirt over the hips, creating a volume so vast I could barely fit through the mahogany doors of my dressing room. I looked at my vanity. Seven large headscarves black and white laid out for the week. I chose a heavy black Georgette to wrap over the white satin, pinning it with a rhinestone crown. I slid on my newly found long opera gloves, the silk pulling tight against my skin, and stepped into my elegant shoes. Wembley was a sea of POMPÖÖS madness. Twenty two drag queens, each a monument to Glööckler’s baroque vision, stood upon the emerald grass. Rhinestones caught the stadium lights like a thousand stars fallen to earth. There was Trixie in a gold leafed bodice and Bella in a crimson velvet train that required two ball boys to carry. "Right then, girls!" I shouted, the wind catching my chiffon veil. "Let’s show them how a lady tackles!" The whistle blew. I didn't run; I glided. The multiple layers of my dress the Georgette over the Taffeta, the Organza beneath the Satin created a rhythmic shush shush sound that drowned out the roar of the crowd. When the ball came toward me, I didn't kick it with the grace of a sportsman; I met it with the immovable force of three hundred yards of couture. The ball hit my flamboyant satin skirt and simply died, swallowed by the sheer volume of my ruffles. I pivoted, my bell sleeves catching the wind like sails. I saw an opening. With a flick of my opera-gloved hand to steady my headscarf, I sent the ball flying toward the goal with a delicate tap of my elegant heel. As the net bulged, the stadium erupted. I didn't celebrate with a slide on the grass heaven forbid, the grass stains on the ivory tulle would be a tragedy. Instead, I stood at the center of the pitch, surrounded by my sisters in their crowns and silks, and looked into the imaginary mirrors of the sky. In my Satin Wonderland, I am a queen. At Wembley, in my POMPÖÖS layers of black and white, I was a princess of the game. Oh my, indeed.
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  • Does my bum look big in this?
    Does my bum look big in this?
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    Yay
    5
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  • Patti has her dancing dress on, feeling so girly dancing around. Who would like to dance with me ? I promise I only bite if bitten, I’m very soft and love to kiss
    Patti has her dancing dress on, feeling so girly dancing around. Who would like to dance with me ? I promise I only bite if bitten, I’m very soft and love to kiss
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  • https://youtu.be/cWaBU1_bIYk?si=95yf23irX-nnCsR9
    https://youtu.be/cWaBU1_bIYk?si=95yf23irX-nnCsR9
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  • I really live the feel of Satin String Bikini Panty. My FAVORITES
    I really live the feel of Satin String Bikini Panty. My FAVORITES
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  • A silver cut

    I ve made
    This silver shade
    I ve made
    This lesbi cut...
    Am I attractive more?
    You wish retreate
    Not f...k?
    Im lost
    My breasts are small
    That s good for lesbi girl
    My voice is not to high
    But not so manly wild
    But body....
    Is too soft
    Too feminine
    Too gentle
    What could
    I do with soul
    My Girly soul
    Trembles...
    I ve made my lashes
    Small
    I shadowed pink my
    Eyes.
    My lips are waiting kiss
    Of girl...
    Girl in disgise...

    My lips are waiting
    For your kiss
    I know trembling taste
    I wish to meet you
    Magic Miss
    Who will seduce my lace...
    Who knows where
    Touch me right
    Bring pleasure
    Lust and fire
    Who cuddles simply
    Girl to Girl
    And grows my admire...
    I want forget
    My hide as boy
    I wish you understand
    I wish orgasm
    Orgasm of girl
    And not for one night stand...
    I want you open me
    My dress will fall for you in night...
    My Darling lead me to confess
    With you in Paradise ...
    A silver cut I ve made This silver shade I ve made This lesbi cut... Am I attractive more? You wish retreate Not f...k? Im lost My breasts are small That s good for lesbi girl My voice is not to high But not so manly wild But body.... Is too soft Too feminine Too gentle What could I do with soul My Girly soul Trembles... I ve made my lashes Small I shadowed pink my Eyes. My lips are waiting kiss Of girl... Girl in disgise... My lips are waiting For your kiss I know trembling taste I wish to meet you Magic Miss Who will seduce my lace... Who knows where Touch me right Bring pleasure Lust and fire Who cuddles simply Girl to Girl And grows my admire... I want forget My hide as boy I wish you understand I wish orgasm Orgasm of girl And not for one night stand... I want you open me My dress will fall for you in night... My Darling lead me to confess With you in Paradise ...
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  • Used Part 1

    A Local Man got in touch saying that his wife was away Monday to Thursday so he had 3 days free if I was interested in fully servicing his needs, he sent me the obligatory photos with the assurance that he would be Smooth and wearing his wife's Stockings or Holdups, after seeing the photos as far as I was concerned I had no choice at all, I felt it was my duty to go... He was around 7" when Hard so a nice length but he was twice as thick as me, so was extremely impressive.
    I said yes I will do what I can for you and I asked where he had found me, he said he came across all my stories and that was that.
    So I new he knew what I look for even before we met...I could tell he was just a regular guy taking advantage of my details and likes.
    He then said what are you doing Monday, I said I'm at work Monday 6am till 2.30pm then pick my Wife up at 5pm....
    He new he was only up the road from me and said he wanted a visit, first thing in the morning about 5.10am before work then another straight from work around 2.45pm and at 4pm before collecting your wife.. .
    I thought WTF .... And just said yes of course...
    Again letting myself down.
    I turned up at 5.10am where he let me in still in robe, he was tall and stocky not that it mattered, he sent me with my bag into the bathroom to get ready.. Then he suddenly shouted forget getting ready just put a wig on as I can't be bothered this early.. oh ok so I grabbed my wig, brushed the long blonde hair and went into the bedroom where he grabbed a pillow and threw it on the floor between the bed and the wall which was quite tight....
    He said that's for you so I went over and knelt on it, he squeezed past still with robe on and sat down on the edge of the bed in front of me, he then lay back, and spread his legs placing them on the wall behind me, his large thick Co ck hanging there smooth shaven, Head back ready, just calling to me to help myself.... Not that I had a choice.
    He just said help yourself and let yourself out when you have done, he was right over the edge as he was well supported on the wall, his smooth sacks were hanging too, not too big just nice, I lifted his large shaft with my hand and cupped his head in my mouth, wetting and sucking best I could, as he started to get harder I switched to two hands, wanking and sucking at the same time, I got used as he got hard, his co ck like mine was very flexible and could lie flat and co ck straight out into my mouth, as time was short I switched to Sucking as tight as I could behind his co ck head a couple of inches back and forth concentrating on moving the loose skin making the most sensation possible, luckily after several intensive minutes he suddenly sat up, grabbed my head, re inserted his co ck, and with his big hands held my head firm and used me to Head Fu ck, sliding me up and down his shaft, on odd occasions making me gag as he hit my throat...
    He was getting faster, and started to moan. .
    He said Don't Waste any ..
    Suddenly he paused with co ck head just in, and a massive blast filled my mouth, I swallowed as quick as I could, which was tricky with his thick load, my mouth was full again, I kept swallowing and then one last half blast, filled me again, eventually I swallowed it all up, he lay back and said clean up the drops and then go and I will see you later at 2:45pm
    I cleaned the last few drops as he shrank down, licked his eye a few last times making sure it was clean and serviced properly..
    I left my bag ready and went to work.. .
    Used Part 1 A Local Man got in touch saying that his wife was away Monday to Thursday so he had 3 days free if I was interested in fully servicing his needs, he sent me the obligatory photos with the assurance that he would be Smooth and wearing his wife's Stockings or Holdups, after seeing the photos as far as I was concerned I had no choice at all, I felt it was my duty to go... He was around 7" when Hard so a nice length but he was twice as thick as me, so was extremely impressive. I said yes I will do what I can for you and I asked where he had found me, he said he came across all my stories and that was that. So I new he knew what I look for even before we met...I could tell he was just a regular guy taking advantage of my details and likes. He then said what are you doing Monday, I said I'm at work Monday 6am till 2.30pm then pick my Wife up at 5pm.... He new he was only up the road from me and said he wanted a visit, first thing in the morning about 5.10am before work then another straight from work around 2.45pm and at 4pm before collecting your wife.. . I thought WTF .... And just said yes of course... Again letting myself down. I turned up at 5.10am where he let me in still in robe, he was tall and stocky not that it mattered, he sent me with my bag into the bathroom to get ready.. Then he suddenly shouted forget getting ready just put a wig on as I can't be bothered this early.. oh ok so I grabbed my wig, brushed the long blonde hair and went into the bedroom where he grabbed a pillow and threw it on the floor between the bed and the wall which was quite tight.... He said that's for you so I went over and knelt on it, he squeezed past still with robe on and sat down on the edge of the bed in front of me, he then lay back, and spread his legs placing them on the wall behind me, his large thick Co ck hanging there smooth shaven, Head back ready, just calling to me to help myself.... Not that I had a choice. He just said help yourself and let yourself out when you have done, he was right over the edge as he was well supported on the wall, his smooth sacks were hanging too, not too big just nice, I lifted his large shaft with my hand and cupped his head in my mouth, wetting and sucking best I could, as he started to get harder I switched to two hands, wanking and sucking at the same time, I got used as he got hard, his co ck like mine was very flexible and could lie flat and co ck straight out into my mouth, as time was short I switched to Sucking as tight as I could behind his co ck head a couple of inches back and forth concentrating on moving the loose skin making the most sensation possible, luckily after several intensive minutes he suddenly sat up, grabbed my head, re inserted his co ck, and with his big hands held my head firm and used me to Head Fu ck, sliding me up and down his shaft, on odd occasions making me gag as he hit my throat... He was getting faster, and started to moan. . He said Don't Waste any .. Suddenly he paused with co ck head just in, and a massive blast filled my mouth, I swallowed as quick as I could, which was tricky with his thick load, my mouth was full again, I kept swallowing and then one last half blast, filled me again, eventually I swallowed it all up, he lay back and said clean up the drops and then go and I will see you later at 2:45pm I cleaned the last few drops as he shrank down, licked his eye a few last times making sure it was clean and serviced properly.. I left my bag ready and went to work.. .
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  • Not posting a photo right now - but I have over 20 ready to post. Really like to know what my BGFs and BBFs like? - Colors- settings/locations - dresses - swimsuits/bikinies - dance and athletic wear - sexy night wear. And I love to answer questions and chat when I can. I will always respond. And yes "body talk" is also OK. Tell me about your journeys, experiences dressing and life stories - also questions about crossdressing - lets connect a bit.
    Not posting a photo right now - but I have over 20 ready to post. Really like to know what my BGFs and BBFs like? - Colors- settings/locations - dresses - swimsuits/bikinies - dance and athletic wear - sexy night wear. And I love to answer questions and chat when I can. I will always respond. And yes "body talk" is also OK. Tell me about your journeys, experiences dressing and life stories - also questions about crossdressing - lets connect a bit. 🥰
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  • I changed make up
    To very bi...
    And silver pale shade
    My age's not passing
    Verifiiii
    So I could not engage...
    In world of dangerous
    Bi girls
    That might seduce me
    By heart force...

    I wear baby shorts
    And lace
    Long boots without heels
    Perhaps it is too childish
    Suit
    For guys in verifiiii?....
    I changed make up To very bi... And silver pale shade My age's not passing Verifiiii So I could not engage... In world of dangerous Bi girls That might seduce me By heart force... I wear baby shorts And lace Long boots without heels Perhaps it is too childish Suit For guys in verifiiii?....
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    4
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  • Tammy's ex missus has stolen all my sluty outfits and my big fat dildo. So I have to start my sissy collection all over again. Tammy would love to **** my arse with my 9" dildo right now and video it to show you all, but all I have is my fingers
    Tammy's ex missus has stolen all my sluty outfits and my big fat dildo. So I have to start my sissy collection all over again. Tammy would love to fuck my arse with my 9" dildo right now and video it to show you all, but all I have is my fingers
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  • Tip of the day, if you decide to wear 40DEN bikini pantyhose, you dont need to wear underwear! isn't it great?
    Tip of the day, if you decide to wear 40DEN bikini pantyhose, you dont need to wear underwear! isn't it great? 🥰
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    13
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  • Abit of bride dressup ! In my veil and short pvc skirt giggles x
    #pvcskaterskirt #pettiskirt #stockings #suspenders #highheels
    Abit of bride dressup ! In my veil and short pvc skirt giggles x #pvcskaterskirt #pettiskirt #stockings #suspenders #highheels
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    9
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  • Loves to be dressup in Babydoll and Satin String Bikini Paties... who wanna play?
    Loves to be dressup in Babydoll and Satin String Bikini Paties... who wanna play?
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    12
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  • Bent over the worktop I should be doing washing up ! Think my petticoats should be rearranged abit hehe 🫢giggles
    #skirt #petticoat #stockings #suspenders #highheels
    Bent over the worktop I should be doing washing up ! Think my petticoats should be rearranged abit hehe 🫢giggles #skirt #petticoat #stockings #suspenders #highheels
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    2
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  • I wish I knew where I got this from, but whatever... I even like this combination, what about you?
    I wish I knew where I got this from, but whatever... I even like this combination, what about you?
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  • Charity shops are definitely my vendor of choice, and dear old mum forced the price of the bits i'd paid on Paypal into my hand, in shop i've never visited before this YEAR's Star Prize black leather mid-shin length Infinity trenchcoat - looks like it's never been worn!

    What to wear under it though? I was chatting to the volunteer in the DEBRA shop, who thought just basque, stockings and heels would be a good look…
    Charity shops are definitely my vendor of choice, and dear old mum forced the price of the bits i'd paid on Paypal into my hand, in shop i've never visited before this YEAR's ✨ Star Prize ✨ black leather mid-shin length Infinity trenchcoat - looks like it's never been worn! What to wear under it though? I was chatting to the volunteer in the DEBRA shop, who thought just basque, stockings and heels would be a good look…
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  • As my close friend would say, ripped jeans and fishnet tights are a killer combination.

    What do you think about that? is she right?
    As my close friend would say, ripped jeans and fishnet tights are a killer combination. 💪😁 What do you think about that? is she right?
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  • A simple white t-shirt and gray plaid pants are a winning combination for a modern and relaxed look.​ I really Like this outfit.

    What is your favorite piece of clothing to achieve maximum comfort without sacrificing style?
    A simple white t-shirt and gray plaid pants are a winning combination for a modern and relaxed look.​ I really Like this outfit. 🥰❤️ What is your favorite piece of clothing to achieve maximum comfort without sacrificing style? 🤔
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  • in case you are wondering, yes - those are wolford neon 40. gobi.
    dedicated to a special friend i met here
    in case you are wondering, yes - those are wolford neon 40. gobi. dedicated to a special friend i met here
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  • A bit of swinging in London (AI assisted)
    A bit of swinging in London (AI assisted)
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    6
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  • Is today a good day or a bad day? So running around doing work, meeting schedules and visiting family in down time. Then get home and sit down to dinner and break a front tooth! Mmm, wel it's been in there a while, and false due to a stupid young daft shite that liked motorbikes! So anyway, The bit that broke could possibly be superglued back in?? maybe not! Or an expensive trip to the extortionate feckin dentist! Now I could say that I could do sexual acts for cash! But that is against the rules on here, and who wants a bint with half a domino missing? So thinking I could just build a new one from modelling hard putty or something like that!
    Is today a good day or a bad day? So running around doing work, meeting schedules and visiting family in down time. Then get home and sit down to dinner and break a front tooth! Mmm, wel it's been in there a while, and false due to a stupid young daft shite that liked motorbikes! So anyway, The bit that broke could possibly be superglued back in?? maybe not! Or an expensive trip to the extortionate feckin dentist! Now I could say that I could do sexual acts for cash! But that is against the rules on here, and who wants a bint with half a domino missing? So thinking I could just build a new one from modelling hard putty or something like that! 😁
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  • I got my latex skater skirt on a little bit of ASMR wearing the latex skirt x
    #latexskirt #asmr #petticoat #stockings #suspenders #highheels
    I got my latex skater skirt on a little bit of ASMR wearing the latex skirt x #latexskirt #asmr #petticoat #stockings #suspenders #highheels
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  • A CD called Kev got in touch wanting to meet up but we had a problem we both are married and could not easily accommodate so it seemed like a non starter from the beginning, it was a shame as we had near enough the same CD preferences, kev was Smooth where it was needed and he was Into Lingerie like me, as we chatted it was clear that he had a no mess approach to knowing what he wanted, which is exactly what most want if they were honest about it.
    I told him that I finish work around 2pm and I'm home changed and trimmed by 3pm the only problem is my wife can turn up anytime even though she finished at 5pm...
    I told him I often work in my Shed/Workshop which is heated but it's not exactly comfortable..
    He suggested that if he arrived for about 3pm we could have fun of some sort in the workshop that way if the wife came back early, I could suggest it was a colleague from work...
    I thaught it out and to be honest could not come up with a reason not to, so arrangements were made, we had discussed him being dressed already under his normal clothes, which I did the same after I fully prepared myself in the bathroom.
    Kev arrived and after a quick greeting and chat, he used the bathroom to freshen up after his trip.. we then made our way to my small workshop now as tidy as it ever was and already nice and warm with my fan heaters.
    I locked the door, and this is always a nervous part, I always ask if he/she wants to carry on and most of the time it's a yes, so I take off my Joggers, revealing Stocking Tights and Tiny Sheer Thong, I grabbed a bag which had my Red Stilettos and a Basque which I asked Kev to help with as they can be a bitch to get on, zipped ones are best.. Kev then removed his Joggers and he had Crotchless Tights then grabbed his bad and surprised me with some 2" Stilettos which was a little bonus, he had regular black Knickers but only his regular T-shirt on top, I suggested he, tie/knotted his t-shirt at the front, which was perfect...
    I wasted no time and asked him to remove his knickers which he did, I did the same, I was trying to keep Calm and not get over excited.
    I grabbed a seat cushion and put it on my workbench and pulled myself up onto the edge, I opened my legs, holding my knees and said, help yourself....
    Kev dropped to his knees, put his arms round my thighs and sucked my semi into his mouth, giving it a full mouth wetting, unsurprisingly I started to get hard, at which he switched to sucking up and down my now solid ****....
    I said stop, we swapped, I did the same, I slid his beautiful smooth **** into my mouth, already hard, after giving it a good wetting I cupped his **** with my lips just behind his **** head, then I did quick short sucks up and down, nice and tight, no more than two inches movement, up and down... It had the correct result, moaning with pleasure, after a few minutes we swapped again, then again, eventually we were both fairly close, I grabbed the sun bed cover and lay it on the floor, I lay down and asked him to 69....
    No arguments there. .. he got on top sliding his hard shaft in my mouth ready, I started on him again as he did with me, after a few more minutes I was getting close, I said pause, which he did, then a few more minutes he said he was getting close, so I said start, he wasted no time, sucking the life out of my hard ****,vivwad close again, I started oh his again, really going for it.... A minute or two later, I shot my load into his mouth, he was swallowing just as my mouth was being filled twice with his juice, oh my got this Feed was amazing....
    We were both so pleased with our Feeds, it was definitely on the list for the next available moment, to feed again....

    A CD called Kev got in touch wanting to meet up but we had a problem we both are married and could not easily accommodate so it seemed like a non starter from the beginning, it was a shame as we had near enough the same CD preferences, kev was Smooth where it was needed and he was Into Lingerie like me, as we chatted it was clear that he had a no mess approach to knowing what he wanted, which is exactly what most want if they were honest about it. I told him that I finish work around 2pm and I'm home changed and trimmed by 3pm the only problem is my wife can turn up anytime even though she finished at 5pm... I told him I often work in my Shed/Workshop which is heated but it's not exactly comfortable.. He suggested that if he arrived for about 3pm we could have fun of some sort in the workshop that way if the wife came back early, I could suggest it was a colleague from work... I thaught it out and to be honest could not come up with a reason not to, so arrangements were made, we had discussed him being dressed already under his normal clothes, which I did the same after I fully prepared myself in the bathroom. Kev arrived and after a quick greeting and chat, he used the bathroom to freshen up after his trip.. we then made our way to my small workshop now as tidy as it ever was and already nice and warm with my fan heaters. I locked the door, and this is always a nervous part, I always ask if he/she wants to carry on and most of the time it's a yes, so I take off my Joggers, revealing Stocking Tights and Tiny Sheer Thong, I grabbed a bag which had my Red Stilettos and a Basque which I asked Kev to help with as they can be a bitch to get on, zipped ones are best.. Kev then removed his Joggers and he had Crotchless Tights then grabbed his bad and surprised me with some 2" Stilettos which was a little bonus, he had regular black Knickers but only his regular T-shirt on top, I suggested he, tie/knotted his t-shirt at the front, which was perfect... I wasted no time and asked him to remove his knickers which he did, I did the same, I was trying to keep Calm and not get over excited. I grabbed a seat cushion and put it on my workbench and pulled myself up onto the edge, I opened my legs, holding my knees and said, help yourself.... Kev dropped to his knees, put his arms round my thighs and sucked my semi into his mouth, giving it a full mouth wetting, unsurprisingly I started to get hard, at which he switched to sucking up and down my now solid cock.... I said stop, we swapped, I did the same, I slid his beautiful smooth cock into my mouth, already hard, after giving it a good wetting I cupped his cock with my lips just behind his cock head, then I did quick short sucks up and down, nice and tight, no more than two inches movement, up and down... It had the correct result, moaning with pleasure, after a few minutes we swapped again, then again, eventually we were both fairly close, I grabbed the sun bed cover and lay it on the floor, I lay down and asked him to 69.... No arguments there. .. he got on top sliding his hard shaft in my mouth ready, I started on him again as he did with me, after a few more minutes I was getting close, I said pause, which he did, then a few more minutes he said he was getting close, so I said start, he wasted no time, sucking the life out of my hard cock,vivwad close again, I started oh his again, really going for it.... A minute or two later, I shot my load into his mouth, he was swallowing just as my mouth was being filled twice with his juice, oh my got this Feed was amazing.... We were both so pleased with our Feeds, it was definitely on the list for the next available moment, to feed again....
    Derby/Nottingham UK CD
    Read Story "Mike Asked for help" about this picture.
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  • Ohhhhhh! This is so me! Mmmmm https://youtu.be/TFe5_GX5nsg?si=1RbT38gjWdKiyk5V
    https://youtu.be/Zos-Da_hhj4?si=rwFOYItvZYM3fd_l
    Ohhhhhh the big pink dress!
    Ohhhhhh! This is so me! Mmmmm 💗💗🍆https://youtu.be/TFe5_GX5nsg?si=1RbT38gjWdKiyk5V https://youtu.be/Zos-Da_hhj4?si=rwFOYItvZYM3fd_l Ohhhhhh the big pink dress!
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  • Lycra safety shorts on lol abit of fun was wearing suspenders underneath though giggles x
    #lycrashorts #laceskirt #pettiskirt #stockings #suspenders #highheels
    Lycra safety shorts on lol 😂 abit of fun was wearing suspenders underneath though giggles x ❤️ #lycrashorts #laceskirt #pettiskirt #stockings #suspenders #highheels
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    2
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  • Girls and Guys on this app i just wanted to let you guys know that my phone is currently being fixed for the billionth time this year lol I'm very clumsy sometimes so don't expect new pics of me until my phone gets fixed again and my pc doesn't have a camera :(
    Girls and Guys on this app i just wanted to let you guys know that my phone is currently being fixed for the billionth time this year lol I'm very clumsy sometimes so don't expect new pics of me until my phone gets fixed again and my pc doesn't have a camera :(
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    4
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  • Abigail Imogen…..xx
    Abigail Imogen…..xx
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    14
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  • Tell me whats sexier than a caramel skin barbie with eyes like a tiger
    Tell me whats sexier than a caramel skin barbie with eyes like a tiger
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    19
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  • Some people are truly taught what to think not how to think and that's ok but don't call me ignorant or bigoted when you can't comprehend the information being presented to you.
    Some people are truly taught what to think not how to think and that's ok but don't call me ignorant or bigoted when you can't comprehend the information being presented to you.
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    6
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  • A few weeks old this pic, I would love to go out clubbing dressed like this though. It would feel so naughty
    A few weeks old this pic, I would love to go out clubbing dressed like this though. It would feel so naughty
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  • Wife gone to bed so feeling a bit gay now
    Wife gone to bed so feeling a bit gay now
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    4
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  • Abi Imogen…..

    But damn I look good xx
    Abi Imogen….. But damn I look good xx
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    7
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  • Hey there anyone wanna chat for a bit?
    Hey there anyone wanna chat for a bit?
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    23
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  • https://youtu.be/Zos-Da_hhj4?si=1esar7dvwGTFbYvP This would be my dream! To dress up in a huge pink victorian dress and invite my victorian lady round for tea in her big victorian dress!
    https://youtu.be/Zos-Da_hhj4?si=1esar7dvwGTFbYvP This would be my dream! To dress up in a huge pink victorian dress and invite my victorian lady round for tea in her big victorian dress! 💗💗💗
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  • POMPÖÖS Couture Living in a Satin Wonderland of Sissy Satin Dresses, Sissy Satin Gowns, Sissy Satin Gloves and Big Mirrors. Oh My!
    POMPÖÖS Couture Living in a Satin Wonderland of Sissy Satin Dresses, Sissy Satin Gowns, Sissy Satin Gloves and Big Mirrors. Oh My!
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    2
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  • My non binary self
    My non binary self
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    13
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  • I am sixty four, unemployed after caring for the last few years for my wife, and a widower of exactly three months. My wife died from a long ilness on the 12th of November 2025. The house is a 1970s terraced end of row in a quiet Midlands estate, two up, two down, pebble dash front, UPVC windows, the kind of place where neighbours know when you put the bins out. No children, long grown up and moved away, nor other family members, just me and the central heating that clicks on at six-thirty every morning whether I want it to or not.
    We were married forty five years. I worked in the same warehouse until they made me redundant in 2020, she kept the books for a small solicitor until her diagnosis. After the funeral I sold her car, cancelled the window cleaner, and the weekly supermarket internet shopping and started drawing on my tiny pension. The days are long and the nights are longer.
    Most evenings I sit in the front room with the curtains drawn and the television on mute. Tonight the house feels smaller than usual. The clock on the mantelpiece says 21:17. I stand up, switch off the lamp, and walk upstairs in the dark.
    In the spare bedroom her sewing room that became my dressing room I open the tall IKEA wardrobe. The left side is still her dresses and coats. The right side is mine: the secret side. Rows of satin headscarves in every colour, polyester foulards bought on eBay, oversized satin hijabs in midnight black and charcoal, metres and metres of sheer chiffon voile in black, graphite, and the deepest ink. Some still smell faintly of the fabric softener she used.
    I undress slowly. The mirror on the wardrobe door is cheap and slightly warped, but it is honest. Naked, sixty-four, soft belly, thin legs, the body of a man who has outlived his usefulness. I reach for the black satin corset first, cheap second hand eBay corset lingerie, lightly boned, size 3XL. I hook it closed until my waist and soft belly shrink and my breathing turns shallower. Then the high waisted black satin knickers, the sheer black stockings with the wide lace tops, the long line black satin slip that whispers against my skin like a promise.
    Next the dress: a full skirted 1950s style mourning day dress made from heavy black polyester satin, high collar, long sleeves, hem that brushes my ankles. Over it I tie a wide black satin sash that cinches across my contained belly. The fabric is slippery, cool, obscene in its shine.
    Now the head. This is the part that matters most.
    I choose the largest satin hijab first, jet black, 140 cm square, heavy bridal satin that catches every stray bit of light. I fold it into a triangle, drape it over my head so the point hangs down my back, then bring the two ends under my chin and tie them in a tight knot at the nape of my neck. The satin lies glossy and taut across my forehead, smooth over my ears, covering every grey hair. It feels like being sealed.
    Over the satin I pin a second layer: a sheer black chiffon voile scarf, almost transparent, 120 cm square. I drape it loosely so it falls across my face like a mourner’s veil from another century, but softer, more sensual. The chiffon drifts against my lips when I breathe. I can see through it, only just, but the world is softened, blurred, intimate. I add a third scarf, a smaller polyester foulard in charcoal, tied bandana style over the top to weight the chiffon down and keep it in place. The layers stack: satin underneath, chiffon floating, polyester binding. My face is gone. Only eyes, mouth, the suggestion of a nose remain.
    I step back. The mirror shows a figure that is neither man nor woman, neither past nor present. A black satin widow from a fever dream. The train of the dress drags on the cheap carpet, the petticoat beneath it rustles. Every movement makes the satin sigh.
    I walk downstairs like this, tiny steps because the corset and the long skirt will allow nothing else. The chiffon veil brushes my lashes. In the kitchen I pour a large whisky with gloved hands, black satin opera gloves that reach my elbows. I carry the glass into the living room, sit on the sofa, cross my legs at the ankle the way she used to. The layers of satin and chiffon settle around me like a second skin.
    Outside, a car passes. Inside, the only sound is the soft hiss of fabric when I breathe.
    Three months a widower. Forty five years a husband. Sixty four years a man who has always, secretly, wanted to disappear inside silk and satin and the soft prison of a veil.
    I lift the edge of the chiffon just enough to sip the whisky. The taste is sharp against the sweetness of the fabric against my mouth. Then I let the veil fall again.
    In this house, in this year 2026, no one is watching.
    No one will ever know.
    And for the first time since November, I feel almost at peace
    perfectly veiled,
    perfectly hidden,
    perfectly hers.
    I am sixty four, unemployed after caring for the last few years for my wife, and a widower of exactly three months. My wife died from a long ilness on the 12th of November 2025. The house is a 1970s terraced end of row in a quiet Midlands estate, two up, two down, pebble dash front, UPVC windows, the kind of place where neighbours know when you put the bins out. No children, long grown up and moved away, nor other family members, just me and the central heating that clicks on at six-thirty every morning whether I want it to or not. We were married forty five years. I worked in the same warehouse until they made me redundant in 2020, she kept the books for a small solicitor until her diagnosis. After the funeral I sold her car, cancelled the window cleaner, and the weekly supermarket internet shopping and started drawing on my tiny pension. The days are long and the nights are longer. Most evenings I sit in the front room with the curtains drawn and the television on mute. Tonight the house feels smaller than usual. The clock on the mantelpiece says 21:17. I stand up, switch off the lamp, and walk upstairs in the dark. In the spare bedroom her sewing room that became my dressing room I open the tall IKEA wardrobe. The left side is still her dresses and coats. The right side is mine: the secret side. Rows of satin headscarves in every colour, polyester foulards bought on eBay, oversized satin hijabs in midnight black and charcoal, metres and metres of sheer chiffon voile in black, graphite, and the deepest ink. Some still smell faintly of the fabric softener she used. I undress slowly. The mirror on the wardrobe door is cheap and slightly warped, but it is honest. Naked, sixty-four, soft belly, thin legs, the body of a man who has outlived his usefulness. I reach for the black satin corset first, cheap second hand eBay corset lingerie, lightly boned, size 3XL. I hook it closed until my waist and soft belly shrink and my breathing turns shallower. Then the high waisted black satin knickers, the sheer black stockings with the wide lace tops, the long line black satin slip that whispers against my skin like a promise. Next the dress: a full skirted 1950s style mourning day dress made from heavy black polyester satin, high collar, long sleeves, hem that brushes my ankles. Over it I tie a wide black satin sash that cinches across my contained belly. The fabric is slippery, cool, obscene in its shine. Now the head. This is the part that matters most. I choose the largest satin hijab first, jet black, 140 cm square, heavy bridal satin that catches every stray bit of light. I fold it into a triangle, drape it over my head so the point hangs down my back, then bring the two ends under my chin and tie them in a tight knot at the nape of my neck. The satin lies glossy and taut across my forehead, smooth over my ears, covering every grey hair. It feels like being sealed. Over the satin I pin a second layer: a sheer black chiffon voile scarf, almost transparent, 120 cm square. I drape it loosely so it falls across my face like a mourner’s veil from another century, but softer, more sensual. The chiffon drifts against my lips when I breathe. I can see through it, only just, but the world is softened, blurred, intimate. I add a third scarf, a smaller polyester foulard in charcoal, tied bandana style over the top to weight the chiffon down and keep it in place. The layers stack: satin underneath, chiffon floating, polyester binding. My face is gone. Only eyes, mouth, the suggestion of a nose remain. I step back. The mirror shows a figure that is neither man nor woman, neither past nor present. A black satin widow from a fever dream. The train of the dress drags on the cheap carpet, the petticoat beneath it rustles. Every movement makes the satin sigh. I walk downstairs like this, tiny steps because the corset and the long skirt will allow nothing else. The chiffon veil brushes my lashes. In the kitchen I pour a large whisky with gloved hands, black satin opera gloves that reach my elbows. I carry the glass into the living room, sit on the sofa, cross my legs at the ankle the way she used to. The layers of satin and chiffon settle around me like a second skin. Outside, a car passes. Inside, the only sound is the soft hiss of fabric when I breathe. Three months a widower. Forty five years a husband. Sixty four years a man who has always, secretly, wanted to disappear inside silk and satin and the soft prison of a veil. I lift the edge of the chiffon just enough to sip the whisky. The taste is sharp against the sweetness of the fabric against my mouth. Then I let the veil fall again. In this house, in this year 2026, no one is watching. No one will ever know. And for the first time since November, I feel almost at peace perfectly veiled, perfectly hidden, perfectly hers.
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  • Taking a leaf out of the jungle or in this case Jasmine and Leanne offerings of leopard print x or can be a skirt with bikini top!
    Taking a leaf out of the jungle or in this case Jasmine and Leanne offerings of leopard print x or can be a skirt with bikini top!
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  • I'm recruiting newbie subs that wants to serve me and get trained and completely owned by Me #sissyslut #femboy
    I'm recruiting newbie subs that wants to serve me and get trained and completely owned by Me #sissyslut #femboy
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  • I’m about tonight and chat is open to connect.
    Check my bio so you know what I’m about.
    Married and crossdressing since my teen years. Friendly and fun.
    I’m about tonight and chat is open to connect. Check my bio so you know what I’m about. Married and crossdressing since my teen years. Friendly and fun.
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    3
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  • Without all the Domme-Scammers, Mattresses, Godlesses and hairy-sausagfe-wavers, who the F am i going to get my bitchiness practice on????

    (It's a serious improvement though!)
    Without all the Domme-Scammers, Mattresses, Godlesses and hairy-sausagfe-wavers, who the F am i going to get my bitchiness practice on???? (It's a serious improvement though!)
    Haha
    Like
    12
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  • Getting seriously sick of this every time I log into the page. The first one is on my desktop PC and I can't log in anymore as I don't have a webcam. The second is a photo of my Android mobile, every single time I log in. Thank you to the comments, I've got back on the desktop site using the passkey, still an arse way backwards (ooherr!) for logging in though.
    Getting seriously sick of this every time I log into the page. The first one is on my desktop PC and I can't log in anymore as I don't have a webcam. The second is a photo of my Android mobile, every single time I log in. Thank you to the comments, I've got back on the desktop site using the passkey, still an arse way backwards (ooherr!) for logging in though.
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  • Finally coming out as non binary.
    Finally coming out as non binary. 💛🤍💜🖤
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    9
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