I know this is not Crossdressing related but this was my pet lamb when he was a Baby his name is Freddy

CD Stories Group Now has FREE Naughty Chat xxx
https://www.crossdressing.co.uk/groups/CD.Stories

The rain hammered down on the cracked pavement like a thousand accusations, each drop a reminder that the world had gone to hell in a handbasket back in '52, when the bombs fell and turned the City of Angels into a monochrome nightmare. I adjusted the strap of my garter belt under my trench coat, feeling the silk stockings whisper against my skin like a forbidden secret. Name's Tracy with a Dick, wait, no, that's too on the nose. Call me Hanimefendi Basortulu, or just Han if you're buying the drinks. By day, I'm the hard boiled gumshoe pounding the shadowed alleys of this irradiated husk of Los Angeles, dodging mutants and mobsters in equal measure. But when the neon flickers out and the Dutch angles of my life tilt just right, I'm something else entirely: a crossdressing sissy in satin, chasing skirts instead of skirts chasing me.
It started with a dame, like all my stories do. Or at least, that's how I tell it to the mirror while I paint my lips ruby red in the dim glow of my office bulb the one that swings like a noose in the wind howling through the boarded up windows. The apocalypse had stripped the city bare, leaving behind skeletal skyscrapers leaning at crazy angles, their glass eyes shattered from the blasts. Food was rationed, water was poison, and hope? That was a luxury for the pre war fools. Me? I survived by sniffing out secrets in the fog of fallout, my fedora pulled low over eyes shadowed with kohl I swiped from a ruined department store.
She slinked into my office that night, a vision in tattered mink and desperation. "Mr. Basortulu," she purred, her voice cutting through the static of my battered radio spitting out old jazz tunes. "I need a man who can handle... delicate matters." Her eyes flicked to my desk, where a stray lipstick tube had rolled out from under some files. I snatched it up quick, heart pounding like a tommy gun. If she noticed, she didn't let on. Her husband, a big shot fallout bunker baron hoarding pre war hooch, had vanished into the undercity the labyrinth of sewers and subways where the real monsters lurked, glowing with radiation and grudge.
I took the case because rent was due, and because her perfume smelled like the lilacs that used to bloom before the sky turned perpetual gray. Slipping out the back door, I ditched the coat for my real armor: a frilly silken blouse tucked into a satin pencil skirt, heels that clicked like gunshots on the debris strewn streets. Crossdressing wasn't just a kink in this apocalypse; it was camouflage. The goons patrolling the ruins looked for tough guys in suits, not a mincing minx batting lashes from the shadows. I'd learned that the hard way, back when the first riots hit and I hid in a drag queen's bunker, emerging reborn in marabou feathers, silk, satin, lace and lies.
The trail led me to the Dutch Tilt District, where buildings leaned like drunks at last call, their angles throwing everything off kilter just like my life. I tailed a suspect through the monochrome haze, my wig itching under the fedora I'd crammed back on. He was a weasel faced rat, peddling black market estrogen shots to the desperate. "Where's the baron?" I hissed, pressing a stiletto heel to his throat after I cornered him in an alley reeking of rot.
He spilled like cheap bourbon: the husband wasn't missing; he'd been snatched by the Shadow Syndicate, a cult of irradiated freaks worshiping the bomb as a god. They operated from the old Hollywood studios, twisting pre war films into propaganda reels that played on loop in the bunkers. I infiltrated at dusk, dolled up in a Lamé cocktail dress that hugged my curves like a guilty conscience. The guards bought the act hell, one even wolf whistled as I sashayed past, my .38 snub nose tucked in my garter.
Inside, it was a fever dream of tilted cameras and flickering projectors. The baron was tied to a chair, force-fed their twisted sermons. But the real twist? The dame was in on it. She emerged from the shadows, gun in hand, her mink shedding like a snake's skin. "You should've stayed in your lane, detective," she sneered. "Or should I say, crossdressing doll?"
We tussled in the projector light, our shadows dancing at mad angles on the walls, her nails raking my stockings, my fist connecting with her jaw. I got the drop on her, tying her up with her own pearls. "In this world, honey," I growled, voice husky from the hormones I'd been sneaking, "everyone's got a secret identity. Mine just fits better."
I dragged the baron out, collected my fee in canned peaches and ammo, and vanished back into the rain. Back in my office, I peeled off the layers, staring at my reflection in the cracked mirror. The apocalypse had taken everything, my city, my withered manhood, my illusions. But it gave me this: a gumshoe in girdles and satin, tilting at windmills in a world gone sideways. And in the end, that's all any of us have left. A story, a smoke, and the next case waiting in the wings.

https://www.crossdressing.co.uk/Pine SCAM ALERT EVERYONE

My TS/CD/TV Story

Tonight I feel the girl inside me stirring again, asking to be written into existence.

I have carried her quietly for so long—tucked into the soft, hidden chambers of my heart, where secrets live and dreams wait for courage. She has always been there, watching the world through my eyes while I learned how to survive in a role that never fully fit. She learned to whisper instead of speak, to hide instead of bloom.

I have always been feminine. I have always felt the pull toward softness, beauty, silk, lace, and being seen not as a man pretending—but as a woman becoming.

I didn’t begin crossdressing until a few years ago, late in life, after decades of wondering and silence. A boyfriend encouraged me—someone who saw the femininity in me and cherished it. I was already submissive in spirit, already gentle, already carrying this quiet feminine current inside. When I put on a bra, slipped into panties, and felt lingerie against my skin, it felt natural. Familiar. Like recognition.

I had suspected this part of myself for years, like a faint melody always playing in the background. But that day, standing there in softness, I didn’t just suspect it—I knew. Not as fantasy or curiosity, but as truth. Something ancient and undeniable finally named itself.

I imagine walking down a street in a dress that catches the light, my skin warm in the sun, people seeing me as I wish to be seen. I imagine being admired, desired, even framed on a wall like a pin-up girl from another era—confident, glamorous, unapologetically herself. That vision makes my heart ache with both joy and grief.

So much of my life has been spent in silence. So much of me was taught to hide. I am still learning how to peel back the layers of fear, religion, politics, family expectations, and my own hesitation. I don’t know where this path will lead—only that I am tired of pretending she isn’t there.

For now, she lives in quiet places: my room, my thoughts, the gentle arms of someone who understands, the rare spaces where I can exhale and be Chrissy. I wonder sometimes if that is enough. I wonder what it would be like to let her walk freely in the daylight.

No one in my family knows her. Most of my friends don’t. They see the version of me that learned how to blend in, how to be acceptable, how to survive. They don’t see the girl who has been waiting so patiently inside.

Tonight I write her name here, like a prayer.
Tonight I let her breathe.

Chrissy.
She is real.
She is me.

And even if the world never fully knows her, I know her. And that, for now, is something.

With love,
Chrissy

https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61586994341520

https://x.com/TunnellChrissy

#sissy #sissyboy #gurl #shemale #trans #femboy #femman #tgirl #crossdresser #transgirl #transowman #gay #lgbtq

I love crossdressing and im just so feminine too im a pretty girl

Late night crossdressing

I haven't posted in a while. I just wanted to say hi!

http://chrissyinsd.hotviber.com/

#sissy #sissyboy #sissies #sissyboys #sissygirl #sissygirls #femboy #femboys #femman #gurl #crossdresser #crossdressers #crossdressing #tgirl #shemale #shemalechrissy #sissychrissyinsandiego #chrissyinsd #trans #transgirl #transwoman #transfemale #transgender #lgbt #queer #pantyboy #meninpanties #dress #menindresses #bra #meninbras #pinkbra #thong #gstring #gaydate #gayboyfriend #loveislove #gaylove #translove

I had just finished fastening the last hidden hook at the back of my turquoise gown when the knock came. Five soft raps. Familiar. Unhurried. For a moment my heart stuttered, the old reflex, the ancient fear and my hands flew to the veil as if I could suddenly disappear beneath it. No one ever came unannounced anymore. At sixty four, surprises usually meant doctors or delivery drivers. Then I recognised the rhythm. Only one person still knocked like that. “Don’t answer,” I whispered to myself. But I already knew I would. I moved toward the door, satin whispering around my legs, chiffon brushing my cheeks. Each step felt like a small confession. When I opened it, there she stood, Margaret. “Well,” she said gently, taking a long appraisal at me from headscarf to hem, “you’ve finally gone back to turquoise.” The relief hit me so hard I had to grip the doorframe. She didn’t gasp. Didn’t stare. Didn’t ask. She stepped inside as if this were the most ordinary thing in the world. Margaret and I had known each other forty years. We met in a crossdressing support group that didn’t dare use honest language, two frightened middle aged men pretending we were only “curious.” We had survived marriages, divorces, children, funerals, health scares, church shame, private wardrobes, public disguises. She was the only one who knew about her, the other side of me and about my wife, about the promise I made to bury this part of myself with her. Then she laughed a low, delighted laugh I hadn’t heard in years. “Well,” she said, stepping back to take me in properly, “someone’s been practising.” “And someone,” I replied, eyes dropping pointedly to her coat, “is hiding something under there.” She raised one eyebrow, theatrical as ever, and swept inside without another word. In the sitting room she removed her coat slowly, with ceremony. Underneath, she bloomed. Lavender satin skirt, soft as spilled dusk. A pearl-grey blouse with tiny buttons marching down its front. Her shoulders were draped in a pale mourning shawl, but beneath it shimmered a corset modest, yes, but unmistakably intentional. Her hair still stubbornly silver and short was crowned with a small violet fascinator tilted at a hopeful angle. We stared at each other. Then, at exactly the same moment, we burst into laughter. “Oh my God,” she said, clutching the back of a chair. “Look at us.” “Two antique chandeliers,” I said. “With arthritis.” She crossed the room and turned me gently by the shoulders toward the mirror. “Look properly,” she said. And I did. Two elderly figures in satin and chiffon and stubborn colour, layered with grief and courage and too many decades of silence. My turquoise against her lavender, mourning shades learning how to speak joy. “I never thought,” I said quietly, “that I’d be doing this at sixty four. With company.” “Better late than embalmed,” she replied. We helped each other settle in the armchairs, cushions adjusted, skirts arranged, veils tamed. She fixed my eyeliner with the same tenderness she’d used the last time we met. I fastened a hook she couldn’t quite reach at the back of her corset. Our hands lingered, not with desire, but with recognition. Tea became sherry. Sherry became stories. We spoke of first dresses bought in secret, of wigs hidden in lofts, of wives who never knew and wives who half knew and one who knew everything and loved anyway. We spoke of shame, of church halls, of changing rooms we never dared enter. At one point she stood and curtsied, wobbling dangerously. “Behold,” she announced, “the ghost of femininity past.” I applauded, carefully, so I didn’t spill my sherry. Later, when the light softened and the veil cast turquoise shadows across the wall, we grew quieter. “I was so lonely after Shirley died,” she said softly. “Not for another woman to replace her. For… this.” She gestured between us. “I know,” I said. And I did. Before she left, we stood by the door together, adjusting each other one last time, smoothing frills, straightening shawls, checking lipstick like two conspirators before a masquerade. “We should do this again,” she said. “Regularly,” I said at once. “Before courage changes its mind.” She smiled. “You know,” she said gently, “we don’t have to call it mourning forever.” I watched her walk away in lavender, support cane tapping, skirt swaying stubbornly against time. When I closed the door, the house no longer felt like a place of echoes. It felt like a dressing room. And for the first time in a very long life, I looked forward not to remembering, but to the next time I would become myself with someone who truly understood.

Cross-dressing is not about deception; it’s about expression so be yourself, everyone else is already taken. Even in a ball gown and a beard #crossdressing #sissy #crossdresser #maid #femboy #model

Clothes are for everyone. The only rule is to look fabulous. #crossdressing #CD #model #Trans

Fashion has no gender. The only limit is your own imagination #crossdressing #model #CD #trans

Isn't crossdressing a wonderful experience xx

so they continue to try scamming. wtf would a cis woman keep posting pictures like this on a CROSSDRESSING site. all the pictures are off the net so unlikely the real person. What if I started posting pictures of some sexy tart and I pretended it was me. Don't be so gullible.

Think they may be thinking of re naming this site.......

"Ai Crossdressing.anyfuckingwhere.fakes"

So I wasn't going to post these ones, no make-up or anything...but last week I started putting together my first girls outfit, trying to find my style. It's not finished but wanted to see it and see what y'all thought.

How did I do, Girls? Xx
#crossdresser #crossdressing #highheels #skirt #selfie

#Crossdressing #Crossdresser #Pride

Heels Off! Do you like my pink pantyhose? Subscribe: https://www.youtube.com/@LeggyVeronica
#crossdresser #crossdressing #femboy #crossdressers #sissy #pantyhose #nylon #heel

He became Her Leggy Crossdresser Veronica, subscribe https://www.youtube.com/@LeggyVeronica #crossdresser #crossdressing #femboy #crossdressers #sissy #pantyhose #nylon #heel

A little harmless crossdressing mmm

In the dim afternoon light of my bedroom, I sit before the antique dressing table that once belonged to my Wife. The black satin headscarf rests across my lap like spilled ink, its oversized folds still carrying the faint lavender I keep tucked inside the drawer. The veil those fragile layers of sheer black chiffon voile hangs from the wardrobe door, trembling slightly whenever the January wind finds its way through the sash window. Outside, the town lies quiet under the grey sky of the 16th of January 2026.
I run a lace gloved finger along the jet beading on the bodice, the little beads cold at first, then warming as though they remember my body heat. Why this? The question rises again, steady as my own heartbeat. It isn’t only the crossdressing; that word feels too narrow, too modern for what moves through me. This is mourning chosen, worn deliberately, as though putting on these heavy black satins lets me grieve properly, not just for my Wife, but for the version of myself I kept locked away all those years.
I see flashes of the past: my Grandmother’s photograph album, those stern Victorian and Edwardian women in crepe and veils, faces made beautiful by sorrow. I used to stare at them longer than any boy was supposed to, feeling something stir that had no name. Later, during the decades with my Wife, the secret grew in silence satin bought at antique fairs, a chiffon veil ordered late at night from sellers who asked no questions. My Wife never knew, or if she guessed, she let it lie. She would smile when I came home with yet another silk or satin scarf, teasing me about my “fancy tastes,” and I would laugh along, the words both a comfort and a small, private wound. Did I steal something from her by never speaking the truth? Or was the silence kinder, preserving the life we built of Sunday dinners, walks up on the hill across the fields, the kettle whistling in the kitchen while we listened to the afternoon play on Radio 4? The clothes themselves seem to answer me. The satin is cool against my skin at first, then softens, accepts me. It wraps around the shape I carry inside, the one that never quite fitted the name Tony. When I wear it, I become Tonya the widow I sometimes feel I have always been. The mourning isn’t only for my Wife’s death two months ago, it is for all the years I lived half hidden, for the conversations never had, for the evenings I stood alone in front of the mirror trying on fragments of this other life. Out in the town, beneath the veil, the world blurs into gentle greys. People nod with quiet respect, the way they would to any Victorian widow stepping out of time. In those moments the doubt falls away and I feel something close to power, loss made visible, made dramatic, made mine. Yet when I come home and sit here, the questions return. At Sixty Four, is this foolishness or finally honesty? The mirror shows silver hair escaping the satin folds, lines carved by time across my face. Is it too late to become who I have always been inside? Then I remember my Wife’s hand in mine during those last weeks, her voice thin but certain: “Be happy, love. Whatever that looks like.” Perhaps this is what it looks like layers of black satin and chiffon, the headscarf framing my face like a dark halo, the veil softening everything until even my doubts feel bearable. I rise slowly, fold the headscarf with the same care I once used to fold my handkerchiefs after ironing. The reflections will come back tomorrow, and the day after. They are complicated, tangled, sometimes painful. But they are mine, and for the first time I am not afraid to hold them. The wardrobe waits, patient and open. So do I.

Wish my mother had known about my crossdressing and treated me like this mum helping her adult son

I make a bad boy #crossdressing

I shouldnt be left alone #crossdressing #feelinghot

Here's a possible post:

Just got out of character and feeling like a QUEEN 👸🏽. Who's ready to help me get back into my most dominant self? Looking for a submissive sweetheart to spoil #MistressMode #CrossDressing #SissyLife"

It's Wednesday, which means it's 'Hump Day'

#Crossdressing #SatinBlouse #StilettoHeels

The Pink Princess is out hunting. Want to be my prey? You need this link: https://www.youtube.com/@LeggyVeronica #crossdresser #crossdressing #femboy #crossdressers #sissy #pink #nylon #heel

20’s queen
#20’s #queen #girl #sexy #legs #feet #skirt #heels #crossdressing #crossdresser #crosplay #cosplayer #mastodon #pixelfed #fediverse #me

School girl
#school #girl #sexy #legs #feet #skirt #heels #crossdressing #crossdresser #crosplay #cosplayer #mastodon #pixelfed #fediverse #me

Naughty nun
#naughty #nun #girl #sexy #legs #feet #skirt #heels #crossdressing #crossdresser #crosplay #cosplayer #mastodon #pixelfed #fediverse #me

Hi, I'm new here. In fact I am new to crossdressing. I'm looking for genuine trans / crossdress people to chat to and discuss the whole thing. I did wear women's underwear when I was a young Naval rating, but was terrified of getting caught. Then I got married and had kids. Recently I found myself on my own and feeling inclined to become more femme. I am not attracted to men, but I have always wanted to be a woman.

Hello all you wonderful people! I am working on an update for crossdressing.co.uk and wanted to get your valuable feedback on what's important (and not so important) to you as far as features and functionality is concerned? What's the priority, what's not needed? Help me make this THE best social network for us

A photo my new boyfriend took of me on our date:

#sissy #sissies #sissyboy #sissyboys #sissygirl #sissygirl #gurl #gurls #crossdresser #crossdressing #crossdressers #CD #TS #tgirl #gay #lgbq #shemale #trans #transgirl #transwoman #transfemale #femboy #femboys #femman #gaydate #loveislove

From Shy Boy to Dream Bride: My Crossdressing Story https://youtube.com/@leggyveronica #crossdresser #crossdressing #femboy #crossdressers #sissy #bride #nylon #heel

Ive now been crossdressing for over 45 years now all idid was to put a pair of my sister panties on just to see how they felt against my skin.
When i first started on my crossdressing journey i never realised there millions of us in the world its amazing how wearing women's clothing is so addictive.

Just got done shaving for my date tonight! We're going to shower together! Kisses!

http://chrissyinsd.hotviber.com/

#sissy #sissyboy #sissies #sissyboys #sissygirl #sissygirls #femboy #femboys #femman #gurl #crossdresser #crossdressers #crossdressing #tgirl #shemale #shemalechrissy #sissychrissyinsandiego #chrissyinsd #trans #transgirl #transwoman #transfemale #transgender #lgbt #queer #pantyboy #meninpanties #dress #menindresses #bra #meninbras #pinkbra #thong #gstring #gaydate #gayboyfriend #loveislove #gaylove #translove

Good afternoon!

http://chrissyinsd.hotviber.com/

#sissy #sissyboy #sissies #sissyboys #sissygirl #sissygirls #femboy #femboys #femman #gurl #crossdresser #crossdressers #crossdressing #tgirl #shemale #shemalechrissy #sissychrissyinsandiego #chrissyinsd #trans #transgirl #transwoman #transfemale #transgender #lgbt #queer #gay #dancing #twerking #pantyboy #meninpanties #dress #menindresses #bra #meninbras #pinkbra #thong #gstring

What should I wear today?

http://chrissyinsd.hotviber.com/

#sissy #sissyboy #sissies #sissyboys #sissygirl #sissygirls #femboy #femboys #femman #gurl #crossdresser #crossdressers #crossdressing #tgirl #shemale #shemalechrissy #sissychrissyinsandiego #chrissyinsd #trans #transgirl #transwoman #transfemale #transgender #lgbt #queer #gay #dancing #twerking #pantyboy #meninpanties #dress #menindresses

I met a really wonderful man last night We met at one of my favorite places in San Diego’s Hillcrest neighborhood—Baja Betty’s. It’s a spot I go to often and one of the few places where I feel completely safe being my true self as a trans woman, where I can relax, let my hair down, and just be me.

We started talking and somehow time just disappeared. The conversation flowed so easily, and we kept discovering how much we had in common. He’s older than me—I’m 47 and he’s 76—and honestly, it feels kind of perfect. I don’t have “daddy issues,” but I am very drawn to older men. I love the calm confidence, the grounded, paternal energy, and the way they make me feel cared for and protected.

What makes it even more special is how beautifully complementary we are. In public, he’s very masculine—confident, composed, and steady. In private, he’s a crossdresser, which he shared with openness and trust. That balance, that shared understanding of gender expression and vulnerability, made me feel seen in a way that’s rare.

I’m trying not to get ahead of myself—we did just meet—but there was definitely a spark A sense of comfort, attraction, and mutual understanding that felt natural and exciting. We just fit. I’m really hoping this sweet beginning turns into something meaningful.

http://chrissyinsd.hotviber.com/

#sissy #sissyboy #sissies #sissyboys #sissygirl #sissygirls #femboy #femboys #femman #gurl #crossdresser #crossdressers #crossdressing #tgirl #shemale #shemalechrissy #sissychrissyinsandiego #chrissyinsd #trans #transgirl #transwoman #transfemale #transgender #lgbt #queer #gay #dancing #twerking #pantyboy #meninpanties #dress #menindresses #gaydate #gayboyfriend #loveislove

This is one of my favorite bras. I still need to learn how to do makeup and wear a wig right or style my hair to be more female, but this bra helps with the illusion.

http://chrissyinsd.hotviber.com/

#sissy #sissyboy #sissies #sissyboys #sissygirl #sissygirls #femboy #femboys #femman #gurl #crossdresser #crossdressers #crossdressing #tgirl #shemale #shemalechrissy #sissychrissyinsandiego #chrissyinsd #trans #transgirl #transwoman #transfemale #transgender #lgbt #queer #gay #dancing #twerking #pantyboy #meninpanties #dress #menindresses #bra #meninbras #bramodel

Good morning sweets! What's on your schedule today? I met an incredible man last night and I hope we develop a great long-lasting erotic, romantic and intimate relationship! Kisses!
-Chrissy

http://chrissyinsd.hotviber.com/

#sissy #sissyboy #sissies #sissyboys #sissygirl #sissygirls #femboy #femboys #femman #gurl #crossdresser #crossdressers #crossdressing #tgirl #shemale #shemalechrissy #sissychrissyinsandiego #chrissyinsd #trans #transgirl #transwoman #transfemale #transgender #lgbt #queer #gay #dancing #twerking #pantyboy #meninpanties #dress #menindresses

Hmmm.....don't think I can actually give a speech dressed like this?? LOL


http://chrissyinsd.hotviber.com/

#sissy #sissyboy #sissies #sissyboys #sissygirl #sissygirls #femboy #femboys #femman #gurl #crossdresser #crossdressers #crossdressing #tgirl #shemale #shemalechrissy #sissychrissyinsandiego #chrissyinsd #trans #transgirl #transwoman #transfemale #transgender #lgbt #queer #gay #dancing #twerking #pantyboy #meninpanties #dress #menindresses

My favorite dress.

http://chrissyinsd.hotviber.com/

#sissy #sissyboy #sissies #sissyboys #sissygirl #sissygirls #femboy #femboys #femman #gurl #crossdresser #crossdressers #crossdressing #tgirl #shemale #shemalechrissy #sissychrissyinsandiego #chrissyinsd #trans #transgirl #transwoman #transfemale #transgender #lgbt #queer #gay #dancing #twerking #pantyboy #meninpanties #dress #menindresses

I love these panties. What do you think?

http://chrissyinsd.hotviber.com/

#sissy #sissyboy #sissies #sissyboys #sissygirl #sissygirls #femboy #femboys #femman #gurl #crossdresser #crossdressers #crossdressing #tgirl #shemale #shemalechrissy #sissychrissyinsandiego #chrissyinsd #trans #transgirl #transwoman #transfemale #transgender #lgbt #queer #gay #dancing #twerking #pantyboy #meninpanties
Read less

http://chrissyinsd.hotviber.com/

#sissy #sissyboy #sissies #sissyboys #sissygirl #sissygirls #femboy #femboys #femman #gurl #crossdresser #crossdressers #crossdressing #tgirl #shemale #shemalechrissy #sissychrissyinsandiego #chrissyinsd #trans #transgirl #transwoman #transfemale #transgender #lgbt #queer #gay #dancing #twerking #pantyboy #meninpanties

Yet again! I can't even use the bathroom without being hounded by the paparazzi!

http://chrissyinsd.hotviber.com/

#sissy #sissyboy #sissies #sissyboys #sissygirl #sissygirls #femboy #femboys #femman #gurl #crossdresser #crossdressers #crossdressing #tgirl #shemale #shemalechrissy #sissychrissyinsandiego #chrissyinsd #trans #transgirl #transwoman #transfemale #transgender #lgbt #queer #gay #dancing #twerking #pantyboy #meninpanties

I can't even use the bathroom without being hounded by the paparazzi!

http://chrissyinsd.hotviber.com/

#sissy #sissyboy #sissies #sissyboys #sissygirl #sissygirls #femboy #femboys #femman #gurl #crossdresser #crossdressers #crossdressing #tgirl #shemale #shemalechrissy #sissychrissyinsandiego #chrissyinsd #trans #transgirl #transwoman #transfemale #transgender #lgbt #queer #gay #dancing #twerking #pantyboy #meninpanties

http://chrissyinsd.hotviber.com/

#sissy #sissyboy #sissies #sissyboys #sissygirl #sissygirls #femboy #femboys #femman #gurl #crossdresser #crossdressers #crossdressing #tgirl #shemale #shemalechrissy #sissychrissyinsandiego #chrissyinsd #trans #transgirl #transwoman #transfemale #transgender #lgbt #queer #gay #pantyboy #meninpanties

http://chrissyinsd.hotviber.com/

#sissy #sissyboy #sissies #sissyboys #sissygirl #sissygirls #femboy #femboys #femman #gurl #crossdresser #crossdressers #crossdressing #tgirl #shemale #shemalechrissy #sissychrissyinsandiego #chrissyinsd #trans #transgirl #transwoman #transfemale #transgender #lgbt #queer #gay #dancing #twerking #pantyboy #meninpanties