Lost in Night ...

I lost my innocence
In night
So many years past
And still I feel
It was not right
It was not ever a must...
Since then
I closed door
To all...
Since then
I am just
Girl for girl
I walk in silence
Do not talk
Too much
I just enjoy
My walk...

#waiting #door

married straight black guy looking around for sissy's

inbox me, i will check every few days to find out if anyone likes outdoors, car, or door unlocked

in London, or Hampshire, as i drive weekdays daytimes

Night Turns

I closed door
The only
Lonely nights
I walk through
Streets
With rear lights
I pass through
Turns
Of long forgotten past
And windows
That are dark
Was it a must
To let your
Freedom
Be with her
Or I just used
Excuse...

Night light
Night walk
Forgotten talk
What was
Somebody's might

Hi Girls. Happy Sunday. I went out yesterday, Baby blue gym shorts, over the knee grey socks, small ladies white top and **** ring. I was shopping, walking around an outdoor event, it was wet, so I had trousers on. I felt very good. I got home, getting undressed, took my shorts off, Oh Oh, no **** ring, Doh!!!. So somebody out there will be seeing this bright orange silicone ring and wondering, What is this? Oops. need to go shopping for another.

hey im keris im 33 from uk perfecting
being a sexy bitch in my spare time but now kinda taken over and become most the time priding on looking as girly as possible although i still only do it behind closed doors as scared but would love to do so xx

Touch...

Gentle touch
To my tired neck
Touch
Of fingers
Then palms
Then lips...
I 'll forget
I'll forever forget
Who you were
Who you are
Why we met...
Yes you opend
My hidden door
And your fingers
Will find pearl
On floor
When my dress
Will so suddenly
Fall
You will see
I am innocent girl...

The morning began with a question that, on the face of it, was utterly trivial.

I stood in my bedroom, a sixty five year old widower who had long ago discovered that life could become surprisingly interesting when you stopped worrying quite so much about what other people thought. Across the bed lay two nightgowns.

One was pink, soft and playful. The other was black satin elegant, glossy and just a little dramatic. Beside them were the headscarves that completed each outfit.

eBay had informed me that the postman was due that morning with my latest purchase.

Normally, that wouldn't have required a second thought. I would have thrown on whatever clothes were nearest, opened the door, collected the post and carried on with my day.

But I am a crossdresser, and over the years I had learned that choosing what to wear could sometimes be part of the pleasure itself. Since becoming widowed, those little private rituals had become even more important to me. There was nobody to impress and nobody to answer to. My clothes were simply one of the ways I expressed myself.

That morning, however, I couldn't decide.

So I asked Grok a rather more important question than it probably deserved.

Should I wear the black satin nightgown and headscarf to greet the postman, or should I wear the pink?

The answer came back quickly.

Black.

Grok's reasoning was surprisingly convincing. Black satin, it suggested, looked intentional and put together. Pink was softer and perhaps a little more playful, whereas the black gave the impression that I had actually chosen my outfit rather than simply wandered downstairs half asleep.

The satin would catch the morning light, while the headscarf would bring everything together.

I stared at the black nightgown.

"Well," I said aloud, "apparently we're going for elegant this morning."

I slipped it on.

The satin settled against me with that familiar coolness I loved, and I carefully tied the headscarf around my hair. Then I stood in front of the mirror.

Grok had a point.

There was something wonderfully satisfying about the combination. I didn't look as though I had spent hours getting ready, but neither did I look as though I had forgotten that the outside world existed.

I smiled at my reflection.

"Sixty five," I murmured. "Widowed, retired from worrying about everybody else's opinions, and apparently dressed in black satin to answer the front door."

I laughed to myself.

Then I went downstairs and prepared a pot of tea.

There was something faintly ridiculous about the situation. Here I was, dressed in a glossy black satin nightgown and headscarf, standing in my kitchen listening for the sound of a postal van.

Eventually, I heard it.

The familiar rumble outside was followed by footsteps approaching the front door.

For one brief moment, I wondered whether I'd made the wrong decision.

Perhaps pink would have been less conspicuous.

Perhaps black satin was a little too theatrical for an encounter that would probably last fifteen seconds.

Then came the knock.

I took a breath.

"Normal morning energy," I reminded myself.

I opened the door.

"Morning," the postman said.

"Morning."

He handed me the letters.

"Thanks."

"No problem. Have a good day."

"You too."

And that was it.

The door closed.

I stood there for a moment, looking down at the envelopes in my hand.

The great sartorial crisis was over.

Nobody had fainted. Nobody had called the fashion police. The earth had continued turning.

I burst out laughing.

All that deliberation over black versus pink, and the entire encounter had lasted barely half a minute.

But perhaps that was precisely the point.

At sixty five, after losing my wife and finding myself living a life that was quieter and more private than the one I had once imagined, I had come to appreciate the little decisions.

Sometimes they mattered precisely because they were mine to make.

There was no great occasion. No audience. No requirement that I dress one way rather than another. I wasn't trying to make a statement to anyone.

I simply wanted to wear the black satin.

So I did.

I carried my tea into the sitting room, still smiling.

My late wife had always known that there was a slightly eccentric streak in me. She had seen sides of me that I had once been afraid to show the rest of the world. Since her death, learning to live honestly with myself had become one of the unexpected journeys of widowhood.

Being a crossdresser wasn't something I needed to apologise for.

It was simply part of me.

And on that quiet morning, standing in my sitting room with my tea, my letters and the soft rustle of satin whenever I moved, I felt strangely content.

"Grok," I thought, smiling to myself, "you were right."

The black had been the stronger choice.

And, for once, I was quite happy to take the advice of an artificial intelligence on matters of morning fashion.

So i am now fully out there now into the world as me, it all started with brighton pride nearly 2 weeks ago and then i went to a bar after, met tge most amazing and supportive people so went out again sunday just gone with my new friends and out again on saturday night clubbing as myself,

I cannot tell any of you just how amazing it feels that im no longer locked away behind closed doors and im literally absolutely loving it and so fully in love with who i am,

Im free to be me

I have told everyone about me and who i am, shown them my photo's and now changed my facebook profile pictures aswell as my whatsapp photo and my whatsapp name which is now my girls name,

Jess

Honestly i feel soo amazing,

On sunday night i had everyone in awe of me and i was drinking all night yet i only spent £8,

Im going to get used to being me,

Even women have told me how good i look and tgat they love and want my outfits,

That alone makes me feel very powerful!

Love to you all bitches

Blimey I'm sick of these ads splitting people's posts... here's the rest of the photos including a real close up lol print it out and stick it on your fridge door so nobody will go in your fridge lolol

Evening eveyone hope you are all well and have a great Off to my next door neighbours birthday drinks tonight the condition she gave me with was the invite is only valid if i go as myself so I hope this passes

Frustration

I could not hide
My past
Could I?
Could I be happy
As she was...
My lipstick
Does not make me fine
My smile
Hides
Or may be gone.
I feel
I could not
Open door
But no return
To past is must
I try rentlessly
To go...
But where
How...
Without smile?...
I lost so long ago
In past
Or may be never had
I do not know
How to find
And searching
Till the end ...

Talk at Tavistock....

I came to the clinic I could have been in my childhood.
I do not know what would it change, but now I often feel pity it was not tried before.

I stayed in front of that silent fraightening building with Zigmundt Freid sculpture hidden in not well cut bushes.

And suddenly door has opend
Young night nurse was worried and asked
Are you OK?
Do you need help?

The problem is I do not know what to answer. I would dream to try and enter. Perhaps too late. Would it help?
Would it change anything in my life long solitude and misreception by most of people.

I only know it is very strange Path I decided to go.
Since I became a girl I did not discarded my past, rather
Integrated wrenches and sawing needles with sawing machine.
Universal Sergant as my GrandMa...?

If I enter it my life will change.
Never look back the only what inner voice may whisper...

But I am still afraid to accept that my complexity...
Such a strange planet where magic transformation is a tale dream , but hated if becomes reality...

#backdoor

Plats

I cut my hair
Long ago
I felt that
would be right.
I could not
Understand
Your words:
"Your plats
Is in my heart"...
I felt so ugly,
Needed change.
And once
I have lost you...
"Plats in my heart"
Words still are pain...
I felt
I wounded you.

Yes I do know
That We parted
Long before,
In bed...
But I am trying
Have my plats
My memory
My faith.
One day
I open door
To heart
And whisper
With all Love...
My plats are back
Be back with me...
But only Moon will come

More outdoor playtime xx

I happy to guide you, if you are a beginner, I love to open new doors and show you the kinky side of life hit me up and let's explore. #sissy #femboy

I guess this site is where im comfortable to be an open book right now,

I cant talk to many others as they beat me up and laughed about it when it was my secret

THAT HURT ME BAD!

THAT SCARRED ME!!

Im gonna go shower as like every other night im desperate for that long unrushed company as who im clearly wanting to be!!

Might even...

GO LIVE!!

IF...

YOU ALL HELP ME EMBRACE ME, ENCOURAGE ME,

SUPPORT ME, JUST BE THE PEOPLE WE ARE I GUESS!!!

I WANNA BE A FUCKING SLUT TONIGHT,

IF "ANY" OF YOU CAN FINALLY HELP ME GET LAID FOR HOURS OF THE BEST SEX WITH WELL..

A FUCKING DIRTY SLUT

THEN IM VERY VERY GAME!!

NO AND THESE ARE A FIRM NO!!!

NO BLOOD!

NO SERIOUS PAIN!

NO PISS!!

NO SHIT!

ABSOLUTELY "NO" BODY OR **** HAIR!

NO BIG BEARDS!!

NO FUCKING "FEET"!!

AND NO FATTIES!!



my likes....

Hung smooth all over (so they look silky) in shape and strong dom guys

Girls all i need to say to the rest of you is,

Nobody likes A HAIRY BITCH, its fucking disgusting and if you wanna be a bitch then make an effort!!

How can i share my number??

Love you girls and again...

THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH FROM BEHIND THAT DOOR THATS BEEN LOCKED FOR 22 YEARS!!

as i wrote 22 years i just started crying

Guys... oh girlies

THIS IS A BIG 1!!

EEEEKKKK SO EXCITING TO!!

mummys little 42 year old boy tokd mummy yesterday morning that he has cross dressing since 2004,

They all knew for several humiliating reason over the years BUT...

MUMMY SAID IF BEING JESSICA MAKES ME HAPPY, THEN JESSICA CAN MOVE IN,

SO SHE DID!

GIRLS YOU'LL UNDERSTAND THIS!!




JESSICA..

THAT PROPER SEXY GIRL ALSO TOLD MUMMY SHE IS BI-SEXUAL AND CHANCES ARE JESSICA IS GOING TO BE TORN APART BY A GUY AS JESSICA EATS HIS WIFES YUMMY *****, AND THAT JESSICA WANTS TO BE A FUCKING PORNSTAR, AND SHE IS GOING TO DO JUST THAT!!


EVERYONE...



JESSICA HAS A HOME,


YAY, EEEEEEEKKK

SHE HAS BEEN SORTING HER ROOM ALL NIGHT, SHE HAS SOO NEW STUFF COMING AND SHE CAN PRACTICE HER MAKE UP NOW TO,


IM OVER THE MOON IM LIKE PROPER HAPPY WITH BEING ABLE TO BE JESSICA NOW, AND I CANT WAIT TO HAVE GUESTS OVER,

I GUARANTEE MUMMY IS GOING TO HEAR HER HELPLESS LITTLE GIRL SCREAMING ALL HOURS BECAUSE SHE IS GETTING SO MUCH PERFECT DICK!,

Soooo....

Who wants to come and see how naughty jessica's room??

The door is now open xxx

I happy to guide you, if you are a beginner, I love to open new doors and show you the kinky side of life hit me up and let's explore. #sissy #femboy

I happy to guide you, if you are a beginner, I love to open new doors and show you the kinky side of life hit me up and let's explore. #sissy #femboy

Hi girls and girlfriends. Im knocking your doors for servicing

Dean got in touch with me from Alestree in Derby and said he wanted to Offer me some Training but only had a tight window of opportunity, he said he had from 3pm to 3:30pm when he then had to go pick family up from wherever.... I had already seen his photos and he did fit my Criteria.
Smooth Shaven Co ck and Sacks
Full Co ck Head Showing
5" or more when hard
Willing to wear Tights or Holdups/Stockings ( Which I could supply)
Dean was 6", Smooth with Head Showing and would wear his Wife's White Holdups.
So my window of opportunity was tight as I leave work at 2:30 some days... So I said I would have to stay in my work uniform which he said was fine..
I arrived about 2.55pm so was spot on with timeing.. Dean answered the door in a robe and clearly wearing some Nylons of some sort..
We had extensively talked over the phone about preparation, cleanliness, Discretion and many other things...
He took my straight through into a bright Bedroom where he sat on the edge of the bed and spread his legs revealing White Fishnet Holdups... He grabbed a pillow and threw it on the floor between his legs, I got down and slid that lovely smooth co ck Into my mouth wetting it ready then sucking it into my mouth, playing with it with my tongue untill it was hard, a nice 6" or so, about the same as me, I slid up and down his shaft, his nerves now all gone as the pleasure takes over. I continued working on his co ck and head, sliding it all the way in, feeling his head at the back of my throat, the odd taste of pre cum now and then, after about 10 minutes intense Sucking, he started to moan, and as discussed he grabbed my head with both hands, and Slid me up and down his shaft, then just before had left his co ck on the edge of my lips, then filled my mouth with two lots of beautiful Juice, he kept hold of me and kept his co ck in there untill he was fully soft again and I had cleaned up every drop of my feed.....
I thanked him for his generous offer of training and letting me feed... He knew where I was if he had any more time...
If you live local to Spondon, Ilkeston or close surrounding area and fit my Criteria and want to help my training then please get in touch..

(A New CD)
Jess got in touch and simply asked if I would go over and help her with her photos which were often Blurred, Hazy and Untidy looking.
She was very new to CDing so she was buying loads of cheap outfits but not actually wearing them, she said she had only just gone Smooth although needed help to finish off.. it was quite a distance at 1hr25min but she said she would go halves with the fuel price if it would help.
I arranged a trip down on my day off knowing what time I would have to be back, I set off early to be there about 10:30am which would give me till about 1:30pm 3hrs should be plenty of time.
I had discus with her silly little things like, a tidy house, Warm, Good Lighting, Wig, Shoes and plenty of chat about Toys and Fun in general, so hopefully she would be at least half ready for my arrival.
I arrived on time and Jess answered the door wearing regular clothing just like me, we had a chat with a cuppa and it was time to go through her Lingerie, she had some nice stuff, like mine, budget but nice, she had 2" Stilettos so not pushing any boundaries but an ok start, a couple of Basques, loads of Stockings and Suspenders and Stocking Tights, Holdups, Thongs Knickers, French, Std, Cami Tops, Bras, Sheer crop tops/Boob tubes all sorts of stuff and Toys galore, I could tell she was single.
As a bit of fun, as I was helping out I brought my Maids Outfit with me but first thing first, I said she needed to go get a shower so I could then look what else needed sorting, she did that, got herself dry and cam back in with a robe on, I said ok you can remove the robe, which she did, a little apprehensive but that's to be expected, she was a little overweight but not excessively, she could still see her own feet, she was tall so held the weigh well, her Co ck was about 6" soft so much bigger than mine. I asked her to put a leg on the Sofa which she did, I had a good close look, and moved her sacks side to side to see how smooth things were, I then got her to turn round and I parted her Ass cheeks for a good look round, ok I said the gap under your sacks need doing and around the Ass needs some, and I said you forgot under your arms.
So with a Bowl of warm clean water, a new Razor Gillette Fusion, and Gel I got her on all fours on the floor with a towel, I coated her sacks and all round her Ass with shaving Gel, and I got on with re shaving her bits, for her arms and legs I used her Electric Clippers on a number 1 after which, she had another shower and so did I.
We were both now chatting in the nude which really breaks the ice, I said let's get changed so I put on my Maids Outfit with Black Stockings and Suspenders with my 3" Stilettos and No undies.
For Jess we picked a Vintage Bettie Page look, with Dark Tanned Seemed Stockings with Suspenders and a Camy Top and her Stilettos and Black std Knickers, she looked very nice.
Oddly enough now we're were in Lingerie she started to get hard, so like me she loves CDs only.
We did loads of photos with much more light and they were much better, it was not long before she wanted to do some extra shots, Squatting over my hard Co ck, in the 69 position but only pretending, then in the Doggy Position for a pose, after all this she was still hard, I wondered whether I should ask or not, should I stay strong and see or should I be week and ask.....
No I'm a week Slut.....Would you like me to play with your Co ck rather than waste that Hard-on... Oh ok yes we can try, I told her to lie on the bed, I got on top back in the 69 position but lowered myself down till I was almost touching her mouth, I slowly cupped the end of her shaft with my lips and slid up and down that shaft, she moaned and groaned right from the offset, it was about 3 minutes when she started sucking me too, I let her get used to it before mentioned my rules about No Mess No Waste, she really did not know what to do, I was sucking away merrily while she was doing the same but very apprehensive like, I said shall we stop, the answer made me laugh, **** no carry on please, after several minutes I new I was getting close, so I lowered myself a little more and brought my legs together so she had nowhere to go, a couple more minutes and I shot my load into her mouth, she was struggling but managed to get it all down, I really went for it now tightening my lips around her shaft, and sliding all the way to her sacks, untill I heard and felt her cumming, there was much more than I expected but I swallowed every bit of that wonderful juice.. Because she was pinned down she was still cleaning up my last few dribbles too...
After that there was no stopping her, we meet regularly and she meets others too xx

If you want this then let me know xx

Paul offered to help...... (Read Below)
I was very happy to hear from Paul who sent me a message saying he was available for training Help during my availability times, 2:30 and 4:30pm and he was around 15 minutes away from Ilkeston... We chatted extensively about everything important and at the same time he said he was happy to be Smooth and wearing his wife's Holdups..
So on that we arranged a call from me Tuesday and I would arrive around 2:45pm.. which gave me plenty of time.
He lived in Nuthall just on the Nottinghamshire boarder... Paul opened the door in joggers and hoodie and me obviously still in my Postie uniform...
We said our quick Hello's and he said he had to get back to work and showed me through to a spare room with a smart Raisable Desk, he said I use my wife's desk when I'm working from home, she is slightly disabled so needs it, he just took off his Joggers to reveal Holdups and a Thong which I did not expect..
He raised the desk right up so it was standing hight and asked me to get under, which was very easy, he had already got a pillow ready, he slipped the Thong to one side, revealing a nice 5" Soft Smooth Co ck... He just said help yourself and carried on working on his laptop ..
I was getting hard myself seeing his co ck and wasted no time getting it into my mouth, sucking it into my mouth until it got hard at which I switched to sucking up and down his beautiful shaft which was now about 6.5" I was so hoping he wants me back again..
He was obviously enjoying it as he spread his legs wider to allow better access, I was holding on to his legs at the top of his Holdups sliding myself up and down his shaft, I switched from this to Wanking with my mouth still on his co ck head, back to sucking on and off for about 20 minutes when he paused his job, Grabbed my head both sides and used me as his **** toy and just as he started to moan just had the head in my mouth, two very large loads shot in filling my mouth twice with his beautiful cum, he kept hold untill every drop was gone....
He said go wait in the living room untill around 3:30 and come and try again.
OMG that's wonderful yes ok and I did exactly that, by 4:15 I had had my second helping of cum, much less obviously but I was so so happy... I had plenty of time to go straight to my Wife's work to fetch her.
I do hope he calls for me again.....
If you can help, then please let me know asap...


All my best pictures and Stories in one (FREE) Private Group <a href="https://www.flickr.com/groups/14871084@N25/">www.flickr.com/groups/14871084@N25/</a>

Looking like a wet day outdoors, So Im going to be indoors cleaning, but, what to wear. I want to enjoy it. Keep my little clitty **** caged I think, I was a bit naughty this morning in bed. SHower and toys stuck to the wall later, my favourite part, backing onto them time and time again. That will get me through the cleaning, before going shopping wearing nothing under my shorts, maybe even a quiet layby on the way back home. My day planned . Oh, must shave as well, need to be smooth all over.

Just woke up at stupid o'clock way too early and thought I'd take this photo outside my patio doors before the neighbors all wake up and look out of their bedroom windows to see the sissy crossdresser out in his/her garden.

A bit chilly outdoors, good morning ladies xxx

At 65, I've spent decades as a transvestite sissy crossdresser, keeping my feminine side tucked away like a guilty secret for most of my life. Skirts, stockings, heels, and lacy things brought me a private thrill and a soft kind of peace, but they also came with shame and isolation. Then volunteering stepped in first in drab male clothes at a local charity shop and quietly cracked the door open to something more. Over time, the idea of exploring crossdressing while volunteering became a gentle, thrilling possibility that blended my two worlds: giving back to the community while letting my sissy self breathe a little in public. Crossdressing and volunteering intersect in beautiful, sometimes nerve wracking ways. Many of us in the crossdressing community already love charity shops and thrift stores they're treasure troves for affordable feminine clothes, vintage dresses, silky blouses, and heels that fit just right without breaking the bank. Shopping there "en drab" (in male presentation) is common and relatively low-pressure; staff rarely bat an eye at a man browsing the women's section, especially if you're polite and purposeful. But taking the next step volunteering while presenting as your feminine self feels like leveling up. It turns the shop into a stage where you can practice being seen, contribute meaningfully, and feel the quiet joy of service wrapped in the fabric that makes you feel most alive. Sorting donations, steaming garments, arranging displays tasks that already feel creative and domestic become even more satisfying when you're doing them in a skirt or blouse that matches the very items on the rails. There's a special little rush when you handle a pretty dress that might have been perfect for your own collection, knowing it's going to help someone else while you get to embody your softer side in a purposeful setting. For many of us older sissies, volunteering offers a gentle way to ease into public expression without the intensity of a full "night out." Charity shops tend to attract kind, community minded people older volunteers, mums, young folks gaining experience, and all sorts in between. The environment is often forgiving and focused on the work rather than on you. Conversations flow naturally over pricing or styling, and you can let your feminine mannerisms show a bit more without forcing anything. It builds confidence the same way my early drab shifts did: through small interactions, teamwork, and the satisfaction of helping keep good clothes out of landfill while raising funds for worthy causes. Of course, it's not without its layers. Some days you might worry about being read, or about awkward questions, or simply about whether the team will accept you. Experiences vary some places are wonderfully inclusive, especially those with ties to causes or progressive areas, while others might feel more traditional. Starting small helps: perhaps a short shift, a subtle feminine touch, nail polish, a unisex but feminine top, or even volunteering at events or organizations where crossdressing is more normalized. I've heard of crossdressers volunteering at community fundraisers, helping at pride related drives, or even assisting in thrift based events where dressing up adds to the fun and visibility. The mental health side is profound. Volunteering already combats loneliness, builds purpose, teaches skills, and creates real connections benefits that feel amplified when you're expressing your authentic self. For a sissy crossdresser like me, it bridges the gap between private indulgence and public living. That hidden part of me stops feeling like a shameful secret and starts feeling like a valid contribution to the world. The social aspect eases isolation in a way therapy alone never quite could; you're valued for your helpfulness, your eye for display, your patience with customers. And yes, there's that extra layer of thrill spotting a gorgeous bargain while wearing something pretty yourself, or feeling the swish of a skirt as you move between racks. Looking back, exploring crossdressing in volunteering has been one of the most rewarding paths for many of us. It doesn't demand you "come out" dramatically; it lets you integrate gradually, at your own pace. Some stay fully en femme for shifts and find warm acceptance. Others mix presentations or keep it subtle. Either way, it fosters growth: more confidence, better social skills, a deeper sense of purpose, and often a surprising amount of quiet support from people who simply see a kind volunteer doing good work. If you're a fellow crossdresser reading this whether you're 25 or 75 consider it. Start by shopping at charity shops to build familiarity, then explore volunteering opportunities. Talk to managers openly if it feels right; many are pragmatic and welcoming when you frame it as wanting to contribute.

Travel to nowhere...

When I was little
Girl
I gave my toys to others
I could not understand
I cried so many nights
To realise
With sadness
Worlds of others
Too far to travel
And to deep
To mind...
I have decided
Never try
To give my own
World
There is no way...
They may just
Feel
My heart
They might accept
Just might...
But never reach
My world...
And never meet again...
For what to try
To fly?
To Love?
No no...
Abort...
I better stay
And wait
My day
If
Toys return
To my childhood
Again...
I waited
Many nights
And days...
I waited,
Keeping
Doors
Just open
To my Soul
Nobody
Came
Nobody
Liked
Just Owl....
Nobody liked
When
It is open world...
But keep it
Shut...
Was difficult...,
for what...?

So nice chilling , doors dressed up again high xxxx

Love to answer my door dressed x

I love to answer my door in just lingerie. Does anyone else find this a turn on ?

I am thinking that I would like to meet with someone for play, must be local to me and must be able to have me come to them. Read my profile you will understand. I’m looking for like minded lingerie loving cross dressers who want to have sexy fun with each other, I would like to try top and bottom, give and receive, oral , anal, hand or toys. I would like also if possible to meet a lady who would like to peg my slutty back door. Any one interested will need to pm me on here. Please see my pictures and read my bio. This will probably be a one off thing and I will not be giving any details about myself. I am clean and respectful the right person will know that they will take my cherry with this kind of thing so please be respectful and responsible. Thanks you princesses

I am devastated
Old and quite kind man fall in love with my images.
All Ladies tricks did not work
Photos and verses were stronger than Stright No
below...
It looks like Kate get into troubles of her role...
Hope not more girly problems...

A Sleep ...

My gates are closed.
Garden sleeps
In quiety of night
So many failed
Open gate...
Why do you
Wish to try?
I might agree
Might open
Door
Might even
Talk time through...
It is excuse
To say upon
I never love,
Love true...
Do you so wish
Me lie and try?
You wish me
Get undressed?
Is it the only reason
Why
You are
My Garden Guest?
No...?
you just wanted see
The plants?
Cornflowers in night...?
Strange wish my visitor
Alas
They are shadows of my past...

I wish
I'll fall in Love one day
And open
To my dreams...
But I have lost
My wish
To try
Be Loved
Be shy
Be pleased ...

Don't try
To change my mind
My  Guest
With hope of
Next time...
How could
I be ...,
Ohh well,
"Princess..."
All after
I have passed?
Forgive me
Shyness
Please, excuse
That I am
Saying straight
My Lotus
Sleep,
Forever
Sleep,
Not opens
In the night...
Please do not
Hope
"I Love You..."
Might anything
To change...
I just was touched
By orange trace
Of lips
On photograph...
I happy freindly
Chat sometimes
And write
You verses though...
But promise
Never
Never
Touch
My Hair
Just at all?
I am alone
Most life
Too late
To try to change
Yes I am old
I am doing
Fine
My voice?
What could it change...?

I could not be
too close fast
I wish
You stay unhurt...
But thank you
For you sending
Heart....
In hands
That opens night...

Please let me
Be shy girl
Away
My voice
Is just
My words...
My life
Is different
And may too frighten
You a lot....

Am I too strange?
Sentimental?
No
I don't trust in Love...
It brought
Too much
Into my life....
Unwanted
From above...


Nothing helps
He is really abusive

I just hate to play with men

Mirror Shade ...

The door
Is closed
Mirror
Shade
Reflects
Your
Pretty past
Your
Future
Hidden
By the gate
There is
No toll
To pass
No keys
No hope
No advice...
Your door
Is closed
Mirror's
Wise...

A Sleep ...

My gates are closed
Garden sleeps
In quiety of night
So many failed
Open gate
Why do you
Wish to try?
I might agree
Might open
Door
Might even
Talk time through...
It is excuse
To say upon
I never love
You true...
Do you so wish
Me lie and try?
You wish me
Get undressed?
Is it the only reason
Why
You are
My Garden Guest?
No...
you just wanted see
The plant?
The Lotus in the night...
Strange wish my visitor
Alas
It is just in your mind...

I wish
I'll fall in Love with you
And open
To my dreams...
But I have lost
My wish
Be cute
Be Loved
Be shy Iris...
Ahhh, farewell
My dear Guest
Be luckier
Next time...
How could
I be ...
Ohh well
"Princess..."
All after
I have passed?
Forgive me
Shyness
Please, excuse
That I am
Leaving
You
My Lotus
Sleep
Forever
Sleep
No whispers
"I Love You..."

thought i heard someone at the door

Ok. That’s it for me. I set up an account with the age verify thing and the first thing that happened when I tested it to log back in was it asking me to verify my age.

My answer to that is that I’m at an age where I cannot be bothered with unnecessary hassle. Any fool knows that a 6 year old knows how to bypass this stuff by setting up a VPN.

So, reluctantly, I’m leaving. I will keep my account open for now but I will probably only be this way once more to delete it.

Sorry I’ve ended on a mosn because I have had some nice chats but it’s time to point the fake tits towards the door, turn on a stiletto and shake that ass.

Take care and Goodbye xxx

I am happy to guide you, if you are a beginner, I love to open new doors and show you the kinky side of life hit me up and let's explore. #sissy #femboy

I am happy to guide you, if you are a beginner, I love to open new doors and show you the kinky side of life hit me up and let's explore. #sissy #femboy

I never thought a simple late-night scroll on Temu would change how I saw myself in the mirror.

My hands were shaking a little when I clicked "Buy Now" on that dress. The listing was a chaotic poem of keywords: Black Satin Fairy Vintage Sweet Dress Mesh Long Lace... Hollow Out Puff Sleeve Floral... Off Shoulder Fairy Princess Long Satin Mesh Gothic Lady Ruffle. It was everything at once — sweet, dark, romantic, dramatic — and somehow it felt like it had been waiting for me.

I'm sixty-four. Short. Heavy. The kind of body the world politely looks past. For most of my life I kept the part of me that loved beautiful, flowing things locked away in a mental attic. But the older I get, the less patience I have for hiding.

The package arrived on a grey Tuesday afternoon. I signed for it quickly, heart thumping like a teenager sneaking something forbidden. I carried the brown box upstairs like it contained state secrets, locked the bedroom door, and tore into it.

Inside lay folds of deep black satin that caught the lamplight like liquid night. Delicate mesh panels shimmered with tiny floral embroidery. The puff sleeves were ridiculously romantic — exaggerated, dreamy, almost cartoonishly glamorous. Lace spilled from every edge. The off-shoulder neckline promised to bare collarbones I usually keep hidden under sensible jumpers.

I stripped down, stood in front of the full-length mirror in just my underwear, and stepped into the dress.

The satin whispered against my legs as I pulled it up. It was surprisingly forgiving — stretchy in the right places, structured in others. I wriggled my arms through those massive puff sleeves; they ballooned around my upper arms like dark fairy wings. I tugged the bodice into place, smoothed the ruffled layers over my stomach, and finally reached back to zip it (with some creative contortions and a coat hanger as backup).

Then I looked up.

And I stopped breathing for a second.

The woman — no, the creature — staring back wasn't sixty-four. She wasn't short and soft and ordinary. She was a midnight fairy queen who had wandered out of some gothic storybook and decided to be indulgent today. The black satin hugged and draped in ways that turned every curve into intention. The hollow-out lace panels teased just enough skin to feel dangerous. Those enormous puff sleeves framed me like I belonged on a velvet throne instead of a suburban bedroom carpet.

I turned sideways. The long skirt flared dramatically, the mesh overlay catching light like spiderwebs covered in frost. I twirled — actually twirled — and watched the layers float outward in perfect slow motion, the ruffles whispering secrets to each other.

For once, the mirror wasn't my enemy. It was showing me something true.

I hadn't planned to go anywhere. But suddenly I needed to feel this outside these four walls.

I threw on a long black coat (practicality dies hard), slipped my feet into the only pair of low heels I own that almost match, draped a soft scarf over my wig to hide the fact I hadn't styled it yet, and stepped out into the January dusk.

The cold air hit my bare shoulders like a slap and a caress at the same time. I walked to the end of the street and back — only fifteen minutes — but every step felt like gliding. The satin moved against my thighs. The sleeves swayed. A neighbour's security light caught me as I passed; for a heartbeat I was illuminated, black lace and floral shadows glowing against the night.

No one stopped me. No one shouted. A dog walker nodded politely like I was simply another eccentric on an evening stroll.

When I got home, I locked the door, dropped the coat on the floor, and stood in front of the mirror again — this time under brighter light, no scarf, no hiding.

Here’s the thing about that dress: it doesn’t care that I’m sixty-four, or that I carry extra weight, or that my hands are rough from decades of practical work. It simply drapes itself over me and says, You are allowed to be this glamorous. You are allowed to be this much.

I smiled at my reflection — a real smile, not the careful half-one I usually wear.

Then I whispered to the woman in the mirror, the one who finally looked like she belonged in a fairy tale:

"Thank you for coming out to play, love. We’re keeping the dress."

i heard a knock at the door . you do the rest