Hello world, have a great week, see you soon, cheers

Good morning girls hope you all ok and have had a great weekend

Good morning, have a great start in the week

I get the whole age thing, probably some legislation for it but age isn’t the issue, Authenticity however most definitely is! It would be great to have a verifier for that! Hope you’ve all had a great weekend xx

Hope everyone is well haa
Ve a great evening

Hope you are having a great weekend

Good morning all , have a great weekend

There’s a lot about being on here I don’t like… but one thing I have enjoyed is the validation. Apparently I have great legs.

Good morning friends have a great day

Any married men fancy talking about their journey and how they manage their relationship both open and in the closet from their partners.

I’m interested in finding relatable friends. I am married and my wife knows this side of me. She is supportive but not involved. So it would be great talking to like minded men or even females of crossdressers who might be here searching for answers.

I’m here. I’m genuine. I’m real.
And a good listener but also talk and say too much occasionally.

DM’s open. 🫶🫡

Morning girls hope you all have a great day

All natural. All me. No deep fake. No AI, no pretending I’m a size 10.


Size 14 with all the curves. Some in the wrong places!

Love who you are. Yes we all want to be admired but not for being something we are simply not. I can spot it a mile off. I cut my face off because I don’t have time to do make up and wigs. If I did I’d happily share.

When I get likes or compliments it feels great because I know I’m presenting as me.

It’s a shame a platform for us to all embrace and appreciate our shared love turns in to bots and AI.

I love doing my nails
I love doing my make up
I love lipstick
I love lace
I love dresses
I love heels
I love feeling girly
I love Rom coms
I love pamper sessions
I love attention
I love compliments
I love lingerie
I love naughty lingerie
I love smooth skin
I love chilling out as Danni
I love my curvy butt
I love my sporty legs that look great in tights and stockings
I love women
I love women that love crossdressers
I love open minded people
I love getting that perfect picture
I love who I am and what it means to be me


I love crossdressing

Morning girls hope you all have a great day

Good morning girls hope you all ok and have had a great weekend

Evening everyone hope you had a great Saturday

Feeling great in black

Hope everyone is having a great day

Have a great afternoon, my loves.

Had a great day, here’s my Sunday outfit. I wore a nice long leather trench coat over this outfit and of course some lovely silk underwear. Smoked a few cigarettes and yes Linda is a happy girl tonight. xx

Good morning girls, hope you all have a great sunday x

It's great to be back. Miss you all so much. I have nothing new I'm affraid, but still I have some never posted reserves from Christmas.

I have dated many cis women and it was great sex or love making without BDSM. I want a sissy, but I'm not convinced they have as good a orgasm as cis vaginal. But not all cis women are great in bed. So I'm attracted to sissy if they look like a beautiful woman that's how I transition to wanting a hot looking chick with a dick. I have an oral fixation and if a sissy wants me as a daddy, then I'm interested. But bdsm could be a waste of my time and I'm not into being tied up for an hour while the ******** leaves and fucks someone else...lol

A great review from my client… this morning interested once should dm on telegram….
https://t.me/serveramonaryder1

Morning girls hope you all have a great day

Morning girls hope you all have a great day

**** this website i am done with fakes people here. so **** you all im out for good. have a great fake day all

Many drinks in and i feel great.

Feel absolutely great. Xx

Morning everyone hope everyone is doing great today

Evening girls, have a great weekend

I am sixty-four and the grief of the past two months has carved me hollow. Every morning I wake with the same violent start as though my heart has forgotten, for one merciful second, that she is gone. Then memory rushes back like cold water poured into cracked lungs. I cough on it. I always cough on it. Tonight I no longer pretend this is costume. The black satin mourning gown weighs thirty pounds if it weighs an ounce. The sleeves are so enormous they make my arms look like broken wings. The skirt is a black tide that drags behind me, heavy enough to drown small regrets. When I move, the silk screams sharp, wet slaps against itself, the sound of something being torn apart over and over. I have wrapped my head in a midnight black satin headscarf so vast it feels like I am being buried from the crown downward. The fabric is cool against my scalp, almost tender, the way her palm once was when she smoothed my hair before sleep. I pull it brutally tight underneath my chin. I want the tightness of the choke to hurt a little. I need to feel something that isn’t absence. Then the veil. Three sheer layers of black voile chiffon. The first kisses my eyelashes like soot. The second presses against my lips until I taste funeral flowers. The third falls to my waist and beyond, turning the room into a world seen through smoke and tears. Through it everything is dying again, softly, perpetually. My hands tremble as I button the twenty-four jet buttons of the double layer bodice rising from my belly to neck of the mourning gown. Each click of the button is a small gunshot in the quiet house. When I am finished my fingers inside my satin gloves are tired, elegant, useless. I cannot even touch my own face without feeling like I am trespassing on someone else’s sorrow. I descend the staircase one deliberate step at a time. The hem catches, drags, catches again. Silk on oak. Silk on oak. A dirge with no mercy. Halfway down I have to grip the banister because the weeping comes without warning, great, ugly sobs that make my whole body heave against the buttons of the bodice. I let them come. Let them tear through me. There is no one left to be ashamed in front of. In the drawing room I do not sit in her chair. I kneel. The skirt pools around me like spilled blood. I press my gloved palms flat against the carpet where her feet once rested. I lower my forehead until the veil puddles on the floor between my hands. I breathe in the ghost of her perfume, the ghost of her skin, the ghost of the mornings when I still woke as someone she recognised. “I’m sorry,” I whisper to the empty room. The words taste like rust. “I’m sorry I waited so long to become her. I’m sorry you never saw me like this. I’m sorry I’m still here breathing when you’re not.” The veil sticks to the wet tracks on my cheeks. I do not lift it. Let it cling. Let it choke. Let it witness. Outside, the night presses against the windows like a second, colder widow. A car passes. Headlights rake the room in white knives, illuminating me for one merciless second, an old crossdresser in extravagant widow’s weeds, kneeling, shaking, face hidden behind layers of black illusion, crying like something newly orphaned. I do not rise. I stay there until my knees scream, until the sobs turn to the small, broken hiccups of someone who has cried until there is almost nothing left to give. Only then do I speak again, so quietly the words barely disturb the veil. “You would have loved her,” I tell the dark. “You would have loved me.” And for the first time since the funeral two months ago, the silence does not feel like punishment. It feels like the last gentle touch of someone who finally understands.

Morning girls hope you all have a great day

Morning girls hope you all ok and have had great day its a chilly one this morning