That's a relief, unjoined the CDstories group...
That's a relief, unjoined the CDstories group...
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5 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 1K Views2
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Follow me on instagram: crossdressdiva or join my telegram channel: https://t.me/thecrossdressdivaFollow me on instagram: crossdressdiva or join my telegram channel: https://t.me/thecrossdressdiva0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 2K Views
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In the dim parlour of a narrow terraced house on the edge of town, where the January dusk pressed against fogged windowpanes, Hanimefendi (once Tony, though the name now felt like an old coat left in the attic) sat perfectly still before the tall cheval mirror.
At sixty four, the body that looked back at her was soft and heavy, rolls of flesh pressing against the seams of her chosen mourning. Yet every inch of it had been reclaimed in Barbie Pink the violent, unapologetic pink of bubblegum, flamingos, and little girls’ birthday dreams. She had buried the muted blacks and charcoals of conventional widowhood the same afternoon she buried her former self. Grief, she decided, deserved better than drabness. Grief deserved to scream.
Her long gown swept the floorboards in heavy, liquid folds of pink satin. The fabric caught the lamplight in subtle, expensive highlights shimmering like wet sugar or the inside of a seashell. Tiny seed pearls marched along the modestly high neckline and down the front in orderly, virginal rows. The sleeves ended in deep cuffs of gathered pink chiffon that trembled with each slow breath.
Over the gown rode the blouse: glossy, deluxe, almost liquid in its sheen. Frills cascaded from throat to waist like a waterfall of spun sugar ruffles upon ruffles upon ruffles, each edge finished with the thinnest piping of darker rose. The cuffs alone could have doubled as christening bonnets.
But the true crown was the headscarf.
An oversized triangle of blush pink satin, almost cartoonishly large, draped from the top of her head and cascaded past her shoulders in glossy waves. She had tied it under the chin with an extravagant bow, the ends trailing like rabbit ears. Pinned beneath it floated a sheer pink chiffon voile veil long enough to brush the upper swell of her ample chest, fine enough that her features showed through like a watercolour left in the rain. The veil softened the male jawline she had once hated, blurred the double chin, turned every blink into something theatrical and tender.
Her mouth was a dramatic wound of matte fuchsia, outlined sharper than a paper cut. Above it arched brows drawn in powdery rose, while the eyelids shimmered with pearlescent pink shadow and were rimmed in vivid bubblegum liner that flicked outward in exaggerated Rococo commas. Cheeks bloomed with circular rouge like a porcelain doll painted by an over enthusiastic child. The overall effect was sissy maid meets Marie Antoinette in full defiant mourning feminine, excessive, absurdly pretty, and deliberately inconsolable.
He, her male persona had hated the colour pink. Called it childish. Called it weak. On the nightstand sat the little brass urn containing what remained of him, his cremated wardrobe of male clothes, positioned so that the urn had no choice but to stare at her forever.
Hanimefendi lifted one plump, ring laden hand. The nails were lacquered the exact shade of strawberry marshmallow. She touched the veil where it lay across her lips, pressing the satin bow against them as though kissing herself goodnight.
I wore navy coloured clothes for forty-one years, she whispered to the mirror, voice low and cracked from crying and cigarettes she had given up in 1998. Navy and sensible shoes and ‘yes dear’ and ‘not now.’ You had your funeral in charcoal. Mine is pink. Barbie bloody pink. And I’m not sorry.
A tear escaped, cutting a bright path through the rouge. It hung on the veil like dew on candyfloss before soaking in.
She rose slowly, arthritic joints protesting and moved to the ancient radiogram in the corner. The needle settled onto an old 78. A scratchy soprano began to sing something unbearably sentimental about lost loves and rose gardens. Hanimefendi began to sway. The gown whispered against itself. The frills trembled. The veil floated like breath.
In the mirror a vast, pink, glittering figure danced alone widowed, overweight, outrageously made up, and for the first time in six decades entirely herself.
She was mourning, yes. But she was mourning in colour. And the house, for one evening at least, smelled faintly of rose talc, hot satin, and the sweetest kind of revenge.In the dim parlour of a narrow terraced house on the edge of town, where the January dusk pressed against fogged windowpanes, Hanimefendi (once Tony, though the name now felt like an old coat left in the attic) sat perfectly still before the tall cheval mirror. At sixty four, the body that looked back at her was soft and heavy, rolls of flesh pressing against the seams of her chosen mourning. Yet every inch of it had been reclaimed in Barbie Pink the violent, unapologetic pink of bubblegum, flamingos, and little girls’ birthday dreams. She had buried the muted blacks and charcoals of conventional widowhood the same afternoon she buried her former self. Grief, she decided, deserved better than drabness. Grief deserved to scream. Her long gown swept the floorboards in heavy, liquid folds of pink satin. The fabric caught the lamplight in subtle, expensive highlights shimmering like wet sugar or the inside of a seashell. Tiny seed pearls marched along the modestly high neckline and down the front in orderly, virginal rows. The sleeves ended in deep cuffs of gathered pink chiffon that trembled with each slow breath. Over the gown rode the blouse: glossy, deluxe, almost liquid in its sheen. Frills cascaded from throat to waist like a waterfall of spun sugar ruffles upon ruffles upon ruffles, each edge finished with the thinnest piping of darker rose. The cuffs alone could have doubled as christening bonnets. But the true crown was the headscarf. An oversized triangle of blush pink satin, almost cartoonishly large, draped from the top of her head and cascaded past her shoulders in glossy waves. She had tied it under the chin with an extravagant bow, the ends trailing like rabbit ears. Pinned beneath it floated a sheer pink chiffon voile veil long enough to brush the upper swell of her ample chest, fine enough that her features showed through like a watercolour left in the rain. The veil softened the male jawline she had once hated, blurred the double chin, turned every blink into something theatrical and tender. Her mouth was a dramatic wound of matte fuchsia, outlined sharper than a paper cut. Above it arched brows drawn in powdery rose, while the eyelids shimmered with pearlescent pink shadow and were rimmed in vivid bubblegum liner that flicked outward in exaggerated Rococo commas. Cheeks bloomed with circular rouge like a porcelain doll painted by an over enthusiastic child. The overall effect was sissy maid meets Marie Antoinette in full defiant mourning feminine, excessive, absurdly pretty, and deliberately inconsolable. He, her male persona had hated the colour pink. Called it childish. Called it weak. On the nightstand sat the little brass urn containing what remained of him, his cremated wardrobe of male clothes, positioned so that the urn had no choice but to stare at her forever. Hanimefendi lifted one plump, ring laden hand. The nails were lacquered the exact shade of strawberry marshmallow. She touched the veil where it lay across her lips, pressing the satin bow against them as though kissing herself goodnight. I wore navy coloured clothes for forty-one years, she whispered to the mirror, voice low and cracked from crying and cigarettes she had given up in 1998. Navy and sensible shoes and ‘yes dear’ and ‘not now.’ You had your funeral in charcoal. Mine is pink. Barbie bloody pink. And I’m not sorry. A tear escaped, cutting a bright path through the rouge. It hung on the veil like dew on candyfloss before soaking in. She rose slowly, arthritic joints protesting and moved to the ancient radiogram in the corner. The needle settled onto an old 78. A scratchy soprano began to sing something unbearably sentimental about lost loves and rose gardens. Hanimefendi began to sway. The gown whispered against itself. The frills trembled. The veil floated like breath. In the mirror a vast, pink, glittering figure danced alone widowed, overweight, outrageously made up, and for the first time in six decades entirely herself. She was mourning, yes. But she was mourning in colour. And the house, for one evening at least, smelled faintly of rose talc, hot satin, and the sweetest kind of revenge.0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 7K Views3
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The rain came down in silver sheets, turning the cobbles into black mirrors that reflected the sodium glow of the single working streetlamp. I leaned against its rusted iron, the cold metal biting through the heavy layers of satin and chiffon like it wanted to remind me I was still flesh under all this funeral drag.
I took a long drag on the cigarette, the cherry flaring briefly under the edge of my veil. The black chiffon draped across my face softened the world into shadow theatre, everything a little unreal, a little safer that way. My lips, painted the color of dried blood, left a faint crescent on the filter. I exhaled smoke that twisted upward to join the mist, two kinds of fog becoming one.
They called me Valentine in the old precinct days, before the badge became a liability and the mirror became an accusation. Now I was just Val to the few who still owed me favors, or the ones who needed someone who didn't flinch at the smell of blood and cheap perfume. Tonight the city smelled of both.
The gown dragged behind me like a widow's promise, long black satin, ankle-skimming, catching what little light there was and throwing it back in wet, liquid gleams. The blouse beneath frothed with rococo frills, glossy and ridiculous against the grime. Mourning attire from a century that knew how to grieve properly. I wore it because it fit the part I was playing: the ghost who refuses to lie down.
Somewhere in the alley behind me, my wardrobe waited in a condemned boarding house door half off its hinges, the only bright thing inside a floor length rainbow satin dress hanging like a forgotten carnival prize. Long sleeves, high ruffled collar, shimmering like oil on water. I kept it there the way some men keep a pistol in a drawer. A reminder that colour still existed, even if I only visited it in the dark.
A low rumble rolled through the street. The red double decker bus, the corpse of the only one left running those nights, it lay half-buried in fallen brick and twisted rebar two blocks down. Its paint had rusted to the color of old blood; one headlamp still flickered like a dying eye. No one bothered to tow it anymore. It was just another corpse in the landscape.
I flicked ash into a puddle. The cigarette hissed and went out. That's when I saw her silhouette at the mouth of the alley, trench coat too big, heels too high for the broken pavement. She moved like someone who knew she was being watched but couldn't afford to run.
She stopped under the cone of lamplight, rain tracing black rivulets down her face. Mascara already surrendered hours ago.
"You're late," I said, voice low, muffled by chiffon.
"You're early," she answered. Her eyes flicked over my outfit, the veil, the frills, the shine that didn't belong here. She didn't laugh. Smart girl. "They said you were... particular about appearances."
"They say a lot of things." I pushed off the lamppost. The gown whispered against itself with every step. "You got the envelope?"
She reached inside her coat, produced a slim packet sealed with red wax. Her hand trembled just enough to notice.
"Inside is everything, names, dates, the garment dress warehouse on Cutler Street. They think they're untouchable because they own half the magistrates and all the shadows." She swallowed. "But they killed my sister. Slowly. For asking too many questions about the satin shipments."
I took the envelope without looking at it. Slipped it inside the satin folds where a heart should be.
"And what do you want from me?" I asked.
"Justice." The word sounded small and antique in her mouth. "Or revenge. Whichever comes first."
I studied her through the veil. Young. Broken in the right places. The kind of client who pays in blood or tears, sometimes both.
"Revenge is expensive," I told her. "And justice... justice is just revenge wearing prettier clothes."
She met my eyes, dark eyeliner smudged into war paint. "Then I'll pay the price."
I nodded once. The rain drummed harder, like applause for bad decisions.
"Go home," I said. "Lock the doors. Burn anything with your name on it. I'll find you when it's done."
She hesitated, then turned and walked back into the dark. Her heels clicked once, twice, then nothing.
I lit another cigarette. The flame briefly illuminated my reflection in the wet lamppost glass: black lips, darker eyes, a widow who never married, a detective who never solved anything clean.
The city exhaled around me, smoke, rain, rust.
I started walking toward Cutler Street.
The rainbow dress in the wardrobe would have to wait another night.
Some colours aren't meant to be worn in the light.The rain came down in silver sheets, turning the cobbles into black mirrors that reflected the sodium glow of the single working streetlamp. I leaned against its rusted iron, the cold metal biting through the heavy layers of satin and chiffon like it wanted to remind me I was still flesh under all this funeral drag. I took a long drag on the cigarette, the cherry flaring briefly under the edge of my veil. The black chiffon draped across my face softened the world into shadow theatre, everything a little unreal, a little safer that way. My lips, painted the color of dried blood, left a faint crescent on the filter. I exhaled smoke that twisted upward to join the mist, two kinds of fog becoming one. They called me Valentine in the old precinct days, before the badge became a liability and the mirror became an accusation. Now I was just Val to the few who still owed me favors, or the ones who needed someone who didn't flinch at the smell of blood and cheap perfume. Tonight the city smelled of both. The gown dragged behind me like a widow's promise, long black satin, ankle-skimming, catching what little light there was and throwing it back in wet, liquid gleams. The blouse beneath frothed with rococo frills, glossy and ridiculous against the grime. Mourning attire from a century that knew how to grieve properly. I wore it because it fit the part I was playing: the ghost who refuses to lie down. Somewhere in the alley behind me, my wardrobe waited in a condemned boarding house door half off its hinges, the only bright thing inside a floor length rainbow satin dress hanging like a forgotten carnival prize. Long sleeves, high ruffled collar, shimmering like oil on water. I kept it there the way some men keep a pistol in a drawer. A reminder that colour still existed, even if I only visited it in the dark. A low rumble rolled through the street. The red double decker bus, the corpse of the only one left running those nights, it lay half-buried in fallen brick and twisted rebar two blocks down. Its paint had rusted to the color of old blood; one headlamp still flickered like a dying eye. No one bothered to tow it anymore. It was just another corpse in the landscape. I flicked ash into a puddle. The cigarette hissed and went out. That's when I saw her silhouette at the mouth of the alley, trench coat too big, heels too high for the broken pavement. She moved like someone who knew she was being watched but couldn't afford to run. She stopped under the cone of lamplight, rain tracing black rivulets down her face. Mascara already surrendered hours ago. "You're late," I said, voice low, muffled by chiffon. "You're early," she answered. Her eyes flicked over my outfit, the veil, the frills, the shine that didn't belong here. She didn't laugh. Smart girl. "They said you were... particular about appearances." "They say a lot of things." I pushed off the lamppost. The gown whispered against itself with every step. "You got the envelope?" She reached inside her coat, produced a slim packet sealed with red wax. Her hand trembled just enough to notice. "Inside is everything, names, dates, the garment dress warehouse on Cutler Street. They think they're untouchable because they own half the magistrates and all the shadows." She swallowed. "But they killed my sister. Slowly. For asking too many questions about the satin shipments." I took the envelope without looking at it. Slipped it inside the satin folds where a heart should be. "And what do you want from me?" I asked. "Justice." The word sounded small and antique in her mouth. "Or revenge. Whichever comes first." I studied her through the veil. Young. Broken in the right places. The kind of client who pays in blood or tears, sometimes both. "Revenge is expensive," I told her. "And justice... justice is just revenge wearing prettier clothes." She met my eyes, dark eyeliner smudged into war paint. "Then I'll pay the price." I nodded once. The rain drummed harder, like applause for bad decisions. "Go home," I said. "Lock the doors. Burn anything with your name on it. I'll find you when it's done." She hesitated, then turned and walked back into the dark. Her heels clicked once, twice, then nothing. I lit another cigarette. The flame briefly illuminated my reflection in the wet lamppost glass: black lips, darker eyes, a widow who never married, a detective who never solved anything clean. The city exhaled around me, smoke, rain, rust. I started walking toward Cutler Street. The rainbow dress in the wardrobe would have to wait another night. Some colours aren't meant to be worn in the light.
1 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 4K Views
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Scan This Code And Join My Telegram 🫰 Link---(https://t.me/mumbaiindians1998)Scan This Code And Join My Telegram ❤️🫰 Link---(https://t.me/mumbaiindians1998)
0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 2K Views1
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No Ridiculous FaceApp, Snapchat Filters, Ai Face/Body Fake pics, always Smooth Shaven.
"Join the Naughty CD Stories Group Chat"
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All my Very Naughty Pictures here xxx
https://www.flickr.com/people/11512300@N05/No Ridiculous FaceApp, Snapchat Filters, Ai Face/Body Fake pics, always Smooth Shaven. "Join the Naughty CD Stories Group Chat" -------------------- All my Very Naughty Pictures here xxx https://www.flickr.com/people/11512300@N05/
0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 4K Views
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No Ridiculous FaceApp, Snapchat Filters, Ai Face/Body Fake pics, always Smooth Shaven.
"Join the Naughty CD Stories Group Chat"
--------------------
All my Very Naughty Pictures here xxx
https://www.flickr.com/people/11512300@N05/No Ridiculous FaceApp, Snapchat Filters, Ai Face/Body Fake pics, always Smooth Shaven. "Join the Naughty CD Stories Group Chat" -------------------- All my Very Naughty Pictures here xxx https://www.flickr.com/people/11512300@N05/
4 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 3K Views8
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No Ridiculous FaceApp, Snapchat Filters, Ai Face/Body Fake pics, always Smooth Shaven.
"Join the Naughty CD Stories Group Chat"
--------------------
All my Very Naughty Pictures here xxx
https://www.flickr.com/people/11512300@N05/No Ridiculous FaceApp, Snapchat Filters, Ai Face/Body Fake pics, always Smooth Shaven. "Join the Naughty CD Stories Group Chat" -------------------- All my Very Naughty Pictures here xxx https://www.flickr.com/people/11512300@N05/
0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 4K Views
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No Ridiculous FaceApp, Snapchat Filters, Ai Face/Body Fake pics, always Smooth Shaven.
"Join the Naughty CD Stories Group Chat"
--------------------
All my Very Naughty Pictures here xxx
https://www.flickr.com/people/11512300@N05/No Ridiculous FaceApp, Snapchat Filters, Ai Face/Body Fake pics, always Smooth Shaven. "Join the Naughty CD Stories Group Chat" -------------------- All my Very Naughty Pictures here xxx https://www.flickr.com/people/11512300@N05/
4 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 3K Views6
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No Ridiculous FaceApp, Snapchat Filters, Ai Face/Body Fake pics, always Smooth Shaven.
"Join the Naughty CD Stories Group Chat"
--------------------
All my Very Naughty Pictures here xxx
https://www.flickr.com/people/11512300@N05/No Ridiculous FaceApp, Snapchat Filters, Ai Face/Body Fake pics, always Smooth Shaven. "Join the Naughty CD Stories Group Chat" -------------------- All my Very Naughty Pictures here xxx https://www.flickr.com/people/11512300@N05/
5 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 4K Views
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Goodnight gURLs I’ve got my nightie on ready for bed feel free to join me? Love you all I’ve had a few wines tonight so I’m available & anybody’s! Might fall asleep though but at least I won’t fight back! He heGoodnight gURLs I’ve got my nightie on ready for bed 😘 🥰 feel free to join me? Love ❤️ you all 💋 I’ve had a few wines tonight so I’m available & anybody’s! Might fall asleep though but at least I won’t fight back! He he 🥰0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 3K Views
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Why I love CDs....
For me in particular CDs have a no fuss approach to Sex, we know what we want and we get on with it on every earliest opportunity....
We tend to have fewer excuses to say no...
Of course I'm not talking relationships at all, that really is not for me....
Although a local CD would get plenty of commitment from me and I know I would get it back...
The words above just about sum me up perfectly, but I do have to admit I am very week and a little bit of a Slut..
Have a look at all my Favourites and anything like that put in front of me will get Extracted and Fed from asap...
A smooth **** in Stockings and I'm very week, everything above that **** really does NOT matter, if you spread those legs and ask me to Suck it dry, I will without question.... Sorry I'm like this.....
Check out my FAVOURITES here
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/11512300@N05/favorites">www.flickr.com/photos/11512300@N05/favorites</a>
Join my GROUP with my Best Pictures and Very Naughty Stories
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/groups/14871084@N25/">www.flickr.com/groups/14871084@N25/</a>Why I love CDs.... For me in particular CDs have a no fuss approach to Sex, we know what we want and we get on with it on every earliest opportunity.... We tend to have fewer excuses to say no... Of course I'm not talking relationships at all, that really is not for me.... Although a local CD would get plenty of commitment from me and I know I would get it back... The words above just about sum me up perfectly, but I do have to admit I am very week and a little bit of a Slut.. Have a look at all my Favourites and anything like that put in front of me will get Extracted and Fed from asap... A smooth cock in Stockings and I'm very week, everything above that cock really does NOT matter, if you spread those legs and ask me to Suck it dry, I will without question.... Sorry I'm like this..... Check out my FAVOURITES here <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/11512300@N05/favorites">www.flickr.com/photos/11512300@N05/favorites</a> Join my GROUP with my Best Pictures and Very Naughty Stories <a href="https://www.flickr.com/groups/14871084@N25/">www.flickr.com/groups/14871084@N25/</a>
4 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 5K Views
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What is it with all the people joining lately with tje weird corporate looking logos as their profile pics that look like they have been designed by the same person, or app?? Is it the same person with multiple accounts, or different people using the same app to create weird logos for themselves to use on different social media accounts??What is it with all the people joining lately with tje weird corporate looking logos as their profile pics that look like they have been designed by the same person, or app?? Is it the same person with multiple accounts, or different people using the same app to create weird logos for themselves to use on different social media accounts??5 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 3K Views
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I recently fell down a rabbit hole of AI storytelling games and discovered a game someone made where you're a guy that has to pretend to be a girl and joining a girly pop group. For obvious reasons it got me a little addicted! Might have lost a couple of hours this afternoon pretending to be in a girl band...I recently fell down a rabbit hole of AI storytelling games and discovered a game someone made where you're a guy that has to pretend to be a girl and joining a girly pop group. For obvious reasons it got me a little addicted! Might have lost a couple of hours this afternoon pretending to be in a girl band... 😅😇7 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 4K Views
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I'm getting sick and tired of these fake accounts and mistr3ss accounts who constantly harass myself and many others. I joined thinking this would be an escape to make new friends and support people. Now I'm second guessing even joining this site. I may delete my account in the near future and move elsewhere if the admins and owner don't clean this site up!!!
I'm sure many others on this platform feel the same way I do. I'm sure many wanna leave because of the filth that's allowed on here!!I'm getting sick and tired of these fake accounts and mistr3ss accounts who constantly harass myself and many others. I joined thinking this would be an escape to make new friends and support people. Now I'm second guessing even joining this site. I may delete my account in the near future and move elsewhere if the admins and owner don't clean this site up!!! I'm sure many others on this platform feel the same way I do. I'm sure many wanna leave because of the filth that's allowed on here!!8 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 4K Views
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So I've just joined and wqs hoping tk post a photo etc. But confused as using a mobile phone and theres all these pop up adverts. I live in Manchester thankfully so all is goodSo I've just joined and wqs hoping tk post a photo etc. But confused as using a mobile phone and theres all these pop up adverts. I live in Manchester thankfully so all is good4 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 4K Views5
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I want to go out with someone and strip down to town in only our liengere or sexy bras and panties with fishnet leggings and heels and go to a club and public space and hang out together dressed that way around friends go take some sexy pics together and go out together dressed in lingerie. It would be fun to wear this to town with someone joining in as well.I want to go out with someone and strip down to town in only our liengere or sexy bras and panties with fishnet leggings and heels and go to a club and public space and hang out together dressed that way around friends go take some sexy pics together and go out together dressed in lingerie. It would be fun to wear this to town with someone joining in as well.4 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 6K Views 2657
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I'm thinking of starting an OnlyFans page. Would anyone join?
https://www.youtube.com/shorts/-ev7-YAIUdEI'm thinking of starting an OnlyFans page. Would anyone join? https://www.youtube.com/shorts/-ev7-YAIUdE
4 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 5K Views
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All alone Saturday night so Nikki can parade about all night in her lingerie and heels . Anyone fancy joining me for some dressing up/undressing fun online or phone or car meet xxxAll alone Saturday night so Nikki can parade about all night in her lingerie and heels 😍. Anyone fancy joining me for some dressing up/undressing fun online or phone or car meet 😘😘😘xxx2 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 5K Views2
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When will the idiots stop using this site a fetish site! There are other sites for that, more popular ones at that! This is a SOCIAL NETWORK FOR CROSSDRESSERS.. Not a pick up joint for admirers, not a place fake doms can scam people (how niave do you have to be to fall for that?), not a fetish site, this is a place for fellow crossdressers to come together and socialise with each other, swap hints and tips, share and admire each others makeup, hair and clothes.
The rules are explicit, why do people ignore them! The clues in the name, its a Crossdressing Social Network!When will the idiots stop using this site a fetish site! There are other sites for that, more popular ones at that! This is a SOCIAL NETWORK FOR CROSSDRESSERS.. Not a pick up joint for admirers, not a place fake doms can scam people (how niave do you have to be to fall for that?), not a fetish site, this is a place for fellow crossdressers to come together and socialise with each other, swap hints and tips, share and admire each others makeup, hair and clothes. The rules are explicit, why do people ignore them! The clues in the name, its a Crossdressing Social Network!3 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 8K Views
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So im at work this weekend, my wife is at her boyfriends and I’m 20 mins in at work and board already hope you all have a great weekend, l free to keep me entertained and who knows maybe soon I’ll be able to join you all in the land of love, stockings and naughtiness x x x
So im at work this weekend, my wife is at her boyfriends and I’m 20 mins in at work and board already hope you all have a great weekend, l free to keep me entertained and who knows maybe soon I’ll be able to join you all in the land of love, stockings and naughtiness x x x3 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 4K Views2
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My dear sissy to be I'll hope you are capable of being on the training platform
Hey, I'm using Telegram to chat. Join me! Download it here: https://telegram.org/dl
Add me as a friend on Discord! Invite expires in 1 week: https://discord.gg/MjD6CXt2My dear sissy to be I'll hope you are capable of being on the training platform Hey, I'm using Telegram to chat. Join me! Download it here: https://telegram.org/dl Add me as a friend on Discord! Invite expires in 1 week: https://discord.gg/MjD6CXt2
0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 5K Views -
How much smut could a slutty slut smut if a smutty slut did slutty smut?!
...
Srsly tho .. Asking for a friend - ToppedToys.
I did a thing at the beginning of the year and somehow became a Product Ambassador for ToppedToys and joined their #SlutSquad. #goals #toytime #slut #smut
How much smut could a slutty slut smut if a smutty slut did slutty smut?! ... Srsly tho .. Asking for a friend - ToppedToys. I did a thing at the beginning of the year and somehow became a Product Ambassador for ToppedToys and joined their #SlutSquad. #goals #toytime #slut #smut0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 6K Views4
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https://faphouse.com/models/best-crossdressr-body-ever
BestCrossdressing
a month ago
Hi my lovely King Cross dress fans 🩵-
CUM and join my Fanclub. (https://faphouse.com/models/best-crossdressr-body-ever) and Along with your Entrance you will recieve this Fantastic Video with Super Sexy Mix of My Kingcrossdress Content as a Teaser and A Pleaser For Your pleasure 🩵exclusive content That you will find nowhere else and is unique amongst a sea of skin and bodies online and more specifically for unique and extremely sexy bodies and personalities as I am KinG CrosSDresS And I know that you will love my exclusive content and you can chat with me and request certain things and I would love to cater to your pleasures
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https://faphouse.com/models/best-crossdressr-body-ever BestCrossdressing a month ago Hi my lovely King Cross dress fans 🩵- CUM and join my Fanclub. (https://faphouse.com/models/best-crossdressr-body-ever) and Along with your Entrance you will recieve this Fantastic Video with Super Sexy Mix of My Kingcrossdress Content as a Teaser and A Pleaser For Your pleasure 🩵exclusive content That you will find nowhere else and is unique amongst a sea of skin and bodies online and more specifically for unique and extremely sexy bodies and personalities as I am KinG CrosSDresS And I know that you will love my exclusive content and you can chat with me and request certain things and I would love to cater to your pleasures https://faphouse.com/models/best-crossdressr-body-ever1 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 6K Views1
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Hey everyone.
First day back after a family holiday, back to the normal routine. Back to work!! I work in the construction industry, a very masculine industry, and it's what I have been doing since I left school. I am a joiner, have my own workshop and work on my own most of the time. I always wear knickers to work and in the winter, when it's cold and I'm always wearing a jumper I usually wear a lacy body, basque or sometimes a corset under my work clothes. Always wearing stockings, hold ups obviously. It's my way of bringing Sammy into my everyday life, in secret of course. It's hard to make changes to your body without it being noticed, have to be slow and subtle.
It's also back to the exercise routine. Had a bit of over indulgence whilst away so got to get rid of the tummy. Also saw lots of lovely bums in bikinis on the beach and was so envious. I really need to improve my bum. Any tips anyone to get a bigger shaplier butt?
Sammy. XxHey everyone. First day back after a family holiday, back to the normal routine. Back to work!! I work in the construction industry, a very masculine industry, and it's what I have been doing since I left school. I am a joiner, have my own workshop and work on my own most of the time. I always wear knickers to work and in the winter, when it's cold and I'm always wearing a jumper I usually wear a lacy body, basque or sometimes a corset under my work clothes. Always wearing stockings, hold ups obviously. It's my way of bringing Sammy into my everyday life, in secret of course. It's hard to make changes to your body without it being noticed, have to be slow and subtle. It's also back to the exercise routine. Had a bit of over indulgence whilst away so got to get rid of the tummy. Also saw lots of lovely bums in bikinis on the beach and was so envious. I really need to improve my bum. Any tips anyone to get a bigger shaplier butt? Sammy. Xx16 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 9K Views
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