Hairy legs and heels 3 sizes too small……xx

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.

It has been a while since I could be Patti ( myself ) and I really miss being her, I love the feeling of wearing heels and a short dress to show off my legs( old ) Patti really wants to dress up with another cd and maybe if the timing is right have some fun being Patti and her girlfriend, I would love to dress in swim wear and hang on the beach and then get dressed up in a pretty dress with makeup and some sexy looking heels and go out to a beach bar maybe even do a little dancing , the only problem is which dress to wear!

quick rest from driving to stretch the legs

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

Bought this short dress yesterday from Op Shop for $5! I absolutely love it. Really shows off my legs

I often cold in miniskirt
But now keep legs wraped in coat...

Some more lovely legs x

Shyness in Cold

I was too shy
To show legs
I waited it
Too long.
I lost my beauty
And my days
are over, over
Though
I wear mini
Despite cold
I need to warm
Myself.
And maybe
If my coat long
My shyness
Do not rebel...

Lots of legs and gussets mm

This **** craving cum guzzling sissy is bout to get spun and I need to have a woman or a few women to get to watch my mouth and tight little sissy ass penetrated and gaped by these toys or anything else you want to see me shove in my mouth or up my ass and get a close-up video of me begging to have all my pictures and videos uploaded on every media platform l you can and I need to have a job on my knees sucking dick in front of everyone and the best thing is I don't have any problems with my own mom and my wife seeing my mouth and tight little sissy ass raped raw and soaked in cum by multiple bbcs on a live stream cam show . Like my legs and ass cheeks my PM is ALWAYS open. Now who wants to turn me out

lovely smooth legs and my little red panties

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.

silly joke time... what do you call a cow with 3 legs? lean beef. what do you call a cow with no legs? ground beef, and what do you call a cow with 2 legs? Yo mama lol

I love wearing pantyhose on my legs

Sorry about the hairy legs, it's too hot for stockings or tights, not to mention wigs
I'm looking forward to some cooler weather in the next few days

Awwwww i still cannot stop thinking of the dress! I so ache to wear it right now and i was so happy wearing it last tuesday as the layers gently rubbed against my legs! Mmmmm

Very nice legs and lovely stockings- love to run my hands over them x

Silently moaning with pleasure as the layers rub against my bare legs mmmmm

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

Why ??? ...

I often think
About girls
Who like
To live
Me with...

Who I am?
Prince in funny dress?
A doll?
Or just Caprise?
Or do they feel in me
Princess
Who's different and soft?
Not too agressive at the end
"With money , tools and worth..."

I do not know...
When I'm dressed
Some look on me
With interest...
So I am not
Prevert for them...
But who?
Hermaphrodite?
Not yet?

Or maybe many are
Just blind....
Attracted to my legs?
Or envy?
I did never mind
If girls have interest

Some few who knew me
In the past
Are still confused
And cold...
I do not know
Should or must
I take off all my shorts?
Should I be naked
Or be in tights?
What difference it makes?
Or visous circle locks so tight... in there
By witch spelt...?
Why we're rejected
Being in tights?
Why liked to be just naked?
This problem's wondering
My mind
Why it is sin to be so stright.
To walk
To show legs...
Why it is frightening
For whem
If not about sex...?
I do not know
In my brain
There is perhaps a gap ..

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."

Hold me by my hips and run you hand over my body curbs.
help me spred my legs for you and feel you slide in.
Be my lead CD friend that I'll trust and give you all.

It was the best feeling in the world! Sitting down in my favourite dress while i feel the layers gently rub against my legs while gently feeling the enormous full skirt!

There's something about these leather pants that really intrigues me... that feeling of tightness against my legs is something wonderful.

I hope I'm not the only one who feels that. Let me know.

Leg day, time to show my long beautyful legs

I am going to repost my top 10 photos from last year. But first I have a photo that AI helped me with. I asked AI to add make-up and this is the result. Putting make-up on can take me at least an hour to do it right. Of course AI may have also taken my face lines away but the face is still mine. Totally amazing. Please comments. And yes this is my body, arms, legs, tummy, hair with a little added on top byAI! ( I think it made me a size D and I am a actual size B)

It's t to start showing legs a bit more brvely...:)

Shaven legs so smooth

Cindi legs

I dont want to show bad things ok. Just see my legs my new stockings.

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
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Join my GROUP with my Best Pictures and Very Naughty Stories
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Some re-uploads #legs #pantyhose #nylons #heels #tights #feet

Bare smooth legs

Who wants to be my cum donor or donors ( more the merrier ) just want fucking and spunking all over my ass whilst im pinning my legs back

I have a fetish for kissing stockinged feet and legs, especially on my Mistre ss

Good evening girls, just been sorting my underwear draws and realised I need more draws! Or maybe a walk in wardrobe? I've also had a nice relaxing bath and full shave, then aplied Avon skin so soft. It really feels nice on smooth legs

Everybody loves legs and nylons mmmm Bellisima

#legs#nylons

I wnt a new job. Hard work is 2 much lol. Sxy Secretary any1? Msg me legs up or down n Ill send u wat I cnt show u lmaoooo

(For those that can Read)
No Time To Waste

A CD that I've been chatting with for some time got in touch and asked if I had time to pop over for a very quick visit, he only had a 40 minutes window of opportunity.
We were both on the no mess side of fun in both ways, we knew it was all about pleasure and I made sure it was also about Feeding.
With a short 40 minutes window I knew I would have to be ready when I arrived at his place, my lingerie was on under my Joggers, I made is as simple as possible, Stocking Tights, Sheer Thong, Tight Black matching lace Crop top under my Hoodie, that just left my Stilettos in my bag of guddies.
I arrived at his at the exact time, 9:30am and he let me in, I could see he was also dressed ready under his robe, oddly enough he went for a Bodystocking with Thong and Stilettos also in black, while removing our normal clothing we chatted more and agreed to just get on with it.
We stood in the living room and I bent over and pulled his Thong down and off, like me if he is cold or nervous his co ck starts off very small, I love this bit, because just for a little moment I can get all his Sacks and Co ck in my mouth in one, rolling them round giving them a good sucking and gentle stretch, this only lasted a couple of minutes before he started to get hard, at this point he got me up and removed my Thong and pushed me onto the sofa, grabbed my knees in each hand, spread me wide and sucked me in exactly the same way, a few minutes later I was solid, he then got me up and took me into the bedroom where he got on the bed, lay down lifted his legs back and spread ready, I climbed on top and placed my arms in front of each leg holding them back, sliding down ready to work my Feeding Stick in front of me, he had reached round to my legs which I spread either side of his head (69) our favourite feeding position, he pulled my legs apart a little more until I was already in his mouth, he wasted no time at all in starting his extraction, me also, dropping down onto his valve, working it best I could, I loved being on top as you always seem to get more co ck to suck, but when Feeding I prefer to be underneath so I get every drop.
He was really going for it on my Feeding Stick, he knew my weekness, putting his lips just behind my head, sucking 2 or 3 inches back and forth up and down my shaft, tight as he could, I knew his weakness was his sensitive Co ck Head, so I sucked extra on his head between shaft slides, then back to his head again, I could tell he was doing better than me as only about 15 minutes had gone when I was getting close, he knew it too, sucking faster and tighter, in my excitement I got faster too, I shot my little load into his mouth which went down instantly, he kept sucking till he had every drop, I quickly said swap, and we rolled over, so his Feeding Stick was now in my mouth, I carried on from underneath sucking on his head and shaft, a few minutes later he started to moan, I knew my gift was on its way, my gift of food for my hard work, I was so thankful when his shaft started to pulsate and pump, he filled my mouth twice, I felt quite bad that I could not give him as much... After I extracted every drop and thanked him for his generous deposit, he got ready for work and I left for home, ready for my next feed....

Patti definitely needs a beach trip, need some sun on my legs

Morning all legs nice and smooth

Love my legs xx

#highheels #qos #legs

I dream of safely leaving the house dressed up, especially if a stranger finds out about me and it excited them.
I dressed as snow white one Halloween "for a laugh" and went to a party where a couple of men I knew " jokingly" groped my butt and legs and I fell down a rabbit hole and I never got out, Iwonder if they were as aware of my growing lump in my panties as I was of there's in rheir jeans, Iand still love to be groped