It's wet, Im going shopping in my new Pink Sissy knickers. WHen I get back Im going to have fun.

A wet day, so going to clean my coffee machine, dressed as somebody. SHower aftyer then fun, well, fun in shower then get dressed. I think today, I will be a Sissy in pink.

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.

Another wet rainy day, a day to stay in I guess, Oh what to do????

Lucy1CD

Wetlook leggings and heels??

I'm loving my plug in my hole my thong tight between my cheeks holding in and feeling a bit pre cum dripping out getting my gusset wet and feel like a proper slut and wishing I was giving oral pleasure and tasting lots of juices

Just a little dress up to wet your whistle and be naughty x hehe 🫢
#pvcskirt #pettiskirt #stockings #suspenders #highheels

Well need to take a bath,, so change of Pantyhose that i will do on my Bath... Love to see those wet looking Pantyhose..

Was seriously thinking about going for my first walk outside. Was gonna drive to nearby town and go for walk on seafront but it's cold wet and windy so another time. Will try on some outfits instead.

Morning girls very dull and wet here xx

Wearing my cheap trashy plastic knickers tonight, hoping to get them all wet and sticky, please message me if you want to help me x

Good morning. Another week done and another wet day . Stay dry

Sissy Sophie has just wet myself and needs to be punished, sorry

Good evening from a wet miserable Nottingham

I'm debating whether to go out on Thursday afternoon or not I might Wetherspoon or somewhere different what do you think

Good evening everybody we are in the grip of January and it is cold and wet here but it is at least a good excuse to put on a nice dress and some warm and soft opaque tights xx

My fingers tremble, just a faint quiver, as I reach for the foil packet on the nightstand. It’s almost weightless, a promise in silver. I tear it open with deliberate care (the small rip loud in the stillness), and the condom unfurls like liquid mercury. Cool and impossibly thin, it glides down over my already aching ****, sheathing me in a trembling second skin. Safe. Secure. A fragile barrier between me and the avalanche of satin to come. A bead of pre-cum kisses the latex tip; I smile. Patience, little sissy. You’ll have your reward.
The first layer is a whisper-pink satin chemise, so fine it feels wet. I let it slither over my head, down my chest, until the hem brushes mid-thigh. Instantly it warms, clings, releases, and clings again with every breath. My palms chase the fabric, front and back, greedy for the slick heat blooming beneath my touch.
Next, the Black nightgown (double-layered, heavy, devotional). I step into it and draw it upward. The inner lining kisses the chemise, and they sigh together: shhh, shhh, my private lullaby. It falls to my ankles in a perfect liquid column. When I move, both layers ripple, cool against cool, warmer where my body heat pools.
The robe is deep rose, quilted satin outside, and champagne gloss within. Arms slide into sleeves, and the lining floods over my skin like chilled cream poured slow. I cinch the sash, and the world contracts: four surfaces of satin now stroking one another with every heartbeat (chemise on nightgown, nightgown on robe lining, lining on skin). I walk barefoot across the room, and the fabrics answer in overlapping waves: the chemise clings, the nightgown glides, and the robe slithers and sweeps. A private orchestra of frictionless lust.
In the mirror I’m only blush and ivory shimmer, face flushed above an ocean of gloss. I lift my arms; sleeves fall back like slow-motion waterfalls. When they drop, the collapse is a soft, wet thud against my body that I feel in my teeth.
I sink onto the midnight-blue satin duvet and let the robe bloom beneath me. On my back, layers flatten and spread, cool against my shoulder blades, my thighs, and the arches of my feet. I arch (just slightly) and the slide is obscene: satin on satin on satin, endless, merciless.
Knees drawn up, fabric pools thick and warm between my thighs like molten candy. My palms smooth down the front (quilted diamonds, slick columns, clinging chemise, skin), and every layer moves with me, against me, inside me.
Now the first of my headscarves, ballet-slipper pink, three feet of pure satin. Folded triangle wide, draped, pulled beneath my chin, crossed, and knotted tight. It cups my jaw and seals my throat. A second knot sits just under my lower lip like a soft gag. The world muffles instantly.
Second scarf, ivory and heavier. Over the first, tied again triangle wide. Four thicknesses now cradle my head, press my cheeks, and frame my face in a gleaming oval.
Third, a deep rose bandeau wound low, looped twice, and knotted at my nape. My chin is forced gently down; swallowing makes every layer glide against my throat in one slow, liquid swallow of its own.
Then the veils.
Pink chiffon, so sheer it’s barely there, yet it turns every texture beneath into a caress. Ivory voile next, pinned high, floating like breath. Last, pale mint over my face alone, tucked beneath the lowest knot. The room becomes watercolor. Breathing through it is filthy intimacy: the fabric flutters against my lips, tasting faintly of dye and my own heat.
A final white satin ribbon, narrow and merciless. Three coils around my neck over every knot, until only a thick, glossy band remains, pulsing with my heartbeat.
From crown to toe, only satin and chiffon speak. When I turn my head, the scarves whisper, and the veils drift like perfume. Pressure under my chin is constant, loving, and absolute.
One sleeved hand slips beneath the pooled folds at my thighs (satin, satin, satin then the cool, taut drum of latex). The contrast is blinding. I stroke once, slowly. My breath flutters the veil against my lips.
Knees higher. The other hand presses the stacked knots beneath my chin (gentle ownership). I begin: lazy circles that turn greedy. The condom translates every ridge of fabric into bright, liquid fire. Veils drift across my chest with each ragged inhale. Heat blooms, trapped, multiplied, sacred.
Faster. Hips rock. The robe lining slithers against the duvet in one long, wet slide. Scarves tighten as my head sinks deeper into the pillow; the ribbon collar throbs.
Release crashes silent and total. I bite down on nothing but chiffon, a muffled whimper swallowed by layers. Pleasure pours into the latex sheath in thick, obedient pulses, trapped and perfect, echoing through every fold until my whole body is one long satin tremor.
After, I lie glowing. The condom keeps me immaculate (another reverent layer). My chest rises and falls beneath quilted satin and drifting voile; tiny aftershocks ripple like quiet tides.

Sea Storm

Second day
Waves
And horrible
Wind
Second
Day
I am staying in doors
I will try
Go wet
As I wish
Never mind
Future cough
After cold
Magic tights
Keep me warm
In my mind...
I enjoy
Tickling
Blow of wind
I will walk
Walk to meet you
To... find...
If we right
If we might
If we fit...

I thought to give a wet look dress a go. Nice feel on the body but a bit too revealing maybe? What's the verdict? Keep or bin?

Good morning girls very wet outdoors, take care and stay warm and dry.
Xxx

Morning girls hope you all ok and have had a great weekend bit wet and windy here in midlands

Morning girls it’s wet outside stay warm and comfortable. Hope you all have a nice weekend. Xxx

Wet and cold out winter tights on with a black dress chilling

Well, lets start with FATE HATES ME. I went to visit my Dad. He lives close by so I just put a dress on my sport bra and stings. What can go wrong….? I brought donats and Dad asked me to prepare sodas. He is using sodastream. I had a choice with the syrups Pepsi or Tonic. Fate hates me, so I chose tonic. I always know it, I always remember that the tonic syrup (and only tonic) always makes the fountain unless the bottle is closed instantly. Today is Friday, I was waiting for the weekend and drinks back at home… and forgot. Everything, I mean everything on me was wet (I was trying not to flood the entire kitchen so took all the load on me – somebody may say it’s sexy other can add it’s a turn on and I will not argue that , but I was soaked wet at my father’s..). I sweared like a sailor and He came to see what happened, saw me all wet and said take it all off……… I run to the bathroom, no problem with bra, but panties. I did something that will haunt me for the rest of my life…. Found some in the dirt basket. Not mine. I was fighting for my life, please understand…. :) And survived! Have a great weekend! Picture is here just to underline that Fate hates me.

Santa & Mrs. Claus: Threeway at the North Pole Continued: She jumped up and down on my ****, as she was doing that I was massaging her boobs. Then I sat up and kissed her, we exchanged tongues and sucked on each other's lips as I groped her backside. Her age was far from my mind. I was able to force her on to her back on my bed so I could top her. It has been way too long since I was in that position over anyone, especially a woman. It felt so good to be the dominant alpha, the one in control, for a change. Normally I am very submissive and only receive...again, being treated like a girl. And I could tell Mrs. Claus was enjoying it, too. The moans, cries, screams, and yells and other sounds she was making, plus the huge smile on her face, told me she was in Heaven.

I plowed her over and over....the bed was shaking back and forth as I thrusted into her again and again...getting deeper each time...her old but wet ***** felt like a moist velvet glove around my rock hard penis and I wanted very much to seed her and leave my DNA in her. I was going to conquer Santa's wife, Mrs. Claus!
"Ho, ho, ho!" Just then we heard that now familiar and loud, hearty laugh come from outside the room. "Damn!" Exclaimed Mrs. Claus. "Santa is home! He's early!"
I didn't climax, but pre-cum did leak into her vag as I asked, "what do we do?"
She pushed me off her and got up, fixing herself. "Cover yourself back up," Mrs. Claus instructed. "Try to look innocent."
I did.
Just then Santa walked in. Again, looking like the stereotypical Santa from every commercial and holiday movie or story. "What is going on here?" he demanded.
"We found Chrissy hurt after a bad crash and brought him back her to recoup," Mrs. Claus explained.
"Chrissy?" Santa asked with a smile, obviously reminiscing about the time he fucked me. He then saw me laying in bed. "CHRISSY!" he then yelled joyfully. "Ho, ho, ho! Imagine you being here! Ho, ho, ho!"
We were able to relax now knowing how happy Santa was. "Did Mrs. Claus take good care of you?" Santa asked me..

What do all ladies do on a wet week…sort the wardrobe so I’ve been lucky and found four new outfits. X hopefully you like the first x

Evening all on this wet and windy day in Birmingham

Morning ladies and friends bit wet looks like bra and panties day

Good afternoon on this damp wet day.
Xxxx

Afternoon girls x from a dank wet notts xx

My Christmas story continued: He had me get on my hands and knees and stick my ass up into the air. Santa got on his knees behind me and straddled my backside. He lifted up my lingerie nighty, pulled down my lace panties, then spread my buttcheeks to expose my tight, pink little hole. Santa didn't need lube, he was magical after all, as he entered me his dick got wet and slippery so that it moved freely into my rectum with no pain. He thrusted it rhythmically, gyrating...in and out..in and out..in and out...in...in...in...getting deeper each time. It was so big, it hit all my nerve endings and my p-spot giving me the coveted ass orgasm....while my dick got turned on and big, too....cum dripping from it...

"Ho...ho....ho..." Santa moaned in pure ecstasy as my sphincter and buttcheeks squeezed his ****. His man meat swelled, throbbed....then....BOOM! Like a volcano or bazooka it exploded and shot four squirts of his semen, his sperm, his DNA into my anal cavity. I could feel it as it wet my insides and got sticky. "Ho, ho, ho, hooooo!!!!!!!!!!" Santa yelled with enjoyment. And he slapped my ass just for fun. Meanwhile, I had also cum and got my panties soaked and sticky, some dripping on to the floor in front of me.

Santa stayed inside and on top of me for a minute or two while he caught his breath, then he pulled his awesome magical **** out of my hole, and I heard a "pop!" and wush sound of air escaping. I didn't see it, but Santa then zipped his pants back up and buckled his belt.

I got off my knees and stood up, fixing my panties and my nightgown, and turned to face Santa.

"Here," Santa said reaching into his bag, "I have a gift for you." He pulled out a card. Later I would discover it is a winning Lotto ticket with the award being in the millions of dollars. "Now you are back on my nice list," he added. "And I'll be visiting you more frequently."
As he flew off on his sleigh led by his reindeer, I could hear him yell, "Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas to all! And to all a good night! And Chrissy is a great ****!" More:

#sissy #femboy #transgender #gurl #sissyboy #tgirl #CD #crossdresser #crossdressing #transgirl #transwoman #adultcontent #nsfw

Christmas is cumming! Here is a traditional Christmas story! lol : It happened last Christmas Eve. Snow whispered against my window, blanketing the world in a serene hush as I drifted off under layers of warmth. The soft glow of the Christmas lights outside painted gentle colors on my walls, blending with the lace and satin of the red lingerie I had on. A sudden thud on the roof jolted me awake. My heart raced as I strained to hear more, the sound of bells jingling faintly and what could only be the sneeze of an animal carried through the stillness. I sat up, clutching my blankets closer. Moments later, a creak echoed from downstairs, like footsteps crossing the living room floor.

Still groggy but alert, I reached for my phone, ready to call for help if needed. Peering cautiously into the hallway, I heard a deep, hearty laugh resonate through the house. “Ho, ho, ho!” The voice was unmistakable, rich and warm, and yet impossible. Santa? No, it had to be some burglar pulling a strange stunt. My skepticism flared as I crept down the stairs, each step measured and quiet.

When I reached the living room, I froze. The space was bathed in a soft, unearthly glow, and standing before the tree was a man who looked every bit the part of Santa Claus—velvet red suit, snowy white beard, and a twinkle in his eye that seemed almost magical. He was munching on the cookies I’d left out as a joke, milk in hand.

"What the **** are you doing?" I yelled indignant.

The man turned around to look at me. "Watch your language, Chrissy," he scolded me gently. "You're already on my naughty list."

"How did you know my name?"

"Ho, ho, ho! I know everything about you, including when you're sleeping and when you are awake. I'm Santa!"

"Santa isn't real!"

"So you don't believe your eyes?"

"You're just some thug dressed up as Santa."

"Ho, ho, ho! Look up at the roof and tell me how a thug got a magical sleigh and a team of magical, flying reindeer. Ho, ho, ho!"

I didn't have to look, the noise I heard on my roof earlier lined up perfectly with that of reindeer.

"But...but...you're not real." I stuttered.

"Chrissy, I'm as real as you want me to be. And you have been naughty. Ho, ho, ho!"

"If that's true," I challenged. "Why are you in my home?"

"Ho! Ho! Ho! Because I love naughty boys, I give them a big gift! Ho! Ho! Ho!" With that he unbuckled his black broad buckled belt and unzipped his red pants. Out jumped his huge, wrinkled, snow-white penis, uncut of course with lots of foreskin, and it was hard and long. There was pre-cum already dripping from it. Santa winked at me then said, "cum get your gift, Chrissy. Ho! Ho! Ho!"

Being the naughty ladyboy femboy slut I am, I complied and fell to my knees in front of Santa. I grabbed his rock-hard **** and squeezed it while placing my lips around it. It was so salty, vinegary, wet and sticky. His manjuices were already leaking into my mouth as I sucked on him. slurp slurp slurp I stroked his dick as I sucked, then started fucking him with my mouth...going up and down, up and down on his penis...my tongue would lick the tip and shaft at times.

Santa's dick started to swell and throb...but he pushed my head away. "Ho, ho, ho! He said, "I finish in naughty boy's ass."

(Continued in next post)

#sissy #femboy #transgender #gurl #sissyboy #tgirl #CD #crossdresser #crossdressing #transgirl #transwoman #adultcontent #nsfw

So, my aunt lives in the forest. She asked me to help her cleaning the roof of leaves and needles. As today was a cold but sunny day, I though wearing nice panties on the root is a good idea. I took g-string, the same I am wearing on the attached picture (To avoid all questions concerning the picture: Under my regular cloth I was wearing just g-string. No heels, stockings etc. I would love to do the work all dressed up, but as I mentioned yesterday – We have really cold November). The problem was, that this time the roof was really wet and slippery. At one point a was really on the verge of falling down. In that instant moment, the millisecond I thought that the doctors in the Hospital will be so excited with my sexy panties and……. It turned me on. I didn’t fall. The obvious moral of this story is….. it is so curious how the human brain works…….. Good evening Everybody.

Lacey knickers - check
That little wet look dress - check.
A new plug tail - check.
Oh no, no food for Cat this week

Good evening sweets! I'm off to work. But thought I'd leave you with a story. More: http://chrissyinsd.hotviber.com/
#crossdresser #sissy #sissyboy #crossdressers #sissies #shemale #ladyboy #femboy #femman #femboys #crossdressing #gurl #trans #transgirl #transwoman #transgender #tgirl #gay #lgbtq #nsfw #adultsonly #adultcontent

Chrissy on the Hillcrest Bus

The bus hissed as it opened its doors on University Avenue, right in the heart of Hillcrest, San Diego’s famous gay neighborhood. I climbed aboard, heart racing a little faster than usual. On the outside I was in my “boy clothes” — plain pants, a simple shirt — but underneath I was my secret self: Chrissy Marie Tunnell. Pink floral panties hugged my smooth hips, a matching bra cupped my chest, and tiny flashes of trans-colored jewelry — a ring, a dangling earring — shimmered in the afternoon light.

I wasn’t fully comfortable living openly as a girl yet, but I loved leaving little clues for anyone observant enough to notice.

As I walked down the aisle, I felt eyes on me. One man’s gaze dropped to where the pink waistband of my panties peeked above my pants. Another tilted his head just enough to catch the faint outline of my bra straps beneath the thin cotton of my shirt. My jewelry glinted when the bus jolted, and I knew they’d seen the colors.

Their eyes followed me hungrily as I slid into a seat halfway down. Even the bus driver, watching through the mirror, licked his lips and adjusted in his chair.

“Hey…” one man finally said, his voice a mix of awe and lust. “You’re Chrissy… the trans model, aren’t you?”

My cheeks burned, but I gave a shy smile. “Yes.”

A low whistle came from the back. “Damn. You should take those clothes off.”

I laughed nervously, shaking my head. “I can’t here…”

Then the driver’s voice, gravelly but warm, floated down the aisle: “It’s okay. I won’t say anything.” His eyes met mine in the mirror, daring me.

A shiver ran through me. My body trembled with a mix of nerves and arousal as I stood up slowly, the bus swaying beneath my feet. I grabbed the metal pole for balance, slipped off my shirt one button at a time, and slid my pants down my thighs. Gasps and murmurs spread as I revealed my pink bra and panties, smooth legs, and the bulge already straining with need.

“Goddamn…” someone whispered.

I posed for them, turning so they could see the curve of my ass, bending just enough to make my cheeks round and full under the thin fabric. I arched my back, running my hands down my torso, teasing myself for their eyes. The air hummed with catcalls and whistles, every sound feeding my arousal.

I felt powerful. Desired. Exposed.

The driver adjusted his mirror again, his eyes glued to me. My **** twitched inside my panties, leaking, the wet spot spreading. A chorus of moans and encouragement filled the bus as I spread my legs, cupped myself through the silky fabric, and let them watch my face flush and my chest rise and fall with each deep breath.

I was their show, their Chrissy, their secret ******* on wheels.

Chrissy’s Bus Show – The Climax
The bus swayed along the road, but I barely noticed. Every set of eyes was on me — hungry, wide, devouring. I stood in the aisle in nothing but my pink floral bra and panties, my smooth skin glistening under the fluorescent lights, my **** straining the damp satin.

“Do it, Chrissy,” someone whispered, voice husky with need.

“Yes… show us,” another begged.

The encouragement hit me like waves of heat. I hooked my thumbs under the band of my panties, tugged them tight against my bulge, and let out a trembling gasp. My **** pulsed, the wet spot spreading. The riders groaned, some openly rubbing themselves as they watched.

I spread my legs wider, arched my back, and cupped myself through the silky fabric. The friction was maddening. My hips bucked, the panties darkening with each spurt of precum.

“God, look at you,” the bus driver moaned from the mirror, his knuckles white on the wheel.

The passengers cheered me on, clapping, catcalling, shouting my name. “Chrissy! Chrissy!”

I slid one hand up my chest, over my flat stomach, to my bra — tugging at the cups, making my nipples stand hard under the lace. My other hand rubbed furiously over the soaked bulge, grinding, stroking, teasing myself to the edge.

The entire bus rocked with my moans. My thighs quivered, my lips parted, sweat dripping down my temples. I was lost in it, lost in them, lost in the rush of being seen.

Then it hit.

“Ahhh—!” My body seized, **** jerking uncontrollably as I came hard in my panties. Hot, sticky release poured out, soaking the pink fabric, running down my thighs. Gasps and cheers filled the air, some passengers clapping, others moaning with me as if they’d climaxed, too. (continued in comments below):


-Chrissy

It’s wet and windy out there so it’s the autumnal look today. Chocolate opaque tights, brown check skirt and snuggly jumper, all a few years old but I never throw any of it out. Wife was wearing the jumper the other day, always wearing my clothes!

Good morning lovely ladies, its a wet one in manchester ☔️🌧

Become wet thinking about hot ****

Good morning girls hope everyone ok and had a great weekend even though it was a bit of a wet and wild one lol

Wet Dreams XX

Morning all it’s a bit wet outside stay safe xxx

Love getting all wet in womans clothing and water boarded

I love wet❤ #bustyfox #hugeboobs #wetting #rain #outdoor #crossdressing

So wet...tasty🫦