Just had to open the door to the postie 😬, he brought me my new white blouse though!

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 😅😻

Taking a few pictures of my school girl uniform, new pink panties and short white skirt.

🙈 love the way this picture came out in black n white "had to post it" 😅

something slightly different than my previous corset pics. this was a short lacy gothic dress. I'd reverted back to a pale simple makeup for Halloween mainly white foundation with a little blusher

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 cock 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 goddess 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 cock 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 cock 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, cock 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

🌸 Between Silk and Skin: Understanding the Line Between Crossdressing and Being Transgender By Chrissy “Maybe I’m not one or the other. Maybe I’m something in between—and that’s okay.” 🧠 What’s the Difference? When people hear “crossdresser” and “transgender,” they often picture the same thing—or get the definitions confused. But these words speak to different experiences, identities, and emotional landscapes. In simple terms: Crossdresser: A person (usually male-assigned at birth) who enjoys dressing in clothing typically associated with another gender, usually for self-expression, fun, comfort, identity exploration, or even erotic reasons. This doesn’t necessarily mean they want to live as that gender full-time. Transgender: Someone whose gender identity is different from the sex they were assigned at birth. A transgender woman was assigned male at birth but identifies as a woman—and may or may not take steps to socially, medically, or legally transition. 🩷 My Journey (So Far) I’m still figuring it all out. For most of my life, I lived as a man—because that’s what the world expected. But in quiet moments, in safe spaces, I allowed my femininity to surface. At first, I called it crossdressing. I liked how I felt in soft clothes, in cute outfits, in long hair and smooth skin. It was sensual… empowering… liberating. But it wasn’t just the clothes—it was me, underneath them. I still don’t know where I fall on the spectrum. Maybe I’m a crossdresser. Maybe I’m genderfluid. Maybe I’m a transgender woman still waiting to be born. What I do know is this: I feel most alive when I’m Chrissy. I feel most whole when I’m seen. I feel most me when I stop trying to choose sides. 🫶 A Spectrum, Not a Binary Gender is not black and white—it’s fluid, rich, and deeply personal. Some crossdressers live full, happy lives identifying as men who occasionally (or frequently) express femininity. Some transgender women started out crossdressing because it was safer than admitting the truth. Others—like me—are still discovering who they are. You might ask: Am I a crossdresser or something more? What does it mean if I like being called “she” sometimes? Do I want to be a woman or just look like one? The answer might be “yes,” “no,” “sometimes,” or “I’m not sure yet.” And all of those are valid. 💬 A Note on Shame and Freedom Growing up, I repressed my feminine side. I feared being laughed at, rejected, or labeled. I used filters to feminize my face online—not to trick anyone, but because I liked how I looked. It made me feel beautiful. For now, it’s my way of being seen. One day, I’ll do the makeup. The hair. The outfit. One day, I’ll walk outside and own her. For now, I’m just beginning. If you feel the same—if you’re navigating the space between crossdressing and being trans—you are not alone. 🎀 Final Thoughts You don’t need to rush toward a label. You don’t need to transition or explain yourself to anyone. You don’t need to choose “male” or “female” like you’re checking a box. You just need to be—whatever that means, however that looks, however long it takes. You’re not broken. You’re not confused. You’re becoming. And I’m becoming right there with you. What are your thoughts? With love, — Chrissy

White lingerie for an innocent girl ( ha ha ha )

Leather and White Stockings to finish off a wonderful day. I’ve been such a naughty girl X

Dark stockings and white heels or tan stockings black heels ?

I do like a white slip - especially being lowered, exposing nylons x

Patti is an innocent sissy girl in white , don’t judge a book by it’s cover

Black and white 😉

Some black and white aesthetic for a Friday! 😍 hope you all have a lovely weekend!! 🥰😘💋

I present, androgynously, my elegant White She midi dress with a starry mesh patchwork, which is complemented by clip-on Crystal Silver Rhinestone Earrings and a CANSNOW analogue Bracelet/Wristwatch:

Is today a White or a Pink kind of day......?

Black on white.

New white heels.

Black dress and white heels kind of mood ❤️

Sexy in white

Happy in white xx

Dressing to Be Seen The Act of Being Seen Every relationship has two nervous systems in dialogue. Touch, tone, scent, gaze — and appearance. To dress for the other is not submission. It is signal. It says: I am present. I am visible. I am offering coherence to the field between us. • Neurochemical effect: anticipation (dopamine), shared pleasure (oxytocin), grounding in ritual (serotonin). • Psychological effect: amplifies self through the eyes of the beloved; creates cycles of gift and reception. • Graffiti: ⚡ Being seen is not shallow. It is sacred. ________________________________________ Archetypes of Dress in Relationship • The Siren (short dress, bold cut): calls desire into the room. Plays with chase and capture. • The Oracle (flowing gowns, layers, veils): slows time, creating atmosphere of reverence. • The Trickster (unexpected combinations, clashing patterns, gender-bent outfits): destabilises expectation, awakens novelty. • The Sovereign (tailored lines, strong shoes, grounded presence): communicates stability, clarity, power. 𓂀 To choose consciously is to decide what archetype you invite into the space between you. ________________________________________ Ritual of the Mirror The mirror is not for correction. The mirror is the first witness. • Stand. Dress slowly. Watch yourself enter the role. • Observe not flaws, but signals: Does this dress invite softness? Does this jacket sharpen presence? • Let the mirror witness the archetype you are summoning before your partner ever sees it. Graffiti: 🩸 The mirror is the first lover. ________________________________________ The Exchange of Gaze When you arrive dressed — whether in thigh-highs or a plain white T-shirt — the real act is the exchange of gaze. • To be looked at with reverence releases oxytocin, lowering defences. • To be looked at with hunger ignites dopamine, sharpening attention. • To be looked at with ridicule collapses trust, burning cortisol into the archive. The choice of dress sets the conditions for which gaze is invited. ________________________________________ The Triad of Relationship Dress 1. Signal to Self — what energy am I summoning in my own nervous system? 2. Signal to Beloved — what state do I invite in theirs? 3. Signal to Field — what story does our shared appearance tell to the world? ________________________________________ Final Reflection Dressing to be seen is not frivolous. It is infrastructure. It is how nervous systems negotiate attraction, trust, play, and belonging. 🌱 To ignore it is to surrender the field to default. ⚡ To wield it consciously is to turn clothing into compass. 🩸 To be seen is to be alive.

OK - white tennis skirt - i do have one somewhere - but - here is one of my white tennis dresses. Enjoy and comment please. If you like i have several more of this dress i can post.💞

Virgin white 😈

When i wear li ke this black stocking under white pantyhose and i go out men goes crazy looking ♥️

Just wearing my nice white GogoBoots this weekend 😋

I am posting this here as a challenge to myself. It's only been lately I embraced my liking of crossdressing. Previously I had the body for it but not the clarity of mind. After COVID, I had gained an unhealthy amount of weight and now the clothes that I want to look good wearing don't look too good. Gave this white number a try and well, you see the results. Granted, a corset does wonders but I want to be able to wear skimpier, more effeminate things outside of a corset. So, I am marking the date this photo was taken: August 22 and marking the progress I get from here on out, help me stay motivated to keep working towards that target 65 kg. weight. I think at least most of the body is well shaped, but that waist, oof. Guess I should call this outfit the fertility goddess. Haha Either way, hope people who peep this photo can stand a less than optimal build for crossdressing. It is an in-between bod for now and I am working on, improving and getting it to where it should look great.

#white #Lingerie #sexy #blonde

Back to white heels ❤️

White nails💅 #sissy #nylon #crossdressser #transgender #feminization #bas #collant #pantyhose #stocking #pied #feet #lingerie #maletofemale #sexy #fantasme #lgbt #porn #soumission #bdsm #hosiery #trough #ladyboy #gartbelt #nails💅 #tits #boob #cock

Change to white shoes, looks ok but maybe the tights are my issue.

Good afternoon girls 😘White tights in the Buckinghamshire woods today 😈☺️I leave it to your imagination as to the outcome 💦💦💦

White feet nails and jewelry 📿 #sissy #nylon #crossdressser #transgender #feminization #bas #collant #pantyhose #stocking #pied #feet #lingerie #maletofemale #sexy #fantasme #lgbt #porn #soumission #bdsm #hosiery #trough #ladyboy #gartbelt #nails💅 #tits #boob #cock

Black & White. I do love creating images with B&W in mind. The composition, curves defined by contrast, and of course the tonal range. 😍💋💋

I love my sexy white short dress.

You can see my white label🌡️ #sissy #nylon #crossdressser #transgender #feminization #bas #collant #pantyhose #stocking #pied #feet #lingerie #maletofemale #sexy #fantasme #lgbt

Flashing my white knickers!

My white heels

Why not in white? Today To meet Girlfriend... And orange Lipstick Scarf Beret White Mood White Dreams Of wedding Dress ... No veil Still Just to Confess...

Joanne's kinky night on the golf course. Joanne (48, a librarian by day, a siren of the twilight by night) adjusted the black lace bra & panties set and stockings, its delicate fabric a stark contrast to the rough texture of the damp grass beneath her bare feet & slipped on her black heels. The golf course, usually a scene of quiet precision, was her personal stage tonight. A setting sun cast long, skeletal shadows, transforming the manicured greens into an ethereal landscape. Tonight’s performance featured a selection of rather… large props nestled in her oversized handbag: a collection of vibrant, sculpted silicone anal toys, each promising a different kind of ecstatic violation of her arse. Her camera & tripod, a trusty Canon EOS, hung from her shoulder, ready to capture the all the moments of her self-expression, her daring exhibitionism & dizzy hights of pleasure under the watchful gaze of the setting sun. She hoped, with a thrill that sent a shiver down her spine, that someone, some stranger, would stumble upon her, witness her transgressive ritual. Suddenly, a flicker of movement in the periphery – a woman, stood silently among the shifting light and shadows, motionless all but a slight movement under her top, was she caressing her breast, Joanne couldn’t quite see through the lengthening shadows cast by the warm light now fading sun, she walked silently towards her, her eyes transfixed upon Joannes hand, now clutching a black 18 inch silicone dildo, dripping with lube, with an unnerving glance and a very slight but nervous smile, she said nothing, her hand was on her breast squeezing it quite intensely. Joanne, momentarily startled, didn't scream or run. Instead, a perverse curiosity overcame her fear. This was unexpected, far beyond her usual nocturnal escapades, but something she had fantasised about for many years. The woman approached, gazing at her discarded panties laying on the grass, then curiously picked them up & inspecting them, “nice” she softly said, “ don’t mind me, I’m happy to see what you intend doing with your toys” Joanne tried to talk, but her mouth was dry with fear and she trembled with anticipation of what this evening may become, one of the anal toys she had not long before putt in her arse was slipping, she could feel the lube running down her leg, then it did, it dropped from her & their it laid out on the dew-kissed grass! OMG, I’m so embarrassed Joanne squeaked like a fool, the woman smiled as she gazed upon the size of the slippery escapee, the woman took a few more steps towards Joanne, she was just inches from her trembling body, she could smell her musk perfume hanging in the air, she wasn’t young, perhaps in her early fifties with dark but dies hair, pale skin and piercing blue eyes “turn around” she spoke in soft Irish accent that was calming and sweet. Joanne obliged and turned her back to her, she felt the woman’s hand upon hers slowly taking the long black snakelike toy from Joanne’s hand, with a gentleness Joanne hadn’t felt since being in the company of her mother she felt a hand gently caress her back and ever so gently pushed her into a bent over position, in that moment she felt she was in the most amazing place had ever known, to her amaze the woman slowly pushed the toy into her arse, not working it in and out but with one long slow determine push, it slid all the way into her arse. With the lady now leaning into Joannes back, her perfume intense in Joanne’s nose it was almost like a drug, sending her into a heavenly blissful trance. The woman took her other hand reached around to grasp Joannes cock, it was so cool, soft and gentil, almost childlike, slowly teasing her fingers over the tip, playing with a small drop of precum that she found dripping from the head, this seemed to go on for a eternity, slowly increasing the rhythm and grip, Joanne could feel her pleasure building as her shaft grew harder and harder, she slipped one hand behind her and found the top of the woman’s shorts and panty line, slowly she slid her hand down to the woman’s neatly shaved vulva, but just at that brief moment of contact Joanne burst bout a great grown and stood shaking all over from head to foot, her hot moist seamen flowed from her the woman’s grasp, falling to the floor and landing on Joannes discarded panties. Feeling a little faint, Joanne fell to her stocking clan knees, then to her hands, panting like a hot hound and quivering like a leaf on a tree she couldn’t believe what had just happened, composing herself she turned to face the mystery woman, she had gone, as silently as she had appeared, the sing that she had ever been present was a small white flower laying next to Joanne’s now spoilt panties.

Been a while but then nothing is black and white in life!

Getting out of the car last night when i arrived for the munch-in-a-pub, having changed in the car (don't ask...) i didn't realise my dress had tucked itself into my thong at the back... Fella in a white van (omg, bad omen!) pulled up along side me, could i spare a minute??? Uh-oh.... "I couldn't help noticing your stockings and suspenders - i think you're very brave, i only wear mine at home!" Chatted for about 10 mins, let him know where i got the SIlicone Twins as he was Very Impressed, let him know it's not so scary going out and about dressed, but it is really liberating! And on to the pub, nice folks and passable drinks (alcohol free, dammit!)

Got a white dress

Today i have tried these purple suspenders stockings on my white new pantyhose.

Black pantyhose 40 den and on top white stockings.

A little bit of black and white relaxation after a walk near hotel …..back in my room that has a big French window…..going to turn the lights off and pull the curtains open and put on a show just like an Amsterdam girl 😈xx

Someone want me to share my pantyhose...i will send them to you. My new white 20 dan pantyhose.