Archive-name: Changes/dressup.txt
Archive-author: 
Archive-title: Dressed Up


I'm dressed like a sweet young babe and loving every minute of it.
All the attention. All those people buying things for me, taking me out,
taking me as their girl friend everywhere, escorted. If only those men
knew what the ladies knew about me. Yes, the ladies.  They just love
having a girl friend to shop with, to chat with, to go to clubs with.
But once we leave the men outside, they can't wait to dress me in
lingerie, and play with me like a big cute doll, before dragging me
off to bed and further intimacies.  Because, under all the satin,
belied by all my curves and voluptuous figure, is maleness, a hard,
satisfying cock that drives them wild.

Oh, you must be saying, a fag!
No, not at all.
Gayness isn't what I'm about at all.

I don't date men.
I much prefer women.
I love the scent of women, lingering in the air around them.
I love the sound of women, the rustling of silks and satins gliding over skin.
I love the colors of women, all that's beautiful in nature adorning their curves.
I love the look of women especially blondes, as light sparkles along their hair.
I love women so much that I enjoy imitating them, copying the look of women
that I see and appreciate. Sometimes I see a woman who is so striking, I get
captured by their appearance and try to copy their outfit, their hairstyle,
even the make-up shades they choose!

Its so hard to be moral about it. I can look so good sometimes, I want to
go out and show-off, to get approval, to catch an appreciative eye.  But,
what I do isn't accepted, isn't "right", and can be downright dangerous
if some poor guy pushes himself on me and won't take NO for an answer.
So, for his sake and mine. I dress at home..

......................to  be continued...

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