1. How Easy It Is.


    Date: 9/16/2015, Categories: Crossdressing, Author: thatfemininUrge, Rating: 2, Source: LushStories

    and that I was perceived as being a woman, made me come to believe in every motion and gesture that I was a woman. I drove back to my house feeling giddy with delight. I wanted and needed more. This day would allow me to fulfill it. I was so excited, physically, emotionally and sexually that I had to captivate upon it. I could not just go home and ignore the flushing heat that ran through my mind and body. It could not be ignored but needed to be acted upon. The seven mile ride seem to be endless as I drove to my house to decide on what it was I was about to do. Looking back upon this night was in a sense the most fulfilling episode of my life as a crossdresser. There are two reasons why. I won’t tell you. That would be too simple. Within the confines of this text you will understand, and discover those two reasons. I will not shy away from it. If you ask or think you know the why of it, I will answer. When I finally got home, elevated to a new high of being treated and seen as a woman, I naturally went upstairs to prepare myself. I was so excited that it seemed as though my t leaped from my chest. I was panting as I opened the door to my house. I had to sit down. I could feel a charge racing through my spine. I had to catch my breath. I poured myself a neat Irish whiskey. I relaxed. I need to compose myself. As I sipped on the whiskey, my body relaxed, but my mind raced with comet like energy. I need, and wanted more. I was scared but the impulse to be seen, accepted, ...
    looked at, appreciated in being a woman was as explosive as an atomic reaction. I was left with no choice other than to squash it. The only problem was that to squash it, I realized was to become a hot, sexual feminine girl. The only impulse that raced within me was that I was a sexy woman. I rationalized it in that that was how men perceived me. I had succeeded beyond my wildest fantasies that I was looked at, taken in by the visual human male as being nothing more than feminine. The question that remained within my own psyche was, was that true. The truth and fact is there was only on way to know. As I calmed myself down, I came to realize that. I had to act. And, so I went upstairs. I looked at myself in the mirror. The image that reflected back at me was that of a question. What was it that I was prepared to do? I knew as that reflection peered back at me that once I crossed that threshold there was no turning back. I glared at that reflection that stared at me. What would I do? What should I do? What would you do? The problem was that as I studied my reflection is that I saw a cute, busty woman. That is what shown back at me. After what seemed like hours, I had made my decision. I kicked off my black boots. I wiggled out of my skirt. I tossed my top aside. I then put on a pair of tight, very tight girlish jeans. The kind that hug the hips and only can be taken as being a girl pair of jean. I changed my bra. I put on a bra that gave the most minimal support. I put on my ...
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