Lacy HNT 2

Patrick Hates My Crossdressing

I guess he's is not into queens. They turn him off the same way women do. So it stands to reason that he's not so into my crossdressing stuff. He's not into the skirts or dresses, heels or hose. The idea of me wearing my lacy top around his house just turns him off, he says. In a way it's kind of weird because I just want to feel natural around him, and a lot of times I just want to be nude or wear women's clothes because, well, that's what feels natural. It's only about comfort, so I find it pretty interesting that he doesn't want me to wear my girlie shit around him.

Maybe it makes him uncomfortable, I don't know. Maybe he's so gay that anything feminine turns him off on a fundamental level. When I asked him about it, he said that he was attracted to men, not women. He told me about another closeted bisexual lover who also likes that stuff, but that as for himself the women's shit just doesn't do it for him. [Note to self: gotta meet this other guy he's talking about!]

What's really interesting about it for me is the way it illustrates different people's arousal triggers. For him the arousal comes from the sexuality of masculinity. Whereas I think for me the arousal comes, perhaps, from the fantasy of being a woman. The clothes give me the experience of what women get to wear, while I get to role-play their gender and fantasize about having a straight women's sexuality. And get fucked by some handsome and manly guy.

This dynamic that I have with Patrick is really bringing up some deep introspection. What is the basis of my attraction to men? Is it physical or fantasy? A combination of both? Or do I simply have a fascination with being perverted - that I need to continually up the ante to get off? Is this gay experience authentic or is it just my attempts to raise my sexual bet: "I'll call your crossdressing, and raise with a blowjob and fuck in the ass."

I understand how men dressing up in women's clothes could turn off a gay guy. The same way I understood when one of my past girlfriends couldn't stop laughing any time I wore women's clothes. She just thought it was funny, not sexy. I have had girlfriends and lovers who thought it was really hot, though most of the time I've kept very private about my panty thievery, cock ring hobby, heel fetish, and other unmentionables.

Ass HNT

Me and my new favorite skirt.

Lacy HNT

Ultimate Christmas Wishlist

I just blew my Christmas money on Amazon and I'm pretty psyched. I have a private wish list full of crossdressing stuff and I ordered a bunch of items that I've been wanting for a while. I doubt I'll wear this stuff out in public anytime soon, but a lot of the time I'm hanging out at home I just have this urge to wear dresses and girlie shit.

So I just got a razorback dress and a pleated skirt. I got lacetop stockings and crotchless panties. I ordered a pair of 5" mary janes and ruffle anklet socks. I got a waist cincher and a cupless corset. Vinyl gloves and a leather collar.

Hell yeah. Watch out for some HNT action in my new stuff, everyone.

HNT X-Dress

Pussy Envy

Aside from the fact that women control sex, I am jealous of women in many ways. Which is funny, because female friends of mine have said they are jealous of men. The grass is always greener I guess.

Women have curvy hips, framed by soft mammagraphic teardrop breasts of incredible beauty, nipples, neckbones, shoulders. Smaller, less muscular features than men, pretty hands, small feet, sexy knees and elbows. Moreover, women get to have a pussy, a way more complex sex organ than a penis, much less erratic and prone to malfunction, one that could likely keep up with my superfluous sex drive throughout the day.

Women’s bodies are capable of comparatively extreme sensuality, the body interconnected to and fine-tuned with the clitoris, which provides much more intense pleasure than a cock does for a man, and functions for longer than any man can hope to last and yet still be able to cum.

The pussy offers a virtual yacht of ecstasy compared to the drag-race cock: pussy provides a luxurious cruise, good for hours of foreplay and sex, whereas the cock burns all it's fuel in one shot, blows it's engine in a quarter mile and has to be restarted for the next race.

I’m jealous to get fucked in the pussy, to be filled up, to have that superior organ be able to engulf and consume the powerful phallus.

I wish I could be a female stripper, a fantasy I can never fulfill. Even with extensive, irreversible sex-change surgery, medical miracles simply cannot recreate the natural beauty of a woman’s body.

Before I came out to myself, I couldn’t admit that I was jealous that women get to suck cock. Now I’m more comfortable with myself, so that is one thing I can see what it is like, but certainly not from a woman’s perspective.

I’m jealous of Victoria’s Secret, lingerie, sexy dresses and skirts, and having the curves to fill them out! Jealous of makeup and glamour and heels and getting to wear all that in public. Some might say whatever, you can go out in heels if you want, but that's not the whole point - I want to be able to go out in heels as a woman -- without a cock -- to feel that lifting of my hips and curve of my back and the tilting forward and up of my pelvis, turning my non-existent pussy outward. I will never feel that, and that is the root of my jealously of women.

They're so fucking sexy, have so many different outfits and sexy things to wear. The hips, waist, cleavage… the pussy - KAPOW!!! Sha-bam! I've been jealous to have all that since my earliest memories. Even when I was a small boy I noticed how curvy girls’ lower backs and asses were, and I was jealous that I wasn't shaped that way. I had pussy envy.

Give Me A Passable Tranny

I'd love to have a passable tranny girlfriend. For an in-the-closet bisexual, that'd be an ideal situation. Introduce her to all my homophobic straight friends, kiss her in front of them, all the while only she and I know that she's got a dick under her skirt. Some of my friends might even lust after her if she was pretty enough, now that'd be funny. Poetic justice.

I've heard some supposedly straight guys say they'd sleep with a tranny. So basically they wouldn't kick a dick out of bed, as long as the person attached didn't look like a man. Weird. I have a feeling that's just an extension of the social stigma placed on men against bisexuality. Female bisexuality somehow seems to be more accepted in our society. Again, I think this is just a subconscious form of homophobia.

I've heard countless homophobic guys say something like, "I'm not against gay men, I just think what they do is gross." Yet in the same breath they'll say how hot is is for two women to be together, or that they like girl-on-girl porn. Talk about a double standard! Pass judgment on two men as gross, but then to like the idea of two women together. I would consider that to be a homophobic projection of one's own insecurities. But who am I to judge?! ;)

So give me a hot ass glamorous tranny girlfriend with the curves of a woman, yet she's all man between the legs. Now that's hot.

Early Gay Crushes, Barbies, Leotards

When I was five, I had an overwhelming desire to play with Barbies. I can remember one such case where I was with my family at a grown up party, and the all kids had been let loose in the house to play on their own. The boy who lived there had an older sister, and I went to her room to see if her and her friends had any Barbies, and asked if I could play with them, they laughed and said, "boys don't play with Barbies." I never asked to play with Barbies again.

When I was around the same age, I wanted to wear a leotard, like the ones girls wear in gymnastics. So I asked my mom, and she got me a black one with white tights, and a green one with yellow tights. We would make the green and yellow one into a Robin costume with a red belt, yellow cape and yellow ® on the chest. The black leotard was for my own superhero. I can remember even at that young age getting boners in those leotards. I felt ashamed that girls clothes made my little PP hard.

I was a shy and reserved kid, always afraid of sexual curiosity. I chickened out when it came my turn to strip after an older girl and I had made a deal. I couldn't get the courage to make my "two minutes in the closet" a worthwhile event. I was a repressed kid, crippled by my own fears and confusion about intimacy and attraction.

Only a year ago I figured out and admitted to myself that I am bisexual. I wonder how my life would have been different had I the courage to accept my childhood TV crushes on Ponch, BJ McKay, and the Karate Kid. If I had the support of family and community that bisexuality was as beautiful as any part of me, if those feelings weren't repressed for all these years, how would I be different?

I'm still in the closet. I've only told a few people, and one of them I don't even trust anymore. I'm living a virtually celibate life of secret desires and lonely desperation, still too afraid to reach out and act on these indelible urges.

My Cock Ring Fetish

Confession: I love to build, wear, and photograph my own leather cockrings.

I buy common styles from porn shops and then alter them into custom cockwear.



Sometimes I see how many I can wear all at once.



I love to get my cock all dressed up in one of my leather pieces, pull on stockings, high heels, and my leather fringe CBT belt, and prance around the house with my rock-hard erection sticking out into the hallways and rooms as I strut around.



The sound and feel of the high heels on my concrete floor engorges my cock even more, sometimes turning purple under the tight fit of my cockrings.