Transgender fiction i love bad boy to girl
I was falling for my worst enemy. I’d have thought the transformation into a woman would have
been the strangest thing that ever happened to me. But sitting across from him at our private
dining table, laughing at his jokes, and staring into his baby blue eyes, all that bottled hatred
of the years was slowly flowing away. I couldn’t help but just feel he was so sweet and so
hardworking and so perfect. When he asked to see me again Ijumped at the chance, even
though the evening was far from over.
Femulate Her or Her?
The Femulate Her spot in this blog features nicely clad women, typically, models wearing the latest styles.
The women I choose for the Femulate Her spot are women I want to femulate and I imagine, you readers would like to femulate some of these women, too.
There is one problem with my selections; there is a big disconnect regarding age... about 40 years!
Most of the models are probably in their 20s and are modeling clothing appropriate for young women. I am in my 60s and my guess is that many of this blog’ readers are right up their with me age-wise. As a result, we can dream about femulating the young models that I choose for the Femulate Her spot, but the reality is that such femulations are beyond our reach.
After publishing Friday’s post, My Future, I mulled over what I wrote and realized that my so-called future may be now! Instead of femulating a young model from Bebe or somesuch, I should femulate women who are more mature.
What a concept!
Wearing Madeleine. |
Marcin Rogacewicz femulates Halina Frackowiak on Polish television's Twoja Twarz Brzm Znajom. |
Which Panty is Right For You (Male to Female Transgender / Crossdressing Tips)
Crossdressing fiction one of the t-girls
Inst a pill. inst a pill and then I’ll be a woman? I never knew it could be that easy. Should it be that
easy? Should it be that easy to change your entire person, your entire life. in a matter of seconds?
The pills themselves were a work in progress. and the company marketing them had a contract as
thick as a phone book for me to sign. and the litany of risks that catne with any procedure like that
was enough to make tny head spin. I wasn’t even sure if that was what I wanted. or if I was maybe
going too far looking for somewhere to belong. I still hadn’t tried chess club yet, leaping into anoth-
er body. potentially dangerously, definitely permanently. was a huge decision for an eighteen year
old to make. That was what tnade it so surprising when I felt the slight resistance of pen on paper,
and then the flourish of a signature. My life. signed away. but my soul. hopefully free.