Open letter to transvestites

Open letter to transvestites

I carry out a commercial activity which requires me to spend many nights in hotels in the capital.
These stays allow me to fully explore my part of femininity alone or accompanied.

My wife doesn't want to see me wear lingerie, so I also invent weekend seminars to be able to experience these special moments.

Arriving in my hotel room, I quickly undress to coat my body with depilatory cream, rinsing off in the shower a few minutes later.
Coming out of the bathroom, I can't resist the urge to caress my soft and smooth purses after hair removal.

Facing the wall mirror, I lie down on my bed, spreading my thighs to hunt down the last hairs with my razor.
My gaze falls on my rosette which has lost its star shape during my many years of sodomy.
I now have a beautiful pussy split and lined with anal lips as thick as those of a vagina which make me feel more like a woman.
Then, I get up to put on my glamorous underwear in front of the mirror, adjust my wig, put on my false eyelashes and place my silicone breasts in the D cups of my red balconette bra.
I also wear a waist cincher of the same color for its elegance but also to prevent it from slipping on my hips as is often the case with suspender belts.
Plus, it keeps the seams of my luxurious cervin stockings straight while showing off my long legs.

I then take a few steps into the bedroom to feel the exciting tension of the nylon on my thighs and hear the squeak of my stockings.
Having put on a lovely satin nightie, I increase my desire by striking suggestive poses in front of the mirror.
Perched on my stiletto heels, my gaze falls on my penis locked in its inverted chastity cage and on my purses stretched by my ballstretcher.

By suppressing any erection, my cage allows me to be more focused on my pussy.
The weight of my ballstretcher gives me pleasant sensations of heaviness between my thighs.
I move my hips in front of the mirror, making circles to amplify the tension on my balls.