I suppose that, currently, I find myself on a reluctant but reflective path at the moment.
Not a week goes by when I don’t give some thought to the act of crossdressing, not a week goes by when I don’t reminisce or am reminded about crossdressing and not a week goes by when I don’t pass the same home and hardware store, sometimes even going in for some basics and reminding myself that I know where those lacy top black stockings are displayed – not that I ever allow myself to take even a merest of glances at the boxes on display – even though I know exactly what they look like.
This month, it is a total of seven months since I last crossdressed. This has provided the strongest element of encouragement in keeping me on track, although I have wondered whether I will, one day, somehow, get to a point where I don’t really care how long it might have been and merely take to crossdressing again and to hell with it.
I guess it must have happened before when I stopped crossdressing under the most serious of consequences – i.e. being caught yet still being safely encapsulated in the same life that I had – and as I’ve said before – the reasons for that will forever remain locked solely in my mind.
However, I have found myself searching for some kind of consolation by going on line on my webcam, hirsutedness emanating from every pixel once more, but is there any women’s lingerie on display? No. I have however been wearing skimpy see-through or white g-strings – my usual attire – the boxer shorts having been binned years ago for a number of reasons.
Does the webcam presence satisfy me? In the long-run, no. I know that there will be little interest – I’m no oil painting or male model but there’s a curious sexual deviant still hiding away, just not as deviant as to be dressed in stockings, suspenders, a g-string and a cami-suspender, spider basque or bra.
A look at the home screen for my site of preference sees an array of persons exhibiting themselves and those that merely put themselves on camera fully clothed, looking for some sort of titilation, stimulation or perhaps companionship.
Those who stop by my webcam – men it has to be said, enter into conversation about the mini-gallery of pics I have posted up in one of my favourites from the wife’s unused selection and my Avatar shot widely used.
I was asked the other day whether I could go and dress up or whether certain things were to hand, but merely answered that things weren’t to hand – a cowardly answer – rather that answering as I had done before – that it had been a while since I had crossdressed or that I had actually not done so for some time.
The merest hint that I was a crossdresser seemed enough to maintain the conversation for both me and the voyeur watching. There were requests for some more exhibitionism but things came to an abrupt end at the other end when the voyeur either found some other interest or had to terminate their online session quickly.
As said above, the webcam presence doesn’t satisfy me, yet I have still put myself online on two separate occasions this week. I do so knowing that there will be little happening, little interest, yet I sit hoping for something, admitting that I enjoy being on cam irrespective of who is watching.
One individual asked whether I was sure I was straight. Yes I said – I have had experiences which have assured me of that, although I have previously mused on this blog and even above that I have curious and deviant tendencies. I play along with conversation when some viewers suggest what they’d like to do to me given the chance, allowing myself to immerse myself into the world of fantasy. One individual asked to follow up a cam session with a meet which I don’t and won’t do. I admitted to being something of a cam-slut – at least that’s the best term I’ve been able to come up with of late.
This week though, whilst any viewer, displayed or not displayed is thrilling (and I’ll admit to viewing their profile on each occasion just to fill in the proverbial blanks), the fact that there is little interaction and certainly no female viewers, reminds me of two things.
1) There was a lot more interest when I was crossdressed.
2) I really shouldn’t be wasting my time when I could be doing something else or getting somewhere else.
Yet still, I will probably exhibit myself on-line again, dressed merely in one of my men’s g-strings, probably the skimpier, more see through or whiter the better, flesh on display in abundance, little left to the imagination, finding myself apologising for the extent of hair growth and openly declaring that I’m due to go through a full body wax again soon.
However, although I dislike it, my hirsutedness doesn’t seem to bother folk who drop into my cam session. Whilst being hair-free is my preference, it is no longer as a pretense to crossdressing – I quite simply long to be hair free – I do not like seeing my body with a swarming mass of hair going in all directions – which it does.
Which brings me on to something that was suggested to me by the person who does my body wax. They suggested that being completely smooth was not giving out the right message and it would be far better for me to be partially waxed but with a maintained, clippered chest. I kindly rebuffed this suggestion, stating that I preferred to be, and wished to be hair free, citing, quite truthfully, that it was cooler and more comfortable too.
Whilst my history of crossdressing has never been discussed, I have wondered whether the person doing the waxing is drawing their own, possibly quite correct conclusions. I suppose were they to stumble across my blog, they might well put two and two together and realise that it is their client behind the postings. I have no doubt though that professionalism will remain, nothing would be discussed to confirm the connection, and the service I seek will continue to be offered. I suppose that the fact that I might be wondering if they know that I think that they are thinking that I might have had other reasons for a full body wax adds an extra exciting frisson to the waxing session.
This morning, I contemplated another cam session. I contemplated getting off to work relatively early but having come up with the title for this blog entry in my mind in the last few days but having forgotten it again and agonised over what it was to have then discovered it again led me to log in and at least enter the title in a working draft.
Only rather than get off to work, go on cam or busy myself with something else, I’ve merely done what I might impulsively do in any instance. I have to attend to it. The fingers started working and 1180 odd words later…
Oddly, the type of browsing on line has also changed of late. I’ve taken a dislike to things that I’d previously been very interested in and sought something that may be described as ‘run of the mill’.
No crossdressing…but thoughts of it, and, with the readiness of a log in and a web cam, of late, a slight deviation…there will probably be another, albeit likely wholly futile appearance shortly that will still make me wonder why I’m doing it whilst it happens – yet I’ll still do it. Work that one out.