Those unexpected femm moments that make you tingle
Sissy gurls want to be femme, they crave it. They ache to move like a woman, dress like a woman, make love like a woman. But let’s have a real talk, princess. What about those other moments? You know, the ones that aren’t all about cock, cum, and squealing on your knees? I know, gasps and dramatic pearl clutching, much to the shock and surprise of every single sissy gurl I’ve ever giggled with… women are not constantly thinking about sex, cock, or cumming!
giggles and rolls eyes dramatically
I know, I know. Somewhere out there, a sissy just shrieked, “But if I were a girl, I’d have sex all the time!” Yes baby, we’ve heard it, and yes, I am so rolling my eyes right now.
You precious little sluts really think you’d just be bent over 24/7, moaning like a porn star with mascara tears dripping down your cheeks. Don’t lie. You love that image.
And let’s be honest, the feeling of being full, his cock throbbing inside you, hot sticky cum pumping into your little hole, it’s absolutely divine. We all know it. Even thinking about that monster between his legs, imagining how it stretches your sweet little pussy, or picturing how her juicy little clit might taste… mmm I’m blushing just typing this… and licking my lips. (giggle)
And don’t get me started on blowjobs, yes. That beautiful,
submissive, worshipful act of surrender. Every gurl says, “But I’m not
gay!” and yet every. single. one. of you has fantasized about being
that gurl on her knees, tears down your face, gagging around a fat,
delicious cock while he holds your head in place and moans. Don’t you
dare deny it.
Moment 1: The Unexpected Interest Flirt
One of my all-time fave moments and one every sissy gurl can not only experience but help their wife experience, even if you’re not dolled up in heels and gloss is the unexpected flirt. She’s out filling the car, looking cute in leggings, or maybe a dress that hugs her hips just right, and some guy next to her can’t stop staring. His eyes undress her, drink her in and she feels it.
That little sway in her hips? That subtle flip of her hair? That smirk on her lips? It’s not for him, darling it’s because she knows she’s desired. That little tingle? Exhilarating.
As a sissy gurl husband, when your wife gets back into the car, you say: “Babe, that guy was so into you. I could see him undressing you with his eyes. You're so fucking stunning.” And then you thank her. For letting you serve her. For being your dream. For letting you live in her beautiful shadow.
If clothes make the man, they give women superpowers. Every woman knows the deliciousness of sliding into luxury lingerie, lace, garters, corsets, silk that clings to your curves. But this isn’t about your fave “sissy outfit,” sweetie. This is about the rare, surprising spark that comes when the right fabric kisses the right place.
It’s that moment when the suspender strap snaps just right on your thigh, or your silk thong rubs your clit as you shift. Ooooh yes, those moments. The ones you didn’t expect, but suddenly… mmm… you're squirming.
Moment 3: Clothes That Feel Just So, Part Deux
Have you ever slipped into jeans and thought, damn, look at my ass in these? Or pulled on a clingy dress and thought, whoa, I am hot. That’s what this moment is all about, you, your body, your sensual power. It’s not about being fucked, it’s about wanting yourself. It’s pure feminine indulgence. And baby, it's hot.
And oh, don’t even get me started on lace bras that let your nipples poke out juuust enough to brush against your blouse, teasing you all day long. Or the tension of stockings tugging at your garter belt with every step. Yum.
Moment 4: Catching a Glimpse of Your BFF’s Knickers
You know you shouldn’t. I mean, you’ve slept in the same bed, swapped secrets, shared makeup and tips on giving the perfect blowjob, but every once in a while, you catch that glimpse. The curve of her ass as she bends over. The flash of lace panties under her skirt. Maybe even a peek at her cleavage as she giggles and leans in…
You don’t say anything. You don’t have to. But your breath catches. Your clit twitches. You feel that wicked, sweet little rush up your spine, and your mind races. What if…?
Moment 5: The Thong Epiphany — My First True Lesbian Awakening
It wasn’t just sex. It wasn’t even just her touch.
It was her thong, she wanted me to wear it. Pink lace. I hadn’t even worn a thong before, not properly, not to feel sexy.
She was older. Confident. Not masculine, not hard, but in charge. Like she knew what to do with a body. My body. I slipped into her thong in front of her. The tight fabric sliding up between my cheeks, tugging across my soft little front. But when I turned and saw her watching me, licking her lips, biting her thumb?
I felt like prey.
She walked over and ran her fingers up my thighs, slowly, like she was teasing herself more than me. Then she hooked a single finger under the thin pink band of that thong and pulled—hard—making it snap tight across my clit.
I gasped. No, I whimpered.
"Sensitive little thing, aren’t you?" she whispered.
And I swear, my whole body melted. That gentle, unbearable stretch of the thong between my lips, tugging my folds apart, that perfect pressure right on my aching clit, and then the threat of it sliding into my ass…
She pulled it again—harder this time—sliding it side to side so the lace rasped across my clit like fire. I moaned. Couldn’t help it. My thighs shook. And she just smiled like a witch with a new spell.
I have worn thongs ever since.
Moment 6: The Fantasy Crotch Spiral, When a Glance Becomes a Spiral into Slutdom
You weren’t trying to be naughty. Not really. It was a normal moment—standing in line, maybe waiting for coffee, or walking past some guy on the street. Totally casual. Innocent. You’re dressed cute. Not trying to be that girl today. Just feeling soft, femme, maybe a little flirty.
And then you see it.
His crotch.
No motion, no erection, nothing even particularly obscene. Just the soft outline of something beneath his pants. Could be jeans, joggers, a suit. Doesn't matter. Something about it grabs you. Your brain stutters. Your breath catches. Your thighs squeeze—why?
You do nothing. You don’t stare. You don’t touch. But oh, babe… your mind? Your mind is already on its knees.
The imagination is instant, savage, impossible to stop. Your brain paints the shape for you: longer than should be legal. Thicker than a can of Coke. You imagine it hot and heavy, pulsing, already leaking. It’s fake, absurd, totally made up—but it feels real. Your knickers dampen as your imagination runs wild like the good little sissy slut you are.
And in your mind’s eye? You're already there.
On the floor.
Hands behind your back.
Lips stretched.
Throat burning.
Mascara running.
Your mouth stuffed with that cock your own slutty mind invented.
And the shame of it hits you mid-fantasy. You're blushing. Physically blushing. Your cheeks go hot. Your skin tingles. You shift your weight and hope no one sees the flush creeping up your chest.
All from a glance.
You haven’t even touched him.
He doesn’t even know.
And you’ve just given yourself over completely to a dick that doesn’t even exist.
That is the feminine mind at its filthiest, most fabulous, most dangerously turned-on. That’s what makes a gurl different. Not just what’s between your legs, but what happens behind your eyes.
You didn’t do anything, darling.
But in your mind… you did everything.
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