Cross Dressing Friends Are The Sweetest.

Cross Dressing Friend Hates Boy Clothes

 

So I have this pretty cute friend. His parents are both beautiful, and he grew up in the world of luxury. Everything he wanted. He came to me one day telling me how much he admired my skin, makeup, and long hair. He admired my clothes and dug into my closet whenever he was there. I realized I had a cross-dressing friend who would seem fun, especially since he was my exact size. He was tiny. His body was tight his bubble butt was so cute, just like mine.

Every time my cross-dressing friend came over, he first raided my closet and asked if I’d gotten anything new where I’d been shopping and what designers I was wearing. What was really in the fashion? He loves to go to the makeup counter with me and have them complete his face transitions from ordinary people to glam-up superstars with full makeup.

Cross dressing friend loves pink

Pink, of course, was his favorite color. My cross-dressing friend would rush for my panty drawer and pull out the softest pinkish color. He quickly peeled out of his disgusting boy clothes. That’s what he’d call them with a face of pure disgust. He’d slip out of them, then he grabbed a pair of my most lacy and silky panties. My cross-dressing friend would slide them on.  I sit in front of the mirror and watch as he slides the Pretty Pink Panties on and my earrings himself.  He does this slowly as to let the silky smooth fabric touch every part of his leg. He moves it upward until it covers up his little clitty.  It was naturally small, so it tucked into the panties.

Well, I could barely tell it was there. He presses his thighs tightly together, suppressing it even more, hiding it and making sure the string in the ass is tight. He turned around in the mirror and bent over slightly to admire his bussy.  His bussy would peekaboo around the outside of the thong. Something about it made him giggle, almost squeal like a happy girl.  Then my cross-dressing friend would admire himself and walk back and forth in front of my mirror like he was on a catwalk before retrieving a matching bra and sliding that on his body as well.

Dance Girl Dance.

I like to turn the music on. I admired my cross-dressing friend, admiring himself and watching him wiggle his little hands and sway his body from left to right, running his hands up and down.  Once he was all done, and his little bra and panties on,  he always reached for the makeup, the brightest of red lipsticks. It’s always what he craved, and I oversee him placing it on his lips, always putting it on full and thick to cut the outline of his lips perfectly, making them kissable.

He laughs, gets into my jewelry, and puts a pair of earrings on his ears. He prefers the largest, most dangling ones. My little cross-dressing friend always finishes his look with one of my long silk robes, wrapping it around his body and leaving it open in the front while dancing around. I just want him to smile and think how fun it is being a girl.

Want to play dress up with me?

 

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