I am a shoe shoe, and it is also a transvestite. My disguise is derived from my love shoe. I had long been obsessed with velveteen black cloth shoes. At first I just liked to collect. I often came out with a drumstick at home when I was at home. Later I felt less than enjoyable, and I gradually developed to like dresses in stockings and high-heeled velveteen black shoes. Travel,,, that feels too exciting.
I remember one summer three years ago, when I was living alone in a suburb not far away, I was a semi-closed community with some factories on the north side of the community. Then there was the wheat field. There was no street lamp at night and it was dark. I did not dare to make a trip in the middle of the day, so after observing the terrain around a few days, I decided to realize this long-awaited desire for a long time, even if it was a small one. The opportunity finally arrived. I carefully painted my makeup at home (both nervous and excited) and put on a bra, a wig, a pantyhose, a high-heeled black cloth, and a maxi dress. (At that time, the waist was 2 feet 4 And my ass is like a woman, very full and round. It's really a lovely young woman. In this way, I held my breath, gently downstairs, riding a bicycle, and heading for a predetermined route.
There were many people in the community. Everyone was enjoying the cool side of the road. Occasionally, there were several bad teenagers who blew me up and whistled. In my heart, I didn't seem to miss any flaws. Out of the area, I rode to the north side of the road. I plan to get there and walk out of the car to slowly taste the feeling of being a woman and wearing black shoes, because there are few people there. Soon, I arrived at the path that connected many old factories. This road was basically dim, but there was only a yellow street lamp every tens of meters. I got out of the car and wandered along the path, listening to the buzzing sound of the black cloth shoes under my feet, and fantasizing that I was really a woman. This was not. A velveteen high-heeled black cloth was worn in a certain institution. The young woman at work in the hospital has only just gone to work and is rushing to go home.
There are passers-by on the way from time to time. Maybe they are thinking: Whose wife is this? How capable she should be if she is capable!
That's a wonderful feeling. I really hope that it will continue to go like this.
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