What a load of rubbish that is. I regret everything about my former life. Why didn't I just accept what I was? Why wasn't I myself? Why did I try to hide it all? No more regrets. Go out and be yourself Tricia; you need to be brave, but you are. you need to risk loads but you can. You can do it, girl.
So I walked round Manchester for over an hour, fully made up with wig, short blue denim skirt (god I love my legs), yellow top, green jacket. Blue and green not fit to be seen except upon a fairy queen (so that's fair enough) and I get no response. I must be able to pass? Isn't that brilliant., until at the end a few schoolgirls start whistling at me and making comments. I have prepared for this however, and hod my head up high and keep on walking. I have been out dressed, I have survived, there was a rush and excitement, but somehow I feel strangely empty. So to night time and I am the dancing queen. Gave my red dress an airing and tried going bra-less using patches. It works well with my tit tape. Wonderful night and up arm-in-arm with a man called Tony. I try and I try and I try to get him to cum; his cock must have been in my mouth for hours, but he's too drunk. Gives me a hard spanking for failing to make him cum but I can see he is not too bothered, and kisses my backside afterwards. We exchange numbers, this could go somewhere.
Well it didn't. Two weeks later I'm back in Manchester to meet him. But his phone is off the hook, I couldn't get in touch. No regrets Tricia, out you go girl around Manchester, show everyone what you are. And I did again, but this time it was different. People were too busy to be interested in little me. It was quite strange. I was doing what I wanted to do but not getting anything from it. Was it what I wanted to do?
Then I went back to Canal Street where the gays and trannies go, and was in my element, I got comments and whistles, posed for photos and it was great fun. I was so obviously a tranny - but so what, it felt great. Dancing Queen again that night, another guy back to the hotel, and this time my first taste of cum, yummy!
So I walked round Manchester for over an hour, fully made up with wig, short blue denim skirt (god I love my legs), yellow top, green jacket. Blue and green not fit to be seen except upon a fairy queen (so that's fair enough) and I get no response. I must be able to pass? Isn't that brilliant., until at the end a few schoolgirls start whistling at me and making comments. I have prepared for this however, and hod my head up high and keep on walking. I have been out dressed, I have survived, there was a rush and excitement, but somehow I feel strangely empty. So to night time and I am the dancing queen. Gave my red dress an airing and tried going bra-less using patches. It works well with my tit tape. Wonderful night and up arm-in-arm with a man called Tony. I try and I try and I try to get him to cum; his cock must have been in my mouth for hours, but he's too drunk. Gives me a hard spanking for failing to make him cum but I can see he is not too bothered, and kisses my backside afterwards. We exchange numbers, this could go somewhere.
Well it didn't. Two weeks later I'm back in Manchester to meet him. But his phone is off the hook, I couldn't get in touch. No regrets Tricia, out you go girl around Manchester, show everyone what you are. And I did again, but this time it was different. People were too busy to be interested in little me. It was quite strange. I was doing what I wanted to do but not getting anything from it. Was it what I wanted to do?
Then I went back to Canal Street where the gays and trannies go, and was in my element, I got comments and whistles, posed for photos and it was great fun. I was so obviously a tranny - but so what, it felt great. Dancing Queen again that night, another guy back to the hotel, and this time my first taste of cum, yummy!
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