So there I am, in nothing but my red lacy bikini-cut panties and a matching see-through bra, with stockings that went up over my knees. My pretty pitch black hair down my back and my make-up applied perfectly, I examined myself in the mirror. I looked great. I worked out constanly to remain my feminie figure, I demanded I not end up looking like those disgusting hairy freeks. I prided myself in genuinely looking like a real girl; I was the perfect trap. You could never tell I was even a guy, unless you checked my chest or slight bulge within my delicate underwear.
I would often post and browse random websites of interest, and amongst them I eventually came to GetDare. There crossdressing was accepted and openly encouraged, and even the straight men could be talked into taboo and otherwise naughty things with a simple response of "dare". It was fascinating, and with the help of my webcam, I quickly made friends with quite a few of the users. I was unafraid of my online decadence coming to haunt me or my real life situation, my female and male personnas could never be matched. No one would ever believe "Brad" was "Naomi". I was safe from ever being found.
I came across this cute looking girl who listed crossdressing a turn-on, and decided to message her out of curiousity. We chatted on webcam and she was a real pretty-looking girl I must admit, dark brown hair, blue eyes, and a rather fantastic body. I moslty associated myself as straight so I valued a decent body on a girl, infact, if a girl wasn't atleast a C-cup I wouldn't even bother with her. But this one? Atleast a C-34, and legs and ass that beat even my own. We posed in our sluttiest outfits for eachother on webcam, and enjoyed every minute of it.
This went on for a few days until eventually I asked a question I was afraid to. "Where do you live?" She answered. I was shocked! We lived in the same city. Perhaps we could meet she asked, and I jumped at the chance. I gave her the directions on my house and asked her to come over on a long weekend, instructing her to bring a suitcase or two of her more feminie outfits. I assured her there was little need to bring casual clothing as she could wear mine, and we were also the same fit and size. It all came together perfectly!
We were to meet on Friday morning at my house. I woke up early to get myself ready, I straightened my hair and washed up. I fixed my make-up, did my nails, and slipped on some nice full-cut panties and a matching frilly pink bra and a fully-body night-gown that was see-through. I insected myself in the mirror; today was the day. My fantasies may finally come true I thought. I looked like more a girl than she did I thought out loud, would she even recognize me as a boy? But my train of thought was shortly derailed, as I heard a knock on the door.
She was here.
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