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The Wedding Proposal, Chapter VIII (Postmission)

Chastity

I slowly let the sheer, white stockings slide up along my closely shaven legs. They were smooth as silk, and no hint of coarseness caught the fabric as I stepped into them. The broad bands of elaborate lace hugged my thighs and made me feel great. Four straps, each decorated with a small silk ribbon, held the stockings attached to the garter belt I wore around my waist. The coarse lace felt tight around my body, but I loved the feeling of the feminine garment. It filled me with joy and arousal. It made my heart race and my crotch tingle slightly. Inside the delicate, white panties something began to stir and grow, gliding along the soft fabric and rising towards the ruffled rim.  I took my time and enjoyed the ritual. Each garment was carefully studied, and I smelled the cleanness of güvenilir bahis the lingerie before I slowly put it on. Every time it stirred new sensations in me, and each piece made me feel more and more like the person I wanted to be. I knew that none but me would see me wearing it, but the lingerie seemed to tamper with my mind and give me the confidence and sensuality I needed. I didn’t really need to wear it for what was to come. No one would know what was beneath the wedding gown, but I wanted this to be as close to reality as possible. I couldn’t perform in this sham without making every possible attempt to make it real. Not as much for the spectators as for myself. This was going to be the greatest adventure of my life so far. I had crossdressed a few times to myself in güvenilir bahis siteleri secret, but being asked to perform as someone’s bride was beyond crazy. The thought had stunned me at first, but I knew that I had been fantasizing about this, and I would never have an opportunity like this again. Even though I found it absolutely absurd, I agreed to it with my heart pounding like a blacksmith’s hammer. The corset hugged my faux breasts perfectly, making me believe that I could actually feel the lace against my erect nipples. My waist was pressed tightly by the constricting attire, but although I couldn’t breathe freely, it seemed to spike my femininity. I looked down at the curves it produced, and a rush of adrenaline surged through me. I was looking more and more like iddaa siteleri a real girl. Luckily, I had always worn my hair long. I therefore needed only to style it properly. I knew that it would be difficult to do it myself, so I had been up early and gone to a hairdresser nearby. This felt like a last rehearsal before the big show, and as I walked down the street, acting as a girl, I saw to my relief none of the laughing faces or pointing fingers I had imagined would meet me. The hairdresser chatted on while dyeing and curling my hair, never figuring out that she wasn’t servicing a girl. My heart was beating rapidly, threatening to burst from my chest the entire time. I had never been out in public as a girl before, but luckily there weren’t many people up this early. With my now golden hair braided and curled, I felt overdressed as I walked home, ready to don all the fabulous clothing I had laid out on my bed. My confidence had been greatly strengthened by the visit, and I felt a little bit more ready for what was to come.

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