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The world is bleak and colourless, shrouded in a thin mist that makes distant views ghostly and washed-out. A dull leaden sky casts a gloom over the common, shadowless, heavy and oppressive. The air is still and breathless with not even a hint of a breeze. And its so quiet! Apart from the drone of an occasional car or van along the lane between the fields and the woods. But even they are strangely muted. There are few folk about either – there were only 5 cars in the car park – the lockdown is biting hard.
The trees stand silently in serried ranks of bare sticks, voices silent in the lifeless air – no creaking joints or finger-like twigs rattling together. Fast asleep, deep in their winter slumber, patiently waiting for spring. Nothing stirs. The squirrels are hunkered down in their dreys, there are no birds flitting about. All is veiled drab brown and grey, punctuated by the occasional green stab of a Holly or Gorse bush. Nothing is happening. It is a time for introspection.
But wait! – there is some colour. The gorse is in flower – its rich yellow flowers like pinpricks of gold in the distance. And me of course! In my rusty-orange winter coat and bright red lips! – and the red harness that 2poos is wearing. Am I squelching along the muddy path, bowed down and depressed?
Not me! This is one of the only times that Stephanie can manifest herself in the real world and she is making the most of it. She spends most of her time locked in a drab mans world, her only way of self expression is in the virtual world of CDH, and the lovely new friends she has made there. It is a world full of soundless chattering voices clamouring to be heard, eager for news and fun and contact with other girls. I don’t know how I would cope without it.
I decide to look inward- not at my thoughts, which are always buzzing around- but to zone in on my femininity. I want to experience my physical feminine self. So, I check out 2poos. She is weaving around like a demented hoover, nose to the ground, reading the news, feathered tail held erect like a flag.
I start at the top and work down. Glancing up I see my fringe, which is just brushing my eyebrows, and am aware of my blonde hair poking out from under my woolly hat, covering my Prince Charles’. The cheap clip-on hoop earrings are pinching my lobes. I can’t feel my lipstick but I know its there.
And on down, and am transported to a wonderful place. My bra straps and band feel sublime against my skin as I jiggle my shoulders. Its a feeling of femininity like no other. A kind of caressing cuddle. I am aware of my breasts of course, but the bra is doing its job, the shoulder straps are not digging in, the breasts almost weightless. Jiggle and enjoy. Rinse and repeat.
I unzip my coat to feel the chill air, reach in and cup a wonderfully full and soft yielding breast, firm and so lifelike. I’m in heaven.
But I can’t stay there all day, so I move on down. I glance down over the pleasing swell of my breasts under their leopard print top, to catch a glimpse of my emerald green cord skirt, opaque hold ups and muddy black ankle boots. A lot of our femme enjoyment is visual, so I feast my eyes. I am looking at me as the woman I am for a change, and it’s quite exhilarating!
Now for the icing on the cake! I feel the hem of my skirt brushing against my legs – no trouser or legging can give this lovely sensation. And sensational it is! For me it is an iconic femme feeling. It’s better against bare legs of course, but hey! its winter and only two degrees centigrade this morning. But the real peak of feminine sensation is that cool air feeling ‘twixt holdup and panties, even when there is no breeze to enhance it. I’m in femme heaven! And I am sucking every moment of delight out of it.
I jog- just a little- and am rewarded by my boobs bouncing sensationally in their wireless soft bra (which is why I am wearing it). There is nothing quite like bouncing boobs, is there? 2poos runs to keep up. I could do this all day. But the far woods are closing in.
I’ve reached the end of the common now. It’s time to cross over to the silent woods, so I crouch down, knees modestly together, skirt hem stretched pleasingly against 40denier hosiery – oh how I love this! – to clip on 2poos lead. She’s seen the trees and is eager to go squirrely hunting. She will have no success this damp, cold, gloomy morning but she is such an optimist nothing will deter her from looking. We are both having fun in our different ways.
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