Crossdresser Novels & Stories

I stood there and let him do that to appreciate the beauty in front of him. I'm not vain, but I know I'm pretty. I'd been told that by different men, and I had seen my reflection in the mirror. With long curly ginger hair and black eyes, which I was told were seductive as hell, and an hourglass figure, I could pass for a woman if I wanted to cross-dress, not like I would ever do that. No offence to cross-dressers, but I have never been comfortable in a gown or skirt. I tried it out once and knew it wasn't my cup of tea.

I've been pregnant for six months, but my Alpha mate, William, has delayed our mating ceremony 29 times. He's waiting for his adopted sister, Rita, to find a mate so they can have a "two-couple mating ceremony." The 30th time I altered the waist of my beloved mating ceremony dress, the bridal shop assistant looked embarrassed, "Miss, this dress really can't be widened anymore. How about you choose another one?" Disappointment rose in my throat like bile. I called William, asking when the ceremony would finally happen.

I smiled letting my lust sneak through. "Hold on," Timothy grinned. I was in trouble. "When I helped Cáel move in I saw he had a huge box full of women's clothes - not in his size. He's not a cross dresser." Gee - thanks Timothy, you right bastard. "What is a cross dresser?" Aya piped up. I groaned. "A cross dresser is a man who dresses up like a woman," Nikita provided. "A Drag Queen is a man who dresses up like a famous woman/actress/singer. A transvestite is a man who dresses like a woman because they want to be a woman."

“Do you truly need this many posters of those pop-idols?” I planted a hand on my hip, ready to defend my sanctuary. “Do you have a grievance with my decor?” Harrison shook his head, but the amusement didn't leave his eyes as he took a seat on the edge of my furs. “No grievance at all.” “You’d best not,” I muttered, slipping past him to fling open the wardrobe. “What should I wear to represent the Cruz name?” I caught him rolling his eyes in the mirror. “You’re consulting the wrong predator, Stick Girl. Just put on a gown.”

My coworker found out my girlfriend was a wealthy heiress, and he saw his chance to worm his way into her bed. Two months later, he strutted up to me with his nose in the air. "Your girlfriend's pregnant with my child. Do yourself a favor and back off before this gets ugly." Whose child? I froze. The problem was, the wealthy heiress "girlfriend" he kept talking about was actually a man. So whose baby was it?

My nose wrinkled in disgust at Ryder’s fake responses, my lips sealing once again over my cup of tea before speaking. “But what about cross-dressers? I recall you weren’t too fond of them.” Ryder’s complexion darkened, his fists clenching so hard his knuckled turned white. I sipped on my tea. “Saying I am not too fond of cross-dressers would be hypocritical as I am the one who buys my little brother’s skirts and make up, Carter.” The tea suddenly scraped against my throat, making me cough vehemently. My dad stretched on his chair, hitting my back twice with his palm.

I stepped out of my room wearing one of my old dresses, I was surprised that it still fits although it's a bit snug around the waist. I paired the dress with black stilettos, pulling it down a bit, Theo stood up and I smiled at him. "The toxic masculinity urge to tell you to go change back into those sweats is huge right now," he said and I giggled as I fixed my earrings. "Then keep it," I said and fixed the string by my high slit.

" Yeah, about that, a number of them agreed to it except for one person." I leaned on the steel wall, frowning. " Then the hell with her. Get someone else to fill her place?" Ruth's lips curved downwards. " Actually, sir. The models a guy." My frown went deeper. " What is all this crappy talk? I told you I need female models. What's a guy doing here?" " He's a model just like the rest of the women, Mr Langdon," Ruth explained, her eyes going through her clipboard. " He's... Well, how do I put it? A crossdresser."

“And so beside the point. I swear if he brings anything more than a pair of stockings, then I’m totally fucked. I looked at every closet last night, and they are filled to the hilt. Brian, I have wears more than a fucken store, what am I going to do? I don’t have space at all.” “You better find some space girl, and you better do it fast. Men don’t like searching for their boxers and finding your tights instead, or fighting through your evening dress to get to their suits every morning before they can get dressed for work. If he doesn’t cross dress, then you have a huge fucken issue. “Of course he doesn’t cross dress.” “Then sorry best friend, but you are screwed. Just close your eyes and se

I'd need the confidence boost that comes from realizing that what's hiding beneath my clothes has the potential to bring him to his knees. Would, in the long run, bring him down to his knees. In addition to using my new credit card for the first time, I also went shopping for additional work attire. My college-girl-playing-dress-up outfits were starting to make me feel insecure because I was constantly surrounded by people wearing designer clothing. I wanted Ryder to recognize me for the woman that I was, not the college student that I had been in the past.