A man see me in panties became an obsession

To this point my story has been in chronological order , but I have lost track of details - not that you will actually care – but some events are not sequential .

But what is sequential is this description of my flowering into flagrant feminine cruising . 

It wasn't an overnight flash . More the product of sex day dreaming and wishful thinking to be desirable – fuckable if and when a man found me (erect in knowing I was sure where men would find me .)

So would they be more taken by a man in , say , a skirt ? Would they want to lift the skirt to see what I had on underneath ? Would they be strong and manly if I was womanish ?

Many variations on this theme gave for delicious emissions and serious planning

Planning what to dress in and when to dress and what to do with street clothes , later to consider condoms and vaseline and paper towels . These actions occurred in steps that followed from actual physical encounters with  men  in the stroll .

For example voyeurs . About every year I'd have someone just want to stand back and stare . Not necessarily masturbate while doing so , but they would like me to be ' flirtacious ' and have a hard cock . For them feminine garb was essential (unlike 'regular ' queers for whom my skirt and knickers were simply identifiers of my status) . I learned to act like a stripper – not necessarily undressing , but flouting and posturing sexually . One guy wanted me to be on the ground as he looked down on me . He rewarded the ' moves ' (for example pinging the elastic of my panties) by reaching down and giving a few delicious pulls on my penis through my panties - my preferred way of being masturbated by a man . By chance on that occasion my panties were lacy ' hipsters ' - bright red . 

My hope that this guy found those particularly enticing for watching me so feminized had no real basis , but it did have the effect that I spent time on deciding which panties were sexier to be seen in – a question still in play and which (because crossdressers like nothing more than going on about panties `) I will elaborate on below .

Getting there in panties presented no problem , but other stuff couldn't be hidden under pants unless I carried the pants with me as I sashayed along the paths  - which seemed counter to my wish to be female . The solution arrived at was a plastic shopping bag . Skirts got a little creased but still felt awfully good when the wind blew around them , and suspender belt and stockings could be squashed . Much later still I wore all of those and a bra and camisole to a different stroll .By then I was a bold ' do-you-want-your-cock-pleased ' fully fledged transvestite sissy and a backpack with tubes of lubricant and paper towels and car keys ,feminine or not , was best .

Dressing , at the first stroll , followed vaulting the fence . Then , to be out of sight of the cemetery , I had to descend the wooded slope a few yards . In the trees you could be seen but the paths did n't cross the steep slope so there was privacy to change (I did not want to change at the bottom - I wanted to be strictly a sort-of woman when seen there). But putting on a garter belt and stockings on a steep slope meant balancing by holding onto a tree while preventing my stockings from catching on brush . 

Once completely dressed ,and having an erection I scrambled down to where the action should be . Sometimes there was none . In hope I would circle the entire stroll several times , and in later times I might mount the rail track and parade swishingly along it in case there was someone in the bushes . I also took lipstick which I ostentatiously applied (hardly needed – I was already clearly a man in womens' clothes , but I liked doing it anyway .)

In time the stroll gradually became less used (there may have been a publicized police raid) and when finding a man to thrill might mean a lengthy wait I laid on the grass in a side 'cave' off the main path waiting . To flag my presence – and tendencies - I hung a spare pair of panties from a twig at the junction with the main path .

This had the advantage of selecting guys with the right hunger . I think most of them assumed a ' female ' like me would service them by sucking their penis (some wanted more) . They might ask ' what do you like ? ' or simply undo their pants and wait for you to kneel . One guy whose erect penis I was taking while cradling his balls was empathetic enough to do something thst might seem minor to you but which at the time excited me hugely (fellatio on the giving end is tiresome) - he reached down and played with my bra strap ! It flooded me with woman feeling !

If no one came then I would always relieve myself , take off my cherished frilly things and go home .

Yes , tame stuff . I just don't want to go hard (pun intended) yet , but will write of my faggot evolution later .