I stepped out of my office and jumped on my bicycle, having pushed the package that had been delivered to my desk into my back pack. My pink cycle helmet matched my pale pink tee shirt and as I pulled into the afternoon traffic in the spring sunshine.
I would say I was hardly looking my best in a pair of jeans and runners in the Montreal spring sunshine. I usually like to bring at least some femininity to my look, even when just cycling through the traffic on my way back to Huckleberry Close.
Just then, between the slow moving vehicles and the pedestrians hurrying to their buses I caught sight of Robin, who I’ve recently found very attractive and certainly seems what I could best describe as ‘an exciting diversion’. Doubtless they were on their way up to the coffee shop on the corner, where I’ve often seen them hang out. If I were to hurry, just a little…
I pulled off the road and secured my bike and then hurried in to the café, ordered a coffee and then ducked into the bathroom. You have to hand it to Starbucks, their bathrooms really are designed with the crossdresser in mind. Bright, clean and spacious, perfect for the quick change and application of some makeup.
I opened up my back pack and rummaged around finding some makeup. What a shame I had barely any clothes in my pack that might add to my gurly look. I took a moment or two to work with the makeup, and once satisfied looked to my clothes.
Just then I remembered the package I’d received from Maureen at Glamour Boutique. I opened it and was thrilled to find a wonderful pair of patent black ankle boots. The heels were sensual and long, and the shiny black surfaces almost liquid black. They were both elegant and slutty at the same time. Exactly what I needed.
How to turn from bland clothing to power crossdresser in just a few moments? I rolled my jeans up a few turns, pulled a strappy belt from my pack, untucked my tee shirt and fastened the belt around my waist. I then stepped into the languid new black boots, feeling how comfortable the fit was. I am a size 10 male – or 12 femme – and they fit perfectly. I fastened the laces nice and firmly and felt the stiletto heels securely supporting me. No tottering too and fro today!
Looking at myself in the mirror I was quite satisfied that I combined that blend of sporty sophistication while retaining a sense of being vaguely accessible. ‘Yes,’ I thought, ‘Robin will like this!’
I turned around and checked the back view. These boots were helping my posture in just the way I like with a heeled boot. My bum was just right, being both round but lifted nicely by the way the heels worked with my physique. I was going to love these boots!
As I stepped out of the bathroom I saw a few heads turn, and then the glass doors opened and Robin entered the café. I walked toward them, marveling at how comfortable the boots felt.
“Robin,” I said happily. “What an unexpected surprise!”
“Oh, Fiona,” they said. “You look stunning.”
I watched their eyes slide down my body and check me out. How indiscreet of them, I though. Delightful.
“Oh, Robin,” I said trying to be bashful. “It’s nothing. I’m just cycling home, and happened to stop in here. Now, I wonder if I can press you to some banana loaf. You do like banana, don’t you?”
Have a lovely week.