College Crossdressing Confessions Ch. 03

I remained dressed in Suzanne's dancewear as I prepared for bed. Once I brushed my teeth, I could not resist climbing under the covers and relishing the feeling of the slippery tights and leotard and tights under the sheets. I did not want to take them off, so I slept in them again, my horniness heightened by the pleasures of my spandex cocoon.

Each night that week, I met the same fate as I failed to resist the charms of Suzanne's delectable dancewear. I came home with every intention of breaking the cycle, but could not resist slipping into the tights, pulling on the leotard, and prancing around the apartment like the ultra feminine dancer or sorority aerobics queen of my fantasies. By Thursday, I was crazed with lust. I came home from my afternoon classes and was again seduced by Suzanne's delicate dance clothes. I pulled on the tights and leotard again, enjoying ever caress of the fabric as I pulled them up my body and securely around my now starving cock. I tried to study before my 5:30 accounting class, fighting the distraction from the wonderful workout wear. Thinking of Suzanne and the first time I saw her wearing the very things that had become my obsession.

When it came time to get dressed for class, I had another particularly naughty notion. My heart raced with excitement as I grabbed my nylon wind pants I sometimes wore to the gym and my fraternity letter jersey. I pulled the wind pants on over the tights and pulled the letter jersey over my leotard. I then put my high top basketball shoes on over my tights covered feet. I thought about wearing socks over the tights to provide some additional cover, but did not want to give up the delicious feel of the tights in my shoes so I recklessly risked detection. As I left for class, I could barely walk without shivering with sexual pleasure. Being outside and feeling the wind through the tights and leotard was delicious. The Lycra and spandex slid delightfully against the wind pants and my body felt warm and tingly compressed in the leotard and tights under my clothes.

As I arrived on campus, parked, and began walking to class, I felt a new level of excitement. I was confident fraternity boy striding across campus, speaking with girls and other friends on the way, but with a naughty sissy secret underneath my wind pants and fraternity jersey. This feeling, combined with my five days of dancewear and orgasm denial, had me deliciously on edge as I made my way into the building and then into the lecture hall. I knew that I would feel particularly depraved wearing Suzanne's tights and leotard while sitting right behind her in class. I sat down in my usual seat and waited on her to arrive. Shortly after I sat down, she walked in wearing shorts and a sweatshirt over what I could tell was a bright pink unitard with her thick slouchy socks pulled up over the pink spandex covering her ankles.

My voice cracked as I said hello. I am sure that she could not imagine that I was wearing her missing tights and leotard under my clothes, that I had been luxuriating in them all week, and how close I felt to her femininity, My shame had been overcome by the girly joy I felt wearing her sexy dancewear, prancing around my apartment, and just going about my daily life dressed in her leotard and scrumptious white shimmer tights. Now seeing her in class dressed in yet another splendid spandex specimen, my only regret was that I did not have access to her entire drawer of tights, leotards, unitards, legwarmers, and other delights. I am certain it would have been girly heaven.

Sitting through class was difficult, but wonderful, as I admired Susanne's feminine beauty and the feeling of her most intimate clothes on my body, while struggling to maintain any sort of focus through tension of my spandex wrapped, orgasm denied body. Finally class was over. On the way out, I engaged Susanne in conversation, complementing her on the latest Pom Pom squad performance at the basketball game last week. One of her friends came by with two other girls and a couple of my fraternity brothers and suggested we grab a quick beer at the campus pub. I was torn because I was, after all, wearing Susanne's leotard and tights under my clothes, but I could not deny myself the perverse pleasure of being around her. I agreed to join them and had two more hours of pleasure and delicious agony as we talked, laughed, and joked. Her bright eyes and sweet smile combined with her grace and smoking hot body were intoxicating. However, knowing that I was wearing her sexy dance clothes under my shirt and wind pants and the yummy feeling of the tights and leotard created a deeper feeling of titillation that was exquisite.

Our gathering finally began to break up, and I excused myself to go home. I arrived home about 10 pm, and quickly slid my shoes off of my feet. My tights covered feet were slightly damp and darkened with perspiration, and the cool air created a wonderful sensation when I freed my feet from the shoes. I was again alone to enjoy the wonderful feeling of lounging around my apartment in Suzanne's delicious dancewear. I felt a connection to her sexy grace keenly remembered from being with her that evening. I pranced around the apartment with my leotard and tights suppressed cock tingling in its Lycra and spandex prison. I enjoyed the slick feeling of sitting on the couch as my body and legs slid along the fabric on the couch. I posed like the girly dancer I so wanted to be.

I finally could not take it anymore. I was desperate for an orgasm, but it was only 11:30, and I had to be true to my pledge. Crazed with lust and frustrated by self imposed denial, I finally gave it to my desires. I stripped off the leotard and tights that had both titillated and tortured my entire being and reached into my lingerie stash.

Ten minutes later, I was dressed in my garter belt and black stockings with my ass impaled on the fat bedpost, rocking back and forth in a desperate dance for stimulation and waiting on the midnight stroke of the clock so I could stroke my wanting cock. Suzanne would surely freak if she could have seen the effect of her leotard and tights on this cute college fraternity boy now stockinged and impaled on the bedpost--a portrait of perversion, emblem of lust, and monument to depravity.