Last night, I did some self-evaluation as to the effects that my feminizing hormones are having on my hips. Last summer, when my hips were very narrow, a wide-hipped acquaintance assured me that my hips were lovely and she wished hers looked like mine. Even so, by my standards, some extra width would be nice for me, and that is now happening.
Fortunately, I’ve done enough midriff exercises to keep my shape hourglassy even as I’m changing shape. As my hips get wider, the waist-to-hip ratio moves closer to what I’d like. It’s a new experience for me, to think of my hips as a pretty part of my physique.
I woke up today after having the nicest dream, on the subject of — yes, my hips. In the dream, I was walking around some large building complex such as a huge shopping mall, with multiple restaurants. I felt naturally confident as just one more girl, walking around and enjoying life.
If you’ve been reading my articles long enough, you know that I’m as gay as a Maypole, meaning I’m a girl who likes girls. And so, in the dream, I saw several pretty girls. I felt as their peer, and they seemed to look on me as such, as we walked past each other, in general benevolence.
One girl, a brunette, seemed a bit more wild in her choice of personal look; she had some piercings and tattoos, and a more trendy, edgy style to her clothing. Her hair was shoulder-length but with a sort of rebel-girl style. When she saw me, she stopped and looked me up and down, and told me: “You have the sexiest hips. Come with me; I want to feel them.” Wow, okay.
I followed her. She seemed to know her way around and finally took us inside an elegant, dimly lighted restaurant that had table candlelight and yet was already closed for the night; deserted as far as I could tell. She faced me, and started touching me. It was SO sexy but totally in a girl-girl way. I know that dreams are hard to remember, but somehow I’m sure, now that I’m awake, that I’ve never had a dream quite like this. The girl wasn’t overpowering yet she was very assertive. She knew what she wanted, and she wanted me.
At this point the story gets vague — not because I’m trying to keep things bland for my teenage readers; I really don’t remember the details clearly now that I’m awake. I recall the clothes coming off, and right before mine came off, I warned her that I’m a trans girl in case this bothered her. She expressed surprise in a complimentary way, as if I’d come across to her as just one more girl. Anyway, she didn’t seem bothered about it.
The next part of the dream is probably the intense part but … I don’t remember any of it. After, presumably, much mutual pleasure, she and I got up to walk out together, and then we noticed that only one section of the restaurant had been closed off; the section of carpeting where we had enjoyed each others’ company was in fact shared with three or four parties, sitting at their tables and placidly dining, apparently not disturbed by the two lesbian girls having undressed and frolicked in plain sight. I liked that the “wow, that would never happen” part of the dream involved that, and not the part leading up to it.
I really like how well the entire who-and-what-I-am premise is by now so well-integrated in my subconscious mind …