Dear Tessy and All Other Poufbunnies,


What a marvelous topic!  And, I might add, a topic which I can speak to directly as I have had several personal, first-hand experiences enjoying this exciting, pleasurable feeling.


To set the stage:  I am not a “professional” twirler.  I’m not even sure there is such a profession.  All of my twirling experiences occurred during an extended period when my wife was out of town attending to personal matters.  As a lifelong petticoat aficionado, I knew it was now or never for dressing in petticoats and all my other female square dance finery, then getting out there and dancing and having a good time.  So that’s exactly what I did.


My wife and I were square dancers at a local square dance club, so I knew from general conversation how any person (crossdresser, gay, etc) out of the “norm” was not accepted and generally frowned upon.  As a crossdresser, I knew that if I wanted to fulfill my fantasy of dancing en femme, I would have to approach the local gay and lesbian square dance club.  Via telephone, I did just that and soon found myself amicably chatting with the club president.  He told me that the club, unlike the “straight” clubs, was very accepting and accommodating of all orientations.  When I told him that I was a crossdresser and wished to dance while dressed in women’s clothing, he said that would be fine.  My “outing” myself as a crossdresser to him didn’t seem to make the slightest difference.  He then asked if I would be dancing the male or female position.  It had never occurred to me that I might dance the male position while dressed as a woman.  I told him I would like to dance the woman’s position.  He again said that would be fine.  He gave me the address, date, and time of the club’s next regularly scheduled dance and said he was looking forward to seeing me there.  Wow!


I showed up, dressed en femme (wig, pretty blouse, skirt, hose, flats, and of course a very full petticoat) and was immediately and warmly greeted by everyone in attendance, both men and women.  I quickly noticed that I was the only person in the entire room, man or woman, not wearing blue jeans or slacks.  Needless to say, in all my en femme finery, I really stood out, and I’m not just talking about the bouffant-ness of my petticoats!  I loved it!


(A side note:  Since there were more men than women at the dance and some men would be unavoidably pressed into dancing the women’s position, in order to make it easier for the dancers to recognize the men from the women, some men wore pink plastic lei’s.)


Almost as soon as the first call started, I was having trouble keeping up.  Since I had never danced the woman’s position before, I kept turning and moving as I would otherwise have done if I were dancing the male position.  After breaking down the square and we had all returned to our starting positions, I apologized to the other members of the square and explained my predicament.  Fortunately, the other dancers quickly understood and forgave me.  My partner, a very large and very tall man, calmly assured me he would help me along.


When we once again began dancing, sure enough, every now and then my partner used his hand on my shoulder to gently guide or turn me in the proper direction.  After one “patter call” and then one “dance call,” I was moving easily and comfortably in the women’s position.  My partner and I agreed that I seemed to have quickly and easily learned the moves of the women’s position.


Between tips, my partner asked if there was anything else I thought I needed to learn.  I told him I would really like to know what it was like to be twirled like a spinning top.  He just grinned and said that he would see what he could do.  Shortly after that I caught a glimpse of him having a quiet word with the caller.


Soon enough, we all squared up again for another call.  My partner was by my side, grinning.  I must admit I was a bit “tingly” knowing what was soon to occur.  Apparently the word had gotten around to everybody else in the club, because everyone else in our square was also grinning.  My partner leaned over and asked if I had ever been twirled before.  I told him I had not, but had often fantasized about it and was excited about what was about to happen.  He then asked if I was wearing underwear.  When I looked at him as if to ask “what????” he quickly explained that the club had a policy of no nudity or other inappropriate exposure.  I told him I was wearing a complete square dance ensemble, outerwear as well as underwear, and that there would be no problems.


The caller began and the calls and movements seemed perfectly ordinary.  My partner and I were moving along nicely when the caller said:


"Star once around and give her a spin."


My partner held on to my hand, put his other hand around my side, quickly whispered “hold on tight and get on your tiptoes” and twirled us both around.  Sometime during this maneuver he stopped but continued to hold on to my hand, which he raised up above my head.  I was still twirling.  He continued my motion by gently pushing me as I came around.  Although my twirling lasted only a few seconds, during the time I was actually experiencing it it seemed to last much longer.  Finally, I stopped and lowered my hand and feet - to find myself a bit dizzy.  I also noticed that everyone else in the club had stopped and was watching me and that the caller had also stopped speaking.


As soon as I - and the room - stopped spinning, everyone burst into applause.  I was sure I had an embarrassed look on my face, but it quickly faded.  I spoke and thanked everyone for indulging me.  My partner asked me if I had enjoyed it.  I said yes and thanked him for his efforts and participation.  He said it was his pleasure.  The rest of the dance was uneventful.


It was a wonderful, magical event that I thought I would never again experience.  I was wrong.


Not long after my dancing with the local gay and lesbian square dance club, their club president telephoned and asked if I would like to dress up again and dance at their upcoming anniversary dance.  He said that the club members had really enjoyed having me because not only was I a good dancer, but also it was seldom that a dancer dressed in “traditional” women’s square dance attire ever danced with them.


I told him that although flattered, I wasn’t sure this would be a good idea because I knew that square dance clubs’ anniversary dances traditionally have open invitations extended to all square dancers, regardless of gender or orientation, and I didn’t want to “out” myself should straight dancers from other clubs attend.  After some additional discussion between the club president and myself (other dancers probably wouldn’t be recognizing me while I was dressed as a woman since they would have never seen me dressed that way before and wouldn’t be looking for me dressed that way now; the reality was that few straight dancers accepted the open invitation from his club; etc), I finally agreed.  It was a decision I would come to appreciate all the more as time goes by.


The anniversary dance was held and I was there in my very best feminine square dance attire, including a brand new 100 yard petticoat I had purchased just for the occasion.  I was also wearing an 80 yard petticoat, so I was extremely bouffant.  I must confess that I was hugely enjoying the experience.


As soon as I walked through the door, I was again warmly greeted and it didn’t take long before I was being good-naturedly ribbed about my exaggerated appearance.  I didn’t care.  I was on a personal high and practically floating through the evening.


The dances were all fun and I had no difficulties in dancing the women’s position.  My former partner was there and we danced a few tips, but I was clearly being sought out by others who also wanted to partner with me.  Perhaps they just wanted to enjoy the sensation of feeling petticoats.  I'll never know for sure, of course, but I do know I couldn't blame them.  In any case, it was a fun but exhausting evening.  I hardly had time to sit and catch my breath between dances.


As the evening wore on, my original partner came over and asked if I would like to be twirled again.  I said I would.  Even without music, we both knew what to do.  He took my hand, I raised myself on to my toes, and we held each other as we quickly spun around.  But then something different happened.  A (GG) woman who was in our square (who I had never previously met) had been watching us.  After my partner and I stopped, she spoke up and said I was spinning and twirling, but that my form was incorrect.  I asked her what she meant.  She said the placement of my feet was all wrong.  I asked her to explain and to show me what she meant.


We moved into an open area where we could move without being in the way of other dancers.  She positioned herself next to me and attempted to show me how our feet should be placed so as to compliment each other.  My petticoats were too bouffant and I could not see our feet, so I had the delightful necessity of crushing my petticoats against myself in order to see our feet.  That was fun!  The woman knew what I was doing but didn’t seem to mind.  Once our feet were in place, at her direction, we held each other as dancers and, pivoting against one another, twirled one another.  Her movements seemed to flow easily while my own seemed slower and sluggish.  I chalked it up to inexperience, but my new friend was having none of it.  She insisted that the two of us keep at it until we got it right.  And so we did.  We were both performing the steps properly, but I didn’t seem to be getting any better.  Neither of us could explain why.


Finally, she asked what type of shoes I was wearing.  I showed her and immediately she spotted the problem.  I was wearing shoes with a composition sole.  The floor was polished wood.  She asked if I had any hard soled dancing shoes.  I told her I did, in the trunk of my car in the parking lot.  I picked up my purse and she and I walked out to my car.  I got my hard soled dancing shoes from the trunk, but then faced another situation.  When I dress in petticoats, I usually put my shoes on and then step into and pull up my petticoats.  Now, what to do?  I didn’t want to pull off my petticoats in the parking lot; having them touch the dirty parking lot surface would soil the petticoats.  The grease and oil stains would probably never come out.  My friend suggested I take my petticoats off by pulling them over my head, but I said that probably wouldn’t work because it would pull my wig off.  We finally hit upon a solution, which became another first for me.


I took my shoes with me, closed the trunk, and my friend and I visited the ladies restroom.  The ladies restroom actually consisted of two rooms:  An “outer” room which had a couch, some mirrors and a vanity for purses; and an “inner” room which had the usual stalls and sinks.  My friend and I stayed in the “outer” room, where I pulled down and stepped out of my petticoats, set them on a portion of the couch, then sat on another portion of the couch and changed my shoes.  Once changed, I again stepped into my petticoats, pulled them up, and adjusted myself in the mirror.  I picked up my purse and shoes and my friend and I returned to the dance floor.


As soon as I stepped on to the wooden floor, I could feel the difference.  My friend and I took up our by-now familiar positions and twirled one another.  We worked perfectly together!  At one point I was concerned that, because I was a male and probably much stronger physically, I might inadvertently send my friend spinning away, out of control, unless I really held on to her.  I mentioned this to my friend.  She suggested that if we were twirling each other properly, we would have no problems and I shouldn’t worry about her “flying away into space.”  So I stopped worrying and we both had a great time!


The slowness and sluggishness I had been experiencing had been due to the composition sole of my shoes against the hard wood flooring.  With my now wearing hard soled shoes, I was really moving.  We were both enjoying ourselves and our twirling a lot more!


Soon enough we were back dancing in a regular square.  Eventually the evening came to it’s normal conclusion.  It had been an incredible evening and one I will always fondly recall and warmly treasure.


So how did it actually “feel” to be wearing a petticoat while twirling?  There are not enough adjectives to describe the sensation:  Magical.  Wonderful.  Fun.  Exciting.  Awesome.  Spine-tingling.  Something which you just can’t get enough of.  Superlative.  Something you want to do over and over again.


There is a paradox to the reality, however.  When wearing my petticoats, I can feel the petticoats as my body moves while I’m wearing it.  As I move my legs and twist my body to and fro, or when I touch my petticoat with my hands or some other portion of my body, I come into contact with my petticoats and can feel them.  What wonderful feelings and sensations!  When I’m twirling, however, aerodynamic forces cause my petticoats to rise up and away from me until the only portion of the petticoats physically in contact with my body is the waistband and perhaps a bit of the yoke (uppermost portion of the petticoat).  Obviously, during those times I cannot enjoy the physical sensations of the feel of my petticoats against myself.


Instead, I get the mental excitement of knowing that I’m enjoying being twirled, that my petticoats are “flying” and are raised as high as they may be able to go (affording those who may be peeking an “upskirt” view), and that I am enjoying a sensation which many women but few men ever get to appreciate.

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