If Only...

If I were her girdle
Id hug my mistress hips and ass in nylon spandex squeeze.
Pull in her waist and mold her butt, a pert and perfect tease.

If I were her bra
Id hold her boobies firm and proud, uplifted and upright.
And, leaning forward, offer them, a daring down-shirt sight.

If I were her panty
Id kiss her soft and tender skin with satin, silk, and lace.
And hold the entrance to her cunt in intimate embrace.

If I were her stocking
Id know just how to strut and show myself beneath her skirt,
From painted toe to gartered hem. a shameless, slutty flirt.

If I were her lipstick.
Id paint her lips all full and ripe, a luscious cherry red.
And leave my mark on lovers cocks, red ring around the head.

Alas
I am neither bra nor slip, nor panty heels or hose.
But just a guy who loves to dress in sexy, girly clothes.
I dream about the girl Id be if that had been my fate,
As now in girdle, skirt, and heels I sit and masturbate.