MTF Swimwear

Trans Femme Summer: My Swimwear Discovery That Changed Everything

Before I discovered transformation swimwear, I thought I’d always have to choose between comfort and authenticity.

I’m a trans woman who’s proudly had breast augmentation surgery, and while I’ve considered bottom surgery, I’m still not sure it’s for me—maybe someday, maybe never. But I did know one thing: I wanted to feel confident and look completely female when I stepped into a swimsuit. I was tired of tucking. Tucking tape, tight gaffs, the discomfort, the anxiety—it all made the idea of poolside fun feel like a chore.

Then everything changed.

One evening while browsing a trans forum, someone mentioned MTF transformation swimwear—suits that didn’t just hide your bulge but actually used your anatomy to create the illusion of a vulva. That sounded like magic. I thought it was a joke. But no—it was real.

I clicked the link they shared: Koalaswim.com.

I couldn’t believe what I saw. These were not ordinary swimsuits. These were sculpted designs—clever, skin-tight, beautifully contoured swimsuits engineered for trans women like me. One category stood out: the camel toe enhancers. These suits had inner pouches and shaping panels that guided your penis into a flat, forward position, and with a few adjustments, they created the most realistic camel toe I’d ever seen without surgery or tucking.

I was skeptical. But I ordered one—the Feminizer Flying-V bikini, a shimmering pink micro-cut piece with a deep V-front.

The first time I put it on, I stood in front of the mirror… and gasped.

I looked completely female down there. No bulge. No awkward shaping. Just smooth curves and a sweet little camel toe that made me feel more feminine than I ever had before. I couldn’t stop staring. My hands trembled. For the first time, I saw me looking back—my real self.

When I stepped out by the pool at my condo for the first time in that bikini, my heart raced. I was nervous but excited.

The reactions?

My girlfriends who had known me through my entire transition were stunned. One of them even pulled me aside and whispered, “Wait… did you have surgery?!” I just smiled.

Then came the men. And oh, did they notice.

I wasn’t trying to seduce anyone, but I had never experienced so many flirtatious glances, casual hellos turning into full conversations, offers to buy me drinks, or help me adjust my umbrella. There was this tall guy named Julian—tan, funny, charming—and when he sat beside me on a lounge chair, I could feel his eyes tracing every inch of me. He made no effort to hide it, and I didn’t want him to.

I’m pansexual—I like who I like, regardless of gender—and I was surprised how much I enjoyed the male attention. Not just because it was validating, but because they truly saw me as a woman. Not a “trans woman,” not a “guy in a bikini”—but a sexy, confident woman with soft breasts, curvy hips, and yes, a convincing little camel toe peeking from a shimmering pink V.

It was liberating.

Since then, I’ve collected several styles: high-cut one-pieces, string bikinis, thong backs—each one designed for MTF bodies, each one making me feel beautiful and whole. And no more tucking. No more worrying.

Whether I’m lying by the pool or walking the beach, I carry myself differently now. I feel sexy. I feel free.

No surgery, no shame—just me and the perfect suit that lets me live as the woman I am.



Trans Femme Summer: Poolside Pleasure – Part 2

After that first poolside experience, I knew something had shifted inside me. Confidence. Desire. Freedom.

And it wasn’t just in my head—men noticed. Every time I slipped into one of my Koalaswim transformation bikinis, with that perfect little camel toe, something powerful happened. I wasn’t just presenting female. I was her. A walking fantasy. And some men didn’t even try to hide how badly they wanted me.

It was a warm Saturday afternoon when I wore my favorite piece—a fire-red Flying-V Micro Thong, the tiniest yet most revealing suit I owned. I loved the way the fabric hugged between my lips, so snug that the outline of my faux-vagina looked flawlessly natural. Even I forgot that I still had a penis tucked beneath that illusion.

I was lounging near the edge of the pool when Julian appeared again.

He stopped mid-step when he saw me, sunglasses sliding down his nose, eyes glued to my crotch. I watched his jaw tighten and his Adam’s apple bob. “Damn,” he muttered, his voice low and thick. “You look… amazing.”

I leaned back, arching my spine slightly, letting the micro bikini top push my breasts high. “Thanks,” I said, licking a drop of condensation from my cocktail glass.

He sat beside me, closer than last time. His hand brushed my thigh as he reached for his drink, then stayed there just a second too long. “So,” he said, his eyes roaming over me, “what’s your secret?”

I smiled wickedly. “Magic fabric. Feminizer bikini. Makes things… disappear.”

Julian leaned in, his voice a whisper. “You look like you have the sweetest little pussy I’ve ever seen.”

I felt my nipples tighten under the thin bikini. My body betrayed me, arousal blooming fast. I spread my legs slightly, just enough to tease, watching his eyes flick down between them.

“Wanna find out how real it feels?” I whispered, barely louder than the ripple of the pool.

The next thing I knew, we were sneaking into one of the cabanas behind the pool—curtained off, private, dimly lit by the sun slipping through the fabric. I sat down on the plush daybed, legs parted, and let him kneel between them.

His hands trembled as he ran his fingers up my thighs, stopping at the edge of the micro-V. He stared at the camel toe, mesmerized. “It looks… exactly like a pussy,” he said in awe.

I leaned forward, cupping his chin. “That’s the idea.”

He kissed it.

Right through the fabric.

My body shuddered.

The sensation—his lips, the warmth, the teasing pressure—shot through me like electricity. I wasn’t used to being touched this way, not there, but the friction, the illusion, the mental game of it all… it was hotter than anything I’d experienced before.

He kissed and licked, tracing the line of my suit, worshipping my femme shape like I was a goddess. I moaned softly, grabbing his hair, grinding ever so slightly. Every lick felt like confirmation that I was female, and every second of desire in his eyes fed the fire burning inside me.

Eventually, he looked up, breathless. “You’re driving me crazy,” he groaned.

I giggled and pulled him up for a deep kiss, letting him feel my soft breasts pressed against his chest. “Then don’t stop,” I whispered.

That afternoon, I discovered a truth: I didn’t need bottom surgery to feel like a woman. I didn’t need to change anything about my body—just the way I shaped it, presented it, and owned it.

And thanks to the transformation swimwear that gave me the perfect camel toe, I didn’t just feel like I had a pussy.

I used it like I did.