#this uh almost made me cry
“I arrive at Justin’s door with my packer in my pants and my eyes watery with a combination of fear, relief and anger. Justin holds me and feels my cock, through my pants, against his thigh. “Did you wear that hoping I’d notice it,” he asks a little coyly, as if this is a new role play I’m introducing to our sex life. “No. This isn’t a game I’m playing with you. This is for me.” That night Justin and I make love. He lies on his stomach and I push my soft packing cock all over his body: up and down his spine, into the soft patch of fur between his shoulder blades, between his ass cheeks. Each moment is distinct and each moment blurs. At one point Justin is facing me. At one point I pull the tip of my soft cock out of the waistband of my boxers and touch the head of his cock with the head of mine. His cock’s pigment is darker than mine. My cock’s close to the same pale pink as my skin. Other than that, our cocks look the same. That’s when I realize that this packing cock, and my strap-on for that matter, aren’t sex toys to me. This cock is my animal body. This cock is my body. All the blood drains out of my brain and flows directly into my swollen cunt. My mind is so quiet that you could hear a pin drop in my skull. I’m out of my head and in my body. It’s a spiritual turn-on, and a point of clarity, to really see yourself for who you are. I eat Justin’s ass for a long time that night. I’m all top and he’s all bottom, not because I’m dominating him, but because I have a lot more to give; all he needs to do is receive. I have a lot to give, a lot I want to give: more physical energy, more sexual confidence to pour into my lover. I feel existentially whole in a way I hardly ever do.”— Katie Sly, “The question of my trans-ness has a complicated answer” (via newsmutproject)
Some parts of the article that I liked even more than the above part:
“I want you to bring your harness,” Kyle texts me. He means my black, dandy, patent leather daddy strap-on harness. I appreciate the request though Kyle didn’t need to ask for it: aside from our first date, I’ve had my harness and my erect fuck-cock in my backpack every time I’ve seen him.I’ve been waiting to fuck him since I bent him over his couch and humped his perfect ass on our first date. I tell Kyle all of this, and while it’s new information, he registers zero surprise.“It’s my body. I bring my body when I see you,” I tell him.“Makes sense to me,” he says nonchalantly.….
The first time Kyle sees me with my chest bound and wearing my packer in my pants in public, he has the same nonchalance about it. My gender expression is respected, and it’s also a non-topic. He hugs me, and tells me he is exasperated about some engineering work thing from his day.He wraps his arm around my back the way he always does, tickles my ribs the way he always does, and we talk about how good his pout-pink eyeshadow looks as we walk down the street.….
My gender is not his fetish, and I’m not his ticket to a new world, mystique or radicalism. He never ascribes aspects of my personality to my gender. I never interrogate his pronouns against the fact that he’s happiest when he’s puttering around his loft in jersey dresses that belong in the pages of Seventeen magazine.On the odd occasion that folks check in with Kyle about what his pronouns are, he answers, “He and him is fine, but I’m femme AF.” He tells others to use my pronouns, and when they fail to, he enforces it. And, when we’re alone together, Kyle is just Kyle. I’m just me.….
A while ago a longtime friend (who has witnessed me move from using she/her pronouns to them/they) asked me if I now identified as trans. I told her it’s a complicated answer.For so many of the trans people around me, there’s a trajectory. A plan. A sequence of action. Hormone replacement therapy. Top-surgery. Hysterectomy. Maybe bottom surgery. I have deep reverence for that process, the expense, the physical impact that all surgery carries. That process is also not something I’m sure I want for myself.“It’s not F to M, it’s F to something else entirely.”
