NSFW: sex sex sex sex sex sex

I’ve been meaning to write this for a while and not finding the time. The last month I’ve gotten more sexual again, I think stressors went down enough to let me. I feel desire for desire on some level, and am casually enjoying playfully aiming for it. I think I was even a little disappointed when a date did not end with me getting laid, where I had thought I would. I’m crushing (surprisingly strongly) and I want to be explored and touched and observed, I want to be held and handled and I want to be smiling and cheeky and full of feeling as I tease and torture. I updated my fetlife profile even.

At the same time it is really really unappealing to think of anyone seeing directly the malformed parts between my legs. I can’t even name them comfortably, not on myself. There are exceptions for some people but I remain in high vigilance mode as it happens, when I was recently licked for example, I enjoyed and wanted it, but I couldn’t stop being watchful. Through clothes is OK, I enjoyed pressing myself against someone, or having a vibrator against me.

I want to come, I want that release. But there’s still fluid when I do. Transparent, yellow-reddish, sticky. Not so much, but still there. I can hope it would get less. I’d be happy being wet like a cis girl, even squirt like some, but I cannot reparse my fluids to that, and I deeply loathe the point at which receiving turns into cleanup. I learned I can come when tucked, with a magic wand against me; it was harder than I thought (though this was mostly experimentation to check I still could, so not in super sexy mode – I scrambled for fantasies and ended up thinking of how it would be like to have my vagina penetrated, that worked finally).

I fetishize cum in itself, I would want it on me and on those I make sex happen to, but I don’t want it to be mine. I hope (and believe) if my genitals had the right shape and lack of tumescence, I wouldn’t mind this fluid. It could drip from the hands of someone who had just fingered me and it would be fine, I’d be fine with wet panties and a wet spot if I felt the right shape of my parts against it, I’d be fine being seen with the right parts. I’d love to be licked like that.

I want this so much, I realize. And despite the longing, trying for it where I am now remains a matter of careful workarounds and ersatzes. I’d feel unsafe otherwise. This state, then, makes me feel some sort of affinity to stone butches (some of whom presumably are trans men), who have sex but do not want to be genitally touched. I no longer feel I appropriate by saying so, though I do acknowledge their direction as opposite to mine.

I should get SRS, shouldn’t I? I still have troubles wrapping my head around the want. I feel like I am deciding, like I know that I have decided somehow, that the timer is already counting down. It was two years from when I first decided (?), less now. I want a healed and functional vagina before I am 40. It feels scary and weird to type it. I’m preparing for it, a lot of things I do seem to be work towards it. I need to get the money – saving up something like 18K if I want to go for Chettawut and have extensive margins; not yet sure how I will do that. I’ll schedule and undergo electrolysis with that explicitly for that purpose. These things I know. I’ll continue to sculpt away bodily masculinity traces, reshape myself more, and I’ll get my legal sex change and voice work done within this time span also. I sense I will do these things.

I can also sense me going through with it, stepping into the flow of events for surgery and recovery. That sense has a shocked numbness from fear too, of pain, of complications, of not knowing how to get all the aftercare right. It’s the fear of wounds, of having surfaces where it is possible for me to do wrong, or for things to go wrong. But I feel also some sort of headiness when imaging it. I am beginning to imagine the feel of rush of will, of agency. I can somehow feel how I would feel in the moments of acting on the decision. I think I can feel how I would react, contain and mindful away the fear, be still and scared and still acting as normal despite the fear. I am familiar with how that feels for me. I’ve practiced a long time now.

So what else can I feel? The tucking project worked, I now know what it is like not to protrude. It feels right, it feels safe, it feels contained. I want that. I feel now the shape of my crotch as it would be, mounded but otherwise flat. It’s numb though, I have no lips yet, no insides, no knowledge of that. It’s like I have only the sketch, the draft, and it still goes stiff where it should not. Could I change that? That’s the point, I guess. Can I already now work up to feeling insides? Maybe. I’d need to try inguinal canal sex, maybe other sorts of touch in between what my outer labia would be. Still incomplete, but I hope maybe some of my loved ones will end up doing me like that. I think perhaps I’ll ask them to.

So… yeah. The trajectory is here. I’m working towards it. Steps on that route will also involve documentation, preparing my family, ensuring competence is in place for when I will be on leave, ensuring my house has an elevator by then. Getting in the best shape I can. In every one of these regards I act in a motivated manner to make it happen. Looks like I plan for having non-penile inversion vaginoplasty by latest 2020.