Richard the Second

I thought about that later, curled up under my eiderdown. I wanted someone's strong arms round me. I had the radio on, low, and it murmured to me from the night table. They were talking about some story about transgender issues. I didn't know what this one was about, but when I was living with Robert I thought the whole thing was sort of funny. But sometimes when he fucked me I wished I had boobs, and could feel the way I had seen women react to special touch.

I was a forty year old guy, and wishing I had tits. And if someone had talked to me as a young person about all this dizziness, I might have gone along. I am glad I still have my balls, and am not interested in changing things that can't be. But if the right trans gal had talked to me in the right way, I just might have been able to fuck myself upper even better than I have. I mean, it would so cool to have nipples that tingled with life. But didn't it just make sense to be gay and find the right guy? I had, and I fucked up.

But I have to confess, being Robert's woman was a pretty remarkable imitation of real, no shit intimacy. Best of my life. And that is how fucked up all this is. I would give about anything for a good, hard, stern fuck by a man I love. And then it occurred to me I could still go out to the clubs and maybe find a new one.

-Vicky