The Masturbational

It’s hard to find a space where I don’t feel like I’m sticking out like a sore thumb, but in that room, the lines blur enough that I can just exist. It’s a group thing, which sounds like it would be overwhelming, but there’s something about the collective energy that actually lets me detach from the gender binary completely.

When I’m alone with one person, I feel like I have to explain my body or choose a role—am I acting like a man right now, or a woman? But here, surrounded by other people touching themselves, the focus isn't on what’s between my legs or how I present. It’s just on the sensation.

I strip down, and I don’t feel judged for not fitting into the boxes people usually put me in. I’m just another body in the circle. I can touch myself in a way that doesn't have to subscribe to "male" or "female" patterns of pleasure. I don't have to perform masculinity, and I don't have to perform femininity. I can just be this fluid, undefined entity chasing a release.

Watching others, hearing the sounds they make, it helps ground me in the moment. I feel the heat rising, and it’s not about being a "good husband" or a "dirty girl" or any of the labels that usually weigh on me. It’s just pure, unfiltered sensation. When I cum, it’s like my brain finally shuts up about identity and just lets me feel good. It’s the only time the dysphoria, or the confusion, or the pressure, just melts away, and I'm just me.