The Masturbational

I love it that I can shift between masculine and feminine partners.

It's not just about having options; it's about having access to different versions of myself. When I'm with a man, with someone solid and hairy and deep-voiced, a part of me that I keep dormant most of the time comes alive. I find myself wanting to be smaller, to be held, to feel the delicious contrast of his strength against my softness. It's a primal, grounding feeling. I get to explore a traditional femininity not as a requirement, but as a choice, as a role I can slip into and enjoy. The scratch of his stubble, the way his hands engulf mine—it's a feeling of being completely, deliciously overtaken.

But then, the next week, I might be with a woman. And with her, a completely different side of me emerges. It's not about being overtaken; it's about meeting. It's about a softer, more intuitive connection. I find myself admiring the curve of her hip, the scent of her perfume, the delicate way she touches my face. With her, I can be the strong one, or we can be equals in a way that doesn't feel like a performance of power. There's a shared understanding in our bodies, a mirror that reflects a different kind of desire. It's less about force and more about resonance, like two instruments tuned to the same key.

The true beauty, though, is that neither version of me is fake. The part of me that wants to be held and the part of me that wants to hold are both real. Shifting between partners doesn't mean I'm playing a part; it means I'm unlocking different doors within myself. One person lets me explore my softness, the other lets me explore my strength. I don't have to choose. I don't have to be just one thing. I can be a whirlwind of contradictions, and there's always someone who desires the version I am on any given day. It's the ultimate freedom.