Trans boy here. I'm constantly horny and want sex all the time. Since I'm average and can't get guys on the fly I masturbate a lot. At first, it was just a release, a way to quiet the constant buzzing under my skin. But now, it's almost a ritual. My hand knows the path better than any partner ever could. I've got a collection of toys hidden in a box under my bed, each one for a different mood, a different fantasy.
The loneliness of it hits sometimes, especially right after. Lying in a sticky, cooling bed, the only sound my own breathing. That's when the dysphoria creeps in, whispering that this is all I'll get. That my body is a puzzle nobody else wants to solve. But then the urge builds again, a persistent, demanding ache, and the logic fades. I close my eyes and slip back into a fantasy where I'm not just average, where I'm the one being pursued, the one someone can't get enough of. In my head, I'm everything I'm not in the real world. It's a sad, temporary fix, but for now, it's the only one I have.
The loneliness of it hits sometimes, especially right after. Lying in a sticky, cooling bed, the only sound my own breathing. That's when the dysphoria creeps in, whispering that this is all I'll get. That my body is a puzzle nobody else wants to solve. But then the urge builds again, a persistent, demanding ache, and the logic fades. I close my eyes and slip back into a fantasy where I'm not just average, where I'm the one being pursued, the one someone can't get enough of. In my head, I'm everything I'm not in the real world. It's a sad, temporary fix, but for now, it's the only one I have.
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SinParty
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