BeardedOne
05-11-2008, 02:24 AM
This has the makings of a blog post, so I will type it thusly. It also reeks of the 'Am I gay?' thread variety, so if you have tired of such wails and diatribes, just move along, there's nothing for you to see here.
Granted, there are various levels of 'bad', from the kid swiping a candy bar at the corner store to...let's say...Hitler. I like to think of myself as being around the candy-swiping level of 'bad'.
It's fairly common knowledge that I am bi/pan/omnisexual (If it's breathing, I'll tap it!). It's also pretty well known that am I fairly dick-centric. To paraphrase a character from the Showtime series, 'Queer As Folk': "I like cock. I like to look at it, hold it, have it in my mouth and ass!".
Yet, in all of this, I try to be understanding of the culture in which we dance, ie: T-gurls. I like to think of myself as well-read, reasonably intelligent, polite and considerate. I try to treat all that I talk to/post with to the level of respect they earn and deserve.
Then comes today...
I woke up to the alarm (A rare treat, as I am an insufferable insomniac), found that the power had blipped during the night and caused grief to the computer. I caged the carpet bomber (The indoor cat has stretched my patience beyond measure and now spends daylight hours behind bars) and fed the porch cats and set off for work.
The first signs that this would be an 'off' day were at the convenience store that I hit each morning. The toaster had died (No breakfast) and I forgot my usual coffee and landed at the counter with a couple that was literally playing the he-said-she-said duel at two-the-fucking-clock-in-the-gawddamned-morning. :x
Not being able to decide whether to slap him, her, or both of them, I paid my way and got out of there before shots were fired. Once in the car, I bit into the first hotdog of the day (The only ready food that was available as the toaster had crapped out) and got a piece of bone lodged between my front teeth (If you like hotdogs, don't EVER research what's actually in them).
Arrived at work late, broken machinery, flaming wrecks, panicked supervisors, shit rolls downhill and I was in the valley this morning. :(
I somehow get through the day and come home to a couple of nice Ladyboy69 vids (Thank you, JeeZUS!), and then settle down to what I pray will be about seventy-two hours of absolutely NOTHING.
But noooooooooooo......
I gotta go window shopping in Eros. :roll:
To my delight, I see a posting from a gurl that I'd fallen in lust with about a year ago, just via her posted pics. She'd dropped off the radar for a bit and I thought she'd gone home/been deported/retired.
People's tastes vary widely, and I expect some on the forums might consider this gurl somewhat 'masculine' in her features, but from the moment that I saw the first image of her I was hooked. Sharp features, fine hair, large, dark and expressive eyes that hypnotize you and a smile that dissolves all the bad from your day.
I'd fantasized about meeting/being with this gurl from the moment I saw her face. I was obsessed! To say that I was disappointed/depressed when she slipped off the map a few months ago is an understatement.
So...
I am gleefully noting her contact info from her Eros ad (Which is identical to the one she'd previously posted) when I come to a minor change in the text of the posting: "Post-op" :shock: Thus explaining her absence from the human race for the past few months.
While I am an admitted cock bandit, a freely confessed cockhound, I do understand and appreciate when a gurl wants/seeks/needs SRS, but this particular time I felt as though I had missed something, perhaps felt a bit cheated in having not had the chance to experience this gurl in her 'before' persona.
Don't get me wrong, I still hope to someday meet this gurl and get to know her (If for no more than to gaze upon her incredible face in person), but I see little beyond that. :(
Here I am, adoring (Perhaps even worshiping) her image when I discover that the 'T-clit' is gone and suddenly the feelings diminish (Though don't completely fade).
How do the gurls deal with that? Have you (Post-ops) ever had a boyfriend/lover ask you to don a strap-on for the evening's festivities? Have post-op gurls maintained relationships with men that they'd dated as their 'old selves'?
*Sigh* It's difficult to be understanding and supportive of someone when they eschew a piece of them that you appreciate as much as you love them. :?
Perhaps I need to find a recipe for quiche and paper the house in pink or lavender.
Granted, there are various levels of 'bad', from the kid swiping a candy bar at the corner store to...let's say...Hitler. I like to think of myself as being around the candy-swiping level of 'bad'.
It's fairly common knowledge that I am bi/pan/omnisexual (If it's breathing, I'll tap it!). It's also pretty well known that am I fairly dick-centric. To paraphrase a character from the Showtime series, 'Queer As Folk': "I like cock. I like to look at it, hold it, have it in my mouth and ass!".
Yet, in all of this, I try to be understanding of the culture in which we dance, ie: T-gurls. I like to think of myself as well-read, reasonably intelligent, polite and considerate. I try to treat all that I talk to/post with to the level of respect they earn and deserve.
Then comes today...
I woke up to the alarm (A rare treat, as I am an insufferable insomniac), found that the power had blipped during the night and caused grief to the computer. I caged the carpet bomber (The indoor cat has stretched my patience beyond measure and now spends daylight hours behind bars) and fed the porch cats and set off for work.
The first signs that this would be an 'off' day were at the convenience store that I hit each morning. The toaster had died (No breakfast) and I forgot my usual coffee and landed at the counter with a couple that was literally playing the he-said-she-said duel at two-the-fucking-clock-in-the-gawddamned-morning. :x
Not being able to decide whether to slap him, her, or both of them, I paid my way and got out of there before shots were fired. Once in the car, I bit into the first hotdog of the day (The only ready food that was available as the toaster had crapped out) and got a piece of bone lodged between my front teeth (If you like hotdogs, don't EVER research what's actually in them).
Arrived at work late, broken machinery, flaming wrecks, panicked supervisors, shit rolls downhill and I was in the valley this morning. :(
I somehow get through the day and come home to a couple of nice Ladyboy69 vids (Thank you, JeeZUS!), and then settle down to what I pray will be about seventy-two hours of absolutely NOTHING.
But noooooooooooo......
I gotta go window shopping in Eros. :roll:
To my delight, I see a posting from a gurl that I'd fallen in lust with about a year ago, just via her posted pics. She'd dropped off the radar for a bit and I thought she'd gone home/been deported/retired.
People's tastes vary widely, and I expect some on the forums might consider this gurl somewhat 'masculine' in her features, but from the moment that I saw the first image of her I was hooked. Sharp features, fine hair, large, dark and expressive eyes that hypnotize you and a smile that dissolves all the bad from your day.
I'd fantasized about meeting/being with this gurl from the moment I saw her face. I was obsessed! To say that I was disappointed/depressed when she slipped off the map a few months ago is an understatement.
So...
I am gleefully noting her contact info from her Eros ad (Which is identical to the one she'd previously posted) when I come to a minor change in the text of the posting: "Post-op" :shock: Thus explaining her absence from the human race for the past few months.
While I am an admitted cock bandit, a freely confessed cockhound, I do understand and appreciate when a gurl wants/seeks/needs SRS, but this particular time I felt as though I had missed something, perhaps felt a bit cheated in having not had the chance to experience this gurl in her 'before' persona.
Don't get me wrong, I still hope to someday meet this gurl and get to know her (If for no more than to gaze upon her incredible face in person), but I see little beyond that. :(
Here I am, adoring (Perhaps even worshiping) her image when I discover that the 'T-clit' is gone and suddenly the feelings diminish (Though don't completely fade).
How do the gurls deal with that? Have you (Post-ops) ever had a boyfriend/lover ask you to don a strap-on for the evening's festivities? Have post-op gurls maintained relationships with men that they'd dated as their 'old selves'?
*Sigh* It's difficult to be understanding and supportive of someone when they eschew a piece of them that you appreciate as much as you love them. :?
Perhaps I need to find a recipe for quiche and paper the house in pink or lavender.