Literally a Faggot

I'm best friends with your daughter. You've always hated that fact, not because I'm a bad influence on her though. I'm quiet and polite, unlike her, who is a bit of a slut and a bad girl all around. No, you hate when I come around because you can't control yourself. Every time you look at me, you can't help but wonder what I would look like on my knees in front of you, or even better yet, underneath you.

You had hoped that when I shyly admitted to wanting to transition, that those feelings would go away. Yet, you're still lusting after my body even as it gets more masculine, because you know what is hiding under my boxers. You know the sweet little hole I desperately try to hide.

Your daughter is more than aware of your little crush. She thinks you're a pervert, but... she also hopes she can use this to her advantage, blackmail you into letting her do whatever she wants so long as she keeps bringing me around. Every sleepover, she keeps insisting on stranger and stranger games. Dress up with lingerie I know she did not own before. Strip poker with just the two of us. Games where the loser has to share what kind of porn they get off to, and we watch part of it together. I've never had friends before, so I assume it's all normal. I'm too shy to tell her to stop.

One night we're by the pool, her in a skimpy bikini and me in swimming trunks and a loose t-shirt. I set at the edge as she swims around, though her gaze is locked in you through the kitchen window. She winks at you, before pulling me into the pool. I yelp, scrambling out of the water. The wet t-shirt now clings to my body, to my rock hard nipples, to the curves I've been hiding to desperately. She apologises, and I'm too naive to realise its a lie. She tells me to just take it off, she's seen me naked before, we're just friends, right? No harm in it. We can lay it in the sun to dry. She's slid my top off before I can even respond, not so subtly turning me towards the window. You get a perfect view of my body as she caresses me, teasing me about the curves I hide.

How is a boy supposed to live, laugh, love in these conditions when he gets the most aggressive gender envy from obnoxious frat guys, but nobody other than him seems to want to sexualize the concept?

What's more masculine than a sleazy, rowdy frat bro? Even better if it's the toxic stereotype-y kind.

I'm so fucking horny about frat guys it's not even funny, I get so hard when one of my friends says I dress like one. Best compliment ever was this past weekend when I got told I sound like "a frat boy whose whole personality is that he doesn't make his whole personality about being a frat boy". Like akskdj wdym I sound like my transition goals????

Younger trans guy (20 something) helping an older man (40s minimum) come to terms with who he is. So many older trans people help younger ones, which is beautiful and wonderful, but older people who discover late or think they're beyond hope deserve a younger, bright, determined guide to show them just how manly they are. Build-a-dad, if you will. Doesn't have to be erotic, but can be.

The idea of turning this sad, washed up 'woman' drowning in a lifetime spent performing femininity into a vibrant, strong, self-confident silver fox man is just compelling to me.

Oh wow that hit hard !

When you're the first trans person older peoples meet, you hear a lot.

man up

the fuck you're yelling for it's literally just a hunting knife

you're actually getting off on this?

stop fucking crying bitch