My Second Time as a Girl

Second Verse Same as the First-What to Wear

I had another date and presented as a girl. This time it was with a girl who was presenting as a girl.

In telling people about it, everyone asked what I’d wear. I found it a bit annoying. As if that was the defining characteristic of being a girl. And it wasn’t a fetish event; it was just a date. But somehow saying, “jeans and a T shirt” didn't feel like the right answer. I was going out to present as a girl! Do girls go out wearing just jeans and a T shirt?

Apparently not, based on the suggestions I received. OK, so many of the suggestions were from men on the site where I cam. I can’t really count those. Except that those men represent a certain heteronormative expectation of what a girl should be. (Or they are just a bunch of freaks.)

For example, one guy asked if I’d be wearing pantyhose. The date was on August 20, in Washington DC. It was 101 degrees in the shade. I don’t think any woman in the District was wearing pantyhose that day. So no, I would not be wearing pantyhose.

I bought a new pink tank top that was mesh in the back, in a floral pattern. With a new pink bra with white polka dots. And jeans.

Jeans? Really? On a day when you could smoke fish on the side walk? So I went through my skirts. Many of them aren’t street legal; they don’t cover my butt.

But before the date I started noticing skirt lengths a lot more. Women’s skirts are really short. Like, really short. Good lord. So I went back through my skirts and decided that many of them were acceptable.

But still I resisted the idea. As if wearing a skirt was the final step in presenting as a girl, but wearing jeans meant I could still claim a bit of my boyness. As if I might be pulled over by the gender police and I needed plausible denialability. “Officer, what do you mean I’m trying to present as a girl? I’m wearing jeans!”

Which I realized was ridiculous. If I was presenting as a girl, I was crossing that line whether I was wearing jeans or a skirt.

In the end I was just like everyone else. What would I wear? How short would my skirt be? How revealing my top? Apparently that’s what defines a girl; how much of her body she reveals.

I wore a skirt. Black, just about an inch above the knee. And pink high tops. (And no pantyhose.)

I wore make up, this time with eye shadow and some better concealer. I felt a bit better about my appearance. Did I pass “better”? I don’t know. I felt a bit better about it.

Stepping Back Outside

Once again I was terrified the moment I stepped outside. Like I’d entered an alien landscape and had to get to my car as fast as possible. But as soon as I was out of my neighborhood I relaxed.

A friend told me that most people don’t really care what other people wear; most people just want to be left alone. And another said that most people only notice things right in their face.

And sure enough, on the drive over no one even looked at me. I hit several stop lights as the lead car, with large numbers of people crossing the street. (Summer in DC brings lots of tourists.) But none of them even looked at my car. They were all consumed with their own lives.

I parked at my date’s house and stepped out of the car. No one on the street noticed me. It was completely uneventful. My date and I sat in her kitchen catching up. When one of her roommates came home my date leaned in and asked how I wanted to be introduced.

Yikes. I gave her my girl name and that was that. Her roommate smiled and said hi to me as a girl.

It felt really nice to meet someone as a girl. Or have them meet me as a girl. Like they were seeing the real me. Or a more authentic version of me. Or my presentation was more authentic.

When I meet people, especially girls, I spend a lot of time and energy to let them know I’m not like other guys. I have always felt it very important to get that across. It was nice to let my presentation speak for itself this one time.

And when I’ve spent time with guys, especially extremely heteronormative guys, it always makes me uncomfortable. Because it seems like there is always a moment when they look around the room and realize there are only “guys” in the room, so they can suddenly start saying their “guy bullshit” or start acting all “guy”. And it’s OK because everyone there is in on it, because we are all “guys”.

And I’m never sure exactly how to respond. I’d prefer them to know that I’m not one of them. Often, I’d prefer to just leave.

Getting Undressed

Anyway, that was about it for my girlness that day. We went up to her room and had sexynaughtyfuntimes. Which was wonderful. My wig didn’t last very long and my make up came off fairly quickly.

I didn’t feel like I had switched back to a boy. I just felt like I wasn’t wearing a wig or make up anymore.

After that we went out to dinner. I wore girl jeans and a boy T shirt. Was I a boy again? Was I still a girl?

I’ve heard some trans people say they have a male persona and a female persona. I’ve always maintained that I’m just me. But the last couple weeks I’ve been feeling more split. Like maybe I do have a male persona and a female persona and I want to be that female persona more. Not that I want to present as a girl more, but I want to inhabit that persona more.

Which smacked up against my older conception of myself. Was I changing? Was I wrong and now right? Or was something else going on?

Something Else May Be Going On

As I thought about it more I kept going back to meeting the roommate and her seeing me as a girl (or a transgirl at least). And it wasn’t that I was a different person (or persona) than if I had been wearing jeans and a T shirt. It was that she was seeing me as a different person.

People treat men and women differently. We have a different set of expectations, assumptions, preconceived notions. We even have different titles and colors.We all know that a man can say something and it means one thing and when a woman can say the same thing it can mean something different. We are all aware of these double standards.

So when I present as a girl, the set of assumptions people bring to me are different. And I have to react to them and play off them in a different manner than I would if I were presenting as a boy.

So it’s not that my personality is different when I present as a girl, it’s that I have to adjust my behavior as well as what I say and how I say it to effectively communicate my meaning.

I make it sound like I was off giving speeches as a girl. I think all I said to her was, “yes,” and maybe, “uh huh,” and possibly, “oh.”

But I was aware of those differences, that set of assumptions, and maybe feeling a bit paralyzed by them. But they feel like a better set of assumptions than the set of assumptions used for guys.

I’m still not sure I was meant to be a girl. Or want to present as one more often. Maybe I want to be something more in-between. The main thing is, I want to be me. And I’ve always found that a challenge in our society. But I don’t plan on moving, so I guess I need to figure this out.

My First Time as a Girl

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Throat Fucking

I seem to be getting dirtier and dirtier. I recently realized I really like sex when it gets messy. Very messy. Like, the kind of messy you get from throat fucking.

A couple weeks back I was at a play party, for the first time in months. Unfortunately, there wasn't much play going on.

It was a going away party for one of the honorary members of our triad. He's moving out to the west coast in a couple weeks. He was a real integral member of the local BDSM community. He will be sorely missed.

He rented a BDSM club for the party so we had the run of the place. The first time I'd been there was a year earlier when he rented it for his birthday. At that party he had had several party games, one of which was a contest to see who could deep throat the deepest.

I love taking things deep in my throat, and kind of get off on the gag reflex. So I thought I'd be a contender. But he used a night club and really, that's way to fat for me, and most of us.

I lost to a girl who could take over 10 inches. Which is quite impressive.

Later, another girl was using a dildo on her own throat, to see how deep she could take it. She was using a double-ended dildo and asked if I wanted to try it. Of course I said yes. She started fucking my face with the dildo. First just to the back of my mouth, but then deeper. I started gagging a lot, and shaking all over from it. Pretty soon I had to time my breathing to her thrusts.

We were sitting on a spanking bench in the middle of the club and soon everyone was watching. I didn't notice because I was staring at the ceiling, my mouth wide open, her dildo deep in me. She was calling me names and telling me to take it even deeper for her. I was gagging and groaning and begging for more.

Each time she pulled the dildo out more of my own spit dripped on my chin. After a while spit was dripping off me. She scooped it up and slapped my face with it, rubbing it on my cheeks. She called me a dirty girl as she rubbed it on my neck. I was still shaking and trembling, not quite believing what was happening. I knew I liked to gag, but I'd never produced so much spit, never shaken so much, never wanted so much more.

Once more she plunged the dildo down my throat and once more I gagged and choked. Then I felt a bit of my stomach come up. Wow. That was really disgusting and dirty and kind of hot. When she pulled the dildo out again I whispered, "I want to puke for you." Her eyes lit up and she rammed her hand to the back of my throat.

Her fingers rubbed around at the base of my tongue. I was jerking and straining, gagging very time her fingers moved in me. The feeling was overwhelming; it was all I could think of, all I was aware of. The world was her fingers and my throat.

Though a part of me was thinking, "Am I really doing this? Am I really opening my mouth in a room full of people so a girl can push her fingers into my throat? Am I really begging to puke for her? What does that even mean, to puke 'for her'? Is that something she wants me to beg for? And why would I even want such a thing? How disgusting am I?"

She kept this up for a while, but I never came close to puking again. I guess I'm just too good at gagging.

Eventually she stopped and I noticed all the people, sitting in a circle around us. Humiliating and hot! We went into the bathroom to clean up, where she told me how much she enjoyed it, but she wouldn't kiss me because my face was so messy and dirty.

I still find it kind of disgusting and disturbing, but I'm also watching a lot of spitting videos now. It's too much of a turn on to avoid.

Online Slavery Article

Eden Fantasys just posted another article of mine. This one is about my experiences as an online slave.

"I ended up the collared pet of a woman I never met, never talked to on the phone, saw on webcam only a handful of times, but communicated with almost daily. It’s not easy turning your life over to another person, and maybe not all that healthy. But its allure was as strong as any drug and I just couldn’t resist."

Read the rest here:

http://www.edenfantasys.com/sexis/sex/online-bdsm-0113101/

They Still Kill Trans People, Don't They

Today is the Transgender Day of Remembrance. A day set aside to memorialize those who were killed due to anti-transgender hatred or prejudice. It's sad that we have to have a day like this each year but we do.

Because they still kill trans people.

In my blog, and in my life, I try to celebrate gender variance. I love going on cam dressed up cute, in whatever gender presentation strikes my fancy that day. But I never show my face.

Because they still kill trans people.

I love going out to parties and conventions where I feel free, and safe, to present in any way I choose. I love flirting and chatting. People tell me I even have a different walk when I'm at an event. Which surprises me because I don't try to walk any different. At an event, the way I present just feels so "right." But before I leave I always change back into my "street" clothes.

Because they still kill trans people.

I'm beginning to realize I'd be a lot happier if I could present to the world who I really am. I'm sure I'd have a lot less anxiety and depression if I could dress as my actual gender. I'd feel so much more authentic and real if people saw me as my true gender (the gender I was born with, even if people thought I was a different gender). It's who I really am. But I don't dare show them.

Because they still kill trans people.

Don't worry, I have plenty of happy, flirty, sexy posts still to come. But once a year we all need to stop. And remember.

Because they still kill trans people.


There are many events around the country, and around the world. I hope you'll attend one. [http://www.transgenderdor.org/]

New Article on Polyamory

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No Apologies

In the summer of 1999 I seemingly had it all. I'd spent the previous 13 years playing by society's rules and was reaping its rewards. I was in a monogamous relationship. I was heteronormative and when my wife and I had sex it was bland, vanilla sex. I'd spent most of our relationship being a good husband, following her around the country for her career, and doing whatever I could to keep our relationships together. In fact, my wife and I had just put a down payment on a house in the suburbs, that's how mainstream I was.

Unfortunately, we were both miserable.

Years of trying to be someone I wasn't had taken its toll. I hated being straight and never flirting with anyone. I hated being traditionally male. I hated my job and I hated where I lived. And my wife was depressed, had anger issues, and fibromyalgia.

So ten years ago I quit my job, got divorced, and moved back to the East Coast. And started working on building a new life. A life where I present as the gender I was born to be and have the types of relationships that are right for me.

It's been a lot of hard work and I've had several missteps. I've learned a lot about ethical non-monogamy and the kinds of rules you need to have to stay healthy emotionally and physically. But they aren't the same rules that society told me to have.

Last month I moved in with my wife and our girlfriend. I also have a boyfriend and several play partners. And my partners have other partners. I no longer present as traditionally male, and often present as fairly femme. When I have sex it's the naughty, dirty, kinky kind that gets my partners and I off.

Many people tell me that all of this is doomed to fail. That this type of lifestyle, these kinds of relationships, this kind of gender presentation doesn't work out. That I'll end up alone and unloved.

Well you know what, I've tried it society's way and it didn't work out so well. There are no guarantees in this life. But at least this way, if I fail I'll know I failed on my own terms.

Now, I'm not hurting anyone. I'm not lying to anyone. I'm not manipulating anyone into doing things they don't want to do. I'm not breaking any laws. I'm treating everyone ethically and morally.

However, I may be making a few people uncomfortable by living my life the way I want. But for that have no apologies.