He’s a man. I can’t say that he’s not, because he is. But he wasn’t always a man. He’s not like other men, and I don’t mean in a metaphorical sense. I’m attracted to him, and he’s certainly masculine. Moreso than myself, I’d say. I was, at first, confused because like a lot of people my definition of “man” included the parts between his thighs. A friend helped me to understand that there are as many ways to have male genitalia as there are men in the world. When you think about the uniqueness of cocks, expanding your ideas of men to include transmen isn’t such a stretch – Especially since most transmen have cocks of one sort or another. Even in the absence of what amounts to a fleshy protrusion, there are so many other things that make up a man.
I love men, they interest me. I am sexually, emotionally, and psychologically fascinated by men. To see how they line up in groups or deviate as individuals. It always interests me to see what a partner thinks when we fuck. How does it feel when I give in like that, moan like this, pull him in tight, touch him softly. It’s not tricking him to make him think he’s in control because he’s on top. I can’t help that I’m curious.
To see what lays behind the feelings of attraction and fondness, understand what pulls me towards a man, these are some of my goals. Understanding myself by understanding how I love. Why I love.
