The x-rated post

This is going to be an embarrassing blog. A little x-rated, too, if your mind turns in that sort of direction. Should I start to age-rate my posts? Nah.

But health warning, all the same, to those easily ick-ed by physical stuff. This may not be for you.

Anyway , this is a sort of catch-up, both for those who have expressed a certain… indecorous curiosity … about where I am up to with the hormones and the, you know, “doing it”. Also for those who have asked about stuff going on “down there”.

Oh, what wondrous euphemisms we reach for when we start to talk the s-word. Yep. S-E-X. What’s it feel like, Jane? Are you getting any? What effect do the hormones have? And so on.

To which I answer: peaceful, no, and joy… in that order.

There is definitely a certain incendiary quality to my new hormone-saturated self. I cry more, feel sadder, happier, wholler. Loads of comparatives. But I also feel very much more at peace. The rushing, the testosterone-fuelled drive that was once there is gone and… in its place a much calmer, more measured approach to the world.

I am loving closeness, intimacy and shopping and coffee. Especially the last two…and I am smiling as I think how clichéd that must sound…my preferring coffee with a girlfriend to hot girl-on-anything action. But there it is.

That probably part explains why I’m “not getting any” – though that, too, is a plus. I feel free of the previous masculine imperative to DO things to other people. I don’t need to any more. So I don’t – and that removes one major source of nagging discomfort from my life.

Too, I doubt that I could much any more. Six months of oestrogen leaves one somewhat deflated and – we are about to pass the point of no return – with some degree of tissue deterioration. Oh, how I love the US moral madge, who see this trans stuff as some sort of sexual kink. Funny sort of kink, that leaves you incapable of doing anything about it.

Not that that bothers at all. Because over everything is this growing sense of joy. I am looking ahead to the op…and to a new beginning, post-op. Like Christmas and birthday and anniversary rolled into one. I remain happy, happy, happy…and that feeling is growing all the time.

So. Is that it? Is nothing at all happening as regards the s-thing? Er, not quite. The new boobs got taken out for a test drive the other night. No. That’s all the detail you’re getting! 🙂

But omg! OMG!!!

Talk about rabbit in headlights time. They’re still sore from all the recent tissue changes. Not quite so painful, but sensitive…so, so sensitive.

No-one warned me quite how sensitive they can be! Suffice it to say that blokes really don’t know what they are missing; and just as well, too, or they’d ALL be wanting them. Let’s just say I lay back and thought patriotic thoughts, paralysed by the sheer intensity of feeling a simple touch could bring. Did I say omg?

Think I could happily spend an entire night being pampered that way. Only drawback…next morning, they were sore. Utterly, screamingly so. Twas followed by a day or two of tight vests and crop tops – and still I winced every time I bent over or stretched.

There is, it seems, a price to pay for over-indulgence. Still, it was worth it at the time…and hopefully the downside will get less down, whilst the up-side remains.

So there you have it. Ick-ed? Serves you right…cause that means you ignored the warning and read all the way thru.

And now you can all stop asking.

jane
xx

3 Responses so far »

  1. 1

    Lucy Melford said,

    Well, Jane, that was all quite decorously related!

    Not that I personally was going to get embarrassed about any talk concerning naughty bits, not when I’ve had a pre-op examination and have started laser treatment on the Hon. Member for Mid-Sussex! You tend to lose all inhibitions (and all last shreds of dignity) in the pre-op processes.

    Looking ahead, I can even imagine dilating while talking to another post-op friend, or demoing the session to an interested natal girl. I’m not sure about demoing to an interested natal boy, but hey ho, who can say how personal attitudes may change!

    Glad that your try-out proved worth the soreness next day.

    Lucy

  2. 2

    Big Kate said,

    can I just point out the blokes do have breasts – we all have breasts! I also know plenty of blokes who get significant enjoyment from their breasts and especially their nipples being played – right up to orgasm, albeit that’s from hearsay not personal experience. Hormones increase the size of your breasts and because the nerve endings are more diffuse that might make the experience better but they are the same nerve ending that were their prior to hormones kicking in. Obviously steroids (hormones) can change the experience of ones body but they are not the only thing at play, after all it is in ones mind that all these experiences are happening within

    • 3

      janefae said,

      Oh. I’m not going to argue with you, Kate. This blog isn’t about me claiming anything “is so”, so much as my putting out my own experiences for others to compare and contrast to. In some things, I am finding, my experiences seem to echo the experiences of thousands of trans women who have gone before me…which tells me that maybe there is some sort of pattern.

      Elsewhere, we seem to be different. But if my experience provides, in time, an echo for someone else, that feels like a job worth doing.

      Anyway. I agree that it is hard to tell what’s hormones, what’s “real, what’s “in the mind”: and there is always a pretty much unspoken caveat to anything I post along those lines. I think my experiences are “real”: but hell! How on earth would I know?

      The main thing I think I am trying to communicate, now that I’ve had a month or two to start getting used to them is first that boobs are a lot more complex than I ever realised: that they come with added extras like soreness, swelling and, I guess, loads of other stuff that cis women know about pretty much from puberty…but which blokes never quite realise.

      Second: that for whatever reason, intimacy involving them feels about twenty times nicer now than it ever did before. Psychosomatic? Maybe…but who cares.
      🙂

      jane
      xx


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