Squirming. That feels the politest way to put it. Though not, for the benefit of any passing psychs, in any sort of sexual way.
Well, not exactly sexual!
As the op date draws nearer – since, in fact, I knew that I had a green light, that I was on the final run before landing, that I could start the countdown to srs – I’ve started to image.
Is that the right word? Sense, maybe? Anyway, its stronger than just imagine.
I’ve gone to sleep feeling how it might feel. I’ve woken up, thighs pressed together, just letting the idea of how it might soon be fill my head.
Its incredible! Definitely not sexual in the wow! flash! Horny! Sense of the word. Just a feeling of rightness, niceness, at-oneness that leaves me buzzing gently with delight.
Like my boobs…they definitely have an erotic use. But that’s not the best bit about them. The best bit, by far, is just that they’re there: that I feel them when I roll over in bed, or when I move my body around just a little too fast to accommodate my new shape.
They make me feel right.
In a way that the srs will – but ten times over.
I can’t wait! I want it NOW!