OBLIVIOUS

Now that is a condition that I have been accused of embracing and it would explain alot. After all it is reasonable to ask someone to get their sexual preferences straight (or not) before they slip into a senescent state. I am not sure that I am going to make it however. Dont Ask? Don't Tell? How about Don't Know. I have enjoyed the company of t-girls mostly the last couple of years. And t-girls are generally somewhere between boys and girls and some, when they take their clothes off are more boys than girls. It has been a great revelation to me since I started dressing more publically that right from day one, i was willing to be intimate with t-girls, and over time the great revelation has been that I dont mind the boy in the girl. This weekend at a bar hanging out with a friend. We were talking with a gay man my age, about t-girls and what our sexuality was. I was trying to explain that it was complicated. He had a simple rule for gay. He asked what was the last time you sucked cock. well... darn... what a question... 3 hours I said.. and that seemed to take care of the complexities for him. He appeared to be oblivious to the subtleties.

Oblivious.... I have also begun to wonder about forgetting. I find myself increasingly forgetful mostly about names... and names... well I was always oblivious... only now do I have the social smarts to realize that is makes sense to make a point of remembering names... People like when you remember their name. If you live long enough, and get far enough away from your youth, you realize that a whole bunch of it is forgotten or never thought of. Where do those summer days of baseball, and ring alevio and monopoly go when they are never thought of, and when thought of.. how have they all merged into an indistinct something. Imagine if we lived 10 or 100 times longer than we do. Would we essentially be totally disconnected from childhood, unable to remember the least thing? Or is it all lurking there.. (where?) waiting for that silly little sliver of moving consciousness we call ME. to get around to visiting.

Now this gentleman spent a lot of time thinking about the problem.

Buddhism in my understanding says let it go... let everything go... the problem is clinging.. holding on. Oblivion is the great ocean of the eternal.

Jump honey... Mama will catch you. Unless I forget there should be a part two.

You can't blame us

" We didn't know who we were til we got here. We thought we were something else"

Robert Stone in Dog Soldiers

As a heterosexual man with a bit of a fetish for girls stuff, when I go to bed at night and remove my clothes including my girl stuff, and find myself hugging my diminutive but nonetheless very real breasts, and missing my latest bed companion who in the last couple of years has always revealed a little something extra underneath when she takes down her panties. I gotta say to Mr Stone... Wow... too true!

He was talking about Vietnam and unpleasant revelations of self. Me .. well.. I am not so horrified by what I have become so much as .... chagrined. I mean Whats up with that? It's one thing to always be the last to know, when we are talking about where the party is. But to be so ... shall we say mis-informed about one's true self... well that can be a little chagrin-ing.

I recently was delighted to see that Bea, the Raymond Chandler of feminization fantasies has begun a blog, and re-established a central place for her stories.

I am of the age and type where stories.. vividly rendered sexual fantasies, were important in satisfying the needs that remained unfulfilled when i pursued my normal boy loves girl dating life. Miss Bea didn't write those stories like Miss High Heels! but later when I came upon her wonderful stories I found myself returning to them again and again... A vivid fantasy reveals something of who we are I suppose, and so those stories of males..slowly but inevitably feminized by wonderful dominant Women were mirrors to reveal to me a hungry boy with aching loins looking at a dim refliection of what? Or perhaps I am just going on as I will.

For sissy boys like me, those stories were hot hot hot.

But don't take my word for it. If your taste runs to forced fem, well put on a clean pair of panties and maybe a pad dear.

http://magselectronics.com/

Try Maid Machiavelli. Imagine if you were David! Would his delicious fate be your own?

Or are you something else?