"I'm heartily sick of hiding it all. I'm 54, I spent my youth confused and unhappy not understanding the feelings. I could talk to girls but didn't want to touch one, but my feelings towards boys back then were so taboo and dangerous I didn't know what to do.
As I got older and left school I went to college, I had several near misses with cute guys, I was chatting to them, it felt great and natural, I was happy and comfy around them, then my straight friends would panic over and save me from the "dangerous predatory gay". One poor lad got so badly warned off I ran after him, said I was sorry they'd done that to him, and I did want to go back to his room for a coffee, not even realising he probably had more in mind, but I wanted to go, he said I was too dangerous to know and walked off.
Back home I went out for a boozy night with friends, ended up back at my best friends house. We were in his room, he has this porn mag out, we were both shitfaced, and kneeling by the side of his bed looking at the magazine, it was a Private I recall, inside the back cover were little adverts for different things, in among them were some gay ads, he starts asking what do I think gays do together, I said the same as anyone else, kiss and cuddle and go from there except no female parts. He kept pressing, we were quite close, he kept pressing, so I said "Let's find out..." and leaned in and kissed him on the lips, for about 4.2 wonderful seconds he kissed me back, our tongues met, and then he sobered up so fucking quickly it was scary. He was angry and shouting and I beat a hasty retreat home crying, worried that he'd tell everyone, and I'd have been kicked the length and breadth of the city, being gay in Hull in 1984 or so was not easy.
He didn't thankfully, but I became scared of my own shadow. I was 20, stil a virgin because I had no interest in women, and men were too complicated and too scared to do anything.
So I hid from myself behind weight, who wants a fat cunt. Nobody, I threw myself into work, manly pursuits, anything to avoid my feelings.
When I was 25 I met a girl, but she was very tomboyish, so much so we went out, and secretly I was picking things for her to wear, and she was picking them for me. we went on for some time, sex was weird, we mostly had anal sex which I liked, the other I needed to go and wash quickly and stifle vomiting. But she had her issues, we split, she took up with another girl, I retreated back into my safety net of work and manly pursuits.
I was known as "the man's man", my friends imagined i lived this playboy life, their wives and girlfriends forbade them to associate with me because I was a bad influence and a womaniser, whereas in reality under my bike leathers I was in lingerie more ofter than not.
This lifestyle of denial and confusion went on until my best friend killed himself. It was very tragic, and it made me think, I was 35, I'd had all these feelings for years, I didn't want to die not knowing. It was the early days of the internet. So I arranged to meet a TV, after messing about one or two people I finally went through with it one Sunday morning. She came round, dressed, we chatted, we started kissing, and it was nice, actually it was really nice, and the groping was good, kissing down he body I found myself by a packed thong, I reached in and freed her from it, I'd never...my mind was awash with irrational fears about my mother walking in, the Pope and Dr Paisley walking in, a BBC camera crew, it being some giant Jeremy Beadle style wind-up, or being stricj dead by God on the spot, all that going on, but this cock in my hand, that felt really nice, so I kissed it. Which was good, so I licked it, which was really nice, and next thing I'm officially a cock sucker, and all of a sudden full or regret about not having done this years before, why had I denied myself this, it felt more natural than with a woman, I enjoyed it, she certainly was enjoying it. We had more fun until she had to leave.
Then the guilt kicked in. A couple of months later I met another really gorgeous TV, she was the single most depraved person I've met she was, still is I suspect, great. Much less guilt, plus we saw one another a few times. Another girl, next thing I'm dressing and I'm the bottom and then my world changed when she took me the first time. I dated a few TVs, and was finally becoming happy, but then I panicked, I felt pressured and compelled to do the family thing. next thing I know I'm in a registry office saying I do taking on a family.
To start with it was ok, she tolerated even enjoyed my dressing but increasingly I couldn't bear to touch her or be near her sexually, I fell ill, while struggling with that she started cheating, I knew but wouldn't face up to it. She tried to kill me once, three days in intensive care I pulled through. but the rot was terminal.
We split, I went into my shell again,and met another woman, she was better, but it still wasn't right, we didn't have sex much, which was a relief, but that ended when she re-joined a religious cult, seemingly so her kids could be abused. I abstained and went cold turkey on everything but work.
Work got out of hand, I worked mostly freelance, I started getting sacked for doing too much work, too quickly to too high a standard, under budget, ahead of time, the more they gave me the better I got. But the last one, tipped me over the edge, I went insane.
In 2014 I did something seriously stupid, I ended it, well i came bloody close. They gave me a choice, go of my own volition or be taken. i chose to go. When I left hospital a few month later it was explained to me I was effectively retired on health grounds. So now live quietly, while in hospital a certain Bank worked to rob me of everything, I ended up being evicted and losing my home, 23 years into a 25 year mortgage.
I was being looked after be social workers and a little house was found for me, I got a backdated payment from the DWP and got myself a pet for company.
I also decided when i was feeling stronger to make changes, I would dress because I want to and I enjoy it. Whether I look daft or not I don't care. Plus I'd start meeting people. and having fun, ideally looking to find someone special, almost impossible.
Mostly I've met men who are 15 minute cum and run merchants, they do my head in, see my profile for my rants on that. But I've also met nice people who've helped me come to terms with myself and let me enjoy sex guilt free, and helped me start to feel a little better about being me, I've lost a lot of weight, I am more confident when meeting people, and now the biggest change, I'm sick and tired of hiding from myself, of not being me.
I'm a cock sucking sissy faggot, I love being fucked, I love dressing and mincing about like a tart. I like cock I like being limp dick sissy with real men or other girls. I enjoy it. If anyone else doesn't like it, fuck em. I don't care anymore, so this is no longer my guilty secret, my guilty pleasure, it's me and it's what I want.
Also it turns out my biggest fear, my mother finding out, turns out she's always known. When the marriage was breaking up my ex wife threw it all in her face, my mother and sister burst out laughing, "after all the trannies he dated we were gobsmacked he married a woman, if you hadn't had kids already we'd have insisted on a test".
So that's it, from now on this is for me, I'll dress when I want, how I want, I'll see who I want when it's possible, and I'll enjoy it. If others don't like it, don't approve, are full of hate and ignorance, so what, that's their problem to deal with, I'm busy having fun and trying to be happy.
Apologies for the epic nature of this rant, I got into the flow and kept going. Maybe it might help others with how they feel, give you a good giggle, send you to sleep, or whatever else. That's your thing, this is mine."