Teen Sissy Ass

Teen Sissy Ass




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Teen Sissy Ass
This article is more than 7 years old
This article is more than 7 years old
“Dorothy, please, a lady never admits her feet hurt.” Photograph: Photo by Thomas Anderson
Fri 31 Oct 2014 11.30 GMT Last modified on Wed 4 Nov 2015 17.11 GMT
Original reporting and incisive analysis, direct from the Guardian every morning
© 2022 Guardian News & Media Limited or its affiliated companies. All rights reserved. (modern)
Whether I was a pretty girl, an ugly boy or something in between, there was nothing funny about a man putting his hand up my dress
When I was 12, my dad bragged that, when he was a kid, boys that wore dresses were sissies, and sissies got beat up.
At the time, I was sitting in the passenger seat of his car outside my friend Mary’s Halloween party, wearing a black dress I borrowed from my stepmother and a long wig I bought at the Walmart down the street. My palms got sweaty and I tried to rub them dry on the dress, but it was some sort of polyester blend that resisted my efforts.
“If you’re so nervous going to this damn party dressed like a girl then why’d you do it?” my dad said. “I just don’t get you sometimes, but it’s your life.”
As he spoke, I imagined him in a dress – a pink one even – his nails glittery and his wig long and blond, in platform shoes and walking like a runway model.
“Son, are you listening to me?” he barked, interrupting my daze, and I looked at him in his golfing clothes, boring in his masculinity. I nodded.
I reached for the door handle, closed my eyes and stepped out into the world as a girl. “Thanks for the ride, Dad.”
I watched his car disappear into the evening and wondered if he thought I looked pretty.
Inside Mary’s garage, other teenage bodies moved awkwardly to music as various parents stood around, partly to judge the costume contest and partly to make sure we kept our dancing age-appropriate. But the only thing anyone wanted to talk about was how good I looked – how I made such a pretty girl. No one was rude or hateful about me being in drag, no one threatened to beat me for being “a sissy” – instead, my friends seemed enamored with how attractive I turned out.
And for the first time, I felt attractive.
As the night progressed, I found myself moving differently through the party – more feminine, hips swaying. I’d spent so long trying to copy how men were “supposed” to walk, but, for the first time, I was unashamed of my movements’ lack of masculinity. I felt more connected to my body than ever before – and a little bit like what I looked like matched how I sometimes felt.
And then, as I reached for a slice of pizza, I felt a hand go up the back up my leg, and I froze. The fingers slowly moved up my leg, under my dress and slithered towards my inner thigh. As they neared my crotch, I snapped out of it and turned to confront which ever classmate was fucking with me – but instead I saw one of the dads.
“You’re not a girl,” he blurted out, a Budweiser in his hand.
I said nothing as my insides pulsed with anger. I wasn’t even sure what to be the most mad about: that man sticking his nasty hand up my dress, the fact that he stopped once he realized that I wasn’t what he expected, or that I suddenly no longer felt pretty.
The dad walked away while I tried to decide, drunkenly laughing to himself.
I walked up to a friend as Mary’s mom shut off the music to announce the winner of the costume contest and said, “Some dude just tried to go up my dress. He thought I was a girl.” He began laughing hysterically, and I just stared. Whether I was a pretty girl, an ugly boy, or something in between, there was one thing I knew for certain in that moment: There was nothing funny about a man going up my dress.
“Our winner for the boys is Zach and his dress!” Mary’s mom yelled, and the room cheered.
My cell phone buzzed inside the right pocket of the shorts as if on cue: my dad was outside, early, waiting to drive me home. I hugged my friends goodbye, and they all made their last “you’re so pretty” comments. They landed on me like leaves falling from the trees that I couldn’t dodge and couldn’t pick off, and I headed down the driveway to my father.
“Have fun tonight?” my dad asked as he pulled away.
I thought for a moment about telling him that everyone thought I was pretty, about the fingers that had crawled up my leg and about winning for best costume, but I didn’t. It was all too connected to the dress, a dress my father didn’t want me to wear. Everything good and everything bad about the night felt like my fault for being the “sissy” my own father thought I was.
I said, “I don’t like wearing dresses”, and a smile spread across his face.

There are things in this world that you can never understand until you’ve had a penis inside of your anus. Lucky for us gay/bi men, there are quite a number of us who know exactly how that feels. Here are 15 things only bottoms understand. (And if you wanna know the struggle tops go through, head over here. )
Let’s start with the best part of anal play: prostate stimulation . The attempt to describe the sensation is utterly useless. The feeling is truly ineffable. It’s heavenly. Euphoric. Unlike any other bodily sensation we’ve ever experienced. Thank the gods for gently tucking that almond-size gland 3 inches inside of our behinds.
Bottoms are a dime a dozen. It seems like every gay guy out there is a bottom, and when you think you’ve met someone who’s definitely a top…nope. He too is a bottom. Just a very masculine bottom.
It’s quite the feeling, being unable to walk straight after being pounded. Your gait is off as you awkwardly limp more to one side.
Not all of us do it, but the ones who do know exactly what I’m talking about. It’s an interesting experience, to say the least.
YASSSS. When the man you love finishes inside you, there is nothing better in this world.
We each have our own method that we swear by: the soapy finger, a douche, Imodium, etc. But no matter how we clean, it’s always a process. And if you’re like me, 25 minutes after you clean, you always have to poop, and it’s a pain in the freakin’ ass. (Not the good kind.)
It’s such a quick transition, the pain to pleasure switch. Where it goes from you being too tight and it hurting, to you being just right and his penis feeling amazing.
It feels amazing when he finishes while he’s inside you, but it’s also incredible when you finish while he’s inside you. Your ejacuations feel stronger and more intense when you finish with someone inside of you.
Yeah, not something that tops really have to worry about. Bottoms, on the other hand, we get them quite often. Here are some tips to help you get rid of those pesky anal fissures if you’re having trouble.
Even after you clean extensively, you know that having a guy poke around down there might stir things up. And if we get too into our heads, we can’t enjoy the sex because we’re too concerned about our own cleanliness.
Your date suggests an Indian restaurant that he claims you will love. NOPE. Definitely not doing that. Thai? Absolutely not. Tops don’t have to worry about what they’re having for dinner on a date. Bottoms on the other hand? Yes, we need to plan accordingly.
The struggle is real. I’m of the belief that you can skip leg day if you really worked your glutes and quads during sex.
I know, I know. It’s not the end of the world. You can also have him go a second time, but sometimes, when you really want to get pounded for awhile and he orgasms very quickly, it can be a bit of a downer.
A switch goes off in your mind, and you turn from an unassuming, suit-wearing businessman, to a sexy AF pornstar. You start riding him like the beast you are.
All of those post-coital hormones flowing in your brain ( i.e. dopamine and oxytocin ). All of the hormones that make you feel SO. DAMN. GOOD.

Transgender girl says she is rejected by straight guys for 'having male parts'
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Claire looks for guys on the beach in Young, Trans and Looking for Love preview - BBC Three
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Young Claire is joined by Devon, Arin and Katie for BBC Three's Young, Trans and Looking for Love and give eye-opening accounts of rejection, bullying and suicide attempts
Transgender teens Claire, Devon, Arin and Katie have set out to expose the harsh reality of modern, teen relationships.
Appearing in a new BBC Three documentary , Young, Trans and Looking for Love, they let viewers see a glimpse of their lives as they struggle to find love.
The doc shows the moment Claire, from Virginia, meets a guy that she likes, only to be rejected by him as soon as he finds out she was born a boy.
In the video above, Claire takes to the beach in a bikini for the first time - having avoided the moment (and a bikini) since she transitioned to female nearly a year ago.
With the help of her friends, she builds up courage to speak to boys, saying: "I'm excited as there are a lot of cute guys out there."
"What kind of guys are you into?" the beach boys ask, as Claire replies about her ideal type, revealing "I like the guys who are really funny."
As the bikini-wearers find out the intentions of the boys, asking of they're "cute", the keen boys instantly reply with comments like "most definitely" and "gorgeous".
One boy even asks: "We should hook up sometimes."
Another says: "So I should put you in here [his phone] as 'beautiful'?"
The boys, who were originally attracted to Claire, did not call after finding out that she is trans.
"That's it, silence," says Claire. "Like nothing from them again."
Claire has also begun making social media diaries of her transition, sharing her experiences with transgender teens across the world.
Hoping on finding a boyfriend, she reveals that she doesn't like telling people the truth and is desperate for an operation.
She says: "In a lot of ways, I don't like telling a guy. Once I tell him all respect goes out of the window.
"Straight guys just can't get over you having the male parts.
"Once I've had or get the surgery, I think it will change a lot for me because right now if I meet a straight guy and he doesn't know - we can't get physical if I don't tell him.
"And then if he finds out, things just get so complicated, I can't even begin to explain."
It's not all doom and gloom as the programme reveals some success stories.
Arin Andrews has found love with Katie Hill and both look like they're the perfect teenage American couple in love.
They hang out together, see friends and go to the movies, but their love is one in a million - Arin was born a girl and Katie was born a boy. They are both transgender.
Arin began life as Emerald, a beauty pageant-winning little girl. The name on Katie's birth certificate was Luke, a boy obsessed with computer games. They met as they were transitioning genders and fell head over heels in love.
They've shared their love story online - posting videos charting their relationship, the physical changes they experience and the emotional rollercoaster of what it is to be transgender, from the lows of bullying, abuse and suicide attempts to their joy as they undergo hormone treatments and surgery.
Arin and Katie's story has inspired millions who have watched their videos online - they have become the poster boy and poster girl of the young trans community.
Meanwhile, Devon, an 18-year-old who has gone from girl to boy, looks up to Arin and takes comfort from knowing there's someone online going through the same challenges as him.
* Young, Trans and Looking for Love airs on Monday 23 November at 9pm on BBC Three
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Christine Leeb--Speaker and Christian Family Coach specializing in Parenting and Child Discipline. Founder of Real Life Families --a non-profit organization building better families through free classes and resources. Mother to three awesome (and exhausting) children from whom she shamefully hides brownies. Wife to one patient (and polar-opposite) husband with whom she constantly quotes "Friends". www.RealLifeFamilies.org 
'Her View From Home' is the Registered Trademark of Her View From Home, LLC
It was Day 3 of our honeymoon…dun…dun…dun! A day I will never forget. A day I learned what marriage was really about.
It was just three days after our big wedding, our “I Do’s,” our commitment to spend the rest of our lives together. For better or worse. In sickness and in health. 
My husband had no idea how quickly I would bank on those vows!
Day 1 and Day 2 of our honeymoon were filled with splashes in the pool, walks along the beach, sunset watching, giant bike riding in the ocean, and seeing each other at our best–our sexiest outfits, our most agreeable moods, and our most fun and adventurous spirits. 
On the evening of Day 2, we dined at a gorgeous beach side restaurant. We ate. We drank wine–all while gazing into each other’s eyes as the waves crashed on the shore nearby. It was so romantic. However, the next morning on day 3, I awoke to a gurgling stomach – churning – aching.
I knew that something was going to come out somewhere. It was just a matter of time. NOOOOOOOOOO! Not on my honeymoon!
I wanted to hide my pain. I wanted to pretend all was well so we could go snorkeling and continue being flirty and sexy and enjoying our fairy tale of love and romance and happiness and fun.
I was about to ruin it all with a reality check of “the runs.”
I couldn’t hide it any longer. I had to tell my husband of 3 days that I had the stomach bug. Every 20 minutes throughout the entire morning, I was running to the bathroom and then crawling back to bed. My sexy new spouse was right there. He was getting me sips of water. He was dabbing my sweaty head with a cool wash rag. He sat in a chair next to the bed as I groaned and complained – helping me – encouraging me – being there for me.
As the trips to the bathroom started winding down, all my strength and energy and modesty were gone. I simply quit putting my clothes back on. I quit caring that we were on our honeymoon. I quit caring that I was pooping every 20 minutes in our Honeymoon Suite right in front of my new forever man. I quit caring that I was a mess. I flopped over onto the bed falling face first into the pillows, and I hear my husband of less than 72 hour’s voice whisper to me….”Honey, you have some poop on your butt.”
And I thought I couldn’t feel worse. I didn’t care though. I couldn’t move. I just wanted to die of pain and now, of embarrassment. I was just lying there – hot, sweaty, stinky, naked – with poop on my sun-kissed butt.
Without saying another word, my brand new mate for life went into the bathroom, grabbed some toilet paper, sat next to me on the bed, and——-wiped my butt. Yes, he wiped my butt. Now that’s love!
This moment will forever be known as our “Welcome to Marriage Moment!”
I was mortified, but at the same time, I was given a gift. A gift to see that my husband was going to be there for me no matter what. That he was going to be someone I could laugh with, have romantic dinners with, walk on the beach with, and enjoy the good times with, but he was also going to be someone who would stay by my side when I was at my worst. And that’s what matters most in life and in marriage.
We still laugh together, even after almost 17 years of marriage, as we reflect on Day 3 of our honeymoon. We recognize how much Day 3 prepared us (especially for my husband) for what was to come. He has seen me even more vulnerable, at my most disgusting, at my very, very, very worst. He has been there for the birth via C-Section of our three children. He has been there for countless stomach bugs, flu bugs, cold bugs, and even depression bugs.
He’s been there–by my side–through it all. 
It hasn’t been easy. We’ve even been near divorce, but I’m so thankful that we both have been able to move forward, press on, and persevere through some really rough times, tough conversations, and painful moments. We have both grown and allowed God to shape us into the individuals and into the couple that we are today. Through our struggles, we’ve gained strength, wisdom, trust, and confidence in ourselves and in each other. Our marriage gets stronger with every year…with every day.
Even now, on Day 6,052 of our marriage, the honeymoon is well over, but we continue to celebrate those moments throughout our lives that have brought us closer together – more committed to one another – forever. Best friends by each other’s side no matter what comes our way – poopy butts and all!
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