Feb 19
There's nothing I want more at the end of a long day where I accidentally wore my binder for too long than a hot transmasc person pinning me down and stripping me off of my binder, covering every inch of skin they're exposing with kisses.
I would hear the same lecture again about that I need to be more careful and stop abusing my binder too much as their hands massage my chest, relieving my aching ribs and squeezing moans out of me because it just feels so good.
They would tell me I don't need the binder to be a man, I'm already their fag, and remind me what a handsome guy they think I am.
And I could just melt in their arms, to exhausted to do anything even if I wanted to, and I will let my lover to take care of me.