#psychosexthoughts

[psychosexualfemme]

15-16 March 2026

I thought about what it would feel like, to cup your face in my hands and stroke my thumbs over your brows, across your cheekbones… down to your mouth, where I’d kiss you. Again. Again. Again. Your plush bottom lip, dusky brown like the warmest cocoa. The corners of your heartwrenching shy smile.

I’d set down the lecture I said I was going to finish last night and looked at you for a good several hours, turning over the visions of where I’d kiss you.

Every time I confessed a thought or a feeling, you covered that startlingly handsome face with your hands, your arms. Moaning my name in surrender.

I wonder what it would be like to worship you, to bring you to your pleasure, while I shower you with praise and adoration. Would you bury your face in a pillow for me, as I coo and keep your thighs spread open for my consumption?

You asked me what I’d do if you kissed me at the airport and I trembled with a tender pain.

I confessed something that wrecked me with a strange mix of self-criticism, embarrassment, but also awe and pride that I could be so emotionally-activated by someone so divine. Sometimes I look at you and I am overwhelmed with my emotions. Sometimes I think of you and my thoughts of you have set upon me with a surge of pain that brings tears to my eyes; you are beautiful, my sweet prince.

Heart-tender. 心疼。

I was asleep as you watched over me. And I dreamt of drowsing, tucked against you, to place a hand on your hip, stroking my fingers over your pillowy belly, following the trail of dark hairs just above the waistband of your boxers.

[psychosexualfemme]

Her rolling one and sealing it, is the hottest thing… I asked her to do it again, closer to the camera. The way she licks and uses her mouth on that is art in itself. Also I wasn’t wearing pants just my boxers and they saw apparently (HOW THE— I wonder what they saw 🤓), I showed them my bellybutton. I couldn’t stop smiling the whole time, she’s the most beautiful person in the world.

[psychosexualfemme]

Came six times to the thought of her in 2 hrs then slept like a babe

[psychosexualfemme]

10 March 2026 1:40 AM

“I want to get you something too…”

MAIL ME YOUR BOXERS. EXPRESS SHIPPING.

[psychosexualfemme]

10 March 2026 1AM

In the dark, I can let myself tear up thinking about you yesterday and the day before that and the one before that too. I can squeeze my body pillow and bury my face in it and pretend it’s you. My heart is so tender, and yes this is why I named that playlist “心疼 heart-tender”.

I miss you so much. It is an unfamiliar pull to me, like something of mine goes away with you every time you hang-up, but I don’t realise it until days later. I wanted to make sure it wasn’t hormones or. you know. something abnormal. Our passing messages and voice notes weren’t enough for me, I missed you even as you say my name, even as you gift your attention to me. I didn’t tell you for days, even though I ached to talk with you.

I was cautious in case you might think I was being clingy and that might chase you away, and that’s so weird because I almost never think this way about myself—I’m typically distant and preoccupied to a fault. I thought I just need to just throw myself into my other activities and my schedule is already quite packed—but my thoughts kept drifting to you. Even when I went out on the weekend to party and dance and meet new folks, I could only think of you and I told you this too.

7th March 2026 4:15 AM: there was a point during the night it got a little frigid and I had this sudden craving to know what it would be like to press up against you or hide in your jacket that smells like you in the middle of winter or to share dessert and drinks with you and get so buzzed and so warm in my cheeks and my skin🧍🏻‍♀️in my head I was gonna come home and tell you that immediately because it made me ache so bad

I didn’t tell you that the femme there was flirting with me a lot and I didn’t entertain it of course, but it did make me want you and think of you and what it would be like to go out with you. God I wanted you, only you. Baby, baby, baby, I melted into a puddle when you told me the other day that you want me. BABY, it’s not even sex, do you understand? I mean yes, I want that too, but I want so much more to just contribute to and share in your happiness, in your glow, in your excitement and whatever lifts your spirits. I like us. I like how I feel around you. Doing things with you and your philosophy of kindness in mind even though you’re not there. Your thoughts and your journey with yourself and your culture is beautiful and admirable, your views are similar to mine but you also have your own differences that inspire me to hold my horses and reflect.

I don’t understand it. I feel so attached to you in a way that startles me. I don’t want to tell you that. In the last couple of days I’ve typed up a message 20 times now to tell you how much I miss you, how much I want to talk to you. I took two days to even think up of how to ask you casually if we can talk. And today when we finally called again after just 1 week, I immediately blurted out that I missed you so much. I nearly sobbed with relief when I heard your voice again.

I bought you some things, I’m worried you might realise how much they cost because they might put the damn receipt in the delivery. You kept thanking me and offered to buy me something too but I… I didn’t want your thanks or reciprocation. I don’t want anything back. I did it because I care about you. Because I want you to be well. I ask of my gods and ancestors to never make you feel indebted to me, never feel obligated to me. Just be well.

We don’t even have to talk. I just want to know you’re on the other side of the line, listening to me breathe and live and exist, and vice versa. I want to fall asleep with you on the line.

When you told me you had to go to sleep I wanted to ask if you might take me with you, so I can hear you snore. Fuck I don’t care that it’s weird, I care that you might not want me so close.

But it doesn’t feel destabilising you know? It feels right that I’m pulled to you, you feel right to me. You feel warm to me. Did you know you’re the first non-family person who I go makeup-less around and still feel femme and human? With others, I present masc or just—some desexed person because that’s how I’m treated when I don’t dress up.

Maybe you represent a sense of comfort to me, the comfort of being at home and not worrying about being perceived as comfortable. Which is weird, this makes me realise how much I don’t let people perceive me as comfortable. I’m always so rigid and discontent and holding myself together at every second.

Baby. You’re my woman. You’re my boy.

[psychosexualfemme]

11 February 2026:

The first week we’d begun talking, between the sharing about our families (you tight-lipped, and me—everything all at once) and sharing pictures of flowers from my backyard. I told you a daydream I had about you.

…I’d play with your hair, talk with you—anywhere that takes us. And when the pauses grow longer, and our voices grow quieter, we’d settle into a comfortable silence. Then I’d trace your closed eyelids and your beautiful eyelashes, stroke the nape of your neck down your spine with my fingers. Take your hand in mine. Brush my lips against your palms, your wrist, your jaw... and meet your perfect sweet mouth there.

You told me it reminds you of a fantasy you had before. Thinking back, I almost felt a twinge of—jealousy? It was tiny. No seriously it was nothing noteworthy, it was barely even real. I’d wondered if I had made an impact. Back then I was worried I think, that I wasn’t memorable enough. That I wasn’t affectative enough. You were hard to read.

Mostly, I felt curious. I hesitate to say I even felt—like it was fated. Like something spun in my subconscious shared a thread with yours. You told me:

We're laying in bed. I'm awake but my eyes are closed and she's on top of me, tracing my features with her fingers; tracing my tattoos. As I'm opening my eyes, she places a soft kiss on my lips

She. I wanted to be her. I wasn’t sure if you had a specific face or name in mind when the fantasy had breathed its first breath, but I wanted time to be fair. I wanted time to wound back up and turn her into me. But I couldn’t do that. It was a bit silly, a little overzealous considering we’d just met. I look at your pictures every other night.

I don’t let my feelings be known. They’re too small to matter. Instead I tell you;

Reading that gives me such warm feelings, so much gentleness and well-deserved attention to shower you with. Being on top of you would be such a dreamy view too. Kissing you as though you were in a fairytale, to break the spell and wake you up.

With some matter of insistence. Some self-absorbed push into your fantasy, to stake an ambitious claim on it, to make it mine—ours. Has it worked, baby? Are your thoughts mine now? Are your fantasies, ours?

[psychosexualfemme]

I want to feel the soft plushness of your mouth on my neck, my collarbone, my nipples. I want to taste the ash of your last cigarette when you emboss kisses on my parted lips and your wet tongue slides against mine.

I want your hands groping my chest and sliding into my underwear, keeping me on the edge of dreaming and waking. But I want you to do it all while I’m drifting in the ocean of elongated moments… just before sleep, because… because I’m selfish.

I know how you want me, baby. I know how you struggle to contain your urges for me and how hard you try to be respectful in the light, my darling.

I love when you strain against instinct because you want to be your most gentlemanly self for me. I love when you can only do the filthiest things to me when I’m barely awake, so you can keep it a secret to yourself, and I’d keep it a secret for you too.

What happens in this synapse of time, in the dark of midnight—it’s not quite real. You don’t have to be responsible…when I press my body to yours, half-asleep, pleading for things without being sure exactly what I’m asking for. You don’t even have to move when your thigh… your knee, wedges between my thighs and I’ll do all the work. Sometimes you’re afraid to let yourself be seen as indulgent, as wanting, as taking advantage—

And I want you to say no to me as many times as you need to. As many times as I need you to. I want you to feel how soft and warm my body is, the slick butter between my legs. I want you to feel the mounting waves of pressure and it takes all of your strength to swallow the surging force down. And yes you can tuck your face in my shoulder and let it wreck through you, because it hurts doesn’t it, baby? Oh I know it does… when your unwavering regard for me exceeds the burn of your desire, and oh baby, don’t you know that makes me in awe of you?

It takes everything not to rouse me. So you listen keenly to my breathing and the quiet sounds I make, with your senses alert and in overdrive.

It breaks and mends something in me, when you do your best to be gentle and slow with your hot thick-fingered hands. Even though every fibre in your body wants to rough me up and push into my membranes and press into tissue and bite down with every sharpened molar. Your battle rages on within you and I’m unaware, untouched by it—even when the fire in your fingertips sears into my flesh, committed to memory. Your self-control makes you shake with tense muscle. All trembling nerves and the tightness in your chest and your breaths come heavy. Stifled moans and you have to be quiet, you have to be good to me, for me.

And sometimes you falter a little, indulge a little, pulling back when I’m startled—sometimes you push through until I melt beneath you. Sometimes you are no better than human. And you don’t want to (or do you?), but sometimes your desire leaves teeth marks and your pawing leaves scratches.

But tonight, you’re going to be my respectful, sweet puppy, won’t you?

[psychosexualfemme]

PSYCHOSEXUAL FEMME.

rules do not share/repost my media. be a freak, not a bigoted loser.

psychosexintro — pervert intro

psychosexcam — pervert pics

psychosexwrites — pervert writing

psychosexpoetry — pervert poetry

psychosexthoughts — pervert shortform thoughts

psychosexqna — pervert asks & anons OPEN

psychosexlookalike — media that looks like me :)