The Time I (Sat) on My Glasses

I think I’ve mentioned that K and I are ethically non-monogamous.

so like, what does that mean?!

PREMABLE

There are three parts to this story. I’m going to start with a flash forward.

Enjoy.12

the climax of the story (wink wink)

[imagine reading this without knowing the title of this story lol]

So like, sometimes I see this married guy? He’s cute. But I stopped for a couple months because I had no interest in having sex (with anyone). :(

But I had a libido flare up a few weeks ago and I didn’t want to waste it!

Most of the energy went to K. But I wanted a man too, for the reasons set forth above. He and I snap a fair bit, so I let him know the window is open and we set a weekday afternoon session13 tryst14 meeting15 nooner16netflix and chill17 marathon18 rendezvous19assignation20nooner.21 Let's call him BT (boytoy).

No, I don’t know what excuses BT uses or whether he's skipping work; why would I bother asking? That feels intrusive, imo. He can tell me if he wants to.

Anyways… he shows up around 1:15ish? 😤 He was supposed to be there at 1.

Men, am I right? Can’t even be on time to a sex date.

He’s cute and man-groomed22 and eager (as men are). We don't kiss, usually, so he gets a big hug from me, then comes in. He's dressed like a bougie nerdy late thirties dad. Normal for him, but still cute! I like his hair the most.

We hang out for a while, as usual. I gab about work and dance and whatever I want (I am so very talkative). He offers viewpoints, affirmations and some fun conversation topics (like books we’ve read, mutual love of specific media, etc.). I guess you could call this my buttering up phase lol. I need at least 45 minutes of this.

So he butters me up, and we begin as we usually do: some foreplay followed by a couch blow job. I used to wear my dance kneepads during, but the carpet at my new place is soft enough. 😉

It’s actually really cute of me to wear them during, so I do anyways! 👧🏼

I love giving oral.23 Some people find that odd, but it’s just so much fun! It’s a toy I get to play with to make someone bliss out. Maybe I'm just a people pleaser? 💖

I don’t let my partners grab me by the head. That is not my thing. If you want this from me, I am in control. You want no hands? Sounds fun! But no handcuffs. Don’t try to limit me physically.

Anyways we have some fun in the living room and move it to the bedroom. We dance the tango (I’m not going to specify by what means). I curl my toes, he hasn’t yet. There is a natural lull where I go into the bathroom to freshen up and thirty seconds later:

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Ok, so this is partly my fault. My mom did say she wanted to come over that day, and I had said yes. But we didn’t specify a time because she had chores and babysitting in the morning.

She texted 15 minutes ahead of coming over.Even though I did not respond, came over.And, when I didn’t let her in quickly, let herself in.

😩

So she just knocked, right? And I had just died a little24 two minutes ago. Unsurprisingly, I was not quick to respond.

Also, why would I be?! K would have called before coming home. I had zero reason to expect an unannounced midday visitor!

THUS, it took like, twenty seconds for me to even realize that someone was knocking on my door! ALSO, my neighbor sometimes receive packages related to his job, so like, I’ve been Pavlov’ed into ignoring midday knocking!

Finally, I come to the realization that it must be my mom showing up unannounced.

😬

I start picking up my clothes while BT runs into the bathroom to hide (and freshen up). And then, as I walk through the doorway from my bedroom to the living room, my mom opens the door and walks in.

Ok, this one is half my fault, I forgot to lock the door after BT came in. But like, this isn’t a dangerous complex midday. It’s not like, super dumb to not lock.

Still though, she shouldn’t have done that.

Anyways, she’s opening the door and I’m walking out of the bedroom. Naked.

I drop everything but my leggings, and shield my bottom bits from view. Being new to girldom, however, I did not instinctually cover the girls. After about a second I realize this and cover my bee stings with an arm.25 

I do think it drove home the “Mika is physically transitioning” fact for her!

Anyways, I tell her to step back out, she does, and I get fully dressed. My handsome BT is hiding in the bathroom, but he’s quiet as a church mouse. Good boy toy. I close the bedroom door, and open the front door back up.

My mom has lemonade she bought us at the Trader Joe's and our laundry. Yeah, she does our laundry. We don’t have a washer-dryer and it's a waste of money to use the paid ones at our apartment complex when there’s a washer/dryer at my parents’. And I can’t spend four hours consecutively with my parents,26 so my mom does our laundry when she’s doing theirs. Usually I pick it up but I was very busy that day (being a ho).

So she comes in, puts the basket down and asks “how are you?”

The second question was “where is K?”

And the third was “where is Debbie?”

That makes sense, right? Debbie the dog is fast asleep in the bedroom and K is away. Right? Right?!

😤

I should have said “K took Debbie to the dog park but I had men things to do so I stayed”. That would have been 100% true (albeit abusing the level of detail).

It’s fun to do that in writing or in conversation. Like, actually fun for me. I love the English language. I'm incredible at it. That’s why I’ve been affirmed by the Third Circuit and you haven’t.27 

I somehow manage to get mom out of there in like, three minutes?? Pretty damn fast! I think she understood, vaguely, that she was disturbing something she shouldn’t be disturbing.

Anyways, after I escort her out, I pull BT out of the bathroom.

He’s still got an itch and I’m raring to relieve it, so we end where we started: him on the couch, me on my knees on the floor. Honestly, this bit is the most fun for me. I only do penetrative and receptive to make my partners happy.

So yeah, he shot some rope. I had never had worn war paint before, so that was a fun experience.

And then, exhausted but blissful, I sort of rolled back and to the left and sat down. On my glasses. And the second I felt the frames bend under my burgeoning posterior, I began bawling. I rolled off of them, took one look at the damage, and buried my face in the couch.28

He took over seamlessly. Got my pliers, bent the stems very close to alignment and came as close as he could to fixing the angle of the stems (they were super spread after I sat on them). He even got some paper towel and showed me how to put them in the stem joints to keep my glasses tight until I took them to be fixed.

It was actually really nice, in hindsight. I was allowed to cry. He was happy to be my knight in shining armor. And I was happy to be a damsel in distress (not happy but you get it).

Because I was. I am a damsel and I was in incredible distress. These glasses are the most beautiful (and expensive) thing I’ve bought as Mika. Putting them on feminizes my face. Putting them on makes me glow. Putting them on makes me feel like myself.

Cis men aren’t allowed to be helpless. It’s a huge violation of the historical Western perceptions of masculinity. Maybe it was part of the weird social contract that Christians imposed on men and women. One of the perks of being a woman is being allowed to be helpless or overwhelmed.

It is a perk. If you don’t realize that, you’re not looking at it from someone assigned the opposite gender of you. Things can feel constraining to you and liberating to me, ok?

But for most of my life, it was impossible to let myself collapse. That was not consistent with my presentation. Exhibiting helplessness created massive cognitive dissonance. Admitting to helplessness was even worse.

Nowadays? I let it happen. I embrace emotional content rather than mask it with anger. And I was upset. I hated myself for leaving them on the floor, I hated myself for forgetting they were there, I felt irresponsible and stupid. I was scared they would be ruined, and I had no vision insurance anymore and it would take weeks to get a new pair so I’d have to wear my old, masculine glasses, and what would people think if I wore janky29 glasses and they would de-feminize my face and I HATED MYSELF.

So I cried.

A connected neighborhood is a happy neighborhood neighborly love no secrets among neighborsthe men have earsLove Thy Neighbor

Let’s take about 20% off there, Squirrelly Dan

So… I do this thing where I moan. In a high pitch. Softly. Loudly. Achingly. Aggressively. Adorably. Continuously. Sometimes all at once.

Yes, it’s partially performative, but I am and want to be performative.30 It’s an intentional exaggeration of something I do naturally.

And it’s cute and hot. I’m hot to listen to, ok? It’s extremely hot for my partner. It makes it hotter for both of us.

I also have a neighbor. A young, attractive neighbor, from whom I occasionally bum a cigarette. We talk a lot, he’s a great neighbor. He’s also queer. And, from the look of his sweatpants, he's carrying at least 8 rolls of quarters. Let call him (SK).

He is meaningfully shorter than me, which I usually find a turnoff in men.31

I don’t look at people sexually unless I want to. It is euphoric that I have control over that now. So while I had noted, with idle curiosity, that he had a tallboy can between his legs, I had not thought about him as a sexual partner.

Anyways (imagine I stretched that on every syllable),32 BT and I conclude our business meeting, and he heads home. I walk outside and have a cigarette with SK.

We chat, first about how our weekends were. And then he brings it up. “Seems like you’re having a fun afternoon”, he says. I say “yes, I am”. And then I can’t hold the silence and start giggling.

So I tell him the story! My mom showing up and then the glasses. And he’s laughing along with me at the series of unfortunate events. Sharing made me feel better. And we talked a little about the freedom of crying. It was really uplifting, as all conversations with him are.

And then, at 3 AM the following evening, he DMs me on Instagram. It is a confession; a confession that he mixed a batch while listening to me through the wall. And that he wants to join my haystack, if I would want that.

Which is a maybe. I mean, he’s hot and lovely and kind and swings a Louisville slugger. But he’s our neighbor.

Funny follow up though. I told this story to a group of five dancers and 3 of them got really offended by the content of that DM. And I was like, I understand that he is sexualizing me and then forcing me to deal with those thoughts, regardless of whether I want to or not.

But…

He’s also worshipping me, in the most masculine way possible. Is it invasive? Yes. Does it make me feel sexy and powerful? Absolutely!

Three of the dancers were taken aback by this viewpoint. The other two were nodding their heads like “preach”.

I have a lot of thoughts here, but it mainly boils down to “cis men will worship any woman that speaks gently to them” and “very few cis men are the subject of sexual worship from cis women”.

What feels invasive to you might feel empowering to me, ok?

So SK and I went to a gay bar (Trax) here in Nashville last weekend. It was a lot of fun! It was basically Cheers for him; he knew everyone working, the owner and like, 30% of the clientele? Which made it kind of amazing for me. I am quite shy and bad at approaching people. So I just let him introduce me around all night!

I love feeling hot. I love catching men looking at me and I love smiling back in a “maybe, but probably no” way.33 My ego celebrates when women and queens compliment my hair and style. It was euphoric spending the back end of the evening partying with two cis women (as peers) and following each other on Instagram so we can party together again. My hotness felt very validated when I got white powder for free. If there's one thing that screams "hot girl out on the town", it's free railway tickets. 😂

That was my first time playing in the snow! It was way less intense than I expected. I’ll go sledding again and report back! 😇

Ooh! Final thoughts!

Men are disgustingly (I’m using that emphatically, not judgmentally) horny. Hookups happen so fast. I introduced SK to a guy from my dance class that happened to be there, and 10 minutes later they were making out. But then they paused and the guy from my dance class, who clearly likes older men, started making out with the man on the other side of him. And then left together, I think. There was a 50 year old queen who talked to me, at length, about how he wanted SK to tickle his ivories. Everyone had hooked up with everyone before (not actually but you get my point).

That said, it’s refreshing to observe relationships that are sometimes sexual, but always friends! They’re honest and communicative relationships, it looks like. And supportive. Pretty good base.

Totes makes me think of my senior year of college 😊34