Transgender Stories Fiction の小説・ストーリー

Thursday Night God, I’m still trembling. My thighs are sore, my body aches deliciously, and my pussy… my pussy feels so fucking full, even hours later. I can smell him on me. I can feel the ghost of his cock stretching me. I have to write this down before the details fade, before the raw, filthy truth of it gets polished into some pretty memory. It wasn’t pretty. It was primal.

He leaned back against the counter, flipping the cover open. On the first page, written in bold, uneven handwriting, were the words: “A Secret Collection of Male Confessions.” Adam let out a quiet breath, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Confessions?” he murmured. “What kind of confessions…” He turned the page. The handwriting inside was rougher, heavier, different from one section to the next, like multiple voices trapped in ink. Different men. Different stories. His curiosity sharpened. He kept reading.

, and said one sentence that I will never forget: "This ass would be wasted for a straight guy." He gave me the phone and we didn't talk about that incident again that day. The next day we watched the Darts World Championship together on Discord, where he again mentioned my ass. He said if a girl sent him this pic and my dick was replaced by a vagina, he would pound the shit out of her. That made me so horny, but I was too excited to flirt with him. I didn't masturbate for 3 weeks now because I tried to do NoFap, since I saw the benefits of it when I tried it for 90+ - I could pull a lor more girls. But that changed 2 days before Christmas on the 22.12.2023 - he wrote me that he was home alo

This is a matter of the company and my reputation. Since Alexander is engaged to that woman, there’s no need to dig into him anymore. I bet she is only here because my presence threatened her position. But I'm not that type of woman. I would rather stay in my lane than push her buttons. I have experienced enough jealousy from others. They even caused me my death. My past—if that was even my real past. Huh! I don’t know anymore. It’s so confusing. Surely, I think I died and transmigrated to Alexander’s world and then went back here. Then it has to be real.

And then pens started moving. By the end of the week, Ethan had read over twenty stories. Each one gutted him. A trans girl’s poem about her childhood name feeling like a haunted house. A nonbinary student’s short story about a tree that only grew crooked when no one was looking. A gay student who wrote a letter to a father who never spoke again after he came out. Ethan wept alone in his office after reading the last one. And when he got home, he didn’t speak much, just hugged Nathan tightly, burying his face into his chest like the world was too heavy again.

Takamatsu screamed as different memory after another continued pouring inside of him, after some time everything stabilize as Takamatsu regained clarity, "I did die, though in normal thinking I am dead in the normal world, I did not cross over to the other side, I only transmigrated, Takamatsu said as he can't help feeling happy. "truck kun ," Takamatsu said as he can't help not stopping feeling happy on how he was not in the underworld but allowed to continue his life somewhere else with the even the possibility of having some cheat but immediately tears streamed down his eyes, though he was at first happy that he was not dead, but after remembering that he can't meet his family again and

I’m also bisexual but never told a soul. While I was out of town, I let Elijah borrow my MacBook MagSafe charger. I was taking a semester off and rarely used it. A month later it was time to register for classes and my laptop was dead. Elijah was at work so I went into his room looking for the charger. I careful searched as to not make it look like the FBI was looking for the Watergate tapes in there. In his desk I came across what appeared to be a diary. I’m an asshole sometimes I admit. So what did I do? I opened it and read parts of it. Turns out my “straight” roommate has homosexual thoughts and fantasies he has been fighting.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. This novel is entered in the "A Touch of Rainbow" writing contest especially created for stories about LGBTQ+. Thank you for supporting queer creations. Other stories by me: Book 1: How to Destroy a Badboy Book 2: The Emancipation of a Badboy

She realized that stories had the ability to transcend language and cultural barriers, touching the hearts of people from all walks of life. With this newfound insight, Luna embarked on a project to collect and share stories from individuals in Seoul. She sought out locals, immigrants, and travelers alike, listening to their personal narratives and experiences. These stories ranged from tales of triumph and resilience to accounts of cultural traditions and the bonds forged through shared humanity.

“I guarantee you’re going to get the same response if you come tomorrow. And I find it gross that you’d want me to know what happened to my father’s…naked body,” “Are you certain that you’ve told us everything, Mr Manando?” “Okay, let’s do it this way,” Miles sighed, closing his eyes. “I am a transgender male, and I ran away years ago. That would mean, I left my family and came to live in South Africa. Now, anyone would assume that in those years I was living here, I knew nothing about my parents, right? Anything that happens, only they’d know. I just recently went to London, and I didn’t get all the details,” Miles explained.