Post-op Stories

Lily traced her finger down Eric’s vertical scar. It ran from just below his ribcage to just above where his pubic hair began, skirting around his navel as if it were a roundabout. Three months had passed since he’d had emergency surgery for a bowel obstruction and they were celebrating because, that day, he had regained his pre-operative weight again. “Mmmm…it’s so good to have you well again,” she said. Eric had fucked...

One Step Forward, Two Steps Back Sales of my novel, The Greatest Liar, Trans Erotica With A Purpose (TGL), had been tepid, despite the generally positive reader comments on the publishing website of an e-commerce firm named for a large South American River. The meager royalties didn’t bother me: I have more assets than I ever dreamed of owning, and my professional career is thriving. But it troubled me that the public did...

I’ve never been attracted to ladyboys, but since going on sex vacations, I’ve told myself that I shouldn’t indiscriminately avoid all contact with them. If I met one somewhere and felt an attraction to or a connection with her, I should take the physical contact as far as I could stand. Besides, it’s likely the revulsion is a product of society instead of any sort of ingrained taste, and as I’ve matured and advanced my ow...