Lots of New Visitors: Hello!

There has been an influx of new readers lately, a lot of you connecting with my blog through the Slate article by Vanessa Vitiello Urquhart that I was quoted in.

For the benefit of the new folks, here’s a little about me…

I’m married with children, living with my wife of 22 years (legal for 2) and our two daughters (kindergarden and high school).

I have a steady girlfriend/boyfriend/partner of many talents who recently moved up to Olympia.  She has become a part of my family and it is my great joy that she and my wife get along so well.

For pay, I write proposals for my technical consulting company. I used to be a software developer and moved into this work when I was between contracts. That was over a year ago and now my company relies on me to bring in work for everyone and I don’t go out on consulting gigs myself any more.  It’s sometimes triumphant, sometimes frustrating, always challenging.  The best part is that I can determine my own schedule and work from home (or various locations downtown) part of the time and from our office part of the time.

My passions are writing, social activism and learning more about everything.  I’ve said before that I will happily sit and listen to a talk or presentation by a passionate, energetic speaker, regardless the topic.  It’s true, I’m a sponge for learning.  I also love deep, engaging, smart conversations with passionate people.  And long walks on the beach.

I write erotica, mostly short stories, and am floundering with my first novel.  I’m so comfortable with the short story format that it feels like my native way of telling stories.  Pushing that into a longer format is a challenge, and I’m seeking mentors for working through it.

I write short pieces for submission to online magazines, some have been published others are awaiting editing/rewrites.  I have a short erotic story in an anthology to be published in August and I’m working on one to submit to another anthology.

I enjoy gardening, both because I love being able to grow food for my family and for the therapeutic benefits of being outside working in the dirt.  It makes my heart and soul happy.

I identify as butch, trans* and genderqueer.  I do not identify with the gender binary, neither man nor woman but rather a combination of them.  I’ve been taking testosterone for 10 months and have a lot more hair on my chest, face, shoulders and back.  My voice has gotten lower.  I’m learning how to sing new songs with my new voice.

If you’ve come here after reading a Slate article I was quoted in, or one of my SimplySxy posts, or from anywhere really, feel free to ask questions about what you’ve read.  I’m open to respectful questions via comment or email:  kyle at butchtastic dot net.

Thanks for visiting.

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Why Sex with You is So Good

I’ve told you before how fantastic sex is with you. I’ve seen you blush, heard you stammer, seen your shy but pleased smile.

“Why?” you ask. Is it true that you don’t know?  Please, love, let me tell you.

Sex with you is excellent not just because of the shape of your body, though it makes my knees weak every time I see you. Or think about seeing you. It’s not just because of the size of your hands, or the shape of your fingers or the way they move inside me – though I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t a big part of it. Sex with you is amazing not just because of the firm softness of your lips and the way kissing you feels like falling into a pool of warm water that suspends me in time and makes me forget all thoughts or desires beyond the movement of my mouth against yours.

Your physical attributes delight me, no doubt about it. The memory of a warm, bare stretch of your skin, surfacing during an otherwise tedious part of my workday, can render me nearly senseless with lust.

All of these things are wonderful and lustworthy and yet, they are only a part of what makes sex with you some of the best I’ve ever had..

What else is there, you wonder?

For sex to be amazing and mind-blowing for me, it has to revolve around a connection that goes beyond the physical. And the connection we have was remarkable from the very beginning and has only deepened since then.

Sex with you is amazing because it is not just a physical act, it is a passionate spiritual act of intentional connection. It’s looking into your eyes and seeing not just your soul, but the way your soul enjoys dancing with mine. You bring attention and empathy to every moment we are together. I feel it in the touch that knows me as well as I know myself. I see it in your eyes, see the way I am completely visible to you. You are fantastically aware and in tune with me, reading my body like the pages of a book you love so much you’ve read and reread it a thousand times. One glance from me, a sigh, hip thrust or the thickening of my flesh in response to your urgent touch, all these speak volumes to you who have made it a practice to know me well.

Sex with you is a wonderful act of communion and re-emergence. You never judge me for the way I need you to touch me, even when – especially when – I change my mind mid-act. You are flexible and compassionate and generous and unselfish.

Our bodies rut and thrash against each other. Sliding in sinuous sympathetic motion, grasp and release, enter and emerge. You take pleasure in my pleasure, I can see in your eyes the reflection of my passion. Making love with you is not a series of physical movements acted upon one of us by the other, it is a merging of our desires and delights. Our energies mingle on the atomic level and the logic of separate bodies is suspended.

Sometimes our fantastic sex uncovers awkward positions, the kind of humorous human moments left out of most love stories, our passionate love songs sometimes breaking into something best left for the cutting room floor. Through it all you never break away, we meet in the middle in laughter, celebrating our humanity and the ways in which these supposed imperfections solidify the divinity of our union.

You are passionate, generous, joyful, solid and kind, strong and gentle, hard and soft in the right measure. Our dance is the dance of equals, two strong individuals who bring many gifts and give them freely. Our lovemaking is the soaring, triumphant leap of earthbound beasts who’ve conquered gravity and sprouted angels wings. Sex with you is dirtysweet earthymagic that feels at once new and familiar in my marrow.

Though I have known you but a short time in this life, I have loved you forever. Sex with you is amazing because it is the reunion of our souls, so in love, so familiar, so eager to rediscover each other.

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Writing Updates…

Yes, I’m writing about writing.

Sometime this coming week, my debut column, ‘Gendering Outside the Lines’, will be published on SimplySxy, a web magazine featuring articles on Sex and Sexuality.  I’d never heard of them before they invited me to contribute on topics related to gender identity and transitioning.  There have been some trans* related posts there, but not much about gender identity and they don’t have a lot of presence from gender minorities.  I’m hoping to help change that.

I’ve had a couple of pieces post on elephant journal, another online magazine devoted to mindful living.  I have also had two rejected, though one of those came with some feedback and an invitation to resubmit.  I’m working on another piece for them, which I should be ready to submit soon.

My story about a young butch and a slightly older co-worker will be a part of the anthology, Me and My Boi, which is still slated to publish this September.  Fingers crossed.

And I am working on at least one, if not two, potential submissions for Best Lesbian Erotica 2016, which I’m feeling optimistic about.

Still in the works:  my e-book which has been put off many times.  I do have cover art for it now, and just need one final story to cap it off.  Maybe I’ll have time this coming week to think about that project.  We’ll see.

And my novel… sigh.  It’ll happen, when it happens, when other projects become less compelling, I suppose.  I just have to roll with it.

Finally, not a writing piece but a piece I was interviewed for:  Slate magazine writer Vanessa Vitiello Urquhart wrote a piece on Genderqueer identities (3/24/2015).  Check it out and if you’re brave, write a complementary comment.  Maybe we can get more articles out there on real life non-binary and genderqueer people.


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One More Sleep

My lover is moving to Olympia tomorrow.  She’ll be in a hotel room for two nights and then come to my house to care for our cats while my family and I are on vacation in Florida.

One more sleep.

I’ll spend tomorrow night with her, then back home to prepare for the trip.  I wish I could be here during her first week but feel good knowing that she’ll have a base camp while she finalizes her search for a new home base.

One more sleep and a spring break and then I will be back home.  And she will live here, in this town that I love and have not been able to leave for 51 years.  I’ll come back from vacation and she will be minutes away, rather than an hour and a half.  I’ll come back from vacation and we’ll start learning how to live in the same town.

It was my wife’s idea to invite her to stay at our house while we’re gone, and that says a lot.  My wife likes my lover, they get along, they like each other, they can hang out without me in the room.  This is a big deal.  This is a huge in terms of the three of us being in a functional poly-cule together.  I have so much love for them both and it’s a joy to watch their friendship developing.

She’s a part of my family now.  My children greet her with hugs and smiles and want to spend time with her.  My eldest, knowing that she is more than a friend, has told me she approves.  My Switchy Witchy Woman has met many of my very best friends and they all get along.  No, I’m not looking for the other shoe to fall because fuck that bullshit.  This is good and real and genuine and there aren’t any shoes hanging overhead.  This is working.

I do sometimes pinch myself though, I’ll admit it. I have never felt so little internal or external friction with poly since my wife and I started 7 years ago.  This is amazing, this is how it’s supposed to work.  (said with the recognition that for other people ‘how it’s supposed to work’ could look differently)

I am so happy and blessed.

I am so excited to have her here, in my town.  I’m excited to watch as she explores and discovers – with me and without.  And I’m super excited to see what she discovers that I had no clue about, because I fully believe that will happen.

One more sleep and the new adventure begins.

Almost, baby, almost.  Home is waiting for you.

One more sleep, lover.

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Feeling it

Feeling what?


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Passing Privilege, Spring Break and Bathrooms

I told a friend I was going to Florida for spring break with my family and he gave me a concerned look.

“Be careful down there, especially in the bathrooms.”

That gave me pause, because though I’d been reading about and cursing and posting comments about the ‘bathroom laws’ being introduced in Florida and other states, I hadn’t put two and two together.  Oh yeah, the place I’m going on vacation is one of those states.  I’m a trans guy.  I have to pee sometimes.

He was truly concerned for my safety and I took a couple of moments to reassure him.  I was staying with family and bathroom use wasn’t an issue there.  The times it would be an issue – out in public – I’d have to be aware and cautious about my circumstances and the clientele of the place.  But really, any trouble caused would have to be initiated by someone who saw me and figured out I wasn’t a cis-guy.  And in all the time I’ve been using men’s rooms in public – about 2 or 3 months now – I’ve never been challenged.  That means I have enough passing privilege to get by here in Olympia, and maybe enough to avoid trouble in Florida and the airports between here and there.

Ahhhh… passing privilege, that blessing I sometimes curse.  I am grateful when it keeps me and mine from harm, I curse it for erasing my queer visibility.  I acknowledge that not all trans people have this privilege and they are they ones who are most in danger using the bathrooms corresponding to their gender identity. It’s a dangerous luxury that can promote complacency.  My passing privilege led me to minimize the potential risks in traveling across the country to an overtly transphobic state.  There are lots of people who don’t have that option.  For them the prospect of going through airport security can be terrifying, much less pushing open the bathroom door in a place where bathroom policing is the topic du jour.

I have an advantage, most of the time I pass as male.  I can use public restrooms designated for males and not get hassled. I’m going to be mindful of that while I’m in Florida, mindful and open to any possibility to engage people in conversations about why those laws and attitudes are hateful and unproductive.


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A snippet of something I started working on today:

Sex with you is amazing because it is not only a physical act, but a passionate, spiritual and focused intentional act.  You bring attention and empathy to every moment we are together. I feel it in the touch that knows me as well as I know myself.  I see it in your eyes, see the way I am completely visible to you. You are fantastically aware and in tune with me, reading my body like the pages of a book you love so much you’ve read and reread it a thousand times. One glance from me, a sigh, hip thrust or the thickening of my flesh in response to your urgent touch, all these speak volumes to you who have made it a practice to know me well.


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Trans*date – 9 months on T: Come on Get Higher

This morning, I recorded myself singing Come On Get Higher (Matt Nathanson).


The name of the song, as well as a frequent thought as I attempt to sing songs I used to sing before testosterone… “Come on, get higher!”

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About My Lover…


I need to tell you about my lover.  There’s a lot to say, multiple blog posts worth for sure.  I’ll start with this:  I have never loved someone in such a clear-headed way before.

I’ve talked about being addicted to a lover, swept away, even bewitched.  Don’t get me wrong, those were some great love affairs, epic loves that I will always cherish.

So what’s different about this one?  I described it as ‘clear-headed’ because I don’t feel foggy or love-adled or drunk on love. I’m not worried that one morning I’ll wake up with a love hangover and wonder what the hell I was thinking.  She and I have come together as two independent people, responsible for our own monkeys, not dependent on each other for happiness, not needing the other person to change for us.

I don’t need her to be happy, but I’m definitely happier for her love in my life.

Every day she shows me another angle of herself and I fall more deeply in love.  Every day she proves that I can trust her with the most difficult truths and she shares hers with me as well.  There is an equality to what we are doing that lends itself to stability and balance.  And every day it gets better.

Happy third mensaversary, sweet pea :-)

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BSQ: Boys, Sweat and Queersex

A few weeks ago, my lover and I made our way to Seattle to play hard at Blood, Sweat and Queers, a monthly play party at the Seattle Center for Sex Positive Culture.  It was a big night for us.  Mal’s first time at this play party and this facility and my first time topping in public.  Mal was coming as my boy and I could not be more proud or excited.  And a bit nervous.  I wanted everything to be perfect for both of us.


We had a room at the Belltown Inn, in the heart of Belltown, an area popular with young adults in the evening. It was here that Mal’s service began, carrying my heavy bag up to our room. Once he had unpacked my bag and filled my water bottle, he went back to the car to get his things.

We made good use of our time in the room until our stomachs growled so loudly we couldn’t ignore them. To fill our bellies with fuel for the evening’s exertions, we walked around until we found the Crocodile Cafe’s Back Bar. I ordered us a pizza (bacon, chicken, mushrooms and olives) and I got a beer. Mal was so sexy and handsome, I had to have my hands on him, as subtly as I could, and he was clearly feeling the same way. And he was definitely fully Mal, I could feel his masculinity and the strength he was holding in service to me. His sexy energy filled me with such anticipation and need. My beautiful, beautiful boy.

After dinner we went back up to the room to get ready. As we got ready, our excitement grew. I was in cowboy boots, Carhart’s and a black t-shirt under my western snap-front shirt. I was hard packing, and the resulting bulge got an appreciative look and grope from my boy. Mal was wearing layered t-shirts topped with a sleeveless chambray top.. fucking hot boy. It was all I could do to not undress him again. I packed my play bag: water bottle, cuffs and clips, drum sticks, my paddle and his heavier one, gloves and rubbers – some in my pockets as well. I tucked my navy blue hanky on the left side, black gloves on the right. And, of course, I had my belt on.

I was keyed up, excited, but less nervous as the moments ticked by. I was feeling the calm that comes to me before playing – whether it’s a soccer game or a night in the dungeon. I was prepared, I knew the game, I was fit and ready, mentally and physically. My boy was hotter than the center of a bonfire and so damned cute I could hardly stand waiting to walk into the play-space with him.

And so, what was the game, you ask? I was walking into a play party I hadn’t been to in 2 years, bringing someone new to the space. I was also going to top publicly for the first time, I was walking into the party as a Sir with his boy. We’d talked about that, how I was to introduce us. I’d proposed introducing him as ‘My boy, Mal’… and I’d recorded my voice saying it. I wanted him to be able to hear it and feel it before deciding if it felt right. His response was an enthusiastic ‘Yes!’ and he told me he loved hearing it so much, he’d been playing it over and over again.

We arrived and Mal took up the toy bag again.  Stepping inside and getting into line, I looked ahead and saw NeighborFemme. That made me happy. I’d been hoping to reconnect with some friends that night, and she was one of my favorites. Also, the last time I was there, I was being topped by her and two others.

I had Mal take care of our coats and the toy bag. When he joined me, I was listening as NeighborFemme regaled myself and another regular with the story of her evening. I introduced him to her, and NF remarked about his hands (large and strong) and indicated it should be quite a scene between the two of us. Mal hadn’t heard it clearly, so I paraphrased: “I believe what she means is that she’s looking at you and seeing a strong boy, of similar stature to me and thinking that if it you chose to not be submissive, it would be quite a fight.”  It’s true – we are well matched and I am just able to overcome him when it comes to strength vs. strength.  I enjoyed seeing him get that recognition.  And the fact that such a strong, handsome, intelligent person was submitting to me that night filled me with pride. I felt 10 feet tall and powerful.

I wish I could show you pictures of him that night.  The way he stood with his strong shoulders back and his head high.  The way I took my long sleeved shirt off and didn’t even have time to remember to ask before he’d taken it, folded it and put it with our things.  His quiet strength, standing with me, ready to meet my every need, was an amazing gift.  And we’d only begun.

I showed Mal around the space, pointing out the different pieces of equipment, telling him about my experiences with the various benches and racks and crosses.  We looked at the medical room and the ‘wet room’.  Everyone was still socializing and the whole place space was open to us. We’d talked earlier and decided that starting early was preferable to waiting until late to play.  I indicated that he should following me and sat down on a couch, motioning him to the floor at my feet.  ”Come closer, between my legs.”

A shy glance from him, probably wondering if I was going to have him suck my cock.  Not yet… that was for later.  I hugged his body against mine, kissing him, diving into his mouth with a hunger.  My hands roamed his sexy body and I could feel my desire hardening.  I leaned back and had him take his shirts off and then pulled his head against my chest. I kept touching him, pulling and stroking the flesh of his back, his arms, the short hairs at the back of his head. I warmed him up with some open-handed slaps, then a few firm strikes with my fists.  My fingernails drew lines from his belt line upward and I could feel him draw a sharp breath in.  I glanced over to where he’d placed the bag, next to one of the chain link fence sections.  There still wasn’t anyone else playing and we were about to change that.

I lifted his handsome face and kissed him. “Are you ready, sweet boy?”

I don’t remember if he said yes or simply nodded, but, yes, he was ready.

I cuffed him and clipped him to the fence, bending him over so he’d be accessible to all my attentions.  Mmmmm and I definitely wanted to pour my attention all over him.

I pressed up against his ass, so he could feel how excited I was, and reached around to unfasten his pants, pushing everything down to his ankles.  I figured hobbling my tough boy would be a good idea.  Now the gorgeous blank canvas of his skin was exposed to me and the room.  I want to tell you right now that I have no doubt I was the luckiest Sir in the room with this gorgeous boy giving himself to me.

I used my hands first, spanking his sexy butt into a rosy blush and moving up his back to his shoulders.  He cried out and squirmed, fingers gripping the fence as he worked hard to hold his position.  ”Good boy” I murmured, rubbing it all in.  After another couple of rounds of spankings, I pulled out my belt.  I’d been thinking about my belt against his skin a lot in the weeks leading up to this moment.

He took a lot from that belt, gasping and crying out, wincing as I rubbed it in.  I loved every moment of it, the heft of the metal studded leather in my hand, the way his skin pinked up and then reddened.  I loved that zap of energy that sang up the length of my belt when I connected with his body.  He was cursing at me and shuffling around.  At one point he snapped at me, “That’s enough on the right side, already!”  Maybe that’s when I was paddling him.

I picked up a drumstick – solid oak – and peppered legs and ass with strikes from both end.  Thicker than a cane, but more focused than a paddle, I didn’t want to over use it… that would be another time.  I’d brought both my skinny Slut paddle and his wider heavier one.  That heavy paddle really made him breath hard and get mad.  I liked that a lot.  I tormented him a bit more and got up close to check in.  He was breathing hard and growling  bit, a wild barely tamed light in his eye.  I don’t remember how he phrased it, but he was ready to get fucked.  I stroked the back of his leg up to to his glowing ass and he growled at me again.  I could have teased him more, but I was pretty damned horny, too.

I pulled him upright, kissed his mouth hard and pulled out my cock. I looked into his eyes – defiant, hungry, desperate with need.  Looking down at my erection, I pressed lightly on his shoulders.

“Suck my cock, boy, get it nice and hard and ready for your ass.”

Eyes flashing, he knelt down and gave me a wet and passionate blowjob.  Those beautiful blue eyes, looking up at me. So much love, so much hunger, so much need.  I pulled him toward me and he gagged and kept going.  He was losing himself to my cock.  I was getting lost in it too, but this wasn’t the end piece of our set.  Pulling back gently, I looked down into those eyes and gave him a smile.  ”Time for your ass, boy.  Stand up so I can fuck that gorgeous, sweet ass of yours.”

He stood and turned around, holding onto the chain link.  It was all I could do not to swoon at the sight of his reddened cheeks and wet sex, peeking at me between his thighs.  Fucking hot sexy boy, and all mine.  I put on a condom and pulled a black nitrile glove out of my back pocket.  Lubing my fingers first, I stroked his pucker, grinning when the cold slippery stuff made him gasp.  He was so ready for this, we’d been talking about it all week and I knew getting his ass fucked hard after we played was not just a desire, but a necessity.  I worked on opening him up with my fingers, but we were both impatient.

“Fuck me, please!” he hissed urgently.

I reached for the lube again and stroked it onto my cock.  ”You need my cock, boy?  Need to get your ass fucked?”

Not that I needed to ask the question, but I love talking dirty, and I wanted to hear the words, hear him beg me for it, just a little.  ”Yes!  Please fuck me, please…”

I pressed my cock head against him and popped in quickly, grinning as he hissed and fell forward against the fencing.  I started out slow, enjoying the visual of my cock disappearing into him.  Fucking him feels so good, the rest of the room fell away again, as it had when I’d been hitting him.  The only thing in the universe was this beautiful boy pressing his ass back against my hips and the feeling of connection between us.  My strokes got faster and harder, with him encouraging me all the while.  I don’t know how many times he came, shouting out in pleasure, quivering on my cock. I kept a good grip on his hipbones, holding him up when his knees threatened to buckle.  I know I came a couple of times, spending myself inside him, his heat meeting my need.

His legs were shaking by the time I pulled out of him.  He collapsed to the ground and I got him his shirt.  He let me know he needed some time and I busied myself with clean up.

He gathered himself as I gathered our things.  Other people had begun playing while we were at it and we sat down together to watch.  He sat on the floor next to me, quietly observing.  I was observing, too, both the scene in front of us and him.  I stroked his head and shoulders.  I felt peaceful and happy.  I also felt distinctly honored to have played with him – this beautiful, handsome, strong, passionate individual whom I love and desire so much.  His submission is always a cherished gift, never something I take for granted.  I wanted to take care of him, showing him how much I loved him.  I did all the things I remember my Sir doing for me after play – got food and water, told him how proud I was of him, kissed and held him.

Later we explored a little further and found the fucking spaces in the back (new since I was there last).  He wanted to fuck me and I was more than willing, letting him boss me around a bit until I was hands and knees on the bed and he was fucking me hard… and damn, can that boy fuck.  Soon after, we were gathering our things and heading out.  We were both hungry and ended up at the Belltown Pub near our hotel for food and beverage before retiring to bed for more awesome sex.

Mal, you are a hot, strong, sexy beast and topping you is a huge thrill.  Thank you, my love.  I am the luckiest guy/Sir/boyfriend in the ‘verse. Really looking forward to our next play date.


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