For some time I have followed the Ainterol forum and recently rejoined this one. A large number, even a majority, of those who post here attest to having gender dysphoria, of sensing that they have a female psyche in a male body, and this instills in them the desire to grow breasts. Many, maybe even most, engage in crossdressing. The growing of breasts sometimes leads to sexual reassignment surgery. I have the greatest sympathy for these people.
I have a different kind of gender dysphoria. I have always felt comfortable, psychologically at home in my male body, and have never had the urge to cross-dress. But since puberty I have had gynecomastia. I did not desire breasts, they were a gift of Mother Nature — a gift I did not appreciate at the time, as I was subjected to teasing, even from my own mother and sister. But at the age of nineteen I discovered that my nipples were highly erogenous, and that I could achieve orgasm by stimulating them without any direct stimulation of my penis. This created a whole new kind of erotic feeling, and from then on my nipples were part of every sexual experience, solo or with a partner.
Yet, for years I was self-conscious about my breasts, and reluctant to be seen topless at the beach. With age my breasts grew larger, due to normal hormonal changes, but probably also due to the prolactin produced by frequent (sometimes daily), often prolonged stimulation of my nipples. I was in my sixties when I began to relish the fact that I had breasts, wishing they were even larger. I tried PM for a while, but abandoned it after a couple of bottles, worried about side effects. After all, I had breasts, larger than those of many men who had been on an NBE program for years. During my nipple orgasm sessions I began to put on an open cup bra to accentuate and project them. This added greatly to my pleasure. I discovered I loved to squeeze them, reveling in their voluptuous fullness.
This is where my gender dysphoria comes in. I feel unambiguously male, but male with an appendage of female breasts. Most of the time I don’t think about them, am unconscious of them, feel very much male—only during my nipple orgasm sessions, as I caress and squeeze my breasts, glorying in their size, do I experience the female elements in my psyche, and I love these moments. It’s a journey into a different world of emotion and erotic feeling, a brief excursion out of my male identity from which I return refreshed and renewed.
I have a different kind of gender dysphoria. I have always felt comfortable, psychologically at home in my male body, and have never had the urge to cross-dress. But since puberty I have had gynecomastia. I did not desire breasts, they were a gift of Mother Nature — a gift I did not appreciate at the time, as I was subjected to teasing, even from my own mother and sister. But at the age of nineteen I discovered that my nipples were highly erogenous, and that I could achieve orgasm by stimulating them without any direct stimulation of my penis. This created a whole new kind of erotic feeling, and from then on my nipples were part of every sexual experience, solo or with a partner.
Yet, for years I was self-conscious about my breasts, and reluctant to be seen topless at the beach. With age my breasts grew larger, due to normal hormonal changes, but probably also due to the prolactin produced by frequent (sometimes daily), often prolonged stimulation of my nipples. I was in my sixties when I began to relish the fact that I had breasts, wishing they were even larger. I tried PM for a while, but abandoned it after a couple of bottles, worried about side effects. After all, I had breasts, larger than those of many men who had been on an NBE program for years. During my nipple orgasm sessions I began to put on an open cup bra to accentuate and project them. This added greatly to my pleasure. I discovered I loved to squeeze them, reveling in their voluptuous fullness.
This is where my gender dysphoria comes in. I feel unambiguously male, but male with an appendage of female breasts. Most of the time I don’t think about them, am unconscious of them, feel very much male—only during my nipple orgasm sessions, as I caress and squeeze my breasts, glorying in their size, do I experience the female elements in my psyche, and I love these moments. It’s a journey into a different world of emotion and erotic feeling, a brief excursion out of my male identity from which I return refreshed and renewed.