Penis Envy

I’m in the correct body (gender-wise … although I seem to be borrowing someone else’s stomach and thighs right now). I am female born and identified.   And oh man, do I want a penis right now. Actually, I could have used one over the weekend, and probably early this afternoon … but my desire for a penis right now is pretty deep.

What would I do with a penis? That’s a soft-ball question … I can tell you exactly what I’d do with a penis right now. I would pee. I would pee in the tub. I would pee in a bucket. I would pee here; I would pee there; why, I would pee, pee everywhere.

After peeing for a liquid, golden hour I would take a very long … very hot … shower. I would lather, rinse, repeat. Repeat.

But as I type this I am a prisoner inside my house. There are many people (with penises!) outside with their little-boy toys and tractors and dirt-movers replacing the sewer line and re-whatevering the kitchen plumbing so that it flows into the new system, too. Apparently it’s something that needs to be done every half-century, whether your landlord wants to or not.

One of the guys looks like a blue-collar Ray Donovan … that’s right … a dirty Ray Donovan is laying pipe at my place right now … and all I want is to pee, shower, drink water and fix a meal.

They are going to be here most of the night, they think.   I feel sorry for them … what a long, hard day’s night. The only beverage I can offer them is beer, but all I can think is that they can relieve themselves when and wherever they wish.  When you’re a man with a penis, the world is your toilet.

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