#t4t frotting

[patientsaint]

T4T scissoring until you find the perfect spot and you’re rubbing the heads of your dicks together >>>>

[agonyandy]

God fuck I 🫶 frotting

[canis-ludus]

needy. needy needy dog. need to roll around with another transmasc. bigger than me--taller, heavier, fuller dick. i don't even wanna fuck i just wanna gnaw on 'em and frot with their pretty, twitching tcock until we're both wet messes and im just babblin' and clingin' to 'em

[puppycat-boy-pussy]

beautiful big girlcock and adorable little tdick frotting save me~

[tboybites]

INTRO

My name is V, I use he/him or it/its pronouns and I am an 18-year-old trans masculine thing on testosterone. I am t4t, I don't like cis people and probably never will. My content is sub content, I am a sub. Timezone is EST and My dms and ask box are open <3 I am engaged, my fiance knows about this blog and she frequently sees my posts, this isn't a cheating thing.

DNIS, Yeses, and Nos under the cut!

DNIS MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS IF THERE ISNT AN AGE IN A BIO/PINNED YOU ARE BLOCKED! Bigots, of any kind. This includes zionists and anti-semites fuck off you are not welcome. Transmeds, pedos, radfems, terfs/swerfs Forced detrans, sh, and ed blogs. Cishet people of any gender, and fucking chasers go away. YES LIST pet play, intox, cnc, choking, begging, somno, t4t, pain, overstim, bondage, size difference (I am so so tiny), breeding (no pregnancy) NO THX (I am not judging or shaming anyone with these kinks they are not for me I will not post them I ask you not to bring them up in my asks/dms.) pregnancy, detrans, scat/piss/vomit, feet, food, ageplay, and others but these are the mains. If I don't reply to it, there's a guess I probably wasn't into it. I block freely and happily, hate and disrespect will not be tolerated.

[itti-the-mouse]

I need to draw frotting.

I need to write frotting.

I need to frotting.

frotting.

[f4g4um]

lets rub dicks :333 lets get eachother wet :3333

[banjo-butch]

this is what t4t looks like

[dumbass-doe]

doe has realized just how much she loves size difference,, gods i love the visual here ;/////; little big reminders 🦌💜

little doe loves showing off why she's little doe >\\\<

[rancidboypeach]

wanna come over to smoke? maybe make out with the bong between us? Pausing to take rips while we grind and frot against each other? getting lost in how wet and hot smoking makes you and how every touch just feels so good

[mouseyratz]

Ugh real real real I was thinking Abt this at work yesterday :'- 0

Fuck I need another trans guy to frot with. Let’s rub our swollen t-dicks together as we get all fucking wet.

[tgirldomme]

why is frotting the best thing since sliced bread?!?!

and i don’t just mean typical transfem-transfem frotting (although god knows it’s amazing)

i mean rubbing my cock back and forth on a needy tdick while i watch a pretty boy squirm. a pure glans-to-glans makeout session. i mean bragging about him how much bigger i am before i pound his throbbing boycunt into a pulp.

i mean slowly brushing our clitties together when we’ve gotten too tired to keep going, enamoured with the afterglow of lovemaking.

[thezekezeal]

Can’t stop thinking about intercrural awowggqjaggawooworufwoofwoof

[needystar]

Normalize waking up with my legs spread and pinned down and someone humping and rutting into me cause they saw me sleeping so peacefully in my little shorts and tank top and couldn’t resist themselves from having their hands all over me.

They wouldn’t stop when I wake up and realize what they’re doing “Sorry puppy, you looked so cute I couldn’t hold back.” I’d moan and whine and cum in seconds from only getting humped.

[nevadaafterdark]

-> FARMBOY ON COWBOY ACTION <3

synopsis: thinking reeeaaally hard about working on a ranch/farm and pining over one of the really hot cowboys that work the cattle..

word count: ~900

(contents: t4t ftm4ftm, pet names (farmboy, beau, shug), frotting, fingering, light bullying/degradation, slight body betrayal, dubcon, nsft)

i'm still kinda new to writing porn! feedback is appreciated <3

you've been working on a farm, or maybe a ranch. the technicalities don't matter. maybe you're doing some of the lighter work, like tending to the chickens. y'know, collecting eggs, breaking broody hens, making sure the momma hens are getting enough to eat and drink as they stay with the eggs. it's a work-intensive job, but relatively light on the body. your boots are broken in but not overly worn.

but god if you can't keep your eyes off that one cowboy that saunters around like his dick is too big to fit in his blue jeans. he rides that shire horse like he's riding into war even though he's only herding cattle. you're lucky you can dish out excuses like watching the pasture for foxes and snakes when you're looking out at the cattle fields.

and yet, of course, luck isn't always on your side. one day, he confronts you about your lingering eyes (something about "you got a lazy eye? or a lack of respect?"). you adamantly deny everything -- obviously -- if only for the sake of his ego not growing too big. sure, you've interacted before, but this is new.

he laughs and takes your hand, his callouses abrasive against your softer hands. with less effort than you think it should take, he tugs you up into the saddle, practically on his lap. he laughs against the nape of your neck, his hot breath against your skin making you dizzy.

"what's the matter, farmboy?" he mumbles, his lips brushing against your skin. it sends electric tingling down your spine. "scared to take a ride? i just wanna show you somethin', that's all."

you deny it (saying something about the other workers not being competent enough to watch for hawks, which is honest-to-god bullshit) and squirm in the saddle. he wraps an arm around your waist and hisses out a warning to stay still. he squeezes the horse's sides with his calves and you're jostled as the horse starts walking, then trotting towards the treeline.

you ask him what he thinks he's doing. he just laughs, nipping at your neck and squeezing your middle again. his fingers find your belt and fiddle with the buckle. "it's alright, shug. i ain't gonna kill you or nothin'."

after a few minutes of riding (and his fingers dipping into the waistband of your pants but laughing and taking them out when you gasp), the horse comes to a stop in a forest clearing. he lifts you off the saddle, then hops off.

he unhooks his personal bag off the horse's saddle and drapes it over his shoulder. he gives the horse's dock a light slap, and it canters off, back towards the ranch.

the clearing is nice -- there's wildflowers dotting the tall grass and a rocky crag shadowing half the clearing. he stands behind you, his hands finding your belt buckle again. you gasp, and he laughs, breathy against the shell of your ear.

you call him an asshole and he just laughs again. "oh, you don't mean that, shug. i can tell."

before you can protest, his hand dips into your pants, his fingers immediately gliding over your tdick and running the pad of his finger down your slit. he chokes back a groan. "fuck. goddammit -- you just walk around like this, huh?"

you exhale heavily and deny it. you deny it even though you're hard, even though you're dripping, even though you're fighting the instinct to buck your hips into his hand.

he grinds against your ass, his belt buckle digging into your skin as he dips a finger in you. you hiss, and he laughs. "what, don't like that, farmboy? then maybe you shouldn't be walkin' around, wet and ready and just waitin' for someone to take you."

you huff, your breath becoming more labored as he starts moving his finger. you scoff and your head falls back against his shoulder as he adds a second, rubbing the heel of his hand against your tdick with every motion. he curls his fingers, his fingertips brushing against that rough spot inside you that makes you spit and curse like a feral cat.

"fuck this," he growls under his breath. he fumbles with your belt buckle, undoing it before undoing the button of your jeans and tugging down the fly. he circles around you, undoing his own belt, button, and fly.

he flicks the body of his bag behind him, then grabs your waist with enough force to bruise and brings your hips to his. both you and him let out strangled sounds as the heads of your tdicks bump and rub against each other. he ruts against you, groaning lowly.

"goddamn, shug, you're so fuckin' hard," he manages through his whining noises. "do i do this to you? don't answer, i already know."

you hiss out something along the lines of telling him to shut the fuck up, choking back your moans. you angle your hips and grind forward. both you and him groan and curse and just rut against each other like desperate mutts.

he guides you backwards, pushing you back against the bark of a tree, still grinding against you. he pulls away a little to reach into his bag. he pulls out a strap-on, one that's thick and heavy and matches his brash personality perfectly. the harness clinks as he holds it up with a shit-eating smile.

"you ready for the main show, farmboy?"