Mx Nillin’s Monthly Refap: July 2017

[CW: image at the end shows NSFW image of a cute enby babe cover in their own semen]

It has been so fucking hot out y’all. Like, the vast majority of the last month in Saskatchewan has actually seen near historic highs of 35-40 degrees Celsius on average and where I live we experienced literally the hottest and driest July ever on record.

Yet despite this, I actually managed to ramp up productivity during the latter half of the month!


Blog Related Stuff

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Backyard Nudes, Buying Porn From Friends, A Taste for Erotica, and Fem Beards.

  • As part of the erotica chapter I wrote this month my partner took some fun lewd pics of me in our car parked out back of the place we rent. It was hot and sweaty out, and taking those pics in the early evening while neighbors went about yard work on the other side of fences was SUPER exciting. 
  • Speaking of erotica: I’m kinda hooked now! So, not only is chapter 2 of the prairie queers story in the works, but I’m also writing a story inspired by sex talk with and fantasies about a friend. Know what the best part about it is? She knows that I’m writing it, has consented to being involved in the piece, is excited to read it, and she even picked her character’s name! 
  • Earlier in the month my partner and I bought porn from good friends of ours who sell clips on Amateur Porn. We’ve been pretty close with them for a while and watching a hardcore sex video of them was seriously hot af. Keep an eye out for a post on more feels about that later!
  • I’ve purposely been trying to shave less often lately. For two reasons, really: 1. I’m fucking cute af and I’m tired of my facial hair making me feel less attractive, and, 2. I fucking hate shaving. So, I’m kinda all about finding where I feel best with stubble going on. Test selfies incoming to Twitter over the next couple of weeks!


More Cool Stuff

Taylor J. Mace at Feisty Fox Films always publishes outstanding content but the posts they were putting out last month REALLY got me in the feels. Specifically their pieces The Blogsquad, Making Conferences More Welcoming, and having crushes on your friends were hands down some of my favorite summer reads.  

One of my all-time favorite sex comics online is Alfie from InCase and I hadn’t really read it much this year so last week I caught up on, like, two Chapters and holy shit hot damn… if you haven’t read it before then you should seriously get the fuck on that. Here’s where it all begins: Chapter 1.

All my sex blogger friends are heading off to the Woodhull Sexual Freedom Summit and I am feeling simultaneously fucking stoked for them, and also sad that I’m not there. Please, everyone, have the best time and take all of the pictures!

I’m kinda all about this lewd Winnie the Pooh art right now.

Also, these Nintendo babes in cat keyhole bras & bikinis.


Sexy Selfie of the Month

Throwback lewd to that time I came all over my own face and dress then took cute facial selfies.

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Little Queers on the Prairie – Chapter One: Cumming to Hays

[CW: this story is sexually explicit and contains NSFW, nude images]

Max’s mouth feels so good around my girl cock, and the fact that my hands are clinging to the steering wheel just makes it all the more exciting. I quickly glance down just in time to see the playful look in their eyes as they pull my skirt over their head and take me deep.

This was exactly why I didn’t wear any panties today. A promise fulfilled.

I feel their throat open and convulse around me as their lips press firmly into my soft, trimmed pubic mound. Their tongue slides up and down the length of my shaft, then they pull ever so slightly away to grab me with with their hand so that they can jerk me as they firmly suck on head of my girl cock.

My eyes wander to the rear view mirror in time to see a speeding truck quickly gaining ground behind us. I grip the wheel tighter as the driver edges forward, trying to push me to go faster, but I won’t. Not with my girl cock pushed all the way to the back of my partner’s throat. When he realizes I won’t speed up, the driver signals to pass. Just as he pulls up beside us I feel myself getting closer to orgasm. The excitement of another driver, or their passenger, seeing Max’s head bobbing up and down under my skirt causes my legs to shake.

In my peripherals I see the passenger of the passing truck looking out their window. I can’t tell if their eyes are on me or some random point in the flat Saskatchewan scenery but I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t actually really want them to watch me getting my dick sucked. For a moment I even contemplate lifting my skirt so that whoever was in that passing truck could get a really good look at Max stroking and sucking my girl cock. So, I grip my skirt with my left hand, my heart beating faster as I ball the fabric up in my fist.

Before I can make up my mind about moving the skirt Max teases a finger around my ass hole and that does it for me. I arch my back and my body convulses as stream after stream of my thick cum fills their mouth. I hear them moan as they keep their lips firmly around my shaft to make sure they don’t lose a single drop. They then pop out from under my skirt, locking eyes with me, and I know what comes next so I instinctively open my mouth. With their head tilted they swoop in and kiss me, I keep my eyes on the road, watching the red truck get further and further away us, as I feel their wet tongue push all the cum from their mouth into mine.

For a moment I just let my cum sit there, being sure to move my tongue around so that I can really taste it, and then I swallow. It feels so damn good sliding down my throat, I wish I had more. The thought of it sitting in my belly makes my girl cock twitch with delight once again.

I sigh happily and wipe some ejaculate from the corner of my mouth with my finger, then lick it off.

Words can barely describe how much I love eating my own cum, though it was a relatively new thing to me. Before I met Max, I had long fantasized about eating my own cum but save for the few times I would climb my feet up my bedroom wall to jerk off on my own face, or lick some pre-cum off my fingertips while masturbating, there had always been a mental block keeping me from actually swallowing one of my own loads.

Then one warm afternoon last summer Max pushed me onto our bed, lifted my cute green dress up, pulled aside my lace panties, sucked me fast and hard, took a huge load of my cum in their mouth, crawled up me, grabbed me by the back of the head, and spit it all down my throat.

I’ve been hooked ever since. Between me regularly licking my hands clean after I jerk off, and Max feeding me my loads every other blowjob, I’d say I now consume about half of my cumshots in any given month. And it’s not the only thing that Max has got me hooked on since we started dating.

I was a really repressed person before they came along. Bitter, depressed, lonely, filled with internalized sexphobia, homophobia, and biphobia, I would secretly crossdress and fantasize about another life altogether. Feeling the soft satin of a nighty on my bare flesh, the stimulation of lace panties on my cock, I’d get so fucking horny. Orgasming while dressed fem was always way better and stronger then when I wasn’t wearing something fem. But deep shame swept over me every time. I’d take off all the fem, lacy clothes and would degrade and demean myself for wearing it. I genuinely believed that I could never, ever let anyone know about any of it.

All of that changed when I met Max. They empowered me, inspired me, and encouraged me to accept myself fully. Slowly I opened up more, unpacked my emotional baggage and embraced the kinky queer within. Eventually I officially came out, much to the dismay of my side of the family.

Fuck them though. I loved Max, I loved myself, and I loved the kinky, queer, non-monogamous life we were building together. We had no room for unsupportive, demeaning people. We were going to live our lives for us, and not hold back on the things that made us happy.

And right now the thing that made us happy happened to be the decision to drive nearly five hours from our conservative, small-town home in Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan, to a farm just outside Hays, Alberta, where we were most definitely going to fuck our friends all weekend.

“Do you think it’s actually going to happen?” Max asks me as they lean back in the passenger seat and pulls down their top, fully exposing their tits in the afternoon sun.

“I don’t know,” I say. “I guess we’ll just see what happens.”

Max sighs, closes their eyes, then squeezes and pulls on their nipples. I glance over to watch as they unbutton the top of their tight pants and slide a hand down between their thighs.

“I really hope so. I want to fuck them so bad. I want to suck Fynn’s cock with you, then I want you to watch me fuck him while I watch you fuck Rowan.”

I can feel my girl cock getting hard again.

I couldn’t believe that we were doing this. We had both known Rowan and Fynn from back before we even started dating, at a time when all of us were involved in the Roller Derby community in some form or another. Rowan and I were officials, Max was a player, and Fynn was Rowan’s supportive husband and fan in the stands.

I never would have imagined anything remotely sexual would have happened between us all. Then just a couple of months before our wedding, Fynn and Rowan visited us while passing through the area and that’s when the flirting started. Before long, flirting became sexting, sexting became sharing nudes, and sharing nudes became us all interchangeably mutually masturbating together long distance.

But now things were about to get to a whole other level. Max and I were driving over 480 KMs to spend a weekend with them, and they asked us to bring protection and our toys.

Fuck, I couldn’t wait to get there.

I reach down to touch myself but Max grabs my arm and stops me.

“No,” they say. “You already came. It’s my turn now.”

I want to disobey, but I don’t. My hands grip both sides of the steering wheel and I watch the road, glancing over occasionally to see what Max is up to.

Their moans and heavy panting fill the car. They rustle in their seat. I look over in time to see them slowly slide their pants down to their knees.

“Keep your eyes on the road,” they say, and I listen. It’s a struggle. I stare forward and strain to hear what they are doing.

Their voice quivers with pleasure. The familiar sound of their fingers sliding in and out of their wet cunt fill my ears. I glance over to see them practically fisting themself next to me. Their trimmed pubic mound and hand glistening with pussy juice.

“I said keep your eyes on the road,” Max firmly states.

“I’m sorry, Ser” I say, and look forward again.

There’s more shuffling. Max reaches behind my chair and grabs our travel bag. They’re going for their toy. I don’t even have to see it to know what it looks like. A long, thick, pink vibrator with a strong motor and and a built in clit stimulator. My girl cock twitches. I swallow hard as I feel some pre-cum trickle slowly down my shaft.   

Max groans and the oh so familiar muffled whirring of their toy, buried deep inside them, becomes all I can hear. As I watch the road I notice the faint reflection of Max’s gyrating hips in the windshield. There isn’t a lot of detail I can make out, but I see pink and I know it is the toy sticking out from between their legs.

“Oh, fuck,” Max grunts through quivering breaths. “Now look at me, you fucking whore.”

And I obey. As soon as I turn my head I see Max gasp, convulse, and pull their toy out. Then with their other hand they furiously rub their clit and squirt cum everywhere. My girl cock throbs as I watch their juices coat the seat, and the dashboard in front of them. Some drops even make it to the windshield.

Max sits in their mess for a moment, then looks at me and we both laugh.

“Well, that was fun,” they say.

“Fuck yeah, it was,” I respond. And I know it’s only going to get better. As Max wipes the cum off their wet mound with kleenex I swallow hard thinking about all the fun still to come with Fynn and Rowan. We’re so close now.

Only 100 more KMs to Hays.

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Why I Don’t Put a Period After the “Mx” In “Mx Nillin”

Fact: the vast majority of people I have interacted with throughout my life do not respect, or even acknowledge most of the terminology I used to describe myself, or that other non-binary or gender nonconforming people use for themselves either.

Also fact: most people will either pointedly, defensively, or aggressively, work to undermine the language that I and other queer and trans people use in an effort to reassert the language that THEY think we should use, all while expecting that I accept and respect their self-descriptors and terminology.

And that’s like…

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In my experience, people in general have a tendency to desperately cling onto “grammar”. They use it as justification for their invalidating, degrading, and dismissive behaviors toward trans and queer folx who make them feel uncomfortable, who scare them, or who they just dislike due to the generally ignorant and discriminatory belief systems they were raised under.

Those who adamantly believe in the absolutes of men and women, masculinity and femininity, or gay or straight, love to weaponize grammatical rules, dictionaries, memes, and to attack,silence, and repress anyone that dares exist outside of those parameters.

It’s fucking exhausting, to be honest.

I can’t even begin to tell you how often that people (both cishet and LGBTQ+) rant at me about my “made up, bullshit identity”, and my “made up, bullshit pronouns”, and “made up, bullshit terminology”. I can’t even begin to tell you how many self-ascribed allies insist that the way that I identify, and the way that I have transitioned, is somehow destroying the politics of the left.

Meanwhile, there are members of my own fucking community who also insist that I’m just some PC, special snowflake asshole out to ruin everything for the gays and “real trans people” by asking for such ludicrous things as basics rights and protection too, bodily autonomy, self-identification, to please not misgender me and use my pronouns, please. “It’s people like you that made Trump win the election,” I’m told by a gay man with a generic “love wins” profile pic. I know that he’s a gay man because he made very sure to preface his shitty comments with “as a gay man I feel that -”


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But fuck that. I’mma do me.

In early 2015, I took my first major step toward self-actualization and began using they/them/their pronouns (much to the distress of my family and some old friends).

If you don’t want to use those pronouns for me because [INSERT SHITTY EXCUSE HERE] that’s fine. You can lick my butthole while you’re at it.

Most recently, in early 2016, I moved to drop the misgendering honorific “Mr.” (which is still forced down my throat by most service providers, banks, and the Government of Canada), rejected the equally misgendering honorific “Mrs.” (which some tried to apply to me as they assumed I was a trans woman), and began utilizing the gender neutral “Mx.” It became a part of how I understood myself and introduced myself in general.

Eventually, “Mx. Nillin” became “Mx Nillin”. Why?

Because, fuck American honorific rules. Fuck cisnormative grammar rules in general, to be honest.

Think this is petty to post about? You know what else is petty? The countless people who insist on commenting on how I got my own name and honorific wrong because “grammar”.

No. It’s Mx Nillin, get over it.

And yes, I’m well aware that “Mx” is now acknowledged as acceptable in the Oxford English Dictionary. Well, fuck the Oxford English Dictionary too.

Your identity is valid. Your pronouns are valid. The terminology and language that you use to understand yourself and describe your experiences are valid. No fucking dictionaries or writing styles have any official say in any of that.

But don’t mind me. I’m just that angry queer.

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