Just Another Lonely Night

I've been single for so long now that I don't even know why I bother trying anymore. Tonight was just like any other night, no dates, no prospects, and my bed feels colder than ever before. So I did what I always do: ordered a few beers from the corner store, pulled up some old porn on my laptop, and hoped it would somehow fill the void inside me. I watched as a man fucks another man on screen, their bodies slick with sweat, their groans echoing in the room's silence. I touched myself too, running my fingers over my hard cock, stroking down its length until my hand was slippery with pre-cum. The guy on the screen grinds harder against his partner, and I follow suit, shifting to reach a bit further inside. Sometimes it feels like no one will ever really see me for who I am, a trans man in my 20s still figuring things out. But tonight, just for these few moments, I let myself pretend otherwise, I pretended that the person touching me wasn’t a screen or my own hand, but someone else’s. I came after what felt like hours, though it was probably only minutes. My hand slipped down over my balls as I relaxed back into bed, still feeling the phantom warmth of another body against mine. Yet here comes reality again: no one else ever will.