| " | \n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tOver a decade ago, back when I first joined the furry fandom, driven by the insane lust of puerile hormones, I created an account over at F-list... "ilegally" because I was still a minor, barely, but still a minor. Back then I used to go by, and play as a coyote boy/tween, and my particular kink was that enjoyed cross-dressing, and getting fucked while wearing girly clothes, or any variation that my libido would derive out of that baseline. I can't remember if I ever drew a picture of my fursona back then or if I deleted the file; even if I did draw him, I didn't had the skill nor the humility to understand that my drawings sucked ass to actually improve and do something decent, so nothing of value was actually lost. After a couple months as a tourist of Virtual Sodom, after meeting and roleplaying with the usual run-of-the-mill men that would leave the chat as soon as they came, I met a man that was particularly fond of me, or the cub I played... or the "someone" I faked being while hiding my true identity between the stories we wrote. What peaked my curiosity --the thing that was interesting about this man-- was that he didn't straight up went in "for the kill." He enjoyed the process of building up a story, of telling something; he slowed the pace of the narrative in such a delightful way that I could only hope for the story to continue for as long as possible, just so I could continue edging to his words. I assume that my particular and almost insufferable affection (addiction) to psychoanalysis came out of interactions like this one, because he wasn't the only nor the last person I "played" around with like this, but I digress. As months went by, we switched from F-list over to Skype, and got to voice chat a couple times. That's what marked the beginning of the end of our "relationship." During our voice chats, he realized that I was still a minor, and something changed. He actually started being a bit more "aggressive" in our roleplay sessions. For the few that remained, that is, as we only roleplayed three more times after chatting over voice. Each of those roleplays were of increasing intensity. They were not gruesome or violent at all, but still, the stories he was writing felt more real, as if the knowledge of me and my boy actually being substantially (in an ontological manner) related, elated his senses, and coaxed him out of his modesty, bringing forth the animal (pun intended) he actually was. When he wrote the final period of the last roleplay we shared, he blocked me, leaving me with a sticky mess in my hand and the feeling that I had done something wrong. I tried messaging him a couple times, not completely understanding if I missed him as a "friend" or if I missed the almost daily e-sex I used to get out of his companionship. Why am I writing this? I don't know. I remembered this whole thing while taking a shower, and decided to do a small show-and-tell out of it; let it serve as a cautionary tale or as fap material for someone else, either way, I'll be more than content with your choice. The pictures are somewhat related to the stories we, the anonymous man and I, used to share.\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t | \n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t