Overview

AI Generated Male Nudes Images — Sixth and Seventh Galleries Notes on the images: - Poses are deliberately similar to minimize AI errors in the hands/feet. - Backgrounds are simple to avoid visual clutter/distortions. - The AI was always commanded to create images of +18 years old men, and I didn't use images that seemed ambiguous on this topic. Gallery 6: Twin Brothers Gallery 7: Tanned Red Haired Twink

AI Generated Male Nudes Images — Galleries +Extras Over the past few days, I’ve been using AI to bring some visual fantasies to life. This post compiles themed galleries of nude male "models" (all over 18 years old), each with consistent physical traits (though facial features vary due to AI limitations). Notes on the images: - Poses are deliberately similar to minimize AI errors in the hands/feet. - Backgrounds are simple to avoid visual clutter/distortions. - "Extras" section at the end includes images I liked but didn’t fit the galleries. - The AI was always commanded to create images of +18 years old men, and I didn't use images that seemed ambiguous on this topic. Hope these spark desire as much as they did for me. Gallery 1: Tattooed Rocker Dude with Long Hair Gallery 2: Latin-American Guy with Dyed Hair Gallery 3: Young Afro-American BBC Lean Guy Gallery 4: Blond Twink with Piercings Gallery 5: Jock with Glasses Extras (from the 5 galleries): Extra: Young Afro-American and Young Latin-American Gang Members

meowdy ! I'm Maple 20 years old, big fan of scenecore astetics and really old internet core transgender, and pansexual recently got into risk of rain 2, and redeveloped my hyperfixation for voices of the void. im cursed with people saying "oh, im going to stay in contact with you because you seem cool" and then we never talk

Hey Im Prismatic-Devil / Prismatic-D I'm a 34 yr old. Trash-core Homoromantic male. i am a literal walking contradictions of ideals I'm recently getting back into playing video games. mostly Bethesda games cause they are some of the easiest games to get mods for. i also enjoy JRPGS and mostly any single player games. Really wish i could find some fun games with nude mods here *shrug*

Bate Buddies In the vibrant tapestry of early adulthood, two best friends, both in their early 20s, navigate the throes of life with a zest for adventure and an unquenchable curiosity for sexual exploration. One, with a penchant for style, boasts a platinum blond buzz cut that's as eye-catching as his magnetic personality. His counterpart, equally charming but with a more laid-back aura, is adorned with a wild mane of black curls that frame his youthful face. Both young men are white skinned and slim, a testament to their shared love for living life on the edge. Their friendship is one that transcends the boundaries of the mundane, a bond forged in the fires of their outgoing spirits and their shared appreciation for the carnality of existence. Their shared past is marked by daring escapades and candid discussions about pornography, which began when the blond-haired friend coaxed his companion to indulge in a shared viewing experience. What started as a tentative exploration of taboo grew into a ritual of mutual masturbation, a silent pact of pleasure without the confines of romance or attachment. Initially, their forays into this intimate act were laced with awkwardness, but as the years unfurled, so too did their comfort with the shared vulnerability. They became accustomed to the sight of each other's naked forms, engaging in discussions about sex with the same ease as they might chat about the weather or the latest sports game. And so it was that one fateful evening, when their wallets were as barren as the fridge and the promise of a weekend without booze, weed, or pizza loomed like a dark cloud over their horizon, that they concocted a plan as ingenious as it was desperate. They had heard whispers of a mysterious figure, an anonymous benefactor who dabbled in the art of erotic photography and was willing to pay for a glimpse into the private lives of others. For a small amount of cash—enough to fill their bellies with greasy goodness and their veins with the warmth of intoxication—they agreed to allow this elusive artist to capture their most intimate moments. The deal was simple: strip down to their bare essentials and pleasure themselves in front of the camera, ensuring that every quiver, every gasp, every bead of sweat was immortalized in digital splendor. The allure of the cash was too strong to resist, a siren's call that promised to fill the void left by their dwindling funds. And thus, they embarked on a journey that would not only fulfill their immediate needs but also serve as a testament to the unyielding power of friendship and the lengths one would go for a good time. With the blinking red light of the camera as their only witness, they laid bare their souls—and their bodies—to the eager eyes of the beholder. 1.1 2.1 3.1 4.1

Evangelion kensuke

Evangelion Hentai Shinji Ikari And Kaworu and Toji And Ryoji and kensuke

Evangelion Shinji Ikari Kaworu Toji Ryoji

Can you say "Spa Day"?

Fantasy Scenario, Multiple - and Exaggerated - Ejaculations In the quiet of the early dawn, a young jock, a mere 18 years of age, stirred in his slightly disheveled bed. The soft light of morning streamed through the blinds, casting shadows across his well-defined body. His short, blond hair laid flat against his forehead, the sides shaved in the fashion of a modern Adonis. His eyes, a piercing shade of blue, remained closed as the effects of his recent nocturnal indulgence began to make themselves known. For the past few days, he had been the guinea pig for an experimental muscle-building serum, a concoction promising to amplify his gains beyond the realms of typical physical exertion. The results were already showing, with his lean, athletic frame filling out with the beginnings of a more formidable bulk. Yet, there was a side effect, one that was as potent as it was unexpected—an uncontrollable surge in his sex drive that not even his eager girlfriend could satiate. Ignorant of the impending consequences, he had doubled his dose the night before. A decision born of greed for greater power, a desire to push the boundaries of his physical capabilities. Now, as he awoke to the gentle hum of a new day, he found himself in the grip of an erection unlike any he had ever experienced. The engorged head of his uncut cock throbbed insistently, the veins pulsing with a primal urgency that seemed to have grown in the night. His shaft was thick and heavy, stretching his foreskin taut, the skin a deep shade of red that spoke of its unyielding stiffness. His body, usually a bastion of stoic masculinity, now quivered with need, a testament to the potency of the serum coursing through his veins. With a low groan, the young man reached down to palm his throbbing member. The sensation was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure through his core as he tentatively began to stroke himself. Each movement elicited a gasp, a silent testament to the intensity of his arousal. The young man's eyes flew open as the first wave of pleasure crashed over him. He had hoped to keep his moan of ecstasy contained, but the sheer power of his orgasm was too much. The sound echoed through the empty house, a primal shout that seemed to shake the very foundation of his room. His body arched off the bed, muscles tensing and releasing in a symphony of ecstasy as ropes of cum shot forth from the tip of his cock. It was an orgasm that seemed to come from the very depths of his soul, leaving him trembling and spent. But even as he collapsed back onto the bed, his body still quivered with the aftershocks of pleasure. To his surprise, his cock remained hard, the head a glossy pink from his recent release, the shaft still standing proud. He was left to ponder his newfound condition, the serum's effects clearly more profound than he had ever imagined. With a sigh, he pushed himself to his feet and made his way to the bathroom, his erection bobbing with every step. The journey to the bathroom was short, a mere few steps from the edge of his bed to the en suite bathroom. His cock, still standing tall and demanding, seemed to lead the way, pointing like a compass needle to his destination. As he approached the toilet, the need to piss grew stronger, his bladder protesting the neglect it had suffered at the hands of his raging hormones. He reached out to grasp the base of his erection, giving it a gentle tug before letting it spring back, the sensation making his eyes roll back in his head. Despite the urgency of his situation, his body seemed to revel in the exquisite discomfort. The bathroom, a sanctuary of white tiles and gleaming chrome, was bathed in the soft light of the early morning. He stepped over the threshold, the cool tiles a stark contrast to the warmth of his skin. His hand found the toilet handle and gave it a firm push, the lid rising with a quiet click. With a sense of relief, he stepped closer and positioned himself over the bowl, the tip of his cock just brushing the water's surface. As he began to urinate, the sensation was strange, almost erotic, a mix of pleasure and pain that seemed to fuel his arousal even further. His eyes drifted to the mirror, and he couldn't help but admire the reflection of his naked body, the play of muscles as they shifted and danced with each pulse of his stream. The young man took a moment to appreciate the newfound power within him, the way his body responded so readily to his desires. Having finished relieving himself, he moved to the sink, the need to cleanse himself from his earlier release overwhelming. He turned the faucet, the cold water rushing forth like a mountain spring. He cupped his hands and brought them to his groin, washing away the sticky residue of his first orgasm. His cock twitched in response to the cool water, the sensation sending a shiver down his spine. With meticulous care, he washed his cock, the water cascading over the swollen head and down his shaft. He took a moment to admire his handiwork, the water droplets clinging to the sparse blond hairs that dotted his pelvis. His hand lingered on his cock, the urge to touch it again almost irresistible. With the sink clean and the water turned off, he couldn't ignore the persistent throb that had taken up residence in his groin. He gripped his cock once more, his hand moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm that had him biting his bottom lip to stifle a moan. The second orgasm built quickly, a crescendo of pleasure that washed over him. The cum spurted out in a powerful arc, painting the sink in a pattern of white against the stark porcelain. He watched with a mix of amazement and lust as his body continued to betray his attempts at self-control. Even after his second climax, his cock remained stubbornly hard. With a resigned sigh, he cleaned up the mess, his hand moving almost automatically as he took care of the evidence of his unquenchable desire. Making his way back to his bed, he still felt full of energy and desire. His body was a maelstrom of sensations. The soft cotton of the bedsheets caressed his skin as he slid back into bed, his erection unyielding. In a haze of lust and curiosity, the young man couldn't resist the siren's call of his own body. He reached for his cock again. He had never felt such need before, such an insatiable hunger for pleasure. For hours, he stroked himself, his hand moving in a blur of motion. Each orgasm brought with it a symphony of sensation that seemed to resonate through every fiber of his being. He came time and time again, the sheets growing damp with the sweat of his exertions and sticky with the evidence of his passion. The room grew thick with the scent of his musk, the air heavy with the aroma of his cum. It was a heady perfume that seemed to intoxicate him further, filling him with a primal sense of pride. The sight of his bedroom, a testament to his unbridled lust, only served to inflame his arousal. He was a creature of desire now, a beast driven by instinct. The tissues piled up around him, a fortress of crumpled white that bore witness to his endless pursuit of pleasure. His strokes grew more erratic, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he pushed himself to the brink several times. Exhaustion began to set in, but even as his muscles protested, his cock remained stubbornly erect. He collapsed back onto the bed, his body spent and trembling. His chest heaved with each breath, his heart racing like it was in the final sprint of a marathon. The young man's body lay sprawled across the bed, a canvas of sweat and cum. His muscles, honed from countless hours in the gym and now enhanced by the serum, twitched with the remnants of his pleasure. His chest heaved with each breath, the rise and fall of his pectorals a testament to his exertions. His abs were a washboard of desire, each ridge standing out in stark relief as he lay there, panting. His thighs, thick and powerful, were splayed apart, revealing the swollen head of his cock. It lay there, glistening with the evidence of his release, a symbol of his unbridled passion. The room was a testament to his loss of control. His bedsheets were a tangled mess of white and grey, stained with the proof of his uncontrollable urges. The sight was both erotic and a little overwhelming, a visual representation of his descent into a world of pure, unadulterated lust. But amidst the chaos, there was a strange beauty, a raw, primal appeal that spoke to something deep within him. He felt alive in a way he never had before, his body a finely tuned instrument of pleasure. The young jock's voice, a blend of awe and apprehension, filled the quiet room as he spoke during his marathon masturbation session: "This thing just keeps growing, it's like a fucking monster." "I can't believe how good it feels to touch myself like this." "Every stroke is pure heaven, it's like my hand was made for my cock." "I've never cum so hard, it feels like it's tearing me apart." "It's like I can't get enough, no matter how much I shoot." "I don't know if I can handle this much pleasure, but I don't want it to stop." In the aftermath of his self-indulgence, he felt a strange mix of emotions. There was the pride of conquering his body's limitations, the thrill of his newfound power, but also a hint of fear. And as he lay there, his cock finally beginning to wilt, he knew he had opened a Pandora's box that could never be closed. 1.1 2.1 3.1 4.1 Extra (2 images)

William having some fun at the backyard pool with his daddies.

This is William, and he loves protein-rich breakfasts.

Sporty Guy (I), Boxing In the dimly lit, sweat-soaked confines of a small boxing gym nestled in the rugged embrace of the South Bronx, New York, the rhythmic thud of a punching bag echoed through the air. A young athlete in his early to mid-20s moved with the power of a storm. His skin, a rich tapestry of black, glistened with the sheen of exertion as each muscle flexed and danced under the soft glow of the overhead lights. The buzz cut that crowned his head was an unconventional canvas, painted a vibrant red that starkly contrasted with his natural black hair. This was not merely a fashion statement but a declaration of his fiery spirit, a spirit that had carried him through countless battles both in and out of the ring. His powerful physique, honed by years of training, was a testament to his unyielding determination. The gym was a second home to him. The creaks of the worn-out wooden floorboards and the faint scent of sweat and leather spoke of a thousand stories of triumph and defeat. The owner, a relic of the boxing world's bygone era, watched over the place with a gentle eye. An old boxer whose glory days had been etched into the very fabric of the gym, he saw in the young man the potential to carry the torch of his legacy. The trust between them was unspoken but palpable. This trust extended to the quiet hours after the gym's official closing, when the young fighter would continue to train, driven by a hunger that was not solely for victory. For, unbeknownst to the gym's elder guardian, the young athlete had discovered a curious way to fill the void in his bank account. His body, a masterpiece of sinew and strength, had caught the eye of a photographer with a penchant for the erotic. And so, after the last echoes of the day's sparring had faded, the gym would transform into a secret stage. The young man, stripped of his boxing gear, would stand before the camera, naked and aroused. The camera lens captured his passion, his vulnerability, and his desperation, immortalizing moments of pleasure amidst the stark reality of his struggle for survival. His body, a weapon in the ring, became a canvas of carnality in these stolen moments of solitude. The young man's cock was a marvel to behold, a towering monument to his burgeoning manhood. Uncut and thick, it hung heavily between his muscular thighs, a silent sentinel of his virility. When aroused, it grew to an impressive length. It was a secret weapon in his quest for financial stability, and a source of pride. The young man from the South Bronx had a speech pattern that was as raw and authentic as the streets he hailed from. His words flowed in a rhythmic cadence, peppered with the unmistakable accent of the area and the jargon of the boxing world: "This body of mine? It's all about the hustle, baby. Six-packs don't just pop outta nowhere, ya feel me?" "When it comes to size, I'm talkin' heavyweight champion." "I swear, sometimes I think my cock's got a heartbeat of its own, it's always... thumpin' for some action." "You should see me in the shower after a workout. Water just slidin' down my chest, my cock standin' tall like the Empire State." "I can go for rounds, keep pumpin' like a champ, ya feel me?" "I shoot my load like it's the final round, baby. You just gotta be ready to catch the glory." In the gym's cramped bathroom, the young boxer, his body still humming from the intensity of his workout, sat on the cold, hard bench. He was a vision of sweat-slicked masculinity, his broad chest rising and falling in deep, heavy breaths. The camera, a silent voyeur, captured the scene as he grasped his engorged shaft. The anticipation built, his hand moving in a steady, practiced rhythm. The room was thick with the scent of musk and the promise of release. With a grunt, his eyes locked onto the lens, a look of fierce dominance etched onto his handsome features, he began to cum. The first rope of thick, white semen shot forth. His arms, muscular and powerful, flexed behind him as if to showcase the raw strength that had brought him to this moment. His abs clenched tightly as the orgasm washed over him in waves, each spurt a declaration of his primal prowess. And as he came to the end of his performance, the camera lingered on his face, a picture of raw ecstasy. The scene was a study in contrasts: the tender intimacy of a solitary climax juxtaposed with the brutal backdrop of a fighter's sanctuary. 1.1 2.1 3.1 (It's not perfect: in image 3.2, the boxing gloves seem somewhat “glued” under the arms, my "justification" for this odd detail is to imagine that the gloves are hanging on small supports on the wall; I'm sure there are other weird details at other images) Sporty Guy (II), Soccer In the vibrant city of Bogotá, Colombia, where the sunsets kiss the Andean peaks with fiery passion, there lived an early to mid-20s man whose body reflected the athletic spirit of his heritage. He had grown up in the embrace of a middle-class neighborhood, where the air was thick with the scent of ambition and the rhythmic thud of soccer balls against the streets. His youth was a tapestry of soccer dreams, woven from the threads of sweat and hope, as he tirelessly trained his body to conquer the professional soccer fields of his homeland. However, as the clock of destiny ticked away the moments of his adolescence, it became clear that the grand arenas of his dreams would remain untouched by his cleats. The young man, with a physique sculpted by the gods of the game and a cock that had earned whispers of awe in the sacred locker rooms of his teenage years, decided to pivot his destiny. His eyes, once fixated on the glint of the soccer trophy, had shifted to the seductive glow of the camera lens. His decision was made with the same swiftness as a goal scored in the final seconds of a match—he would become an online adult model. On a whim, he arranged for a photoshoot that would serve as his debut into this scintillating world. His hair, a testament to the fiery blood that flowed through his veins, was kissed by the lightest of blonds, a stark contrast to his natural hue that made him stand out like a beacon of lust. He chose a local soccer field, a place that held the echoes of his youthful aspirations, as the backdrop for his transformation. The sun cast its amber fingers across the field, setting the stage for a performance that would captivate the digital gaze of many. The camera clicked in rhythm with the beating of his heart as he disrobed, revealing the fruits of his labor. His muscles, honed by countless hours of training, rippled in the soft light of the afternoon. The green canvas of the soccer field stretched behind him, a silent witness to his rebirth. With the setting sun as his spotlight, he played a solitary match, his body moving with a grace that could only be described as erotic. The young man's speech, a delightful blend of his colombian roots and his english studies, often contained a blend of both languages and danced with the same passion and vigor that fueled his body on the soccer field. His english vocabulary, while not extensive, was chosen with precision, particularly when discussing sex. His words were raw and unfiltered, carrying the heat of a latin lover. His accent lent a certain charm to his speech, making everything he said sound like a caress whispered into a lover's ear. When he talked about his body, his voice grew thick with pride, each syllable a flex of his muscles. He spoke with the confidence of a man who knew his worth and the value of his assets, his accent painting a picture of a steamy, passionate encounter that left no room for doubt or hesitation: "You wanna see what I've got?" He says, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips as he unzips his shorts, revealing the tip of his cock. "I can score every time," He'd say with a laugh, the promise of his sexual prowess unmistakable. "Me gusta jugar solo," he'd admit with a wink, referring to his penchant for masturbation. "You like watching me?" he asks, a playful lilt in his voice, already knowing the answer. He'd sometimes throw in a "Que rico," as he touched himself, a simple, yet effective way to convey his pleasure. "You're going to love every drop," he'd proclaim, his eyes gleaming with the promise of a powerful climax. As the night cloaked the field in a velvet darkness, the field's illumination bathed him in a soft glow. He had played with a fervor that mirrored the passion he had once reserved for the game, leaving him sweat-drenched and grime-covered. The crescendo of his performance came when he approached the soccer ball, the object of his unbridled lust, and released his manhood's essence over it, a declaration of his newfound identity. The ball, now adorned with the evidence of his climax, was a symbol of his victory in this new arena. The camera captured every moment, immortalizing his transition from a soccer hopeful to an online adult model. His big uncut cock, once the subject of locker room banter, was now a testament to his sexual prowess. 1.1 2.1 3.1 (Some strange photo backgrounds regarding the goalpost on the soccer field, but it was difficult to match a pose well done with a well done background, so I opted for the best poses rather then "perfect" background representation)

Generating some pictures and stories of naked hot guys. Afro-Brazilian Guy, Carioca Favela Aesthetic Inspired In the bustling zona sul of Rio de Janeiro, an apartment owner, a older man of sophistication and intrigue, found his living space filled by the presence of a young, muscular afro-brazilian repairman. The sun painted the city with a vividness that seemed to highlight the stark contrast between the gleaming white walls of the apartment and the rich, dark tones of the repairman's skin. In his early to mid-20s and hailing from a nearby favela, the repairman exuded an unmistakable allure, a blend of youthful recklessness and a desperate need for cash that whispered of a life lived on the edge. As they engaged in casual banter, the owner couldn't help but notice the subtle signs of his visitor's financial strain. The frayed edges of his work clothes, the occasional furtive glance at the expensive decor, and the tension in his strong hands as they worked spoke volumes about the struggle he faced. The owner, ever the opportunist, saw in this young man a chance for a thrilling diversion, one that could potentially yield a collection of intimate and illicit photographs. The air grew thick with a tension that was palpable yet unspoken. The apartment, bathed in the innocent light of morning, seemed to hold its breath as the owner broached the subject, offering a substantial sum for a daring transaction. The proposal was simple: to capture the unclothed beauty of the youth's body on film. To the owner's surprise and excitement, the repairman, driven by his desperation and perhaps the thrill of the unknown, agreed. The living room, a pristine canvas of white, beckoned them with the promise of an erotic tableau. The plush white couch was the stage for this unanticipated performance. The curtains were drawn back, allowing the pure light to stream in and dance across the young man's defined muscles as he began to shed his layers of clothing. Each article that fell away revealed more of his form, a testament to his life in the city's underbelly. The room's minimalist decor served as a stark backdrop, making him the uncontested focal point of a scene that grew increasingly charged with anticipation and desire. The owner, a connoisseur of the male form, felt his heart race as he watched the young man's transformation from a hardworking stranger to an object of his desire. The thrill of the situation was intoxicating, a heady mix of power, beauty, and the tantalizing hint of potential danger. The young man, naked before the apartment owner, was a vision of beauty. His cock, even when at rest, was an impressive sight to behold, huge and heavy, nestled between his legs. His buzz cut hair, a stark light blond that contrasted sharply with his natural black roots, framed his face in a style that was as common in the favelas. His ass, toned from a life of climbing and running, was a masterpiece of nature. His smile, when it appeared, was nothing short of captivating, a beacon of charm amidst the ruggedness of his features. Yet, he could just as easily don a stern, stoic expression. The young repairman spoke in a rough, unrefined portuguese, sprinkled with the occasional curse word that reflected his machismo and sexual prowess. He talked about his sexuality with a bluntness that was arousing, often referring to his cock with a mix of pride and crudeness that seemed to amplify its presence. His sentences, often punctuated by grunts and curses, revealed a man who was proud of his body and his sexuality: "Eu sou o cara que elas procuram pra sentir um homem de verdade dentro delas." ("I'm the guy women look for to feel a real man inside them.") "Minha pica é o que as vadias da minha favela adoram, eu encho elas com meu leite." ("My dick is what the bitches in my favela love, I soak them with my cum." "Vou te dar um show que você vai se lembrar por semanas!" ("I'm going to give you a show you'll remember for weeks!") "Eu tenho uma piroca que vai te deixar sem fôlego..." ("I've got a cock that's gonna leave you breathless...") "Posso bater uma aqui?" ("Can I bust a nut here?") "Quando eu gozo, é pra valer, caralho!" ("When I cum, it's worth it, damn it!") The young man's performance had been nothing short of mesmerizing. He had come with a passionate intensity, his body convulsing as he released his seed. Now, he sat there, his chest heaving as he tried to recollect his breath, his arms casually thrown behind his head. His cock, still hard and proud, remained a testament to his virility, a beacon of desire that seemed to throb in time with his heartbeat. The apartment owner, unable to hide his admiration, handed over the promised sum of money, praising the young man for his performance while his eyes lingering on the glistening tip of the still-hard member. The young man's smile was wide and genuine, his teeth flashing in the sunlight as he took the cash, his eyes sparkling with a mix of pride and greed. "Valeu!" ("Thanks!") the repairman replied, his voice still thick with arousal. He had never felt so powerful, so desired, as he did in that moment. The cash was a symbol of his victory over the mundane, a tangible proof of his worth in a world that often overlooked those from his background. 1.1 2.1 3.1 4.1 5.1 6.1 (Did some workaround to avoid having to show the feet and hands, as they are usually poorly done)

may I ask, what skin and bosy hair mods do you use?

Hey, all. I'm a 30 year old gay trans guy. I've had top surgery but not bottom surgery (would like phallo but it's unlikely to be financially feasible any time soon). I like playing video games (especially The Sims and Stardew Valley), watching TV (my favorite shows are Corner Gas, Impractical Jokers, and The Venture Bros), and writing.

the Sims 4: Bust A Groove : Dance Summit 2001 Data BeBops Team Suzuki and Honda and 3D And G-Pan

Hey. I'm a 29-year-old gay transsexual* man who is currently attempting to go stealth after being out for a very long time. I'm mostly on LL for Sims mods; I've been playing The Sims since 2000. I also like to write and am very into the paranormal. *yes, I know this is an 'outdated' word; I have reasons for using it and will emphasize I am not here to debate politics, which is against LL's rules anyway; I'm not going to tell anyone else how they should label themselves and I only ask for the same courtesy in return

here's mine! It's supposed to represent me!

Hello! My name is Simon! I'm a pre-op transgenderman, and...I also suck at describing myself! My favourite colour is pink and I like to be very silly! Free hugs for all! <3