This began as just a note to my lover with whom I had spent an incredible night with, but it got me so hot writing it, I thought others might enjoy. I am not a man. I am a trans woman enjoying the role of being a Sissy slut.So, sitting in my Uber on the way home, I let out an audible gasp as I felt the cum leaking out of me, into my panties. The driver asked if I was okay. I said sure, I’m fine, but snuck a hand under my skirt to make sure it wasn’t leaking onto his seat. It wasn’t.
"OMG..." I thought to myself, he bred me. And now I know what it feels like to have jizz pooling into my panties, like a real girl in the regular world. Part of me wanted to answer the driver with: “Actually, cum is leaking from my fuckhole right now because I let a man breed me last night.” I didn't. I felt different, I felt accomplished. Yet, I still felt a little shaky from what had happened to me.
I remember my brain telling me to make him stop, to put the condom back on, but my body betrayed me, telling me to take his cum, just take it. He was pounding into me so hard and so desperately as his orgasm built, I couldn’t ruin this moment for him, or for me, as his big black cock kept rubbing my g-spot, making me feel so fucking good, my face in the pillow to quiet my screams, even as my ass stretched open more and more from the pounding. So I pushed back and turned my head to tell him I was his slut, and begged for him to keep fucking me, just like he was. He did, his big, thick, black cock pulling almost all the way out, then slamming into me, all the way, taking my breath away each time. I told him to cum inside me, I told him I wanted it deep inside me.
Then one last thrust, and all of his weight was impaling me, burying his hard cock in me as far as he could to share his cum- his essence deep inside of me, marking the territory he had seduced, teased, and then used for his sexual pleasure... to finally use as his depository, and I held my breath and accepted his cum, his semen, his jizz inside me, his sperm was my responsibility now to carry, as I felt him twitch and pump it all into me, deep inside, except for what I could feel dribble out of me when a minute later he pulled his shrinking cock out of my hole, both of us still gasping for air.
He paused and spread open my ass briefly to see it, to see my most private entry dripping with his seed, and his chuckle told me that he was pleased. He then rolled off, done with my body, as it had served its purpose for now. It had aroused him, responded to him, opened up to him, and more than willingly pulled his big load of cum out of him, letting him pump it into my fuckhole, my asspussy, my ass, my cunt. A new name for it, and for me, when, at the beginning of his orgasm, through his clenched teeth, I heard him, half whispering and half growling: "Take it! Take my cum you dirty little fucking CUNT!" making my body, maybe my entire being, quiver with excitement at being called just a cunt...just a thing to use, to fuck, to fill however he wanted. It was magical, like an orgasm of the soul, although not necessarily of the body. My little clitty didn't spurt, but everything else still was tingling as my king nodded off, happy and exhausted from our long night of teasing, and giving, and spanking, and biting, and sucking, and fucking. Quietly, I got up and got dressed, and left him there, naked, sprawled across the bed. As the sun came creeping into the room, I crept out, not even caring about my tangled hair or smudged eyeliner. I had gotten royally fucked, and didn't care if people knew it or not, in fact, I was quite proud of it.
So I called my Uber, and while I looked down, seemingly disinterested in anything but my phone, I saw the driver sneak a few peeks in the rearview mirror, and the long glance at my legs as I entered the back seat, at 7 AM, obviously wearing last nights fuck-me heels, and patterned fishnet nylons, and a skirt barely covering my ass. I felt so sexual, and had he asked, I would have gladly told him I spent the whole night getting fucked.
Getting out of the car, and standing up, I felt it again. As I thanked the driver and shut the door, I wondered if he could see it as I walked in front of his car, down into my driveway. If he could see the trickle of cum I now felt running down the inside of my leg, surely glistening in the morning sun before hitting the top of my boot. I secretly hoped he could. I hoped that If he could see it, that he would say something just loud enough for me to maybe hear, like people do—but not loud enough for me to call him on it. I strained my ears to hear “fucking slut” or “nasty whore” or anything else, really, because If he did, I would turn and show him the smile on my face, turning my leg out so there would be no question that I did have cum running down my leg. I wanted him to say something so I could slowly walk back to his window to ask him to call me that again. Please.
He didn’t say anything, or if he did, he didn’t say it loud enough for me to hear. Too bad. I made a mental note of him, so I could fantasize later about what I was fantasizing now, which was me riding him, there in the car, my secret spilling out over his balls, making it quite obvious that he was, indeed fucking a fucking slut, a filthy whore, or my new favorite, a dirty little cunt.
