Slutty

Slutty

A Vignette

By Maryanne Peters

I am pretty sure that I am one of those girls who give transwomen a bad name -- but do you think I care? The truth of it is that I love sex too much.

I got my fair share of sex as a man. Even though I was never really comfortable in my own skin, or perhaps because of it, I liked being inside a woman. I fucked plenty, but what I really wanted was to be on the receiving end.

Sometimes, I would like to imagine that I was. I would tell a girl that she should go on top this time, and ride me cowgirl. I would tell them that I was being generous, but what I really liked to do was to close my eyes and imagine that I was a woman being fucked by a man. I would part my legs a bit and I could feel as if my penis was a sleeve taking a giant cock with every rise and fall of the woman on top of me. I swear that these orgasms were the best, unless she ruined it but squeaking like a girl, totally unlike the man that she was supposed to be.

I decided that it was time that I should give up just imaging it and go out and get fucked for real.

That first time was my first time going out dressed as a woman. I wanted to go to a gay bar and make it very clear that I was a bottom -- a submissive gay man only interested in receiving. It was not even about passing as a woman -- the clothes were suggestive of sex. I was really driven by my desire to get a man to show me it was all about.

I had cleaned and lubricated myself and I had dilated a little to minimize discomfort, just in case the man I attracted was well-endowed. But I have to say that I was slightly disgusted by the whole notion of taking another man's organ into my dunghole.

But once he was in, I discovered all about continuous orgasm, and there was no going back.

The problem with being a man is that you are a slave to your anatomy. If things aren't going, you are never going to be coming. Taking the woman's role in sex means that even if he has not aroused you, you can lie back and wait as long as he can last. I am seldom disappointed, probably because feeling his explosion is almost always enough to send me over the top. I hear that not all women get that kind of pleasure, and that is bad news for them.

But for me, that first time, I had my first orgasm after only a few strokes. It was not the real thing, because the emission only came after the third orgasm. Even then he was not finished. It would have been for me if I was in his position, but I wasn't. I was lying back and he was just pumping away as waves of pleasure came over me.

How could I go back to having erections, or getting embarrassed and frustrated if they didn't come along? The fact is a man's appetite for sex remained, but without much ability to reward that appetite. Once I had discovered sex on my back, or bent over before him, then right guy can pleasure me for ages.

I decided that I needed to have a new body -- a body that is built just for sex -- a body designed to attract and please a man. That was what drove me to abandon living as a man. I wanted to have sex, and it was only a matter of time before I discovered that you don't have to wait until the end of the day to get it. Getting fucked at work is even more fun.

I am never ashamed to tell my men about who I am and what I was. I like to tell them that I am a special type of woman -- like all of the positive things and none of the negative things. I won't say no at certain times of the month, I am not expecting a proposal of marriage, I am not going to lump him with kids, I just want sex and plenty of it.

Maybe at the start I was less concerned about appearance than a girl should be, but I look good now. I have tits and my own hair, my body is soft and smooth and my legs are long, and now he has a choice of three orifices.

I dress well, for the person that I am. When I hang on a man's arm I know my job is to be beautiful and sexy, and be his. Men are judged by the women they parade with, and by how devoted they appear. I should know, because I was a man, once

It was just that I always knew that I was destined to be a woman. I just explain (if they ask) that I spent my youth working out what the perfect woman is -- what every man desires. It turns out that they don't mind if you are bigger and stronger than other women, as long as you are attractive and hungry. It turns out that real men like their girls a little bit slutty.

The End

© Maryanne Peters 2024