My Girlfriend Watched a Trans Woman Dominate Me
I had told her about my fixation on trans women, but I never thought she’d agree to sit there on that sofa and watch another woman put me on my knees.
I had told her about my fixation on trans women, but I never thought she’d agree to sit there on that sofa and watch another woman put me on my knees.
It was almost eleven when the elevator dropped me at the empty parking garage. I had no idea those keys would cost me so much, and so little, at the same time.
Every time my friend came through the door, she changed her clothes. One afternoon I made up an excuse, drove around the block, and slipped in through the back patio in silence.
When I opened my eyes, she was still inside me. I had no idea how long I’d slept—only that Soledad was smiling like someone who knows you have nowhere left to run.
I rented the room and turned off the lights, letting myself be spoiled like never before. Until my hand moved between her legs and found something I’d never imagined.
I kept my women’s clothes under lock and key, sure no one would ever see them. Until that man found the suitcase and asked me to dress for him.
No one knew my truth. I went to the matches just to watch his legs, until that afternoon he looked up and held my gaze as if he knew everything.
Downstairs our parents were toasting twenty years together. Upstairs, in his room, I had his cock in my hand and he wanted me to finally make a move.
I started by filling balloons with warm water so I’d feel like I had breasts. I ended up gluing them to my nipples and finding a pleasure I didn’t know I was looking for.
I knocked a thousand times and nobody opened. When reception let me in, I found suitcases that weren’t mine under the bed and an unmistakable smell.
Anyone would have thought we’d be sated after the banquet the night before. In this house, desire never rests, and that Sunday was about to overflow.
All it took was for her to make an insinuating move for me to get on all fours. That night I discovered she had two surprises hidden away, and only one was for me.
I hit send and left the phone face down. I wasn’t expecting a reply that same night. When he answered, I knew there was no going back.
My mother thought it was another man driving into her against the headboard. Beside her, my sister blew me kisses while my father fucked her mercilessly.
I’m 1.62 and he was 1.88. When he opened the door in shorts and I saw what he had between his legs, I thought about turning around. I didn’t.
Her nickname said “active transvestite,” and I’d only had one experience so far. That afternoon, in a hotel near the subway, I learned what it was to be truly dominated.
“Don’t rush,” she murmured against the wall. “I want to feel everything you do, slowly, until the whole night feels too short.”
I never said this out loud. This is one of those things: what my cousin planned with me that January, without my realizing it until it was too late.
I walked into that apartment with my bag full of lingerie and walked out transformed into something else: the obedient little puppy of two men.
When I went down for a coffee in the hotel’s empty café, I had no idea he’d leave the party to follow me upstairs with a bottle and a very specific idea.