My Girlfriend Watched a Trans Woman Dominate Me

After the divorce I took a long time to rebuild myself. It wasn’t just about picking up the pieces of a house that was no longer mine, but about learning who I was again when no one was watching me. In that process I didn’t give up anything I liked; on the contrary, I stopped asking guilt for permission. When I met Lorena, I was no longer the man who hid. I was someone who knew exactly what he wanted and who was willing to say it out loud.

With her, the sex worked from the very first night. There was a strange kind of chemistry, one of those things you can’t force, where each person guesses what the other wants before they ask for it. That’s why, after a few months, I decided to be honest. I didn’t want to drag another secret into a new relationship.

—There’s something I like that I never told anyone in so many words —I told her one night, still breathing hard.

—Say it —she replied, resting her chin on my chest.

—I’m attracted to trans girls. To trans women. I’ve had a couple of experiences, and I wouldn’t trade them for anything.

She didn’t look away or change expression. Lorena had an open past, partners with whom she’d explored everything, and that night she just nodded like someone receiving one more piece of information about the person beside her.

—It doesn’t bother me that you like that —she said—. I think it’s honest that you’re telling me.

That’s when I thought I had free rein. I was wrong, at least partly.

I let a few weeks go by and then I put it to her straight: I wanted a threesome with a trans woman. Her answer was a flat no, but not angrily.

—I can understand that you like that —she explained—. What I’m not going to do is get involved myself. And I don’t want you doing it behind my back either, because that would be betrayal.

She was right, and I knew it. But I still didn’t give up completely. I turned it over in my head until I found the formula that could actually work.

—What if you just watch? —I blurted out one afternoon—. You sitting there, not touching anyone. Me with her, and you decide how far I go.

That idea made her eyes shine in a different way. It wasn’t the desire to take part; it was the curiosity of having control from a distance, of watching me turned into something she had never seen before.

—I’d do that —she said slowly—. I’d sit and watch. And you’d do what I tell you.

***

Finding the girl was easier than I’d expected. I’d been texting for several days with a woman who called herself Mara, and who had exactly the energy I was looking for: calm, confident, with a sharp sense of humor. We agreed on a day, a time, and an apartment I rented so Lorena would feel comfortable in neutral territory.

On the afternoon of the date, the two of us were waiting. To kill the nerves, we started touching each other on the bed. I asked for what she already knew, what we did in private when we wanted to break the routine.

—Do what you always do —I murmured, turning my back to her.

Lorena knew what I meant. Her slender fingers, those carefully manicured fingers that had driven me crazy so many times, began to stimulate my ass slowly and deliberately. I was lying face down, surrendering to that familiar sensation, when the doorbell rang.

—She’s here —she said, and I noticed a new tremor in her voice. It wasn’t fear. It was anticipation.

She got up to open the door while I stayed lying there, my body still hot from what we’d just started. I heard the door, some polite words, and then Mara came into the room.

She was taller than the photos had suggested. She wore a short skirt, a fitted blouse, and a smile that seemed to know in advance everything that was about to happen. She came straight to the bed, leaned over me, and gave me a long, deep kiss without asking permission. A kiss that wasn’t a greeting, but possession.

Lorena sat down on the sofa beside the window, legs crossed, silent. From there she saw everything. She didn’t say a word, but her gaze weighed on the back of my neck like a hand, and that quiet presence made me more nervous than the stranger actually on top of me.

Mara smelled like a sweet, almost cloying perfume that mixed with the room’s heat. Every time she leaned over me, her hair brushed my back and raised goose bumps on my skin. There was something about her confidence that undid me: she moved as if the apartment were hers, as if I’d been waiting exactly for that afternoon for weeks.

***

Mara wasted no time. While she kissed me, her hand went down to my cock and started stroking it with a firmness that stole my breath. Little by little she moved her fingers farther back, searching for the same spot Lorena had been opening minutes earlier. She jerked me off like that for a good while, kissing my neck, my shoulders, my back, while she twisted my body to her liking until she had me on all fours on the mattress.

In that position she slid her fingers in and out of my ass with a patience that left me defenseless. And the most unsettling thing was that, while she did it, she was chatting with Lorena as if nothing were happening.

—Are you sure you don’t want to join in? —she asked with a smile, without stopping moving inside me—. There’s room for both of us.

—No, thanks —Lorena answered, laughing—. I came for something else.

—And what did you come for?

—To see him scream like what he is. —Her voice changed, turning low, playful, and cruel all at once—. And I’m warning you: if he doesn’t scream, I’m done with him. Forever.

I felt a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold. It was the first time I’d heard her talk about me in that tone, as if I were an object the two of them were evaluating.

Mara accepted the challenge. She started thrusting her fingers more roughly, while with her other hand she squeezed my cock and brushed my balls. Lorena told me to scream, and I obeyed. At first pretending a little, then without needing to pretend at all, because pleasure tore sounds out of me I had never made in front of anyone.

I was screaming like a madwoman and my girlfriend was watching me enjoy it. There was no turning back.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Lorena on the sofa. She wasn’t uncomfortable. Her cheeks were flushed, one hand clenched on her thigh, lips parted. She was getting just as turned on by it as I was, and that certainty excited me more than any touch.

We had never played at this, but I discovered she had a natural instinct for giving orders. Every command she gave sounded firmer than the last, as if with each word she were understanding the power she had over me in that room. And I, on all fours, sweating, realized that the person I thought I knew was hiding a side that drove me crazy.

***

Mara was still dressed. She hadn’t even taken off her blouse, and I was dying to see her naked, to kneel in front of her and take her cock into my mouth. But shame held me back. Doing it in front of Lorena was crossing a line I wouldn’t be able to come back from.

Curiosity beat shame. I reached my hand under her skirt and found her hard, hot. I stroked it slowly, feeling its weight, while she kept working my ass. I had already lost track of how many fingers she was using to open me. I only knew that I wanted more each time.

With her free hand, Mara took my cock and began to jerk me off with relentless rhythm. I writhed on the mattress, contorting myself like never before, giving in to long, high moans. I came with such intensity that I was left shaking, crying out shamelessly in front of my girlfriend.

And then Mara did something that finished breaking me: she collected my semen with her fingers and pushed it into my ass, not wasting a drop, never stopping fucking me.

—So you don’t forget who’s in charge today —she said softly, just for me.

I looked at Lorena. She nodded, satisfied, like a director approving the scene.

***

Only then did Mara take off her clothes. She removed the blouse, the skirt, everything, and climbed on top of me while kissing the back of my neck. I felt her cock pressed against the entrance of my ass, and a knot of nerves tightened in my stomach.

—Is your girlfriend jealous? —she whispered in my ear, pushing just a little.

—No —I answered, my voice tight.

—You sure? —she insisted, gaining another millimeter. It was starting to hurt.

I clenched my teeth and said it louder, almost like a declaration:

—She’s not jealous.

It was like permission. Mara pushed all the way in with all her strength, and I screamed for real, a scream that came from somewhere I’d never reached before. It hurt, it burned, and at the same time I didn’t want her to stop. I was getting fucked in front of my new partner, with nothing separating us, and she was still watching from the sofa.

Mara wasn’t the biggest I’d been with, but she moved with a roughness that brought tears to my eyes. And Lorena loved that.

—Scream —she ordered from her corner—. Cry if it hurts. I want to see you cry.

I gave her what she wanted. I exaggerated the moans, let the screams out, cried a little from pain and a lot from something I couldn’t name. Every time my voice cracked, I saw Lorena stirring on the sofa, biting her lip, mesmerized.

Mara rammed into me faster and faster, digging her fingers into my hips, until suddenly she pulled out. I felt her hand moving furiously behind me and then the heat of her cum spilling over my ass cheeks, in spurts accompanied by a rough growl.

She collapsed for a second over my back, catching her breath. I stayed motionless, emptied out, my body marked and my mind blank.

***

Mara dressed slowly, gave me another kiss on the lips, and said goodbye to Lorena with an understanding smile, like two people who had just shared a delicious secret. When the door closed, the apartment was left in a thick silence.

Lorena got up from the sofa and came over to the bed. I thought she was going to say something serious, that maybe she regretted it. Instead she sat beside me, brushed a lock of hair off my forehead, and looked at me with a mix of tenderness and mockery.

—So this was you —she said—. This was what you were hiding.

—Did it bother you? —I asked, still not quite catching my breath.

—Quite the opposite. —She leaned in and kissed me softly—. I’d never seen you as much yourself as I did a little while ago.

From that day on, something changed between us. Lorena started calling me “shrill little faggot” with a smile, in private, when she wanted to remind me of what she had seen. And I, who for years had carried that desire in silence, discovered that surrendering in front of the right person didn’t make me less. It made me, at last, whole.

We never spoke about that afternoon with embarrassment. We kept it as what it was: the day I stopped hiding and she decided to watch. The day I showed her, without disguises, exactly who I am.