The Afternoon a Travesti Met Her True Stud

I pulled the white sheet away from my face, the one that covered me completely, and lay there a while staring at the ceiling. The light coming in through the window was faint, almost orange, the sun was setting and there was hardly any noise in the street. I felt something strange in my chest that afternoon, a mixture I wouldn’t know how to name. Nostalgia, maybe.

I had fallen asleep around three and woke up to the opening arpeggio of a Deftones song I had on repeat. I love that song, and hearing it in that чужой hotel room made waking up feel more unreal than usual. The sound was enveloping, faithful, filling every corner. Sometimes I fall asleep listening to music and wake up inside it.

It was almost time for my meeting with Rubén, though he never introduced himself by that name. He called himself Pistón, just like that, nothing more, as if he were a brand and not a person. The idea of finding out whether he really lived up to that nickname had my head spinning. On the phone he had been direct, even curt. No lingerie, he told me. No flirting, no pretty clothes, no foreplay.

All he asked was to be able to open the hotel room door and find me naked, on all fours, with my ass lifted high and spread open with my own hands, ready for him.

—I’m going to make you my bitch —he had told me in that deep voice of his—. Just let me do my job. I’m not going to give you any respite. You’re not going to touch your dick even once; all the pleasure is going to be from behind. The only thing I’ll let you do is play with those little tits of yours. And I’m not taking it out until I’m done.

He told me all that, and the truth is it turned me on like few things ever had. With just those words I got wet, my travesti clit started dripping and soaking my panties, my nipples went hard, and I felt an intense itch deep inside. This was years ago now, but I found myself remembering the details one by one, because it was an afternoon that made me sluttier, more myself than I had been before.

It was five-thirty. I got out of the shower, put on just a little makeup, fixed my hair and doused myself in perfume. In half an hour the man who claimed he would turn me into his bitch in a single session would be walking through that door. The clock on the bedside table moved slowly, and my heart did exactly the opposite.

***

Pistón was punctual. The door opened softly and I was already in position, on the bed, sticking my ass out as much as I could so he’d see it as soon as he came in. My heart was pounding out of my chest. My hands were on my cheeks, spreading them, trying to open and close the hole as if I were winking at him from far away.

I closed my eyes and only heard his voice coming closer.

—Hello, Camila —he said slowly—. My God, what a beautiful sight. Perfect. You followed my instructions to the letter. Naked, in position, that body, that ass. I can see you’re no newbie, this one’s already well used. But today you’re going up a level.

I heard him undress immediately and couldn’t keep my eyes closed. I opened them and saw him in person for the first time. It was delicious to look at him. He had brown skin, was very tall, with a defined abdomen. His dick and balls were completely shaved, and he was very well endowed. His testicles hung heavy, prominent, full. You could tell from a mile away he had been holding back for days.

He finished removing the last garment while already stroking that dick of his, which scared me a little for how big it was. Fear mixed with desire, that combination that drives me crazy. He spread my cheeks with his hands, let a thread of saliva fall right in the center, and shoved it in all at once, slowly but without pause.

—Get used to the thickness, bitch —he murmured—. Ready? Now get used to the length.

I let out a cry before I could stop myself. It was rough, direct, no mercy. Luckily my ass was already trained with toys, because otherwise I don’t know how I would have taken it. I clenched the sheets with my fingers and took a deep breath, trying to loosen up.

About ten minutes passed of what he called warm-up: quick movements, sharp thrusts, a getting-started that was already too much for me. But then I truly met Pistón. The rhythm changed all at once. He started pounding me faster, harder, keeping a cadence that never let up. He entered so quickly that a little air slipped in with him, and I couldn’t stop moaning like a crazy woman.

I had no choice but to take it and bear down a little to make way for him, that weird technique that’s like trying to shit in reverse, the only way to take him all the way without splitting open. It really took me somewhere else. He gave me no rest. Every so often he pulled out all the way and just looked at me.

—Look how you ended up —he’d say—. You’re deep, bitch. You’ve got a hole that can take anything. You’re left open and throbbing, begging for more.

And then he’d shove it back in to the hilt.

My ass made little sounds from how stretched out I was, and that only turned him on even more. He kept drilling me with more and more enthusiasm each time, as if those sounds were permission. I wasn’t fully there anymore. I was in some kind of trip, floating, still on all fours, feeling him get in deep over and over, with nothing in the world able to stop him.

I started rubbing my nipples. I was dying for him to suck them, but he stayed focused on what he was doing, on his one mission. I didn’t even realize I’d already come just from the excitement. My little cunt had shrunk up, tiny as a rosebud, dripping onto the sheets without me doing a thing.

Pistón kept fucking me and I was on autopilot now, nothing more than his toy. Then I felt his dick swell inside me, felt it get even harder.

—Take it out, please —I begged him—. I can’t take any more, I think I’m going to finish again.

—Hold on —he said, without slowing down.

—Oh, I feel like I’m going to come apart...

And I came again, this time consciously, feeling everything. My rectum contracted in waves around his dick, an incredible sensation, an orgasm that rushed up my whole back. I felt like his bitch for real, complete. Pistón had kept his word.

***

He finally pulled out, leaving my hole wide open, and turned me around to put his dick in my mouth. He unloaded all his cum there, thick, abundant. It was delicious to taste it all. I swallowed some and let the rest drip slowly out while looking him in the eyes the whole time. He’d cum so thick it looked like condensed milk.

How slutty I felt at that moment, on my knees, with his nectar sliding down my chin and him looking down at me with a half smile.

—Good, little whore —he said, catching his breath—. Now you’ve got an ass worth fucking. You showed endurance and grit. Congratulations.

And he gave my cheek a hard slap, a smack that echoed through the whole room.

The next day I had to put on ice packs. He left me irritated, with an enormous but pleasurable sense of emptiness, as if I were missing something I hadn’t even known I needed until the day before. It was the only time Pistón and I were together. We never saw each other again, and maybe that’s why I remember it so clearly.

I think he was military, or had been. The way he gave orders, his discipline, the way he measured performance without leaving anything to chance had something of the barracks about it. I was obedient, I delivered, I served as he wanted. And the truth is I felt honored to be able to do it, to draw that last smile from him before he got dressed and left without looking back.

I turned off the music when the door closed. The room fell silent again, with that same orange light from before, and I lay back under the white sheet, sore and satisfied, feeling more woman than ever. Pistón, wherever you are, you more than delivered.