The Yacht Tranny Who Met a Different Kind of Man

Four months had passed since that party in the gated neighborhood of Las Lomas. I was no longer the timid Bianca who used to go down to Lorena’s apartment with shaking legs. I was Bianca, the most in-demand tranny escort in the city. My profile on the VIP sites was always at the top, and not by chance: I charged a lot and I chose who I was with. I had learned that other people’s desire was a currency, and I knew how to spend it.

So when Sebastián texted me at eleven in the morning, I read the message twice before answering.

—Private yacht —it said—. Bachelor party. We leave from the new port tomorrow at six in the afternoon and arrive on the coast in three days. Ten guys with a lot of money. They want you as the star. They’re paying a fortune for the whole trip. Lorena confirmed too.

I didn’t think about it too much. I said yes.

Three days on the water. What could go wrong.

The next day I boarded with Lorena on my arm. The boat was huge, white, three-decked, with a jacuzzi installed at the bow that gleamed under the afternoon sun. The ten men were already up there, all between thirty-five and fifty, shirt open and glass in hand. The groom was named Rodrigo, a blond guy with a hungry look who didn’t take his eyes off me from the first second.

—This is Bianca —Sebastián announced with a salesman’s smile—. The one I promised you. Enjoy her.

***

The party kicked off as soon as we cast off. The sun was dropping over the broad river while the yacht headed east, and the orange light came in through the lounge windows as if everything had been designed for a postcard.

Lorena and I kissed first. Slow, filthy, calculated, to get them started. We knew how to do it: hands on the waist, just the right tongue, half-closed eyes glancing at them out of the corner of our vision. I slid my hand under her dress and squeezed one of her tits hard, drawing a theatrical moan from her that made the ten guys settle into the sofas. She played back by biting my lower lip and sliding her hand down to grab my cock over the fabric. I was already hard, outlined beneath the short dress I’d chosen for exactly that reason.

—Look how hard it is —Lorena said out loud, pulling me out so they could see it—. All for you guys.

It worked right away. Within seconds I could already hear belts loosening, zippers coming down, the heavy breathing of ten horny men. One of them stood up first, opened his pants, and brought his cock to my face without saying a word. I took it in my hand and looked him up and down: thick, veined, already dripping. I ran my tongue all the way along it, from the balls to the tip, and then took it all the way into my mouth, down my throat. I spat on it, sucked it again noisily, letting a strand of saliva hang from my chin.

—Look how this whore sucks cock —the guy growled, grabbing my hair—. Look how she eats it.

They took me to the center of the carpet. There was no long preamble. They tore my dress off in two pulls and I ended up on all fours on the Persian rug, ass raised, my own hard cock hanging between my legs. One of them knelt in front of me and offered me his mouth; I shoved his cock all the way in, feeling him choke and watching the spit spill from the corners of his lips. Another got into position behind me, pried my ass cheeks apart with both hands, and spat on my hole before licking into it, sucking my ass with desperate hunger while I shuddered with pleasure.

—Put it in already —I asked without taking the other cock out of my mouth—. Break me.

I felt the head press against me, thick, and then the hard shove that opened me up all at once. I cried out with my mouth full, and the guy in front held my head steady so the one behind could keep fucking my throat in rhythm. I went back and forth on both cocks, feeling my cunt, my ass, and my mouth get filled at the same time, while I worked with both hands on two more cocks they’d brought up to my sides. Four guys at once, and I was cursing with pleasure, my voice breaking.

—Harder —Lorena said in my ear, kneeling beside me, sucking another cock with her eyes fixed on me—. So everybody can hear you. Show them what you’re good for.

I did as she said. I moaned without holding back, let my voice crack into dirty screams, and that drove them wild. It was a job, yes, but a job I knew how to do better than anyone. The difference between an expensive escort and a cheap one isn’t the body: it’s knowing how to read what the other person needs to hear. And these guys needed a whore who would scream that they should tear her apart.

—That’s it, little slut! Move that ass for me! —the one fucking me from behind growled, digging his fingers into my hips, and the rest cheered with laughter and slaps on my ass that sounded like applause.

They took turns on me for hours. In the lounge first, on the carpet, on the low glass table, with my knees slipping in other men’s cum. One came on my face and another shoved his cock into my mouth before I had time to clean myself, so I could suck him while mixing the other guy’s load with my saliva. Another had me spread my legs over the back of the sofa and hammered into me from the front, looking me in the eyes while he squeezed my tits and filled my ass with hard thrusts that made my whole body bounce.

Then they took me out onto the deck, against the railing, while the river wind whipped my hair and the spray splashed my back. Two of them grabbed my arms wide like a cross and a third took me from behind, fucking me standing up, my tits bouncing with the rhythm of the yacht cutting through the water. When he finished, he pulled out and marked my entire back with hot spurts that another man hurried to spread over me with an open palm.

—Stay like that, don’t wipe yourself —Rodrigo ordered from a deck chair, watching the show with his hand on his cock.

Later, in the jacuzzi, with the hot water bubbling and the boat’s lights reflected in the starless sky, they made me ride one guy while another sat on the edge and forced me to suck him. The water got everywhere, mixing with the cum already running down my thighs. Lorena sucked my tits from the side, and I felt her fingers opening my ass so a third guy could shove his cock in there too, double penetration in the water, with my mouth still occupied. Three cocks at once, and I was crying from pure pleasure, unable to moan because of the one in my throat.

At one point I lost count of how many hands were on me. Three at a time, then two, then another round. They came all over me, marked my face, tits, hair, back, ass. One guy pried my mouth open with two fingers to spit his own load into it, and I swallowed without hesitation, looking him in the eyes. They left me trembling against the fogged-up glass of the lounge, with my legs open and my holes empty for the first time in hours. I shouted whatever they wanted to hear and, I have to admit, at some point I stopped acting completely. I came twice without anyone touching my cock, squeezing my ass around the cocks still fucking me.

—Fill me up! Put it all in! Break my ass, come on! —I begged, and I wasn’t lying.

Rodrigo, the groom, saved himself for the end. He took me at the bow, late into the night, under the first stars appearing above the black water. He made me lean over the metal railing, bent at the waist, and opened my ass cheeks with his thumbs before spitting on me. He shoved it in all at once, balls deep, and held me by the hips with both hands while the yacht cut through the waves. The sound of our bodies crashing together competed with the engine, a thick obscene slap of skin against skin, wet with sweat and other people’s cum.

—What an ass you’ve got, whore —he said through his teeth—. No wonder you charge what you charge.

He pulled out and made me turn around. I knelt in front of him on the deck and sucked his whole cock, tasting what it had brought out of my own ass, looking up from below with my mouth open and tongue out. Then he lifted me again, sat me on top of him astride, and made me ride him while looking out at the sea, his hands on my tits, biting my neck.

—Rodrigo… you’re gonna split me in half —I panted, half serious, half in character, bouncing on his cock with my legs already weak.

He came with a hoarse grunt, his whole body tightening against mine, emptying into the depths of my ass in hot spurts I could feel one by one. I let myself go one last time that night, coming over his chest with my cock squeezed between us, trembling, exhausted, my whole body begging to sleep. I stayed sitting on him for a long while, feeling his cock soften inside me and the cum beginning to leak out.

***

On the third day we anchored in the bay. The sun was beating down on the still water, and the coast could be seen in the distance like a white strip of hotels and dunes. Most of the guys were drunk and satisfied, sprawled across the decks like happy shipwreck survivors. Lorena and I went down to the private beach in the tender to get some air. My body was wrecked, marked, smelling of salt, sex, and stale perfume. My legs were heavy and my ears still rang with the shouting from the last few nights. My ass burned and I felt my cunt and hole still open, my thighs sticky inside. I needed the silence of the sea and nothing else.

And then I saw him.

He was alone, sitting in a deck chair, staring at the horizon with a glass he wasn’t even touching. His name was Tomás. Around forty, dark-haired, tall, wearing a light linen suit the trip hadn’t wrinkled. He was the groom’s friend, but he hadn’t taken part in any of what had happened over the last few nights. I had noticed him, though I hadn’t given it any importance.

He looked at me as I walked by, and smiled in a way I didn’t recognize. It wasn’t hunger. It was curiosity. There was desire, of course, but also something else, something I wasn’t used to receiving.

He stood up and came closer.

—Bianca, right? —his voice was deep and calm—. I saw you these last few days. You’re stunning.

I blushed. I, who hadn’t blushed in months, felt the heat rise into my face like a teenager.

—Thank you —I answered, still hoarse.

—Will you walk with me? —he asked, nodding toward the shore—. Just walking.

Just walking. It had been so long since anyone had offered me something that wouldn’t end up in a bed.

We walked along the wet sand, barefoot, with the water licking our ankles. He carried his shoes in his hand and had loosened his tie, and he walked unhurriedly, as if we had all afternoon ahead of us. And we talked. Really talked. He told me he owned a chain of hotels, that he traveled almost all year, that he was tired of waking up in cities whose names he forgot before noon. He didn’t ask me for rates or schedules. He didn’t treat me like something rented by the night. He asked me how I’d ended up here, and he waited for the answer as if it truly mattered.

—Doesn’t it bore you? —I asked—. Hotels, planes, same old cities.

—I’m bored of being alone everywhere —he replied, and for an instant he stopped looking at the sea and looked at me—. It’s been a long time since I felt curious about someone. You make me curious.

I didn’t know what to say. In my world everything had a price and everything had a script, and suddenly there was a man who didn’t want to buy anything. I walked in silence for a while, feeling the warm sand between my toes, letting that strange feeling soften me.

And I told him. From the borrowed apartment in Almagro to becoming the most expensive escort on the sites. No embellishment and no shame. He listened with his eyes on mine, without the grimace of people who listen only to judge later.

—You’re not ashamed of anything you’re telling me —he said, and it wasn’t a reproach—. I like that.

—I learned not to be ashamed —I answered—. It’s the only thing that’s really mine.

***

That same night, while the others kept partying on the yacht, Tomás invited me to his suite at the most exclusive hotel on the coast. I said yes, and for the first time in a long while I didn’t calculate what my yes was worth.

It wasn’t what I expected. It wasn’t savage. It was something I had almost forgotten existed.

He undressed me slowly, piece by piece, as if time weren’t a resource you get charged for. He kissed every mark the others had left on my body, one by one, without disgust and without dirty fascination, like someone repairing something that mattered. He traced my collarbones with his lips until a sigh escaped me that I hadn’t planned. He went down over my sternum, lingered on each tit, sucking my nipples with a patience I didn’t know, tugging them with his lips until they were hard and sensitive.

—There… —I murmured—. Like that.

He laid me on the huge bed and opened my legs carefully. He looked at my hard cock pressed against my belly and smiled before bending down. He took it in one hand, gently, and started sucking me slowly, wrapping it with his tongue, going up and down without hurry, as if he genuinely liked having it in his mouth. No one sucked my cock for me, ever. Clients came for me to suck theirs. And this guy was sucking mine while looking me in the eyes, attentive to every shiver.

—God… —I moaned, clutching the sheets—. Nobody ever…

—Shh —he cut me off, and took it back all the way in.

Then he went lower, with a slow, patient tongue, with no rush to get anywhere. He licked my balls, spread my legs wider, and licked my ass with the tip of his tongue, soft circles that made my whole back arch off the bed. I trembled, shocked by how different it felt for someone to do it for me and not for himself.

—You taste so good —he said against my skin, almost to himself.

When he finally came back up and positioned himself between my legs, he put the tip against my entrance and waited. He was hard, thick, resting there without pushing, looking me in the eyes. When he finally entered, he did it slowly, centimeter by centimeter, attentive to every expression on my face. He wasn’t trying to finish fast or prove anything. He was trying to be there, with me, and that disarmed me more than any pounding ever could.

—Slowly… like that… —I asked, and my voice came out more feminine and more mine than at any point during the whole party.

He moved, brushing that exact spot that made me lose control, without rushing, feeling how my body opened around his cock. Each thrust was long, all the way in, and then he stayed inside, barely moving his hips, making me feel every inch. He kissed my mouth while he fucked me, tongue inside, and I wrapped my legs around his waist to keep him even closer. The sweat from both of us mixed, and the smell was no longer lounge sex but something intimate, warm, something I didn’t know how to name.

—You’re beautiful —he whispered in my ear as he picked up the pace just a little—. And I don’t mean the body.

He pulled out for a second, turned me over with tenderness, and settled me on my side, pressing against my back. He entered me again like that, spooning me, one hand grabbing a tit and the other sliding down to my cock to jerk me in time with his thrusts. No one ever touched my cock while they were fucking me. No one ever made sure I got off too. My eyes filled with tears before I even noticed.

—Come with me —he asked in my ear, moving slowly inside me, closing his fist around my cock—. Come when I come.

I came looking at him over my shoulder, trembling all over, with a muffled moan that had nothing acted about it, spilling between his fingers onto the white sheets. He came after, burying himself in me one last time, emptying inside me with a long groan, saying my name softly as if it were a secret he was only just learning. He stayed inside me a long while, holding me from behind, kissing the nape of my neck.

Afterward we stayed wrapped around each other in silence, listening to the sea through the open window. He stroked my hair for a long while. And then he said something no one had ever said to me.

—I want to know you —he murmured—. Not just this. I want you to come with me to Europe next month. No clients, no parties. Just you and me.

I looked for the catch, the hidden trap, the bill that always came sooner or later. I didn’t find one. It was just him, waiting for an answer as if it really mattered.

For the first time in years, I felt no guilt and no shame. I felt fear, which is what you feel when something matters.

—I want to try —I answered.

Tomás smiled and kissed me, slowly, without haste, the way he had done everything that night.

The yacht would return to port without me. The city’s most expensive escort was stepping out of the game at the best streak of her career, and for once I didn’t care about the money I was leaving behind. Bianca’s life, the woman’s life, was only just beginning.