Want a woman to degrade me by calling me a lesbian in bed. Fuck me in the gayest of ways and make sure to talk about my âpussyâ a lot.
âWhat a good little lesbian you are.â
âI know what you really are. I know what you want.â
âGod what a wet pussy, fuck.â
Scissor me and hold my legs open. Grab the curve of my hip, my chest, my nipples.
âYour nipples are so sensitive. Do you need them sucked? Would it feel good for me to wrap my lips around your tits?â
Iâm so ashamed and want to ask you to stop, but every time I work up the nerve, you say something that completely crushes my resolve.
âTell me, what are you?â
I donât want to answer. Iâm a dude. I know that. Iâm a dude who likes women and just so happens to have a cunt. I like rubbing my cunt against womensâ pussiesâbut itâs not gay when itâs me.
But you need an answer. You canât get off without me admitting it to you. You wonât let yourself cum until Iâm praising our sapphic fucking sex and telling you I want to be girlfriends.
âCâmon, tell me. Whatâs your sexuality?â
You push a finger into me. âOh what wonderful straight sex weâre having.â You curl it inside of me, pushing, holding that spot until Iâm squirming.
âI get it, just pleaseââ
âPlease what? Fingerfuck you? Scissor you harder? Or do you want me to eat out your cunt?â
All these terms, they all shouldnât apply to me but they do. Theyâd all get me off. Theyâre the ways I can get off.
âIâm holding back. If you want me to really make you squirmâif you want to cumâtell me what kind of sex this is.â
âHot sex,â I joke, but you just grab two handfuls of my small breasts, stare at them and say, âYeah. Pretty damn hot.â
Iâm so fucking wet. I murmur something but you say âhuh? Say that again?â
âCan we change things up, I think Iâm done with scissoring.â The word sends a rush of blood through me.
You move, but you donât get off of me. No, you lower yourself down on your arms and knees until youâre at just the right angle. Your face comes close to my tits, your tongue darting out towards my nipples. Theyâre obviously hard, almost aching from how much I need you sucking on them.
But then you stop. You have an idea.
âHere, letâs switch.â
Iâm intrigued by the idea of being on topâmaybe getting some dignity backâand agree. I move on top of you, but immediately you just guide me up. Your hands hold me still with my boobs hanging down from my otherwise relatively solid build. I could never get those things to stop being so soft, even if they are small. But you donât seem to give a fuck about the size.
You pull me down so I fall closer to you, catching myself on my arms. Then you take my tits in both of your hands and hold them still as you lean forward and start sucking them.
Itâs an incredible sensation. You nibble, bite (both gentle and rough), lick, and suck. Nothing feels better than the sucking. I know a cis guy wouldnât get this much pleasure from nipple play alone. And I know what makes my body different. I know what my body is âsupposedâ to do. And so do you.
âSuch pretty, sexy buds.â Your mouth makes a âpopâ sound as you pull away.
âItâs a shame thereâs not a little more to your boobs. Wouldnât that feel so good? Didnât it feel good before, when you were openly gay? You let girls stare. You rubbed your breasts against another girlâs, I know it.â
You donât even hesitate to call my old self gay, despite referring to me having sex with women. It probably never crossed your mind that me and gay could mean anything other than dyke. And of course, there it is. You calling me a girl.
Shit. Iâm losing it. Iâm losing myself.
âYeah,â you encourage, and you run one hand down my torso, your touch light and teasing. I know you wonât continue unless I say more.
âI loved when our nipples brushedâŚso delicate,â I say, half-miserable but halfway there. âSo intimate and softâŚâ
âYes,â you continue to encourage me. Your handâs on my clit now. I mean dick.
âBeing a lesbian felt so goodâŚfuckâŚâ
âYes!â You say happily, almost like youâre proud of me, and you cup my cunt firmly before licking your fingers and messing with my clit.
âYes, sweetheart, and you miss that donât you?â
ââŚA little,â I whisper, beyond turned on and getting close to that place we both desperately need.
âWell,â you say, and suddenly youâre sitting up. Your left hand tugs at my clit, your right sliding slowly in and out of me. Then faster. And faster still.
âYou never changed. Do you see that yet? You may be a boy now but youâll always be a woman. You canât escape it. You canât change itâyou can only pretend. Youâll always know that deep down, youâre a womanâa lesbian, and you love it. You love having a cunt. You love making out with pussies. You love being a gay fucking dykeâand cumming on a mean domâs fingers.â
Those words send me over the edge. As Iâm cumming, you order me to say it. To tell you what I am.
âIâm a lesbian. God, Iâm a fucking lesbian.â The rest I want to put out into the world gets smothered by moans.
You pull out of me and start scissoring yourself aggressively against my wet, pulsing pussy. The orgasm is nothing like youâve had beforeâknowing you broke a âtransâ girl back into herself. And yeah, you call it that. You put the emphasis on the F of ftm. You only ever called me a âtrans girl,â which would have been funny if it was anyone but you. If it was out of ignorance and not intent. But you call me that cause thatâs what I am to youâa girl first, and trans second. Whatever I dress up as is not as important to you as the fact that I have breasts, a pussy, a uterus, and all the rest. You know my body better than I do, it seems. And how can I ever argue with thatâwhen nobody can make me cum like you do?