He showed up like he always did — no knocking, just stepping inside like he belonged there. I was already half-hard, shorts tenting. The porn on the TV wasn’t even necessary at that point, but it hummed in the background while I got up and met him in the living room.

He didn’t bother with small talk. He never did. That was part of why I liked meeting him — he knew why we were here. He stood in front of me, hands already at his fly, undoing his belt and zipper. When his cock came out, it was a nice size, half-hard but growing as he stroked it once, twice.

I dropped to my knees on instinct, the carpet rough under my knees as I leaned in. The first thing I always did was lick him from the base up, dragging my tongue along the thick vein underneath. He let out a soft grunt, his hips twitching forward just a little. By the time I wrapped my lips around the head, he was swelling in my mouth, filling out fast.

I worked him slowly at first, letting my spit coat him, my tongue swirling under the ridge. His taste was familiar — warm skin, a hint of salt, that musk that stuck to the back of my throat. I breathed through my nose and took more, bobbing my head, working his growing cock.

He always made these low sounds when I hit the right spot, a hand resting on the back of my head. That day, though, I was ravenous. I swallowed as much of him as I could. I gagged once when the head brushed my throat, but instead of pulling back, I stayed there, feeling him pulse against my tongue.

“Fuck…” he muttered, his voice rough, his hips starting to move on their own. Little thrusts at first, then longer strokes as he pushed deeper into my mouth. My lips stretched tight around him, moving back and forth, taking him in and out. I loved the way he used me, the way I could feel every vein, every twitch of his cock as he fucked my face.

I was so horny that day. Normally, this was where it ended — he’d cum, I’d swallow, and that was it. But that day, even with my throat stuffed full of him, all I could think about was how much I wanted more.

When I pulled off his cock, spit strung from my lips to his tip. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and looked up at him.

“You ever thought about fucking a guy?” I asked, my voice rough from his cock in my throat.

He blinked, like he wasn’t sure he’d heard me right. “No… not really,” he said, glancing down at me — my lips wet, his cock hard in my hand. “But… I could try.”

That was all I needed. My heart hammered in my chest as I grabbed a towel from the bathroom, spreading it out in the middle of the living room. The porn was still going, soft moans filling the air like background music.

I dug into the drawer and came back with the Vaseline. My hands trembled as I opened it, scooping out a thick glob. It was cold as hell when I smeared it between my cheeks, fingers sliding lower, circling my tight hole. I had played with myself before, fingers, toys, but never gone this far, not with someone actually going to fuck me.

He just stood there, cock in hand, staring as I worked the lube into myself and coated his hard cock. My face burned, but I couldn’t stop — I wanted this too bad. I got down on my hands and knees on the towel, ass in the air, looking back at him.

His breath caught when he saw me like that. “You’re sure?” he asked, voice a little shaky.

“Yeah,” I said, barely more than a whisper. “Just… go slow.”

He knelt behind me, his knees brushing mine. His hands touched my hips first, warm and hesitant. I felt the blunt head of his cock nudge against my lubed-up asshole, and my stomach flipped.

The first push was just pressure — firm, steady, not breaking through yet. I slowly opened up. Then, with a little more of a push, the head popped inside.

I gasped, knuckles white on the towel. It wasn’t pain, not exactly — It was a pleasurable pain that made my whole body electrify.

“You okay?” he asked, frozen halfway in.

“Yeah,” I breathed out. “Keep going.”

He eased forward slowly, sinking deeper, my hole clenched around him, my body taking his cock inside. I moaned without meaning to, head tilted back.

By the time his hips were flush against my ass, I felt completely full, stuffed in a way I’d never experienced, but always wanted to. 

He started slow, his hands gripping my hips, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in. Each stroke dragged along every nerve inside me, my body thrilled with every deep push.

“Fuck…,” he groaned, his voice rough, hips slapping softly against my ass.

I took a handful of the towel and moaned, my asshole wrapped around him as he found a rhythm fucking me. The sound of his cock sliding in and out of me mixed with the wet noises from the porn on TV, making everything feel filthier, hotter.

I couldn't believe it! I was finally getting fucked in the ass. Why did I wait so long?

He grew bolder with every thrust. The slow strokes turned heavier, deeper. His balls slapped against me now, his hips snapping forward harder, the weight of his body rocking me onto my elbows.

“Ohhh, fuck,” I gasped, my own cock and balls swinging between my legs, dripping pre-cum onto the towel. I didn’t even need to touch myself; every drag of his cock inside me made me want more, more.

His hands slid up from my hips to my lower back, then my shoulders, gripping me and pulling me back onto his cock. Each thrust hit deeper, his pelvis grinding against my ass as he buried himself balls deep. I could feel his breath on my neck now, his grunts low and guttural as he pounded into me.

“Jesus… this feels so good,” he muttered through clenched teeth.

I moaned, barely able to speak. My whole body was hot, my brain spinning. Every push stretched me wider, his cock hitting spots inside me I didn’t even know existed. My knees slid on the towel, but his grip held me steady, his body using mine like he’d fucked his wife for years.

The wet slap of skin on skin filled the room now, louder than the porn, louder than my moans. He fucked me like a man possessed — not brutal, but strong, deliberate, deep. Every time he bottomed out, my hole clung to him, greedy for more.

He bent forward, his chest against my back, his lips by my ear. “You feel so good,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “I can’t stop…”

My breath hitched, my body trembling as he drilled me harder. His thighs slapped against mine, the rhythm relentless, my ass open and stretched wide around him. The sounds coming out of me weren’t words anymore — just desperate, guttural noises as I took everything he gave me.

He suddenly slowed, his thrusts shorter, hips grinding against my ass as he groaned. I could feel his cock swelling, and his head deep inside me.

Leaning forward, “Where… where do you want me to cum?” he panted, his voice strained as his fingers dug into my shoulders.

I didn’t even think. “Inside me,” I said, I needed him to cum inside of me.

He started to fuck me again until he couldn't hold off any longer. With a low, guttural moan, he slammed his hips forward, burying himself all the way inside. His grip tightened, pulling me hard against him as his cock pumped hot, thick ropes of cum deep into me.

I gasped as a warm wave started to roll through my body as he flooded my guts. Each spurt sent a warm wave rolling through me — down my legs, curling my toes, racing up my spine until my head felt light and dizzy. I’d never felt anything like it.

“Fuuuck…” he groaned, holding himself there, pulsing, filling me until I swore I could feel it inside.

When he finished, he stayed buried in me, his sweaty chest against my back, both of us breathing hard. My ass ached in a way that felt incredible — stretched, used, marked by him. My cock was leaking pre-cum onto the towel beneath me, my thighs shaking from how hard he’d fucked me.

Eventually, he pulled out slowly, and I felt his cock fall out of me. I stayed on my knees, dazed, catching my breath, the towel under me sticky and damp.

He went to the bathroom to clean up while I wiped myself down, still feeling his cock inside me even though he was gone. When he came back, we just looked at each other for a second, both of us knowing something had shifted.

“That was…” he said, voice soft but rough. He gave me a crooked smile. “That was really great. I never thought it would be that fun."

I nodded, my lips curling into a grin. “Yeah… it was.”

From that day on, it didn’t stop at just blowjobs once or twice a week. He started coming by three, sometimes four times. Sometimes just a blowjob, while other times, he would fuck me, leaving his load in my ass. 

As that warm wave rolled through me — from my toes to my head — something inside me snapped loose. For so long, even while sucking cock, I’d carried this wall in my mind, this whisper telling me it was wrong to let another man fuck me. But as his cum pulsed inside me, my body trembling from the fullness and heat, that wall crumbled. There was no shame, no fear left. Just raw, hungry need and the shocking realization that this wasn’t just something I could do — it was something I wanted. From that moment on, nothing would stop me from getting fucked again.  

From this point on, I proudly became a slut.