How do you know when you’re a slut?

When you realize you have an insatiable curiosity to see random straight guys being your bitch.  It’s a fairly broad curiosity.  Having done Cassandra for close to two years now, I’ve seen the full spectrum of the male species when they are at their most naked and vulnerable.  You can point out any random guy walking down the street and I can fashion an educated guess – based upon personal experience — what they’ll look like on their knees, the noises they’ll make when they’re bent over, their idiosyncratic quirks when they cum.  Sluttiness requires that kind of curiosity. 

I suppose I am a lot more curious about straight guys than gay guys.  The average middle-aged, middle-management, middle-class and, let’s face it, the completely mediocre, period, fascinates me a lot more than his equally mediocre gay counterpart.  There’s something about the unattainable – what I never expected possible – that makes it thrilling.  Who would have guessed in a million years that the buzzed cut former Marine who now works at San Quentin Prison loves sucking tranny cock and having a cock up his ass?  I know, I know: I’m not exactly shooting for the skies with what I find sexually fascinating. 

A slut, indeed.

Another way of looking at it is that I’m a voyeur.  I especially enjoy newbies getting fucked for the first time.  The amount of energy they give is just incredible — they may have had “sex” before but until they get their cherries popped they’re still virgins.  Sure, a lot of them lie and always insist it’s their first time (interesting, isn’t it, how straight guys love clinging on to that virgin fantasy) but Cassandra knows when she’s tapped a virgin booty.  The best combo:  late twenties, nice body, cute (but not hot enough to be vain), middle class background (good manners are so important), and good hygiene.  The cherry on top is when I get a good talker who’s narrating the screenplay, frame by frame.  Straight guys who love to TALK through sex are the best.  They tell you exactly what they’re seeing, what’s going through their head.  Sometimes their free association with words while getting pounded are so good — vivid and imaginative — I just want to whip out a notepad, jot it down, and pass the description as my own.

Simple, honest declarations from the heart work the best.

Oh my god, they mutter to themselves, completely oblivious that I’m watching their every shiver; their every grunt and shallow, quick breath; the pleasurable pain they register on their faces.  Oh my god, I have a cock up my ass!

I was ruminating all of this the other day when I fucked a new customer doggy style.  This is why I like doggy style: I can let my mind wander and ponder over the deep thoughts that define my existence.  Like what it means to be a slut.  I was thinking about the power play involved.  I was just a tad stoned and it dawned upon me that a lot of the guys I fuck are the types who were assholes to me in high school.  So as my cock was going in and out of his ass I thought about taping a public service announcement: Don’t be an asshole to the effeminate kid in high school because, someday, you just may have to pay him to fuck your asshole. 

Deep, huh?

So I was fucking this guy.  I can’t even describe him accurately he was so average.  Maybe late thirties, early forties (he may even be early thirties you can never tell with white people especially when they’re very vanilla).  I remember thinking to myself as I pushed his head down and made him arch his back so his booty came right up to my shecock that I wasn’t excited as I should be.  When I first started as Cassandra this was the type of vanilla boring straight guy that I LOVED fucking.  They’re so boring looking in real life but when you fuck them up the ass they transform into this different person – a complete whore bitch – and they do the whole booty shaking with their butts while you’re inside.  National Geographic should really do an anthropologic feature: straight guys who want to shake it shake it shake it shake it like a salt shaker.

Nevertheless, after two years the thrill of the novelty is mostly gone.  All I’m left with is the realization that I’m fucking a very mediocre guy.  That was when I saw the glint off his wedding band.  The mere sight must have sent me into fantasy land because I started picturing him with a wife and two kids living in the suburbs.  Not Walnut Creek or Hillsborough or any place real expensive.  Again, he just screams average.  Maybe Concord.

But something about knowing that I’m fucking a married straight guy up the ass – this seemingly bland, average, all too average – boring even – straight guy with a wife and two kids, got me excited again.  I don’t know.  Maybe I have issues.  It’s like I’m being let in on this secret, and it’s probably the biggest secret of his boring mundane middle-class life.  This is something he can’t ever share with anyone.  Not his wife.  Not his kids.  Not his friends.  Just me.

It got me real excited again.  I started pounding him.  HARD.  I was slamming into his butt cheeks and they were sticking to my pelvis making these lube-ridden smack smack sounds when he said hey, can we try a different position?

I said sure. 

I pull out my cock and Out.  Comes.  A.  Clump.   Of.  TURD.  On my condom that landed on his right ass cheek!

And he was about to turn around and sit that ass onto my bed so I screamed Don’t Move!

DON’T MOVE!!!

I used to really, really enjoy fucking straight guys.  But these kind of experiences diminish my love for straight booty.  I can still picture that clumpy golf ball stuck on his lily white ass.  It is so not a pretty picture.  They should use the image for TV commercials to keep Tgirl Tops from becoming prostitutes.

It was a clump of dull-colored peanut butter.

With BIRDSEEDS mixed in!

In college I went on a camping trip where we looked for owl pellets.  A pellet is just a fancy term for saying poop.  We were looking for owl poop because you can tell about a lot about an owl through its excrements.  Apparently, some things don’t digest well – little mice nails and mice fur, for instance. 

Just when I think I can’t sink any lower I’ve now found myself becoming a shit detective.  Because, seriously, you can tell a lot about this guy through the clump that landed on his right cheek.

He’s an upwardly mobile,

Caucasian,

male,

STRAIGHT – because no gay bottom would ever consent to getting fucked without a proper “cleansing,”

who eats a lot of Whole Foods Grains!

Tags: sleazy