1 comments/ 43369 views/ 25 favorites Am I A Slut? By: IsobellaJ I've been out for several hours already with my friends, drinking cocktails and enjoying the early evening sun. We decide to head to one of our favourite spots which has a beautiful roof terrace and great views. As soon as the lift doors open, I notice you stood talking to your friends. You're talking and laughing, and I wish it were me stood with you. I must have looked at you for a little too long because you're looking back at me now. I head towards the bar, but I can feel you looking me up and down. I'm wearing a black silk dress with bare legs and heels. I sit on a bar stool and order a mojito from the bar man. It looks as though you're on a stag do, and more of your friends keep arriving. I can't help but wonder if you have a hotel room here, and shake the thought from my mind almost immediately. I don't do things like that. An hour passes and I'm back at the bar ordering drinks again. This time you head over and you're stood next to me. I'm biting my lip and trying desperately not to stare at you. My cheeks feel flushed and I can't stop thinking about your hands on me. You introduce yourself to me, and I know from that minute that I need to have you. We spend the next hour talking, and both sets of friends have moved on to the next place, leaving us behind. Alone together. We decide that we should really head off to meet them, and I'm disappointed that nothing more has happened between us. We step into the lift and you push the button for the ground floor. As you do, your arm brushes past mine and I almost gasp. It felt electric. I look up at you and I can tell you felt it too. Your eyes look at me so hungrily and I'm desperate for you to touch me again. You reach behind me and push the button for the 6th floor. As the lift doors open you get out and order me to follow you. I look a little confused, but right now I think I would do anything you asked of me. We walk down the corridor and you put a key card into one of the doors. It becomes clear to me that you are staying here, and I'm about to step into your hotel room. Before I have the chance to think about it, the door closes behind me and I'm in. You pour me a drink and sit on the bed. I look out of the window at the spectacular view, commenting that it's beautiful. You agree, but I don't think you were talking about the view. I turn round and your eyes are on me. You order me to take my dress off. I open my mouth, perhaps to protest, and you just repeat the order. I slide the dress off and stand infront of you in my underwear and shoes. You motion with your finger for me to spin round and I do, feeling more naked than I ever have. You stand up and walk over to me. You still haven't touched me and my skin feels like it's on fire. I can tell I'm getting wet, and the need inside me is so intense. You tell me to take of the bra and get on my knees. I obey, and reveal my hard nipples, hoping you will touch them. I get on my knees infront of you as you start to unbuckle your belt, I can see that your cock is hard already. You have your cock in your hand now, stroking backwards and forwards. My lips are parted slightly, expectantly. You put your hand on the back of my head and tell me firmly that you are going to fuck my mouth. I nod mutely, and open my mouth, ready. Your cock slides all the way into my mouth hitting the back of my throat, making me gag. You hold it there and slowly pull out, saliva dripping down my chin as you do. You repeat the process several times, getting faster. My eyes are watering and I can tell my perfect makeup has started to run. You stop all of a sudden and tell me to get on the bed on my knees. You tease me about the wet patch on my knickers and call me a slut for enjoying having my mouth fucked. You ask me if I want you to touch me. I nod in response. You tell me to slide my knickers down and show you my pussy. I hesitate and I hear the noise of your hand slapping my ass before I feel it. You repeat the demand, and I quickly obey. I hear you taking your jeans off and I can feel the heat of you behind me. Your hand touches my ass, stroking where you slapped. Your fingers move towards my pussy. As you stroke down my pussy lips I push myself backwards hungrily and wanting more. You have two fingers inside me now, pumping in and out. You ask me if I like that, and I manage to moan out a yes. You ask if I want more and I respond with "mmmm". The third finger goes in and I'm starting to feel full. Quickly though your fingers stop and slide out of me. I gasp with surprise as I feel one of your wet fingers on my ass hole. I've never had anyone touch me there, and I'm not sure I want you to. I lean forward to get away from the pressure and you slap my ass, harder this time. You tell me to be still. Your finger is inside me now. Inside my ass. I feel slightly alarmed, and very dirty. I try to tell you I'm not sure and you respond by telling me you're going to fuck my ass, and I can either relax and try to enjoy it or fight you. Either way, you tell me you will enjoy it whether I fight or not. I'm speechless and I don't know what to say. Your finger starts moving in and out now, and it's the strangest sensation I've ever felt. It's so very tight and I can't imagine how on earth you will force your cock into me. Reading my mind, you laugh grimly and tell me it will fit, but you're going to get it good and wet first. Your finger still in my ass, you press your cock at the entrance to my pussy. Surprised at myself I start to push back and I feel a second finger at my ass hole. You tell me to keep pushing back, and that I'm going to fuck your fingers. Your cock in my pussy and two fingers in my ass is almost too much. I feel so full. I thrust backwards and forwards several times, alarmed at the wet noises coming from my pussy. I must be dripping wet. By now you have a third finger in my ass, and I'm used to the feeling. The fucking stops and you stand, and tell me to lay flat on my stomach. You slide my knickers all the way down and off, telling me they have a huge wet patch on. You place them next to my face and I can smell my pussy on them. You climb on the bed and kneel on top of me. I feel your cock between my ass cheeks and don't know whether to make a run for it or beg you to fuck me immediately. You're pushing the tip of your cock into my ass now, and the intense feeling is almost unbearable. You start to slide in, finding it easy because you were fucking my wet pussy moments before. There's nowhere for me to go now, I'm under you and completely powerless. You tell me that you're half way in and I wonder how I can take any more as tears fill my eyes. I feel your balls press against me and I know you're in now. I try to lay so still underneath you, every movement causing intense feelings of pleasure and pain. You tell me to relax and I really try. You slide out a little way, and push back in. I can feel your breath on my neck now as you put your weight on top of me. I'm surprised at myself as my pussy, or my ass, or my clit, or all three throb. And I know you felt it too, as you make a low sound resembling a growl. You thrust again, hard this time. And I push back. I need this. We find our pace, and I start to enjoy the way you feel inside me. I can feel an orgasm building. Your cock feels so hard, and with each thrust your balls make a wet slapping noise on my pussy. Causing more sensations to rip through me. I beg you to fuck harder, and faster. And you reach out and grab my hair, pulling it and calling me a slut. You shout at me to tell you what I am. Each word emphasised by a thrust. Tell. Me. What. You. Are. I'm finding it so degrading, you're fucking my ass and telling me I'm a slut. But it feels good. So good. Maybe you're right. Maybe I am a slut. The words tumble from my mouth and you tell me to say it louder. I shout it and I can feel myself start to shake underneath you. I'm screaming and pushing back onto you. My clit is throbbing and I'm screaming that I'm going to cum. I explode underneath you and scream out. My pussy is throbbing and I'm cumming with your cock in my ass. It must be too much for you because you start cumming too, filling my ass with your cum. You fall on top of me, your cock still in my ass and my pussy still on fire. I'm moaning and writhing. You pull out of me slowly. A whole new sensation. I lay still and I can feel your cum start to drip out of me. I want you again already. Am I a Slut? Well, am I? I really enjoy casual sex with a variety of men, usually one at a time but I have gotten it on with two at once and, on one occasion, with three guys who wanted me to take on all of them at the same time. I'm pretty sure I could have done what they wanted but I thought it would probably be more pain than pleasure so I declined. Instead, they took turns with me and I reveled in every minute of fucking each and every one of those guys. I don't know what the male equivalent of that would be but, whatever it is, a man who accomplished any of that with two or three different women, one right after the other, would be known among his peers as some kind of super stud. I remember late one night I was watching an old rerun of "Cheers." The men in the bar were sitting around bemoaning the lack of heroes in their lives when Sam Malone walked through the doorway with four beautiful and sexy women. "Hey you guys," he announced. "These are my dates for tonight." The barflies all cheered and chanted his name. Those losers envied and idolized Sam in that episode and every other night, as I recall. If that had been Rebecca Howe with four handsome dudes and she had identified all of them as her dates that night, she would have been called a slut and a whore and a bitch and whatever other insulting name the guys in the bar could think of. And, judging from what I have heard, most other men would call her the same kind of names. I realize this was just a sitcom, not the real world but reactions like the one I described involving Sam and the hypothetical one with Rebecca would be the same in the real world: he's a superstud and she's a slut. Why should that be? It's not right and it's not fair. Why should a man who is successfully promiscuous be almost revered by his fellows while a woman who is his opposite number be slut-shamed? Those are not just rhetorical questions. I think I know the answer. We've all heard of "penis envy," a junk psychology expression I consider to be bogus. Supposedly, it describes those women who compete with men in sports or education or employment or any other field of primarily masculine endeavor as actually wishing they were men. This is obviously nonsense but there are some people, mostly men, who actually give credence to the notion instead of considering such associations to be nothing more than normal competition or even cooperation. In fact, I believe in the opposite - that, in matters sexual, men suffer from what I call "pussy envy." Any woman who so desires can easily do what men can only do in their wildest and most erotic fantasies. A few years ago, I read of a female porno star who had fucked five hundred or so men in a row. No man who ever existed could have done that except in his imagination and men are envious of women who can. It doesn't even have to be 500 guys. Any Hell's Angel mama can pull a train of twenty bikers but none of those men would be able to fuck that many women without taking several rest breaks of a at least a day each. And, it's not only quantity; it's quality as well. The Sam Malones of this world feel pretty good about themselves and are envied because they can score with a good percentage of the chicks they hit on. Big, Fat, Hairy Deal. The Rebecca Howes of this world would be able to score with just about any dude they want, which is why they can afford to be picky. If a woman has thousands of guys all wanting to get into her pants, she can choose the best and disregard the rest. Men who try to be players are well aware of this because they can easily see the big difference in success rates between themselves and their female opposite numbers and it drives them to gnash their teeth in frustration. It leads them to do something else too, and that is usually described as "slut-shaming." Even though women don't usually think of themselves as being in a competition to see who can fuck the most people, many male players do. They are envious of people whose success rate is greater than theirs so they lash out at some of those people. They can't say anything negative to the Sam Malones because guys like them would just laugh it off. Therefore, they must insult women to make up for their own inadequacies. Women who enjoy full and satisfying sex lives outside of marriage are reviled by envious men and the most common insult is "slut." Men who aren't getting much deride the women who are getting enough as sluts, among other epithets. That being the case, those women who getting all they want should revel in their sluttiness. So, to get back to the question I asked earlier, "Am I a slut?" Well, yes, I am, and proud of it. I expect to continue being a slut for as long as I can which, hopefully, will be many years.