My life had turned strangely since I woke up one morning with the nickname 'CUMSLUT' tattooed across my forehead.
I've always been discreetly bisexual, but I recently had involved myself more in the gay dating scene across the city. One night, when I was clubbing with friends, we slowly got separated as we dropped by one venue after another. By the time, I met the mysterious man now known to me as Vance, I was quite drunk and very horny. I went home with the charismatic stranger, and I attempted fellatio on him. I failed miserably; I barely remember vomiting and passing out on him.
The next day, I was astonished to discover the inscription across the top of my face. Naturally self-conscious about showing a tattoo that would disgrace me, I wore a cap to hide it any time I might encounter someone. In spite of this precaution, several people had seen the word on my forehead. That's the second twist in my story: a vagrant, a pizza delivery guy, grocery story clerks, a tattooist with whom I consulted about the removal of my tattoo, and the police I discussed this strange assault with; there might be a few others—when these men saw the tattoo, it was like a spell came over them; it was as if they had to take my mouth or ass. They demanded and I acquiesced each time with a submission I had never felt before. It was as if I was entranced and seduced by the 'CUMSLUT' label; I began to suck cocks and give my ass to almost any man who looked at that tattoo. I did so with excitement and passion. It was as if writing the word on me had made it so.
Today alone, I had been taken by both a consulting tattooist and two cops at the police station before five o'clock.
And I had ordered a pizza for seven, all according to the plans of the nameless pizza delivery guy who dominated me one night while he was dropping off my meal. After that encounter, he demanded my phone number so he could text me instructions.
Since then, in less than a week, he had broken in my ass ten times or so, arriving at my door often at the beginning of his delivery shift and sometimes showing up after; he had even occasionally shown up during his off-hours. Even after having sex with him, I still didn't know his name.
Now that I was home, I took a long shower and did a thorough job of cleaning out my ass. I kept my head shaved, and I showed it the razor as the water streamed over me. I washed down the rest of my body and got out of the shower; since it was cool, I waited in my housecoat.
The seven-p.m. delivery arrived on time with a knock at my apartment door. As I had nothing covering my tattoo, I went to the door and looked out the peephole. It was him, of course. I threw aside my housecoat; it landed on a living room chair and threw open the door fully in the nude as Pizza Guy's text message had demanded.
There stood my most regular lover. He was youthful, perhaps twenty-five and reddish-haired with a matching ruddy complexion. He had a double-chin and wore a band of extra flesh around his mid-section. His ass was strangely petite for so large a man. His shoulders were wide and rounded. He was uniformed as a team member of the local pizzeria.
"I've only got ten minutes," he said, pushing himself through the doorway. He set the pizza down on my coffee table. I closed the door on the apartment hallway. I was disappointed that the visit would be so short, but I was used to these trysts at the start of his shift being brief.
I paid for the pizza; I had the money waiting on a table near the door. He kept the change for a tip. He opened the buckle of his pants and pulled his pants and underwear down to his knees before taking a seat, bare-ass on my couch. He spread his legs wide to give me room to approach.
Then he said, "Get on my cock."
I needed little urging. I fell to my knees in front of him and popped his instant boner in my mouth. It wasn't a large cock, but serviceable at about five inches. I twisted my tongue around his uncut penis, inspiring spirals of sensation in my lover. I soon inhaled more of his cock, an inch, two, three, four... I was careful to keep my teeth safely behind my lips as I began to suck him. I kept my tongue against the sensitive underside of his organ as my lips and cheeks massaged the rest of him. I jerked back and forth, my head bouncing over his cock. I was doing something right; I could hear him gasping and I savoured the familiar salty tang of his pre-cum in my mouth.
After five minutes or so, he checked his phone for the time. I was afraid he was going to use the phone to record me on video, but he never did. I don't know if he considered himself straight or gay, whether he was a closeted homosexual or a heterosexual opportunist. But God, he could fuck.
And that was exactly what he wanted to do next.
I reluctantly backed off of his delicious cock. He rose off the couch and let me stand back. I picked up the tube of lubricant I had sitting ready on a table beside the couch, squeezed it and applied the lube first to his erection and then to my ass. I had known to keep the K-Y in the living room as that's where all our encounters took place. He was not interested in going into the bedroom, for some reason. The first time he fucked me, I came against the fabric of the couch and the stain was a bitch to get out. Now, I kept an old blanket folded up on the back of the couch for his visits, and I draped it over the couch. Then, I assumed the position he wanted me in, with me on all fours.
He pressed his wood against my asshole for a moment, as if giving me time to prepare; then, he slowly and inexorably pushed his cock in as far as it would go. With the loosening up I'd had lately, he entered me easily. By the time the hairs on his balls were tickling my ass cheeks, he was in me up to the hilt. I let out a groan and so did Pizza Man. I think it was pure pleasure for both of us.
"Fuck me, Pizza Man," I demanded.
Now that he was inside me, he began to pump my ass vigorously. He was on the clock, and if he was longer than ten minutes, he'd be missed at work. With each flex of his hips against my buttocks, he gathered speed. He probed my innards relentlessly in search of his release. Impaled on his cock, I helped him toward his orgasm by thrusting back with all my strength against him, aiding his deep penetration. I was young and naturally tight, but I began to contract my asshole even more tightly. This increased his contact and stimulation, and mine too.
"That's right, you dirty skank; squeeze me with your ass."
After about four to five minutes, Pizza Man let out a deep breath and emptied his balls into my intestines. I felt his spasms inside me as I continued to contract my ass-ring tight around his member. When he pulled out, there was a plop and some of his thin, watery semen ran down the inside of my leg.
He reached down and picked up a corner of the blanket I was lying on and wiped his wet cock on it. Then he zipped up and buttoned his pants and turned toward the door.
I cried out to him.
