CD Rebeca Vegas Play Pt. 01

CD Rebeca Vegas Play Part 1

Author's note. These stories are about my time in Las Vegas between age about 19 1/2 to 26. I frequently discuss these times with people because they were almost as formative for me as my first experiences and define me in many ways. Enjoy and comment. I have made these stories available other places, but now they are home at Literotica where my interest in writing the details about my sexual adventures began. So if they seem familiar, well, its possible they are. The stories here are the most accurate, honest, and complete version over past works.

Thank you and please enjoy me, Rebeca

October, 2021.

Introduction. I am Rebeca. I life-long extremely sexual CD that has been zealously seeking hot sex ever since I discovered my desires and inclinations. When I place sensual "female" clothing on my body, paint my face, pull on my high heels, dawn my long hair, and complete the dressing process by putting on lipstick, I always look at myself in the mirror and say the same thing. I look directly at me as a sexual being and say, "It is great to be back!" Each time I do that I bring out something so different in myself. Its impossible to fully explain, but I see it as a distinct break away similar to a vacation from the usual version of me. It is not a dysphoria or a transsexual thing, though I am passable. It is time away from the male pansexual version of me. I love to play with everyone who has a sexual attraction to me as a guy or as a "gurl." Rebeca is the feminine version of the pansexual me. Every time I dress it is a highly sexual experience regardless of it lasting hours, overnight, or even days, or a few times weeks. Similar to sexual needs of submissives who are in charge all day but must be disciplined to achieve pleasure, I enjoy a similar break in my life. Though I am not a true submissive, I find that my sexual enjoyment is highest when I am dressed scandalously and acting out on my base fantasy to "Be the whore I always want to meet." So, I welcome you and sincerely hope you enjoy my tales and comment or contact me if you feel moved to.

1.

I think we all have a deviant side that society publicly frowns upon, but secretly admires those of us who let that side out to play. Some of us repress the side and deny it, some don't. Repressing mine didn't work for me, so I went the other direction. Then I embraced my societal deviance and learned how to coexist with that side of my being. I learned to step over lines with care while never denying myself, and rarely denying others.

On my knees, like a perfect whore, I felt his semen start to shoot in my mouth. My first Las Vegas Sugar Daddy moaned in orgasm as his rigid cock punched into my throat, and then, past the point of no return he withdrew slightly and his cock held with the head on the rear of my tongue. This is where the gag reflex occasionally occurred, but not this time. I had sucked off too much cock already that day and night and the reflex was too weak to work. I felt my sugar daddy in that familiar rigid pause before he spurted into my wanton mouth. I tasted his cock and all the coatings of lube, pre-cum, and the remnants of other guy's anonymous deposits into my hot tight ass. I sucked him to orgasm relishing the carnal soreness inside my crotch. Moments before I took him in my mouth he'd pumped me into an ass-gasm dribble-cum of my own. Now, my ass-cunt still convulsing, I was in full Ass-To-Mouth position. Called ATM, I looked up at him, blinking and batting my dark eyes at him like the grateful concubine I was that his cock was in my ass, and now was in my hungry mouth to please him. He looked down at me in my most submissive and feminine surrender. According to him, and others, my highlighted blue eyes were and "captivating." I knew he always wanted to see my face and my eyes in this most submissive of acts.

He was also a sexual being like myself that fit no labels or molds. A mirror-like kindred spirit, who was more dominant to my more submissive nature. I batted my eyelashes, fighting back a hard to prevent tear duct-reflex, as his cock once again pulled outward and then punched past my mouth and into my throat and slightly out of it once more.

"Ahhhhhh!!!!" he moaned. As he moaned his cock swelled and jumped in orgasmic spasm as semen blasted into my mouth. He came, each shot emphasized by a short, loud moan. It sounded like pain but was pain's polar opposite. "AH!" and another shot of cum blasted over my tongue. "AH!" another blast. Then, a less coherent "Uuuuaaaahhh!" and his cock pulsed over and over like a rock making ripples on still water.

Partly from my cocksucking and partly from his fuck-thrusts, my eyes were about to cry without an emotional cause. Occasionally I considered that perhaps these short periods of tears flowing while sucked cock was possibly some expression of extreme sexual joy, but I dismissed that when I realized that it only happened with cocks that were large enough to pop into my tight throat.

He moaned again as I actively resumed my gaze up into my master's handsome face. He met my stare and saw my eyes accented like always with cobalt blue shadow with silver highlights and dark eyeliner. I knew he could see my total ecstasy as I accepted his semen. That is why he was my new master. He understood how important his orgasm was to me.

In turn, I felt his total lust in the form of his now-throbbing cock. There is NOTHING like having a guy cum in your mouth. I felt him quickly and frantically brush a curl of my wavy burnt-orange and red wavy wig hair away from my cheek. I snuck a quick peek at myself in one of the many mirrors in the sex room he'd built for me. Or, or perhaps someone like me, who knew? Who cares? His cum was in me, not someone else. I looked to the side and loved the view of me, on my knees sucking him after I finished fucking him.

The evening's sex happened like this. Around 11pm that night I met up with him as planned in a sex club after I'd already visited some adult arcades and an adult theater. He found me on the second floor of the sex club bent forward in a perfect "Fuck-me L" receiving strange cocks on both ends. He chaperoned me the rest of the night as I was enjoyed by several others. He acted as a cuckold and watched me with around twenty other men, a few in small groups but most of them in one-on-one short sex sessions. Finally, around 3am, we decided to leave and take things to his home and savor a deep private fuck.

Back at his place, I fucked him in a twerking lap-dance with my high-heels and stockings against his inner thighs. I fucked myself and came really hard. My own cum arced up and out from my cock with the slightest of strokes from my own hand. My ass made the orgasm happen. I slammed myself down on his thick eight-inch German and Mexican cock and popping my prostate "g-spot" over and over and it made me cum. At first I slow-fucked myself on him, facing a mirror, watching myself, seeing him peek over my shoulders at the show occasionally, and edging myself with his big cock. Then he whispered that he wanted me to "cum like a whore." I that I had waited long enough, and gave him his wish. I decided to make myself cum and began a rougher, harder slamming fuck with a bt of a lean forward to pop my prostate g-spot each time. In seconds I knew I was passing over the edge and on my way to orgasm.

When I told him I was cumming he held my hands on the arm rests of the chair and thrusted up deep upward an forward into me to intensify the orgasm. He'd forced me into a hands-free, no-touching-the-cock orgasm. I let the orgasm start, but then pulled a hand free and stroked myself lightly about three or four times and made the ass-orgasm into an ass-cock orgasm, or a "double cum" orgasm.

"Uahhhhahahaha!!!!" I moaned in a femme-gurl voice, and then I breathed deeply and moaned out, "Uhhhahaha, I'm cumming-ahahahahaha!!!"

Now, cum flying everywhere, I was a total mindless sex-crazed slut.

Then he moaned and said, "Yes! Yes! Fuck yes!"

After the first part of my orgasm flowed he took over and said, "Get off me and suck my dick, suck my dick you fucking whore, get on your knees!"

Still cumming, but mindless and compliant, I slid forward, lowered myself to my knees, gripped my own cock to prolong the orgasm and went to receive the cherry on top of my orgasm, his cum in my mouth as I came. I was lust embodied and expressed.

He leaned forward and stood. He shoved his cock in my open wanton mouth and he had me go down on him maybe three blowjob thrusts and then he held me and popped into my throat.

As he throbbed he squinted his eyes, never fully closing them, and I knew, from so many other times with him, what he was about to say. I stroked myself to prolong the end of my own orgasm, my third of the day, as he gazed at me below him in my all-black slut-wear - shiny black vinyl bustier fetish wear, a similar garter belt, black sheer stockings, strapped-on patent leather five inch heels and a shiny glow of lube and cum stains on my well-used ass. He moaned and added to the end of the moan, he said, "You...are...so-fucking-good."

Fifteen minutes later he was fast asleep in his own room and I was in mine gazing at myself in a mirror placed directly in front of me for this purpose. I was silently fucking myself one last time for the day on a 8-inch midnight-black dildo fixed to a heavy weight-lifting bench and using a pulsing Magic Wand vibrator on my shaft. I desperately wanted to cum once more before I changed, showered and rested my over-sexed body. After a minute I received my wish and the last cum from my cock flowed over the vibrating wand head.

It was about four-thirty in the morning when I dropped off to sleep, my crotch muscles sore and cramping, but satiated for the time being...

The next morning my crotch and sex hurt. I took, no shit, some "Midol" to ease the pain and relax everything. Not dressed, but still creamy, smooth, and radiant from the femme-sex, I wore a black real silk robe that made my cock awaken as it touched the material. I walked from my room to the kitchen and found a small breakfast he'd left for me on a tray with a note. I noticed that it was just before noon and that my sugar daddy was already up and gone to the golf course for what he called "casual business meetings."

The was a note that said, "Enjoy yourself, I will be late and possibly gone till tomorrow sometime. Call me if you want me to bring back anything special."

Despite my outward less-than femme appearance, a deeply sexual and feminine smile extended across my face. "Anything special" could mean anything. An outfit, shoes, a hot Latino guy, a group of black guys...anything that was consensual and legal.

This Saturday in early June started my fifth week of me "living" in my sugar-daddy's very nice house. Set in western Las Vegas, the five-bedroom and four bathroom house was near a golf course, though he never played at that course. He kept clients well away from his little secret. That worked well for me because I needed to be discreet too. The house had good privacy, with a long front drive and a large nicely groomed front yard. He also had a three-car garage, a pool, and a bungalow, as well as a basement bonus room, a rarity in Vegas I was told.

My first real sugar daddy was a divorced high-end family-law lawyer who, like me, was very discreet about his flexible sexuality. In reality I was far more like his concubine. I earned my room and the amenities of the household through a very willing sharing of sexual perversions. I loved it, and he loved that I loved it. At times I was a secret gurlfriend, other times like a versatile twink-boy, but most often I was exactly like a slutty sex-addicted whore.

In return, he was landlord, head chef, head of household affairs, event planner, vacation provider, masseur, occasionally my butler, sometimes my bottom, often my cuckold, but always my Master. When he invited me to share his place, he'd asked me to appear to his neighbors as a room renter to any who saw me. Then he'd surprised me by saying that since my car was well-tinted, I could come and go, discreetly, as a gurl at night, when it was dark. He'd also told me the parts of the outside I could go dressed up, and the areas to stay away from. I never really wanted to "hang-out" on the patio dressed up, but it was nice that he considered it. The situation was absolutely amazing.

I looked over at my clock and saw it was already 11:50am and began to doze in my appropriately queen-sized bed. I rolled to one side, my soreness now dulled from the Midol. I decided to rest. I felt my insides shift and a wet sex-fart escaped my perfect ass. Then I felt the familiar wetness on my inner ass-cheek. I smiled a wicked smile to myself and began replay how I had gotten here. How the hell was I so lucky?

I arrived in Las Vegas early January. I was just over 19 years old. I'd joined the Air Force just over a year before and in doing so, I'd severed my ties to a very leud and miss-spent youth. I completed my entry training and then went on to complete my job or technical training at a base in North Carolina. When I joined the Air Force I had been trying to "straighten" myself out and halt my crossdressing and bisexual urges, but that deal failed completely. Instead, I began the process of accepting myself as what is now accurately expressed as Pansexual - I love to fuck anyone, and I have no relationship desires.

There was far too much hot fun in the southeast U.S. You just had to look below the surface. I found myself often driving north to Raleigh or heading south a few hours to Atlanta. After months to trying to get through training and stick to my intention of "straightening out" my true sexual nature surged out after I was "taken" by a hot TS prostitute. She'd befriended me in order to "fuck that cute young white ass," she later admitted. That amazing sex opened the floodgates of lust and desire. Now as an adult I had nothing governing my actions, so I quickly went further than I'd ever been able to take things growing up in southern California. I frequently drove to have a hot weekend in Raleigh, or, I took vacation time and long weekends in Atlanta. There was far more hetero-flexible black and white cock in the great southeast than there was in L.A. so, I was fucking as a dirty lil' white slut every chance I got.

By chance, I got transferred to the Air Force base in Las Vegas, where I promptly went crazy. I lost my fucking mind and quickly began a no-holds-barred sex quest.

But I also managed myself too. I did my job. As it happened, I had the perfect work situation with adequate discipline to keep me from going completely off the rails. I worked ten to fifteen days of intense, actually really cool Air Force "stuff," then had about the same kind of time when I was essentially off and had no significant work responsibilities. During those two weeks or so I would be 12 on, 12 off schedule, with an occasional 24-hour shift. But then, to make things right, I was given similar odd hours off. I was often just "released" for several days after being on those kinds of duty hours for several days with no break. It was sweet.

A few weeks after I arrived and during the first rotation of that duty schedule I hooked up with a young female officer. We shared the odd duty hours with in a very small workspace. I was her subordinate and for the first few days we barely spoke. Then, for no real reason, we talked a lot. At one point we broke the rules of good order, and subjects took a turn toward sex and we eventually found that we both needed an "anonymous sex friend," in her words.

I was totally into her for about four weeks. She was older, about 26 maybe, and looked like a petite Beyonce and Rhianna mix with a little extra white-girl added. She wore a tight Air Force flight/jumpsuit with kinky lingerie underneath that she teased me with at about 1am one morning three days before the military training exercise ended. After that, we broke all the rules and we fucked on the floor of our little secluded workspace. Ironically, she really got off on being sexually submissive to me. I found that her life's sex evolution was somewhat similar to my own, but in an incestuous way. Though I found incest off-putting and somewhat unfortunate, she was actually excited by her past. Like me, she was orally and anally inclined and very orgasmic. I loved fucking her and listening to her moan her own sex history and confessions with extended family and friends of her parents. It made her cum as she confessed her degradation, and that made me cum too.

Then, between our third and forth exercise rotation, just as we were getting particularly nasty, she was caught with someone's spouse, a wife I think, and piss was involved I guess. Anyway, she was summarily and immediately transferred. To her credit, she never "outed" our thing, in fact, I doubt it has ever been in writing till now. I know she landed on her feet, well knees at least. I saw her on a senior staff traveling to bases from DC. She didn't see me in the crowd, but I could see her beaming at senior officers and knew she'd found her way. Good for her!

After that short affair, I turned to my own sex quest.

I'd actually never stopped being a gurl while I was with her, but now my whorish inclinations gained a momentum of their own. "Rebeca" soon became integral to me. Priorities expanded like never before. My immature opportune lusty approach developed a thoughtful orderly set of rules and deeper focus. I wasn't just realizing I had a few hours to play and doing it, I was organizing myself to meet work expectations but then use the time and resources I had to get the most out of my off time. I made sure to play the hardest and best I could. My life shifted and had two distinct aspects.

Almost every bit of time off I was doing something sex-focused. I was at a bathouse, or buying gurly things, or actually out playing around. At the bathhouse I learned about the adult theaters and sex clubs. At sex clubs I learned about gay clubs and hook-up sites on-line. Online I made friends with guys in Vegas or about to come to Vegas. It was INSANE. C-List was out and people like me were using it all the time, with mixed results. When it worked, it was amazing, but for every hook-up that went well you had dozens more that were flakes or did show but were limp, smelled terrible, were obese, or were disappointing in other ways.

At arcades and theaters I had the most and best sex. One time a guy asked me right after he came in my mouth why I wasn't at a tranny bar called "The Lounge."

Las Vegas sex places were exciting, but one place shaped me more than everywhere else I went, and it was called The Las Vegas Lounge. The Lounge was (until fucking 2020 killed it) in an area called "Commercial Center" that has offices, night clubs, shops, and a few sex clubs in the buildings that form a rough square about a half-mile in diameter. The first time I went to The Lounge I went as a guy and nobody carded me so after a single drink I found myself having a wildly enthusiastic sample blow-job outside The Lounge in a nearby office doorway. The black hair of incredibly gorgeous Filipino-American TS whore - who I saw later online in some porn - worked me up as she offered a business arrangement. She explained that I reminded her of an old boyfriend so she really wanted to get with me and offered a big price break. She was like me- enthusiastic and very talented and loved hot sex. All she wanted was $80 and for me to pay for a cheap motel room for the rest of the night. Thirty minutes after we'd agreed on a "long-time" experience and I was paying for a cheap room near the old strip and the rest of the night with her. We flip-fucked and did a lot of everything. Each of us came, took a nap, then woke up and fucked some more. We both loved feeling the other one cum in our mouth. We had a great time and as we got ready to part, she told me she was heading to Miami for a convention and maybe for some "port-side" opportunities. She planned to be gone about two months but she wanted to see me when she was back. I was smitten and was terribly disappointed, but later the next night I got over it with a few big black cocks at the bathhouse.