Roberta Slut

This is not a true story, but it is inspired by a true story, and I'd like to thank Roberta for sharing it with me.

'For a good time, call xxx-xxx-xxxx'

The line was written on the outside of a locker in the gym's shower. I licked my finger and tried to rub it off, but I was getting nowhere fast. At least this one didn't have the additional info 'That's Robert's MOM LOL' written under it. I sighed dejectedly because I knew I'd hear this joked about every day after gym now.

"You okay over there?" a voice spoke.

It was Mark. I saw him approaching as I glanced at the sound. Mark is huge. Too big for a wide receiver from what the other guys on the team tell me, but he is a such a natural athlete it didn't stop him from being one of the school's star players.

His size wasn't only due to being held back a year, which allowed me to catch up with him back in fourth grade, but due to his obsessive weightlifting and eating like 4,000 calories every day. He was almost a foot taller than me as well, so when he walked up to the locker and inspected it, I naturally shrank back.

He saw the source of my frustration, "Well aren't you glad you guys moved back?" He laughed trying to downplay it. When I didn't perk up he said, "We'll get some rubbing alcohol tomorrow and get rid of it okay?" He put his arm over my shoulder, leading me away.

"Okay." I whispered. My mom had tried moving us last year, in an attempt to stop the bullying and get away from her reputation. Hopeless though, because she quickly reestablished it, and without a friend in the new school we both found that town somehow less inviting than our small-town home.

At least here I had Mark. I'd met him in fourth grade and helped him with his schoolwork for years, so that by the time we were old enough for my frail, thin frame, and soft girlish features to make me the object of ridicule he had already become the lion to my mouse (this is not to say that Mark was stupid, just disinterested). He was so popular among the sports teams that the football team and cheerleaders left me completely alone. Unfortunately, his influence ended there and if he wasn't around, I had to be weary of the rest of the student body.

'Faggot!' Was constantly scrawled on anything I left unattended. The kids who didn't directly fuck with me still knew my mom was the town whore and would do their laughing behind my back.

"Did you get accepted?" Mark asked.

"I, ah, haven't gotten a letter back."

Mark nodded, "Well I got accepted so I'm sure yours is coming, you have way better academic stats."

But not sports stats. I thought.

We parted ways to climb on our respective busses, and I shrank down into my seat in the back, trying to hide. Not hard when you're 110 pounds, eh, 120. I actually have gained a few pounds lately. I had been inspecting myself in the gym's mirror over the last few days, confused because my stomach hadn't grown at all. It was then that I realized, embarrassingly, that I had gained the weight in my hips.

"What the fuck?" I had whispered to myself. Men are supposed to get fat tummies before butts, or so I'd thought. At least it wasn't very noticeable if I wore loose clothing.

When I arrived home there was a familiar car in my driveway, Mr. Hayden's. I crept in softly, not wanting to interrupt what was probably going on. Mr. Hayden had a strange personality. I was never sure if he was pissed or joking and given his muscular build I didn't want to risk finding out what his reaction to my intrusion on his time with my mother would be.

I could hear them as I walked down the hallway to my room. They had left the door wide open. I wondered if my mother did this intentionally, for it was common, and she knew I'd be home before they were done, or she should have. The sound of the bed creaking echoed out of her room and towards me.

"Stop squirming bitch." Hayden's deep voice.

"Uugh hoooow, you, yyyooure too fuc-fucking bah, big!"

Was she putting on? I felt like she must be, because how could she have any difficulty taking a cock? That would be like me having trouble finding the bus stop outside the house.

I heard both of them grunting and I couldn't resist peeking. Hayden had my mother folded almost in half and was driving into her from above, her small body (I realized I now weighed more than her) quaking. Her long black hair spilled off the side of the bed, and her features looked very Asian in that moment. I wondered again who my unknown grandfather was. Her mother had been a whore as well I suspected, though mom never said so, for she didn't know who her father was, just like I didn't know mine.

"You had an orgasm yet slut?"

"Umm, you can't tell?" my mother replied, grabbing her legs to try to steady them.

"How many bitch?"

"Uuugghh, I've had... four, fuck yeeess."

"Good cause I can't hold this shit anymore. Time for you to take my load."

"Oh, wait... just two more minutes!"

Hayden laughed, "Shut up, you god damn whore... hmmm, shit yeah take it."

I saw Hayden's thrust become less measured, and on the final one he held himself, groin pressing onto my mother, and ground against her. I saw her toes curling as he did this, and thankfully she shut her eyes, biting her lip as her head turned towards the door I now watched from. She worked her hips from under him, pulling a bit more pleasure from his sensitive cock.

"Fiivvveee." She moaned, twitching on his dick. Then she opened her eyes, staring straight at me. I froze, knowing that darting away would be pointless, it was obvious I'd been watching. Her lips formed a smile though, and she winked at me before grabbing Mr. Hayden by the neck and pulling him in for a deep kiss.

I retreated to my room before I got spotted by Mr. Hayden as well. I worried I'd be getting a reprimand from mom but really, I knew deep down she wasn't going to. She didn't care about stuff like that.

I discarded my shirt and started looking in the right side of my dresser. The left has all my clothes for public and the right has those I wear at home. I choose a white V-neck shirt, with lace patterns all over it, and placed it on the bed. I also grabbed a light grey miniskirt to go with it.

I removed my pants, rubbing my fingers over the black cotton of the panties I had beneath. My dick had hardened watching my mother, and a wet spot was forming at the tip, but that would be fine. I looked at myself in the mirror for a moment, turning left and right. As I spun I noticed the way my chest was sort of, perky like I was developing-

"Roberta!" my mom yelled.

I gulped, concerned that I'd be lectured, or worse, spanked.

I opened my door and went into the hallway, looking around for Hayden, but I didn't see him.

My mother was on the bed, still naked. She extended her arms, "Come give me a hug!" She ordered.

I crawled into bed with her and she pulled me tight. There were drops of semen on her chest, Hayden must have pulled out and had her clean him. I didn't mention it as she held my head to her bosom.

"How was school baby?" She asked.

"Fine." I claimed.

"Really?" She asked.

I squeezed her back tightly, enjoying the way her soft skin felt on mine. She was so beautiful, my mother. Too beautiful to be a whore for all these men, I thought, but try telling her that. I still hope she will find just one that would keep her. Maybe that could be Hayden.

"Mike's gone already?" I asked.

"He had to work." She lied.

So probably not Hayden.

"Let's take a shower!" she exclaimed, changing the subject.

I was surprised, but agreed. We hadn't showered together since I was 14. Fortunately, I had realized before then that the practice wouldn't be smiled on, and never mentioned this to my peers. Yet there was nothing sexual about it, or there wasn't then. I just enjoyed her body for its aesthetic beauty, and we giggled, more like sisters. Now however, as she ran her hands over my chest, I tried desperately to not get an erection as she soaped my shaved legs and butt.

Her hands going through my long hair helped. I focused on that, and then on shampooing and conditioning her hair. When she had me start scrubbing her skin though, I couldn't help it. I tried not to think about her breast, but her curves weren't much less arousing, and in no time my small (but not like, joke small) dick was standing straight up. I was embarrassed, but she didn't mention it, not even when she soaped me up and ran her hands to my crotch, gently rubbing between my asscheeks, cupping my nuts and actually pulling back my foreskin to lather my dick. She wrapped her hand around it and stroked it a few times, just enough that I couldn't be sure it she was trying to arouse me, or just doing a very thorough cleaning.

Afterwards I put on my skirt and lace shirt, and we sat together on the couch. I was too big to sit in her lap, as I'd done for so many years, now we sat cuddled together, watching the tv and eating the dinner she'd made us off the coffee table.

"Next year you'll be in college." She observed.

"Yeah, hopefully." I replied.

"I hope you get accepted here." She said.

"Me too." If I did, we could continue to live together, and it would save a boatload of money.

"Will you be missing any girls at school?" She asked me.

"G-girls?" I fumbled.

"Boys?"

"No..." I was embarrassed by this line of questioning. I hadn't really had any love life. I guess the apple fell far from the tree in that respect.

"Well in college people are more accepting." She said.

Accepting of what? I wondered. Did she mean I should go out in girl's clothes? She'd always said I should have been a girl, and treated me like a sister half the time. She had taught me that it was okay to wear panties, and how soft and fun it was to dress up. Unfortunately, my reaction to her in the shower showed that I still had very male urges, and equipment. I'd always thought this was just for fun, just at home. I wanted to ask but, I didn't want to have that conversation. I decided she just meant they wouldn't tease me for being a frail pipsqueak.

We talked about Hayden, and Mr. Fisher. Mr. Fisher was new and had come over twice. He was a bit of a drunk, I teased my mother for liking him, saying that he was fat and hairy. She laughed, "He's just stocky!" She countered, "Also he, um, is even bigger than Mike."

I blinked, "How... big is Mike?"

She took her fist and put one over the other. "When I'm squeezing him like this," She said," I can still suck on his head." This was a lot of information for her to share, but in our house it was normal. You could say I grew up in a one-woman brothel.

"But Thomas," She said, referring to Mr. Fisher, "I can't wrap my hand around it." She made what an observer would have thought was a 'C' with her hand, but I knew she was holding his phantom cock, fingers unable to touch around it. "He doesn't last like Mike but it is intense."

I nodded, wondering what something like that would feel like forcing its way into a person. My mom has taken a lot of cock but, normally her hole would just be closed right, so how did it stretch for something almost as thick as a beer can?

I was still thinking about it when I went to bed, imagining how something like that might fit, not just in my mother, but maybe in me. This ignited a familiar retread of thoughts I often have, am I gay? Am I, or was I supposed to be, a girl? If I'm a girl and I want a cock am I straight?

* * *

The next day at school was a drag, it being the last month and our graduation all but certain. I believe the whole student body felt the restless anticipation of our last summer before college looming. A great change was coming, an end to the established rhythm and the beginning of a new one.

The writing was gone from the locker room when I finished gym class. I silently thanked Mark and got in the shower, stepping behind the curtain to change as always. As I undressed though, the curtain was flung open. I was horrified for a moment, thinking this was some bully taking things very far, but it was Mark. My relief was short lived however, as I realized he could see my pink panties, because I was holding my loose fitting cargo pants in my hands.

"Damn Robert." He whispered, looking around to see if he'd revealed me to anyone else. "Sorry, I ah, thought you were just shy about your dick size or something."

"Nothing!" I insisted. "And I just ran out of ah, boxers."

He burst out laughing, "Seriously? That's funny don't sweat it man, but really..." He reached out and, to my horror, squeezed my ass. "Wow you feel just like my girlfriend. Did you get like, a surgery?"

I made the faintest moan as he fondled me, and clinched my teeth to stop it, slapping his hand away. "No, I've gained some weight man!" I corrected him.

"Weight? What do you weigh a buck twenty? Your ass looks like a girls bro, probably even without the ah, panties..."

I pushed him out and closed the curtain. He spoke from the other side, "I got a game Saturday night, Wendy is on her period so if you wanna hang out we can afterwards. Anyway, catch you later man."

When I got home it was there in the mailbox, the letter. I was alone at home, my mother being at work, and I stared at it for a long while, working up the nerve to open it. I considered letting my mom read it first, but then chided myself for being an overly emotional baby, and tore into the letter, holding my breath.

I was accepted into the local university. I almost swooned with joy, I could keep living at home, and Mark would be around as well.

I dressed in a blue gown, a long skirted flowery thing. I put on a bra and packed the cups, checking myself, mainly my ass, out in the mirror. "Jeez." I muttered, "I'm getting fat." I looked in the mirror and said to myself, "Don't you look sexy?" Then in another pitch, "Whose that cute girl?" I tried to sound more feminine, more seductive, "Do you want to fuck me, Mr. Hayden?"

I was eating the lasagna my mom had left me in the fridge and watching youtube when the doorbell rang. It was late, too late for the mail or any reasonable door-to-door type. "What the fuck?" I whispered, going to the door. I only cracked it slightly, being dressed as I was and unsure who was outside, but as soon as I did the man forced his was in, despite my startled yell.

I stepped back quickly as in stumbled a clearly intoxicated Mr. Fisher.

"Thomas! What are you doing?"

"Good evening Ms!" Mr. Fisher yelled, much too loudly, and staggered towards me.

I raised my hands in a warding gesture, but he crashed through them, his weight forcing him into me. "Mr. Fisher, I" my words were cut off as his lips pressed to mine. He was big, stocky, or fat, whatever, but big. With perhaps twice my weight, I struggled to push him back. His tongue licked my lips, but I kept them shut, until I took a moment to try speaking reason to him again which proved useless, only allowing him to force his tongue into my mouth.

He smelled of alcohol and cigarettes, but also sweat. He was fumbling stupidly at my dress, trying to remove it. This proved too much for him but pushing me back was within his power. I found myself falling through my mother's door and being forced onto the bed. He let me alone for a moment, and I tried to catch my breath, sitting up.

"Mr. Fisher," I started, but upon sitting up on the bed, I saw he had dropped his pants, and I froze, staring at his enormous cock. "Jesus..." I whispered. I was caught like a deer in the headlights, not reacting again until his hand grabbed my shoulders, pushing me to the bed. "It's me!" I squealed just as he kissed me again, even harder now that his weight was settling on top of me. I could fell the shape of his cock through my dress, he was starting to grind it against my crotch, and I felt myself becoming hard under him. I shifted so that he wouldn't feel my own dick, realizing as I did that the act was prolonging this farce, which I needed to stop.

Or did I?

I considered for a moment. I would have to bite or pinch him, or something equally forceful, to snap him out of it... or I could just, play with him some. I'd seen my mother do it many times, and part of me wondered what his big cock felt like in her hands.

Thomas sat up, and rubbed his eyes, looking at me closely. "Oh shit." He said. "You're her fucking daughter ain't yah?"

I blinked, and I had two competing thoughts, the first; what a drunken idiot. The second thought was flattered, because he thought I was a girl, which actually wasn't that surprising. My mother called me 'Roberta' around the house, and I always dressed in women's clothing at home. It had not occurred to him that I had a little dick inside these panties.

He plopped himself down in the chair at my mother's dressing table, leaning back with his cock swinging in front of him. "God damn I almost, I'm too drunk." He kept rubbing his eyes, as if that would sober him.

I stared at his huge cock, transfixed, licking my lips. "Mr. Fisher." I said cautiously. "Maybe I can help you out for tonight... if you won't tell my mom." I crawled from the bed, approaching him across the floor like a tiger stalking its prey.

"I don't know..." He mumbled half-heartedly; his interest peaked again.

He made no motion as I ran my hands up his legs, bringing my face up to his cock, admiring it. Where I thought mine was perfectly round and straight, well-shaped though small, his was uneven and curved, even flat a bit, more an oval than a circle. The head made me think of a hammerhead shark, and I smiled at the comparison.

"You like that sweet girl?" He asked me, to which I nodded.

"It's so thicccck." I said in my best seductress voice.

I brought my right hand to the shaft lightly touching the skin. It was soft, shockingly soft. You can't appreciate exactly how a cock feels from touching yourself I realized, just as you can't tickle yourself, and how your skin feels different when numb. I squeezed it and let the hardness that lay under the surface, the engorged flesh forming a long spear. I stroked him up and down, slowly, enjoying how the skin moved some and I could pull it up around his head if I wanted to, playing with it.

I'd fantasized many times about what it might be like, to touch another guy, to hold his cock and jerk him, making him cum. I was never sure if I really wanted it, but this was my big chance, and nobody would know. I had this thick cock all to myself, so I explored it. His was so different from mine, so masculine, I felt myself straining in my panties, totally turned on just from the heat of it in my hands.

I slid my fingers up and toyed with the spongy head of his cock, a tiny drop of precum had formed, and I dipped my finger in it, running it around the pink glands at the base of his cockhead.

"You want to make me feel really good sweetie?" He groaned at me.

I nodded. "Yeah Mr, I will, I'll make you feel great."

"Why don't you suck on it some?"

Oh fuck of course he wanted that. I'd intended to jerk him off but obviously he saw this young woman crawl between his legs and naturally concluded he was getting a blowjob. I was on my knees in front of him, holding his cock, my face inches from it. My stomach went in knots. I'd never done anything like this, did I want to suck on a cock? It seemed like my body was saying yes. Did I want Mr. Fisher to be the first cock I sucked? Probably not really, but there it was, huge and hot, pulsing in front of me. Maybe I'd just let it touch my lips.

I leaned in and kissed the tip, receiving a groan of approval from Mr. Fisher. I lightly ran my hand up and down his shaft as I did, but I realized I couldn't keep that up. The sweat and precum were dampening his skin enough to cause drag, but not lubricate. My hands weren't gliding as easily, so I had to add lube. I put my lips just on the tip of his dick and let drool start to run out of my mouth. Catching it in my fingers I spread it around his head and down to his balls. Doing this reminded me that these soft nuts were going unattended and I put one hand on them.