Being A Slut

He didn’t come out and say it, but I knew he was thinking it by the way he looked at me. We didn’t even know each other existed a half dozen hours ago. We met on the beach earlier that afternoon. Now, we were naked in his bed, both our bodies covered in sweat, his cum recently deposited on to my tits. He thought I was a slut.

Not many guys come straight out and say it. A few have, but most seem afraid of the word or afraid of how I’ll react to it. I’m sure many have said behind my back.

I was first labeled a slut early in high school, not fault of my own. No matter what I wore, my breasts wouldn’t hide. That made some girls jealous and some let me know their opinions of me.

I’d also say I earned the title in high school. I like sex, guys like having sex with me. It’s win, win…if you ask me. I consider myself a slut now and today the word no longer caries an insult.

I don’t know why I am the way that I am, I just am. I crave cum. One guy is fun, but sometimes I want more. I’m a slut.

I’ll be the first to admit that at first I didn’t really get why it was such a big deal. However, at the same time I enjoyed the reaction when I gave a blowjob, opened my legs or even just pulled off my shirt.

People that know my secret have tried to psychoanalyze me and assume I was abused or something like that. I did start having sexual experiences early, but I was never abused or anything like that.

It’s just something I like doing. I even consider myself good at it. I guess you could say it’s my hobby. Some girls are naturally good at painting, others excel in school. I was naturally good at making men cum and excel at sucking cock.

I don’t wear a sign and I think most people still think I’m this sweet, average girl, but if you’re reading this blog, you know exactly how slutty I am.