Tammy’s Loss, My Load

Bullied at the reunion? She steals the bully’s hot boyfriend and fucks him senseless at his cabin.

Tags: trans erotica, revenge sex, cuckquean, cheating boyfriend, anal creampie, deepthroat, ass worship, small cock trans, bully payback, lakeside fuck

* * *

The reunion party had been a disaster from the moment I walked in. I’d shown up looking every bit the pretty young thing I’d become—my dark, waist-length hair cascading down my back in silky waves, framing a delicate face with those large brown doe eyes that always drew second glances, my bee-stung lips painted a soft rose that made them look even fuller. At five-foot-six and sixty-five kilos, the hormones had done their work beautifully, softening me in all the right ways: gentle curves at my hips that flared just enough to catch the eye, shapely thighs that brushed together with every step, and a thick, rounded backside that filled out my jeans in a way that turned heads. My light brown skin glowed under the string lights, smooth everywhere except for the places I loved keeping natural—the soft bush above my diminutive three-and-a-half-inch cock and the dark tufts under my arms that I refused to shave because they made me feel undeniably sexy in my own skin.

Tammy, that loud-mouthed, bottle-blonde white-trash nightmare from our senior class, had spotted me immediately. She was hanging off the arm of her new prize like a trophy, her cheap acrylic nails digging into the sleeve of his expensive button-down. Ryan was twenty-eight, tall and broad-shouldered with a jawline that could cut glass, dark hair tousled just right, and the kind of quiet confidence that came with money and good looks. He looked at her like she was the best thing he’d ever seen—until his eyes drifted over to me and lingered. Tammy noticed. She’d sauntered over, drink sloshing in her hand, and let loose right there in front of everyone. “Look at this little freak trying to play dress-up,” she’d sneered, loud enough for the whole circle to hear. “Still pretending you’re one of the girls, huh? Pathetic.” Her laughter had cut through the music like a knife, and the group had joined in, eyes flicking down to where my body didn’t quite match the fantasy I projected. I’d smiled sweetly through it all, but inside, the humiliation burned hot and deep. She thought she’d won by bagging a guy like Ryan. I decided right then she was going to lose everything.

Over the next few weeks, I played it perfectly—sweet, coy, never pushing too hard. I “bumped into” Ryan at the coffee shop near his office, all wide-eyed innocence and soft smiles. “Sorry, I’m such a klutz,” I’d said, my voice light and breathy as I brushed my hair behind one ear, letting the scent of my vanilla body spray drift toward him. We talked. He remembered me from the party, but not the way Tammy had painted me. He asked questions, and I answered honestly—yes, I was trans; yes, I’d always known; no, it didn’t change who I was. His eyes had darkened with interest instead of disgust. I kept it slow: flirty texts that never crossed into desperate, innocent lunches where my foot would accidentally brush his under the table, long walks where I’d lean into his side just enough for him to feel the soft press of my small, rounded breasts against his arm. He fell. Hard. By the fourth week, he was canceling plans with Tammy to meet me instead, his hands lingering on my waist a little too long, his kisses growing hungrier when we’d steal moments in his car.

The turning point came on what was supposed to be his weekend getaway with her at his family’s lakeside cabin. He’d texted me instead, asking if I wanted to come along. I met him at his house, heart pounding with the thrill of it all. We’d spent the day together—but when night fell and he tried to pull me close, I stopped him, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “If you want this—if you want me—you have to choose,” I whispered, my doe eyes locked on his. “Break up with her. For real. Or I walk.” He’d stared at me for a long time, the firelight flickering across his handsome face, weighing everything. Tammy’s name hung in the air like smoke. Then he’d pulled out his phone, right there in front of me, and called her. I listened as he did it—cowardly, quick, over the line instead of in person. “It’s not working, Tam. I’m sorry. It’s over.” Her screaming had echoed through the speaker, but he’d hung up and turned back to me, pulling me into a kiss that tasted like relief and new beginnings. I didn’t mind the cowardice. The more it stung for her, the sweeter it felt.

The next weekend, he picked me up in his sleek black SUV, the engine purring like a promise as I slid into the passenger seat. I’d dressed for the occasion—practical but impossible to ignore. Subtle makeup enhanced my features without overdoing it: just enough mascara to make my large brown eyes pop, a hint of gloss on my full lips. A cozy beanie kept my head warm from the cool mountain breeze, while my sleeveless puffer jacket hugged my upper body, the zipper pulled low enough to hint at the soft swell beneath. Underneath, a long-sleeve flannel shirt—red and black plaid—draped over my frame, the fabric soft against my smooth skin. My tight yoga pants clung to every curve, molding to my shapely thighs and the thick, chunky roundness of my ass that jiggled faintly with each step. A tiny black thong disappeared between those cheeks, and sturdy hiking boots completed the look, laces tied tight. I caught Ryan staring as I buckled in, his gaze tracing the way the pants stretched across my hips.

The two-hour drive was pure fun—windows down, music blasting, his hand resting high on my thigh like it belonged there. We laughed about nothing and everything, my voice light and teasing as I told him stories from my week, my fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “You’re trouble, you know that?” he murmured at one point, squeezing my leg. I just smiled innocently, leaning over to press a soft kiss to his cheek, my breath warm against his ear. Halfway there, while he was focused on a winding stretch of road, I pulled out my phone and typed a quick anonymous text to Tammy’s number—I’d saved it after the party, just in case. Your ex is at the family cabin with someone way hotter than you. Lakeside Pines, off Route 47. Enjoy stewing on that. I hit send, deleted the thread, and slipped the phone away. She still didn’t know it was me who’d stolen him. Let her simmer and cook a little longer. The thought made my pulse quicken with delicious revenge.

We pulled up to the cabin just as the sun climbed high, the wooden structure nestled among towering evergreens, the lake sparkling beyond the dock like a mirror. Ryan grabbed our bags, and I helped, my puffer jacket rustling as I moved. Inside, the place was cozy and masculine—exposed beams, a massive stone fireplace, plush couches, and a king-sized bed in the loft upstairs. We settled in quickly, unpacking just enough before the day pulled us outside. The air smelled of pine and water, crisp and invigorating. Ryan’s eyes kept drifting back to me, appreciative, hungry already.

We started with fishing off the dock. I’d never done it before, but he showed me patiently, his strong arms wrapping around me from behind as he helped cast the line, his chest pressed to my back. My yoga pants stretched taut as I leaned forward, and I felt his hands linger on my hips, thumbs brushing the curve where my ass met my thighs. “You look incredible out here,” he said, voice low. I laughed softly, turning in his arms to face him, my full lips brushing his. “Flattery will get you everywhere.” We caught a couple of small bass, enough for dinner, and the whole time I made sure to bend just so, letting him watch the way my thick backside shifted, the way my flannel shirt rode up to reveal a sliver of smooth skin at my lower back.

Lunch was simple—grilled fish tacos we cooked together in the cabin’s kitchen, me chopping vegetables while he manned the pan. I kept stealing bites from his plate, my body brushing against his every chance I got, my soft curves pressing into his solid frame. “You’re insatiable,” he teased, pulling me close for a deep kiss that left me breathless, his hands sliding down to knead the plush fullness of my ass through the yoga pants. I moaned into his mouth, encouraging him, my fingers tangling in his shirt.

After eating, we headed into the forest to gather wood for the fireplace. The trail was narrow, dappled with sunlight filtering through the trees. I walked ahead on purpose, knowing exactly how my hips swayed, how the tight fabric hugged my chunky rear with every step. Ryan’s gaze burned into me; I could feel it. When I bent to pick up a fallen branch, he was right there, hands on my waist, spinning me around for another heated make-out session against a tree trunk. His palms roamed freely—groping my breasts through the layers, thumbs circling the sensitive peaks until they hardened, then sliding lower to squeeze and spank my ass lightly, the sharp smack echoing softly. “God, you feel so good,” he growled between kisses. I arched into him, my voice a husky whisper. “Keep touching me like that and we might not make it back to the cabin.”

Swimming came next. The lake was cold but refreshing after the hike. I stripped down to just my thong revealing the smooth expanse of my light brown skin, the darker shade along my inner thighs and between my cheeks peeking out as I waded in. Ryan joined me in his swim trunks, water sluicing over his muscular chest. We splashed and played like teenagers, but the touches grew bolder. He pulled me against him in the shallows, my legs wrapping around his waist as we kissed deeply, his hands cupping and kneading my thick ass underwater, fingers teasing the edge of my thong. My small cock stirred in my panties, but I didn’t hide it; he already knew, and the way he ground against me told me he loved every inch of my body exactly as it was.

By evening, we were both starving again. We cooked a proper meal—steak and vegetables on the grill outside, eaten by the fire pit as the sun dipped low, painting the lake in oranges and pinks. Conversation flowed easy, laced with flirtation. I told him how happy I was to be here, how right it felt. He confessed he’d never felt this way about anyone, his hand resting on my thigh under the table. “You’re everything she wasn’t,” he said, eyes intense. I leaned in, my long hair brushing his shoulder. “Good. Because I’m not letting you go.”

As night settled in, the cabin grew warm from the fire we’d built with the wood we’d gathered. I’d changed into something softer upstairs—a loose tank top that clung to my gentle A-cup breasts and tiny sleep shorts that barely covered the lower curve of my ass—but the day’s teasing had built something electric between us. Ryan sat on the large leather couch by the fireplace, the flames casting flickering shadows across his handsome face. I stood in front of him, heart racing with anticipation and the thrill of what was coming. This was my reward to him—for his patience, for choosing me, for making Tammy’s world crumble without her even knowing my name yet. I stepped closer, my voice low and sultry. “You’ve been so good to me today. Let me take care of you now.”

We came together in a rush of heat. Our mouths met first, hungry and open, tongues sliding and dancing as his hands roamed my body. I pushed the tank top up and over my head, baring my smooth, soft breasts with their dark, pebbled nipples. He groaned, cupping them immediately, thumbs rolling over the sensitive tips while I worked his shirt buttons open, revealing the hard planes of his chest. My fingers trailed down, unbuckling his belt, shoving his jeans and boxers down in one eager motion until his thick, seven-and-a-half-inch cock sprang free, already heavy and half-hard, veins pulsing along the shaft, his heavy balls hanging low beneath. I stripped my shorts and thong away next, kicking them aside until I stood completely naked before him—my light brown skin glowing in the firelight, my curvy hips and thick, jiggly ass on full display, the dark tuft of pubic hair framing my tiny, soft cock and tight sac. He drank me in, eyes dark with lust, hands gripping my waist as we kissed again, deeper this time, bodies pressing flush—my pert breasts against his chest, my thickening little shaft brushing his thigh.

He pulled back just enough to sit fully on the couch, legs spread wide, his impressive cock now fully erect and throbbing against his stomach. I smiled, slow and wicked, sinking to my knees on the rug in front of him. The fire crackled behind me, warming my bare skin as I settled between his thighs, my long dark hair spilling over my shoulders. My hands rested on his knees, sliding up slowly, eyes locked on his as I leaned in close. My full lips parted, breath ghosting over the flushed head of his cock, and I felt a shiver run through him. I smiled up at him, my large brown doe eyes heavy-lidded with hunger, before leaning in closer. My soft, full mouth brushed the silky tip first, a gentle kiss that made his thick shaft twitch against my cheek. I dragged my tongue slowly along the underside, tracing the prominent vein that pulsed there, savoring the salty warmth of his skin. My hands came up then, one wrapping around the base of his seven-and-a-half-inch length while the other cupped his heavy balls, rolling them gently in my palm, feeling their weight and the soft, wrinkled texture that tightened under my touch. I stroked him slowly at first, my fingers gliding over the velvety shaft, twisting lightly at the head on every upstroke while my tongue flicked and swirled around the sensitive ridge.

“You taste so good,” I murmured against him, my voice breathy and full of need, before opening wider and taking the head into my mouth. My lips stretched around him, sealing tight as I sucked softly, hollowing my cheeks while my tongue pressed flat against the underside. I bobbed deeper, inch by inch, until I felt him bump the back of my throat. I relaxed, swallowing around him, taking every thick inch until my nose nestled against his trimmed pubic hair. His balls rested warm against my chin as I held there, throat working rhythmically, massaging him with wet heat. Ryan groaned loud, his hand tangling in my long dark hair, not pushing but holding me close like he never wanted it to end. I pulled back slowly, strings of spit connecting my swollen lips to his glistening cock, and dove right back in, faster now, my head moving in a steady rhythm. My free hand never stopped massaging his balls, squeezing them lightly, tugging the heavy sac downward while my mouth slurped and sucked noisily, spit dripping down my chin onto my small, rounded breasts.

I could feel him swelling thicker in my throat, his breaths coming ragged. “Baby, I’m close,” he gasped, but I didn’t pull away. Instead I took him even deeper, humming around his length so the vibrations rippled through him. His hips jerked once, twice, and then he was spilling, hot and thick, pulse after pulse flooding straight down my throat. I swallowed every drop without wasting a single one, my eyes locked on his the whole time, my throat contracting around him until he was spent and softening just a little in my mouth. I kept sucking gently through it, cleaning him with my tongue, licking every inch until he was shiny and wet all over again.

Ryan’s hands were on me then, pulling me up with a growl of pure want. He stood, turning me around and guiding me toward the same couch. I knew exactly what he wanted. I climbed onto the cushions on my knees, my hands gripping the top of the backrest, my thick, chunky ass sticking out toward him invitingly. My back arched deep, pushing my plush rear higher, the darker skin between my cheeks and along my inner thighs already flushed and warm from the firelight. He dropped to his knees behind me, his breath hot against my skin as he started kissing the full, rounded globes of my backside. His lips were soft at first, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses all over the smooth curves, then his hands joined in, kneading the soft flesh hard enough that my ass jiggled under his palms. He spread my cheeks wide, exposing everything, and dragged his tongue slowly up the cleft, tasting the darker, sensitive skin there. A low moan escaped me as he circled my tight hole with the flat of his tongue, licking broad and lazy before pointing it and pushing inside.

“Fuck, you taste incredible,” he muttered against me, voice muffled, before spitting directly onto my entrance. The warm saliva trickled down, and he used his fingers to spread it, rubbing circles around my rim before sliding one thick digit inside. I pushed back against him, my inner walls clenching greedily as he worked it deeper, curling to brush that spot that made sparks shoot up my spine. He added a second finger, scissoring them open while his mouth returned, licking and sucking around them, biting gently at the soft flesh of my cheeks between strokes. His free hand spanked me lightly at first, then harder, the sharp smacks ringing out and making my thick ass ripple and sting in the best way. He ate me like he was starving, tongue fucking deep alongside his fingers, spitting again and again to keep everything slick and messy. My small three-and-a-half-inch cock hung heavy between my thighs, leaking steadily onto the couch cushion, untouched but throbbing from the relentless pressure on my prostate.

He kept at it for what felt like forever, fingers thrusting faster, tongue lapping and swirling, his hands groping and spanking until my knees trembled and my plush rear was red and marked with his handprints. Only when his own cock was rock-hard again, slapping against his stomach, did he pull back. He stood up behind me, hands gripping my hips, but before he could suggest moving, I looked over my shoulder, my long hair falling across one eye, and whispered huskily, “Don’t you dare stop. Fuck me right here like your little bitch. I want it now.”

Ryan didn’t hesitate. He lined up the fat head of his cock against my spit-slick entrance and pushed forward, stretching me open inch by thick inch. I gasped at the burn, the delicious fullness as he sank all the way in until his heavy balls pressed against me. He held still for a moment, letting me adjust, his hands kneading my hips, but then he started moving—long, deep strokes that dragged against every sensitive spot inside me. Since he had already come once, he lasted beautifully, pounding into me steadily, the wet slap of his hips against my jiggling ass filling the cabin. Each thrust made my small cock bounce and leak, my inner muscles fluttering around him as pleasure coiled tighter in my belly. I pushed back to meet him, moaning loudly, telling him how full I felt, how perfect he was stretching me. He reached around once, stroking my tiny shaft for a few teasing pumps, praising how cute and hard it was for him, how much he loved every part of my body exactly like this.

We continued like that for a long, sweaty time, the fire crackling behind us, until my legs started to shake from the intensity. Ryan pulled out with a wet sound, his cock glistening, and I turned, grabbing his hand to lead him toward the thick bearskin rug in front of the fireplace. I pushed him down onto his back, the soft fur warm against his skin, and climbed over him. Straddling his hips, I faced him, my knees planted on either side of his waist, my feet tucked back near his thighs. I reached between us, guiding his cock back to my entrance, and sank down slowly, taking him to the hilt in one smooth glide. My hands braced on his broad chest as I started riding him, rolling my hips in deep circles, then lifting and dropping, my thick ass bouncing against his thighs with every descent. The angle let him hit that sweet spot inside me over and over, and I could feel my own little cock slapping wetly against his stomach, leaving sticky trails. Ryan’s hands roamed everywhere—groping my soft, girlish breasts, pinching the dark nipples, sliding down to squeeze the jiggling flesh of my rear as I moved faster, my long hair swaying wildly around us.

Eventually the need for more grew, and we shifted to the big bed upstairs, the cool sheets a contrast to our heated skin. He laid me on my back, grabbing my ankles and lifting my legs straight up and apart, spreading them wide into a deep V shape while he knelt between my thighs. My chunky ass tilted up off the mattress as he lined up again and slid back inside, the new angle making everything feel impossibly deeper. He held my ankles tight, using them for leverage as he thrust hard and steady, his balls slapping against my darker skin with every plunge. My small cock lay against my soft belly, twitching and leaking, completely untouched as the pressure on my prostate built higher.

We changed again without breaking rhythm, both of us moving so we sat facing each other on the bed, our legs stretched toward one another, arms braced behind us for support. His cock stayed buried deep as we rocked together, the motion grinding him against my inner walls in short, intense strokes that tossed my insides deliciously. I could feel every vein, every throb, and I told him so, my voice shaky with pleasure. Then I shifted forward, sliding my hips between his spread legs, my knees bending so my feet planted flat on the bed outside his hips. We rocked harder like that, my body pressed close, his cock stirring deep inside me with every shared movement.

I lifted my legs, hooking them over his shoulders, my thick ass rising higher off the bed. The position tightened everything, increasing the delicious tension as he thrust and ground in slow circles, the head of his cock rubbing perfectly against my prostate. It was too much; pleasure crashed over me in waves, my inner muscles clamping down around him as I came hard from the stimulation alone. My small cock pulsed untouched, spurting thin ropes across my own smooth belly while I cried out his name, body shaking.

As the aftershocks faded, Ryan moved to sit on the edge of the bed, feet planted on the floor. I turned away from him, backing up until I sat between his spread legs, my back to his chest. I reached behind, guiding him back inside my still-clenching hole, then planted my feet firmly on the floor and started riding. Pressing up with my legs, I lifted and dropped in a steady rhythm, my inner muscles working around his thick shaft, squeezing and milking him with every rise and fall. Ryan groaned into my neck, hands wrapping around to grope my breasts and stroke my spent little cock as I rode faster, determined to pull every last drop from him. His breaths grew ragged, his hips bucking up to meet me, and finally he buried himself deep, spilling hot and thick inside me. I kept working my muscles, drawing out every pulse until he was empty, his load filling me completely.

We collapsed together onto the bed, sweaty and spent, cuddling close under the soft blankets. My head rested on his chest, his arm around my curvy waist, fingers tracing lazy patterns on my smooth skin. The fire downstairs crackled faintly through the open loft, and for a moment everything felt perfect—revenge, pleasure, and the quiet thrill of knowing Tammy was probably still fuming somewhere, clueless about exactly who had taken her place.

Then the banging started. Loud, furious pounding on the cabin door mixed with screaming that cut through the night like a siren. “Ryan! Open this fucking door right now, you piece of shit!” It was her. Took her long enough. I smirked against his skin, my heart racing with dark satisfaction as we scrambled up, grabbing clothes in a hurry—him yanking on jeans and a shirt, me slipping into my tank top and sleep shorts, not bothering with anything else. We hurried downstairs, and I nodded for him to open it.

The door flew open, and there stood Tammy, face twisted in rage, her cheap blonde hair wild, eyes blazing as they landed on us. She took one look at Ryan’s arm still loosely around my waist and lost it. “What the fuck is this? You bring this little freak up here?” Her voice cracked with fury as she pointed at me, stepping inside uninvited. “I knew you were cheating, but with him? That pathetic tranny from our class? Look at you, pretending to be a girl with that tiny little dick hiding in your panties. Disgusting!”

Ryan stepped forward, his voice firm but calm. “Tammy, stop. It’s over. I told you that. I’m in love with her. She’s everything I want—beautiful, kind, and she makes me feel alive. I don’t care about anything else. Her body is perfect just the way it is, and yeah, she’s got a cute little cock, but that doesn’t change how much I love her.”

Tammy’s face went purple. She screamed louder, calling me every name she could think of—freak, slut, shemale whore, tiny-dick wannabe—her words vicious and humiliating, each one aimed to cut deep about my trans body and my small size. I stood there, chin high, my full lips curved in a small, satisfied smile, letting her rage wash over me. It felt so good, watching her unravel, knowing I’d twisted the knife exactly the way I wanted. She didn’t get the satisfaction of seeing me break. Instead, Ryan kept defending me, pulling me closer, until she finally spun on her heel, still shrieking insults, and stormed back into the night, slamming the door behind her. The sound echoed through the cabin like a final, perfect note.

I turned to Ryan, wrapping my arms around his neck, my thick curves pressing against him as I kissed him slow and deep. “She’s gone,” I whispered against his lips, voice full of triumph and warmth. “And I’m right where I belong.” The revenge was complete, sweeter than I’d ever imagined, and as we sank back onto the couch together, the fire warming us once more, I knew this was only the beginning of something real and ours.