A Change in Our Marriage - The Sissy Cuckold

by Sara Desmarais

  Sara picked up a shoe box sized package from the closet, pink, with a white bow on it. Walking back to me, she handed it to me, "Here you go, Julie," she smiled.

  "What is it," I asked.

  "Go ahead and open it and find out, silly."

  I loved presents. I loved getting packages. Hell, who didn't. I should have been more nervous, considering the source. I opened the top carefully, one eye on Sara, one on the box. Seeing what was inside, I reacted in horror and dropped the box. "Sara, what the hell?"

  She giggled, "What? Don't you like it?"

  "Sara," I answered, shocked.

  "I'm sorry, dear, I know. I know. It's the first time you have seen one of those," she laughed, watching me recoil from the box and the most life like dildo I had ever seen. It was flesh colored, veined, and big, very big, considerably bigger than me.

  Grinning, she moved the box over to the box, carefully, almost reverently, taking the large dildo out. "Have you ever seen one of these before?"

  "A dildo?" I asked, confused. Sara had a few dildos.

  "No, silly, a man's cock? It's quite a bit different than that little cockette you have down there. This has some weight to it. It's thick, and long, and hard. Here, take it," she said, holding it out to me.

  I jumped back a little. "Julie, come on, it's just a cock, go ahead, put your hand out."

  "Sara, please," I moaned.

  "Silly girl, so shy," she laughed at me, "I'm sure you have seen a cock before. Right? You are not a virgin, are you?"

  "Sara!"

  "Wait a minute. I'm so sorry, dear. I mean, I just assumed...you being a woman in her early 30's...well...that you have...oh honey, here, we can go slow, just, well, this is what a man has to offer a woman, his long, hard cock. It's nothing to be scared of, sweetie, go on, touch it, it's natural," she said tenderly. "Now, I have to admit, its been quite awhile since I actually had a cock in my hands, but its like riding a bike, so to speak."

  She giggled.

  "I mean, ride a big bike for awhile, and just because you then spend some time on a little bike with training wheels, well, that doesn't mean you forgot how to handle the real thing."

  Again, as always, a shot at me.

  "Go ahead, darling, touch it."

  I tentatively put my hand out, touching the cock, feeling a lifelike vein near the base and the balls.

  "See, nothing to be scared of, is there?"

  I shook my head.

  "Wrap your hand around it, Julie," my wife grinned at me, "go ahead, men love it when you touch them like that. Don't worry, he doesn't bite. And he sure hopes you don't either," she chuckled under her breath.

  I wrapped a hand around the shaft, my nails touching my palm, feeling the veins of the dildo. Sara started pumping it a little and I jumped again.

  "Julie, don't worry, when you touch a man's cock, he is liable to push a little, trying to get just a little more. It's nothing to be afraid of. Now, come over here, sit next to me," she said, sitting, crossing her gartered legs, "I want to show you something."

  As I sat next to her, she pulled me closer to her, our stockings rubbing one another.

  "Here, let me show you this, first," Sara said, taking the plastic cock back. "Well, first things first. This is about eight inches, which is average for a real man's cock. There are some with smaller, of course, but don't worry about those because, well, what woman wants some five inch carrot," she laughed. Five inch carrot. That's what I had.

  "Anyway, you see the veins, along the side, well, that means the man is just bursting hard. And of course, a man's balls, filled with cum, will drop down, swing, see," she said, pointing, "this means, well, he is dying for some attention from you."

  I sat there, mortified by her 'lessons'.

  "You look shocked. You know, let's do a little comparison."

  Kneeling in front of me, Sara positioned the dildo next to my cock. Or cockette. Clitty. Whatever she referred to me as. I looked down, shocked at the difference, my eyes widening.

  "Now, you see, don't you, Julie. You see what I was talking about. Come on, be honest, are you really that surprised? You must have seen a cock before, at least in college, living in the dorm, in the shower? Or at the gym? Obviously, at some point in your life you saw a naked man, his massive cock, even soft, dwarfing what you have. Maybe a big black football player, ripped muscles, walking by you. Right?"

  "Yes, in college" I whispered, embarrassed.

  "Of course you have. And did you look at it? At his cock?"

  I looked down, my eyes fixated on the two dissimilar things in her hands, my tiny cock, and the massive dildo, staring at the differences.

  "Did you stare, honey? Like you are now?"

  I blushed, caught again.

  "Oh baby, it's okay. I know, there is an unwritten rule, a man never stares at another man's cock, does he. Yet you were, staring, at his cock. You could not help it, could you? Like now? Seeing something like that. Were you naked too?"

  "Yes, we were in the shower."

  "Oh, my, so he could see you too. Did he catch you looking at him? No, I mean, staring at him?"

  My face reddened even more. "Yes."

  "Oh, no! Did he get mad at you, darling? Did he think you were gay, and lusting after him?"

  "No, he...he..."

  "Don't tell me," she interrupted, "because I think I know. Let me guess. I bet he caught you staring at his massive cock, started to get angry, and then realized what was going on. He knew you were not lusting after him, not when he saw you naked. He realized that you were staring because he was so big and you were so small, didn't he?"

  I felt the same feeling I felt then. The gut punch pain of embarrassment.

  "What did he do?"

  "He laughed," I whispered, the pain of reliving the moment flooding me, actually causing my own organ to start to soften, further showing the differences between my little cock and the silicone monster in front of me.

  "He laughed," she repeated my words. "Of course he laughed. Why wouldn't he? And did you run out of the shower, scared, terrified, hurt, humiliated."

  I nodded my head.

  She smiled, clearly loving hearing of my shame.

  "Did you ever see him again, in the shower or around campus? Did you try to avoid him? Like a hurt puppy scurrying away from the top dog?"

  "Please, Sara, don't. This isn't funny."

  "Oh, don't be such a sour puss. Of course it's funny. To me, at least, though obviously not to you. But it is important. You know why? Because I married a man who gets off dressing as a woman, and fantasizes about his wife fucking other men. It's important to me, because I want to understand where this comes from. I personally happen to think that when a woman's husband has not given her an orgasm in years, is sitting in front of her dressed like a sissy, and feels like a fucking wimp, she has some right to at least an explanation of where this all comes from." Her words, her stinging words. Matched by the reach of her delicate hand, which had come to rest on my cock. Gently rubbing. She knew...she knew how to make the truth come out and always took advantage.

  "I mean, honestly John," she said, reverting to my real name, "have I not earned that right? Not only did I discover that my husband has some of the most perverted fantasies, but here I am, instead of divorcing you, actually participating in them with you."

  What could I say to that? She was right, she did deserve just about anything she wanted. Of course, I was neglecting to think that she was the one who was pushing all this, not me. I was happy to look at porn, a cuckolding web site or two, even some transvestite stuff. She was the one who was running with this, I was just trying to keep up. I began to wonder whose fantasy we were living here, hers or mine?

  I mean, it's one thing to fantasize about your wife fucking another dude. It's quite another for her to keep throwing it in your face. It may be a bit perverted to slip into your wife's panties once in awhile, and masturbate, but she was the one who pushed me into a bra and stockings, and these damn glue on
tits. I wondered, not for the first time, if she was playing nice to indulge my fantasies, or whether it was her perverted desires we were living out.

  Yes, it scared me, because I think I realized it just might be more of her fun than mine. It scared me because I suddenly worried how far she was going with this.

  "John?"

  "I'm sorry, you...you're right. I...what was the question." Still could not meet her eyes, not while staring at my little cock in her one hand next to the massive monster in her other hand.

  "Did you see him again, around campus?"

  "Just once," I whispered.

  "In the shower again," she smiled in anticipation of my self degrading answer.

  "No, at a frat party."

  She smiled. "Did he laugh at you?"

  "No," I answered, softly.

  "Did he say anything to you?"

  "No."

  "Hey, don't be fucking evasive, dammit, tell me what happened," she laughed, stroking me again, knowing that would spur me on.

  "I...I was with a girl I was dating. He saw us from across the room, waiting in a long line at the keg. He...he marched over to us, smug, a beer in his hand. He came up to her, we could tell he was half drunk. He grabbed her, pulled her to him with his free arm, and started to kiss her."

  "Oh my. What was her name, your date?"

  "Jennifer."

  "And what did Jennifer do?"

  "She...she started to push him away, but he had a good hold on her around the waist. He pulled her closer to him, rubbed his crotch on hers...and...she returned his kiss. They were like that for almost a minute, till they had to breath."

  Sara had a huge grin on her face, still stroking. "And?"

  "He stepped back, handed her the beer, and said something like, 'You don't need to wait in line, baby, just let a man get you your drink,' and walked away."

  "And what did you do? I mean, some guy comes over to your girl, kisses her, and totally dominates you. Did you 'throw down'," she laughed.

  "No. I...I just stood there, speechless, while Jen drank her beer. She wouldn't even let me have some."

  "That was your last date with her, wasn't it?"

  "Yes."

  "Yes, of course. Poor Jen. What was she to do? A prissy white girl from the suburbs, and some big black stud goes all alpha male on her in front of her wimpy date. Her date doesn't even try to stand up to him. She felt that monster cock of his, grinding onto her while he kissed her. Oh, no, I'm not surprised she was done with her bookish wimp of a date. Had you slept with her before?"

  "Yes."

  Sara grinned, "I imagine, suddenly, feeling what was available out there, going back to your dorm room for a night of frustrating sex with her emasculated date was rather unappealing to her."

  I blushed, not having felt so shamed since that night.

  "Well, John, my sweet thing, I certainly understand where your feelings today come from, I really do," she said tenderly. "You see, that's the difference though, between Jennifer and me. Even though I crave this," she squeezed the dildo, "I still love the person who only has this," she squeezed me.

  "Sara," I whispered.

  "But...wait...but, you see, look at a real man's cock, compared to you. Don't you see? Do you understand why I crave the real one?"

  "But, Sara..."

  "No, come here," she let go of me, moved the phallus off my lap, "come down here, next to me."

  I slid off the bed, kneeling next to her.

  "Sweetie, I see you staring at the cock, just like you did years ago. Do you understand? Why a woman craves this? How even though it's big enough to even be a little painful, she still wants it inside her. It's biological. Millions of years of evolution. It's instinct. We know, that even though it may hurt, at a primal level, we understand why this monster is what's best for us. It about procreation. At the most animalistic level."

  "Remember, while a man's sperm is plentiful, a woman's eggs are not. She only has a small window of opportunity to conceive each month, and inside the vagina, the route to the womb, to the ovaries, is a treacherous journey. It's so simple though. This monster will be so far inside a woman, pushing on her cervix, that it's almost a sure thing for millions of sperm to make it to the egg. But baby, with you, someone like you, there is such a smaller chance, that biologically, conception a very risky proposition."

  "So, my tiny husband, deep down inside, in her primordial soul, a woman wants this, not one like yours. Sure, modern life has changed somewhat, and there are other attributes in a spouse beyond just mere passing on of the genes, so women marry and settle down with wimpy men. But don't ever forget, how ever happy they may be with their mouse, they always crave the lion."

  "It's pure biology. Nature made us orgasm with a monster like this inside us, and made us difficult to physically please with something like you have. Nature says to us, 'If you want physical pleasure, you had better find an alpha male.' It's nature's way of guaranteeing the survival of the species. Nature says, 'Wimps need not apply.'"

  A tear was forming in my eye. "Is that what I am? A wimp?"

  "Yes, dear, I'm afraid so. And you have always known that. But you know what? Nature did something for you, too. Nature, wanting the species to continue, hard wired you a certain way. Why do you think there are web sites about cuckolding? Why do so many men fantasize about that? Nature insists it that way. You fantasize about your wife fucking a stud because nature wants you to. So when your wife does it, you won't leave her."

  "A stud, who has no trouble procreating would never put up with his woman fucking around. Why would he? By virtue of his very body, he can easily impregnate a woman. So, a stud would shun a woman who fucked around, he would never let another man's offspring around him. But a wimp, like you, who is lucky enough just to get any woman to partner with him, would easily put up with that, and no matter who fathered the child, that wimp would be there to raise it. And to be honest, nature wants the woman to love who ever will stay and help raise the child. Wimp or not."

  "A wimp wants offspring, but has trouble doing it. A woman wants and needs offspring. So nature hardwired us all to do what's best."

  "Put simply, deep inside, being a wimp, you want me to fuck real men. I crave the fucking a real man gives, even as I love you. Real men take what they want. Everyone is happy."

  "So baby, don't cry. Nature made you like this, and even though you are little sissy, I love you.

  "But,"

  "No buts, sweetie, it's not your fault I crave a real cock like this. Why, just seeing it makes me start to tingle, makes me feel damn hot and horny."

  I was looking at her, the hunger in her eyes. Holy shit, she really did crave it, there was something deeper at work here. Sara was stroking the cock now, and my knees felt weak.

  "I just want to...," she was closer to it now. "Come here, look at it closely." I bent closer. Our faces were inches apart, and mere inches from the phallus, from the swollen balls, from the bulging veins, the bulbous head. It really was quite different than mine.

  "If we were this close to a man, the scent would be overpowering. The pheromones, nature's way of calling women to a cock, would be drifting in our noses. It makes us wetter, opens up our bodies preparing to take it in," she said in a hoarse, desperate voice. Her one hand was still stroking the cock, her eyes half way back in her head. Her other hand slipped over the satin covering my body, and found my quivering thing, intimidated by the monster that came out to play.

  "I just want to," she repeated, opening her mouth, moving closer, tongue out, taking it into her mouth, "taste it, ohmmmmmm," she moaned, giving the silicone monster the beginnings of a blow job, getting it wet, licking, tasting, moaning. But her other hand found me and began to rub at me.

  I was mesmerized by the oral work she was performing on the cock, the slutty words she spoke to it, like it was real, as if it was a man she was moaning to, not a silicone organ.

  "Oh, Julie, oh my god," she slurped.

  She let the cock slip out o
f her mouth, and looked at me, a devilish look possessing her. "You see how bad a woman wants it? Do you understand?"

  "Yes," I moaned, unable to say anything else with her massaging of my clitty.

  "You understand," she snarled, close to terrifying me.

  "Yes, yes," I moaned again.

  "You understand because you feel it, don't you?"

  Between the opposite stimuli of her hand on me and the terrified feeling in my brain, I felt frozen. I was terrified, because I suddenly realized what she was about to say. What scared me is why I knew? Because it was so obvious what she wanted me to do, and I wanted to please her, or worse, because it was what I suddenly wanted, like her.

  "Yessssss."

  "You understand how a woman craves a cock, because you crave it too, Julie." She stroked me. I was breaking down.

  "Sara...please don't," I begged, but she ignored me.

  "You understand Julie, because you want it too."

  I was panting, my body flooding with hormones. The sight of her sucking the cock, the visual appeal went right to the very core of my brain. The small bit of my manhood rebelled, fought a desperate action, trying to hold back the hordes, but it was hopeless. The battle was quickly over, the part of my mind that revolted at the

  homoerotic act Sara demanded, that screamed at me not to do this, was beaten back by the libido flowing from my own neglected cock.

  In all honesty, it was never a fair fight. Sara's feminization of me, the lingerie, easily weakened the walls of my masculinity, so that when the rush of libido hit, my internal resistance quickly was swamped and folded.

  "Open your mouth, Julie," Sara ordered me, "take the cock in your mouth."

  "Sara, please," I moaned, a last gasp of the dying resistance to the homosexual act.

  "Take it," she growled, squeezing my own balls as she moved behind me, her breasts coming to rest on my back, insistently pushing me towards the siren call of the cock.

  "Sara, I...," I said weakly, my mouth open in surrender, the pressure from her body enough to push my mouth, my open mouth, onto the cock.

  Suddenly, the hunger washed over me. Whatever the part of a woman that craves a cock was now running through my body. I'm still not sure how Sara did it, how she overcame my natural resistance, but it was gone, and I tore at the cock like I was starving and this was the only food that would satisfy me.