A Change in Our Marriage - The Sissy Cuckold

Home > Other > A Change in Our Marriage - The Sissy Cuckold > Page 25
A Change in Our Marriage - The Sissy Cuckold Page 25

by Sara Desmarais


  She stood up, cleared her cup from the table. "By the way, next Saturday, I'm going on a date with Steve. I know you couldn't set it up, that's okay, but I can't wait anymore. Have a good day at the office." She smiled, walking out to the garage, leaving me shocked and frustrated, my head spinning!

  Well, as you might imagine, my meeting with Mr. Olsen was terrible; I was a nervous wreck, jumpy, scared, sexually confused, and yes, even humiliated.

  Naturally, he had no idea why. He had no idea that when he came into the conference room I looked at him and could only picture Sara fucking him. I looked at him like he'd fucked my wife, when of course he hadn't.

  "Are you okay, John?" he asked me when he sat down on the couch across from me, a puzzled look on his face.

  In my mind, I pictured him unzipping his pants, taking out a sausage of a cock, wet, slick, sticky, the light shining off it, off the slick coating. "That's right, sissy, that's your wife all over me," he would say.

  "Um, yes, sir, I'm fine." He arranged some papers on the table in front of him.

  "These are excellent projections, John, we are lucky to have you in-house," he said, referring to my work. He knew that it would have cost them a fortune to hire an outside consultant to put that together.

  "Thank you, Mr. Olsen," I said, looking over the papers, to his crotch.

  "I wondered why you had your wife bring them to me, but hey, with delivery service like that, wow," he said in my mind.

  "Are you sure you are okay, you look a little under the weather."

  He was probably Sara's type, too. Tall, strong, fit. I'm sure he was not under endowed like the other person in this office. I'm sure he wasn't wearing sexy lingerie under his suit.

  "Is it hard," he asked me.

  My brain snapped around. I was staring at his crotch when he said that, not listening, thinking of his hard cock in Sara. Hard? Hard?

  "Is it hard, the projection."

  "Oh, um, yes Sir, that's solid," I choked on the last word.

  "Do you need to clean it up?"

  Oh my god!

  "Clean it up," I said, my mouth full of cotton, thinking of kneeling in front of him, taking his cock in my mouth, tasting Sara on him.

  "Or can we send it to marketing as is?"

  "It's good," I said, trying not to shake.

  "Yes, I suppose it does look good, doesn't it?"

  I was still looking over the report to his crotch. "Yes," I answered, not knowing if I was referring to the report or to his crotch. Damn Sara. Even somewhere else, she was fucking with my mind.

  "Well, let's get it out and shove it down their throats, those cock suckers deserve it," he sat back, laughing.

  The room was spinning. His stupid crude joke was like a punch to my gut. Or a punch to my crotch.

  Cock suckers.

  Throat.

  That's exactly what I was thinking. But not some other division on the West Coast. I was thinking of sucking his cock. Having it shoved down my throat.

  "Okay, drop this off with Nancy, and get it out the door. Good job," he said, standing, dismissing me.

  Cock. That's all that was on my mind.

  I left his office, gave the report to his secretary and scurried back to my office, locking the door behind me. Damn Sara for doing this to me. I got Sara's dildo out of my briefcase, it burned my hands. Damn! I put it on the couch in my office, got on my knees in front of it.

  In my mind, it was not Sara's cock right now. It was Mr. Olsen's. It was the big cock that had just been inside my wife, fucking her. And all I wanted to do was suck it. To clean it off. All I wanted to do at that very moment was suck cock. It terrified me, but I did it, like a hungry beast, I attacked it.

  Some part of me wanted it, the dildo, Sara's cock. But I knew another part of me imagined it was more than that, that it was a real cock, Mr. Olsen's cock, Steve's cock, a man's cock.

  When I got home that night, Sara was there, at the kitchen table, waiting for me. "How was it," she asked, as soon as I walked in.

  "Your meeting. How was it? Did you picture yourself sucking his cock, Julie?" She flashed an evil smile.

  "Please Sara," I said, suddenly embarrassed by the question.

  "Sissy," she giggled, "its okay. I mean, did you imagine his big cock, covered by my scent, fresh from fucking me," she pushed, "full of cum, mixed, his and mine?"

  My knees felt weak.

  "Did you, Julie? You said it before, 'I want to suck cock.' Isn't that what you wanted when you were with Mr. Olsen?"

  Her words stung me. The fear inside me was the confrontation of my own desires. I was afraid that she was right, that part of me did want that. Unfortunately, another part of me revolted at the thought.

  "Didn't you look at Steve's cock? Didn't you imagine, even a little, what it would be like?"

  I bit my lip and realized my mouth was watering.

  "No, Sara."

  "You're lying, Julie. Don't ever lie to me," she scolded me.

  "But Sara, I...I'm not..."

  "Gay? Isn't that what you fear? Of course you're not gay, for crying out loud. I don't think we could ever be in love like we are if you were. But that's not the point. You want to be married to a woman, to me, honey, I know that, I'm eternally grateful for that, but...but...the point is, that has nothing to do with certain kinky desires you have."

  "But, you're twisting it around."

  "No, Julie, I'm helping you realize, no, confront, the sexual urges you have. You are a submissive. You are a crossdresser. Do you deny these?"

  "No," I admitted, knowing that was dead on the mark true.

  "Julie, I know most crossdressers are straight. But I also know that many of them, especially the submissive ones, find a huge sexual thrill in being feminized and submissive. What is more feminine and submissive then dressing in sexy lingerie and kneeling before a man? Anything?"

  "I don't know," I mumbled.

  "Are you afraid to admit it then? Is that it? Afraid what I'd think? Fuck, lover, do you know how wet it makes me just thinking about you doing that? Not just the act, but the submission. Submitting to me, to a man," her voice trailed off.

  "Come here, Julie," she said, scooting to the edge of her chair, spreading her legs slightly, "I need to feel your mouth."

  I was actually surprised; she was on fire, clearly driven to sexual excitement by her own thoughts of my day.

  When I got on my knees, she pulled my head to her, between her legs, under her skirt. I realized she was not wearing panties, her pussy was there, open to me. "Imagine, cuckold, you could have sucked my lover's cock this afternoon, and come home to clean his cum out of me this evening," she said holding my face against her pussy, rubbing on my lips and nose.

  "My cum from him, his cum from me," she moaned when my tongue darted from my mouth.

  "Oh, Julie, I'm picturing you, in your pretty lingerie, on your knees...ohhh...a man's cock filling your mouth..." She was shaking now, an orgasm washing over her body, quickly, faster than usual. "I want to see it so bad, Julie, my sissy cuckold sucking her first real cock!"

  She clenched her legs together, trapping my head, pulled my face tight against her pussy, smothering me, shaking, convulsing. She...she was right. She wanted this. She actually got off on it, picturing me doing that. I felt light headed, a need for air, but all I had was the taste of Sara, a seal of pussy around my face.

  Finally, she released her grip on me, pushed me backwards. I was dizzy, gulped down air, watched her, still convulsing, the orgasm still in her, all over her. It scared me and thrilled me!

  Sara got off on the thought of me sucking cock. She got off like I'd never seen her get off before. Was this really going that far?

  "Sara, I can't..."

  "Oh, you can, lover, you can. And you will. But all in good time, sissy," she moaned, eyes closed. "All in good time. By the way, I went shopping at lunch today. Things for my date on Saturday," she smiled at me, mentally slapping at my mind and my groin.

  "Oh,
" I mumbled, trying to hide my humiliation, my jealousy and my excitement all at the same time.

  "Yes, I needed a new dress...and a few other things," she said, watching me. "That's okay, isn't it?"

  "That you went shopping?"

  "That I'm going out with Steve."

  I didn't respond.

  "I mean, it's natural, right?"

  "Natural," I asked, stunned. As exciting as it was, it was most certainly not natural for a married woman to date like this.

  "Sure, I mean, every woman wants a new dress for a first date, wouldn't you? I'm sure you will."

  "But..."

  "You'll want to impress your date, right?"

  Date? Date!

  "Well, I know I'll want to impress him, lover."

  "My date," I shuddered.

  "All in good time," she smiled, standing up, straightening her clothes.

  I know Sara sensed my deeply conflicted desires, my internal conflict, male versus female, dominant versus submissive, husband versus sissy. She sensed them and knew exactly how to make sure the "right" side won. She walked over to me, rested her hand on my crotch, softly taking hold of my little cock through the wool of my suit pants, feeling the satin of my panties.

  "It is okay, isn't it...Julie...you still want your wife to fuck a real man, don't you...Julie? You know that your sissy cock is not good enough for me, right...Julie?" She paused right before she said my female name, slightly squeezing my crotch.

  "You know I'd rather play with your growing breasts," she moved her other hand to my chest, massaging my more sensitive chest, "than play with your shrinking clitty...Julie."

  My knees were buckling.

  "Right...Julie. You want me to have real cock, don't you...Julie. You want a man to satisfy me...Julie. Tell me...Julie," she moved her head to my neck, nuzzled it. You've always wanted a real man to fuck me...Julie," she licked my ear, "cumming inside me...Julie..."

  My chest pounded.

  "You know that's what you need, Julie..."

  "Yes, Sara, yes, yes" I said, close to collapsing on the floor.

  She giggled, moved her hands. "I thought so," she said and walked out of the kitchen, leaving me breathing, tired, and shaking.

  "The packages are in the trunk," she called from the hallway, "be a good girl and unload them for Mistress."

  And so it was, I brought into the house, into our bedroom, a dress bag, several small boxes from an upscale lingerie boutique, and a plain brown box, the very things my wife, my mistress would use to torment me.

  Friday was a terrible day for me, full of anticipation, lack of concentration, and general anxiety, of course mixed with erotic hell. Needless to say, I didn't get much done at the office on Friday. Remember, I'd seen Steve fuck Sara, and that vivid mental picture was in my mind all day. How smart is Sara? Smart enough to put the chastity cage on me so I didn't masturbate like crazy all day at work. Smart enough to know how sexually frustrated I was all day Friday.

  When she put the cage on me, she told me. "I don't want you beating off fifty times before tomorrow. I want you frustrated, lover, frustrated like I am when I can't get relief from my spouse."

  She was also smart enough to do something to torment me Friday night.

  After dinner Friday, she asked me, if I was "sore down there."

  "Dammit Sara, you knew I'd be on edge all day. I couldn't get hard, I couldn't stop thinking about tomorrow, it was terrible."

  "I'm sorry, lover," she laughed, not sorry at all.

  "Seriously, Sara, it hurts. All day. And I'm sure it will all night, too."

  "Well, we can't have that, can we? Come on, let's go upstairs, love," she said, getting up from the table, motioning me to follow her.

  In the bedroom, she told me to undress down to my garter belt, stockings and bra, lose the rest of my clothes, no panties for me. I smiled.

  "On the bed," she motioned me, bringing a smile to my face. Yea like I should have smiled. "Hands over your head." Oh, something like this, hmm? We'd played like this before, or so I thought. Naturally, Sara got her leather cuffs from her dresser and cuffed my hands to the headboard, over my head. "Oh my, it does look painful," Sara said, picking up my chastity caged cock. "We really do need to do something about this, don't we."

  I almost giggled. "Yes, Sara, please."

  "Well, you asked," she said, a hint of...evil...in her voice? Maybe a laugh. Sara, sweet Sara, always ahead of me. "I need to get something, I'll be back in a minute."

  Two. And three. Five. Ten. Fifteen. Finally, fifteen minutes went by. Fifteen minutes of a swollen "clit" pinched in my chastity cage. Fifteen minutes of sexual edge. Fifteen minutes of a dull pain in my groin, growing every minute as I tried to think non-sexual thoughts, but succeeded only in getting harder and harder, more painful and more painful.

  "Dammit Sara, what took so..." my voice trailed off when I saw her enter the room. She was not she. Well, it was Sara, but not Sara. Masquerading again, role playing.

  "The doctor asked me to finish with you," she said, a hint of accent in her voice.

  "Long..." Sara was dressed...as a nurse. Not like the nurse from Dr. Nelson's office, pug, scrubbed, even ugly, but like a...a fantasy nurse. Red wig, short white dress, a hint of stocking top and garter strap. Heels, heels, heels. Chest popping out of her dress. Holy shit.

  "Miss...are you okay," she asked me in the accented voice.

  "I...I..."

  "Don't worry dear, we'll take care of you," she said. She was carrying some sort of tray, a white cloth over it, covering something. What was she doing?

  "Sara...um...Nurse...what...what do you mean?" Knowing Sara, it was always best to play along with her games. She hadn't led me astray yet.

  "The pain...in your..." she pointed to my aching cock trapped in the cage, "cage. Dr. Nelson prescribed a treatment."

  I got a wide smile on my face. Hmm...a hand job or a blow job even, from a sexy nurse. "Why nurse, I'm flattered," I smiled at her, almost growling.

  She smiled back at me. "Well, we will see after your treatment is done." She walked over to me, eyeing the cage, got to the edge of the bed, bent down, took the cage in her hands.

  "The cage looks about the right size. A small, I assume. Yes, you wouldn't need anything bigger than that, not for a sissy thing like this," she teased me, "which of course is why your wife came here in the first place." Bent over, I could see right down her dress, her breasts and bra almost spilling out.

  "Oh, I can tell the pressure is squeezing, isn't it," she asked, her fingers grasping me through the cage. "Are you ready to get started with the procedure," she asked.

  "Yes, yes," I gasped, a bit loud.

  "Shhh, sissy, there are other patients here today. My goodness, you sissies are all the same. Well no matter, we can work around that." She walked over to the tray, uncovered it. I tried to see what she was doing, but the top of the dresser is higher than the bed and I couldn't quite see.

  "Just a little something to keep the bubbles in the champagne, so to speak," she said, moving up towards my head.

  "What...what is that," I asked, my eyes suddenly wide open.

  "Oh, this? Just something to make sure you don't disturb the other patients, sissy," she laughed.

  "No, I'm not going to," I said, and shut my mouth. She had a black thing in her hand, a gag. I realized that there was something obtruding from it. Phallic like.

  "Sissy, you'd better open up," she scolded me. "Do I need to tell your wife you were not cooperating? Or call in some orderlies? Those men love holding down a sissy like you while I'm doing the treatment. Accidentally rubbing their crotches on you. Rather have that?"

  I opened my mouth. "Good girl," she said, sticking the thick four inch penis gag into my mouth, and then buckling it behind my head. "Might as well get used to that feeling," she laughed, "I'm sure your wife has more of that planned for you."

  She walked back over to the tray, took something off and came back. In her hand was a long, thin...dildo,
I guess, and some lubricant. I quickly shook my head no, now realizing what she was going to do, remembering the incident at Dr. Nelson's. She wasn't going to give me a hand job, or a blow job. She was going to milk me. My eyes went wide...this isn't what I'd hoped for.

  "You sissies are all the same, I'm telling you. All thinking that they are going to get a blow job from a nurse. In your fantasies, maybe, but not in this doctor's office. Dr. Nelson knows how to take care of this kind of thing. As if any nurse wants to give a sissy a blow job. Honestly."

  I mumbled into the gag.

  "Turn over, on your knees, head down," she ordered me, getting me onto my knees, hands cuffed over my head still, gagged."

  As I struggled to turn from my back to my stomach, she continued to talk. "Your wife was right, we can't have that pressure in that chastity cage for too much longer. And, I understand she has a date tomorrow night, her first real date, so I don't imagine you will be out of this cage soon, so...well, Dr. Nelson prescribed a milking when your wife called to talk to her. You know, a good draining of your cum, but without orgasm and a loss of libido. Really a great thing for a cuckold before a date."

  I jumped when I felt a cold liquid on my ass; lubrication, I presumed. Then the phallic invader pressed behind me, poised just before the point of entry, and slowly pushed into my ass, doing nothing more than causing my already swollen cock to press harder on the sides of the cage as she pushed more of it into me.

  "Oh, yes, that's it, relax and let it all fill inside you."

  "Gggmmefff," I moaned into my gag as the dildo found something inside me, the same spot that the nurse at Dr. Nelson's found before.

  "Oh, my sissy, yes, mmmm, that gag tastes good, doesn't it? Nothing quite like a mouth full of cock, is there? Enjoy the taste, well, as best you can, anyway, being plastic and all. I'm sure you'd much rather have the real thing."

  "Mmmmfff."

  "I know, sweetie, stuck with a plastic cock, when all you want is real flesh. Maybe I should go get an orderly, would you like that?" She turned and took a step towards the door. A sudden terror shot through me. She didn't. She couldn't have. What if...what if she brought a man home? Oh, shit, was...was there a man here? Was a man in scrubs going to walk through that door?

 

‹ Prev