A Change in Our Marriage - The Sissy Cuckold
Page 29
"OHHHHGGGGMMMFFFF." I was shaking like crazy.
"You practiced on the dildo, sissy, you know what I'm talking about, right?"
That shamed me totally. I did know. What a mouth full of plastic cock was like, anyway.
"You know what," she whispered, "it is the same thing with a real cock. You'll find out eventually," she laughed in my ears, "then you can tell me if a real cock feels the same as the dildo."
I still was not sure how I felt about her now constant taunting about sucking cock. Well, my mind did not know how to feel, the conflict, sissy versus man, husband versus slut, and bi-sexual teases.
But my little cock knew. With every taunt, day after day, it grew harder and harder.
"Yes, Julie," she whispered again, "when you get a real man's cock in your mouth, I want you to tell me if it tastes better than the strap on."
I was in agony. The teasing about a real cock made me more and more excited. My god, did I really want to suck a cock? Did I? My own clitty certainly said yes.
But what did that make me? I was Sara's husband, wasn't I? Why did a husband want to suck cock? That shouldn't excite me, that should revolt me.
"Tell me how it feels, throbbing in your mouth. That's the real difference between a cock like Steve's and a dildo. A real cock is warm and throbbing and leaks cum. That's what you will be tasting Julie. When I force you to your knees, Julie, and you open your mouth for the first time."
Silence. I hurt so bad, the pain was almost unbearable. My cock, no, my clit, was throbbing now, the lack of release almost beyond my ability to take. I concentrated on her pussy, on the taste and smell of her panties, sucking and sniffing to pacify myself.
I actually drifted off to sleep, though I don't know for how long, time meant nothing to me. All there was for me was Sara's taste and scent, the images of her fucking and sucking Steve, the terror at my own desires for cock.
"Julie. Julie," Sara called out to me, actually stirring me from my sleep. "Oh, Julie, he fucks sooooo good," she crooned. "It was amazing in the club, but oh my, in his house, in his bedroom, when he takes his time. I...I've never been so full."
I knew she recorded this ahead of time, but that didn't change her description of the fucking she was receiving from him. But did it?
Suddenly I felt something graze against my straining cock. Fingernails. Sara? Sara!
Was she here?
"He had me on my stomach. He was on top of me."
I looked around the room. Was she here? Oh, god, Sara.
"His cock," she stopped and I felt a finger flick my clitty, hard. I moaned, half pain, half pleasure, dying for her touch.
"His cock" -- her voice lowered -- "buried in my pussy. He was rocking, pushing into me, pausing at the end of each thrust, his cock farther into me than I've ever felt anything inside me."
Her fingernail, or someone's fingernail, gently went up my shaft.
"Your little clitty really is so much smaller." She took it in her hand, the touch of skin almost making me cum, but only for a second, because she squeezed, harder and harder, making me yelp into the panty gag.
"Every time he paused, cock buried to the hilt inside me, I had a mini orgasm. Over and over, he pushed me to the edge, and just slightly over it, the friction of his cock thrilling me as I've never been thrilled before."
She released me cock, I gasped in pain. I felt her presence more now, next to me. Sara terrified me, I've never loved her or anyone so much. I felt hands on my hair, moving the headphones away. Still blindfolded, gagged, and panties on my face, her pussy was still my world.
"The last time," her voice said, live, next to my head, whispering into my ear, "the last thrust, when he came, he pushed further into me still, like he'd held something back before.
"I was shaking, lover, my pussy so full it hurt, and as his cum exploded inside me, it touched me all over. Oh, god, the orgasm was more powerful than any before. I....," her voice broke, shook, "I almost passed out I was so dizzy."
Again she took hold of my cock, squeezing it.
"Oh, baby, you are trembling. Do you want to cum, sissy?"
I moaned...mumbled...yes, yes, oh yes.
"I know, lover, I know. But you know there is something you have to do, don't you?"
Did I know? I knew all night. Of course I knew.
"You are going to worship my pussy, aren't you? Lick it and suck it and taste it. Nasty, lover, its all nasty, now, matted with my juices. And his cum. All that cum, lover, all that cum all over, inside me, on me. You are going to eat it, sissy, all of it, aren't you? Aren't you?"
The tiny part of my brain revolted. Another part exploded with pleasure.
"But you have to ask yourself, sissy. How nasty am I?"
She loosened her grip on my clitty so it was gently holding my cock. I froze. Nasty? She sensed it.
"Yes, slut, how nasty am I? You'll eat Steve's cum from my pussy, slut, you know that. But nasty has to do with when. Now, desperate to cum, your libido is high, and you will do anything, won't you? Even suck a man's cum from my pussy. Anything, just to cum. But what about after you do, sissy? What if you cum now," she laughed, stroking my cock.
"Gggmemffff."
"If you cum now, before, sissy, you will have no libido. Will sucking my pussy still excite you? Will eating a man's cum from my pussy be so exciting then? Either way, you are worshipping, but what about after?"
That really did send terror through me. I knew she was right. If she made me cum, I'd lose any sexual energy. Right now it excited me, but after, it would revolt me. Oh, Sara, please, no.
She laughed. "I know, lover, you want it now, don't you. You want that cum now. Tell me, lover, tell me."
I felt her move the panty gag from my mouth.
"Beg me, sissy," she commanded.
I exhaled quickly, words jumbled in my brain. "Please, Sara, please, let me do it now, please."
"Do what, sissy," she asked, stroking my little cock, pushing me closer. No, no!
"Eat you, Sara, please, stop, let me eat you now," I begged, terrified I'd cum soon.
"That's not all, sissy, that's not all you want, is it," she moaned, continuing her stroking.
"No, no," I yelled, meaning I wanted more and wanted her to stop. "Sara, please, stop, let me suck you, let me...let me eat it...the cum," I yelped, "let me eat Steve's cum from you."
And with that, I became the ultimate sissy cuckold. There it was, I was begging to suck her lover's cum. Was there any lower I could go? Perhaps in the future, yes, and I'm sure I'd go there, with Sara of course.
"Oh, Julie, there is so much of it," she laughed. I felt her on the bed, removing my blindfold, moving back as my eyes adjusted to the light. Sara peeled the dress over her head, down to her lingerie. My eyes saw her hair, mussed, her lipstick gone, her makeup disheveled, her eyes sparkled. She looked fucked.
My eyes followed her hands to her panties, the sheer cream panties.
"They held most of it in, lover," she laughed. "I'll save them though. I think my panties, soaked with my juices and my lover's cum will make a nice gag for you in the future, don't you think."
She climbed back onto the bed, over my head, her legs straddling my head, facing my own cock.
"Like what you see, Julie," she asked, hands on her own pussy. The trim hair was matted, dried fluids coated her skin, the folds of her pussy. "That's just what leaked out, sissy, there is much more inside. Now beg for it, lover."
"Sara," I groaned, "please, Sara, let me suck your pussy. Please, let me taste your lover's cum."
"I still should make you cum first," she laughed.
"Please, no, don't let me cum, let me eat his cum first," I begged. I heard my own words, my own plea to my wife. I cringed at them, how perverse they were, how revolting.
How true.
By simply lowering herself, suddenly her pussy was smothering my face and mouth. The smell and taste were remarkable. I'd spent hours sucking and smelling her. This was different. She was the
re, but so was he.
The smell of cum.
The taste of cum.
It was all over my wife's pussy.
There was no doubt now. Before when she'd teased me, there was doubt. I knew now it was a tease. Except in the limo, she'd teased me. This was serious. She'd fucked him, no doubt. And she'd loved it. And so did I.
I again pictured them lying there. Sara, on her stomach, Steve on top of her, his thick cock entering her, pleasing her. Sara loving it, if only because of how it made me feel. Not just her, but me too.
I tasted the first real glob from inside her. Cum, dripping from her pussy into my mouth. I sucked it greedily. Sara rode my face like she was riding a wild animal, for that is what I was, an animal, thrashing in my bondage, my wife above me feeding me, making me worship her.
My face was numb, her juices coating all over me, when she climbed off me. Cum and pussy was all over me, a part of me.
My head was spinning, and I didn't notice she'd moved, what she'd done, that her soaked pussy was now hovering over my own little cock. She lowered herself onto me in one swift motion, before I'd even had a chance to comprehend.
"Oh, Julie, your clit really is so tiny, compared to a man," she moaned.
"SARA!"
"I fucked him cause I love you, slut," she moaned.
"Ohhhh."
"I fucked him cause you want it, slut."
"Yes," I gasped, breath caught in my throat. I was now swept away by my own orgasm, my own cum mixing into Sara.
As I caught my breath, Sara slowly climbed off me, reached over the bed, picked up her soiled but discarded panties.
Still bound, I watched her, an animal ready to die. She took the panties, sheer crotch up, wiped her pussy, soaked it really. "Something else for you to suck on when I gag you, sissy," she laughed.
I shuddered, libido gone, the thought of cum, hers, Steve's, mine, disgusting me.
But I knew too, even like this, I'd forever be Sara's slave.
Part 10
"What's wrong, love?" Sara asked.
"Nothing," I snapped, concentrating on my work, something sometimes hard to do when I worked from home and Sara was also home. Of course, my growing tits and my long hair made going into the office difficult to do. Not impossible, but it was becoming...no...I was becoming very self conscious about that, so I went in only a couple of times a week. Of course, I was Julie at home.
"Hmm. Don't you feel pretty today?"
Dressed in classic lingerie, heels, a skirt suit, feeling the swell of the breasts growing from my hormones, I couldn't help but feel pretty. But this only depressed me more.
It had been about two weeks since her date with Steve, and there was something wrong, of course. I had no idea what it was, so I could not tell her. How can you explain what you don't understand. But Sara always knew better, always was one step ahead of me, always anticipated me.
"Julie, come with me," she said abruptly, picking up her purse, phone and keys.
"Sara, where are you going? I have work to do, honey."
"This is more important, let's go."
I started to protest, but the words caught in my throat, and instead I followed her order, shut down my computer, and silently followed her to the garage.
"Where are we going?"
"Something I should have done earlier."
"What?"
"I should have done this earlier this week."
She didn't answer my question.
And I didn't think of the answer until we were closer.
"Dr. Nelson," I gasped.
"Yes, Julie. I understand that you are probably confused again, that you have mixed feelings. We need to address them. I shouldn't have assumed that simply talking about them in the past was enough. This is a process, not an event."
"What are you talking about," I asked as we pulled into the parking lot.
"Listen, you have gone through this before. The guilt, the confusion. I thought that we'd put it behind us, but Susan said that it was something that would come up again and again, especially as we did more things. I suppose it was natural for you to feel this after I went out with Steve."
I was quickly drawn back to that night. The bondage, the audible taunts, the begging to eat Steve's cum from her pussy. It was so exciting then, so humiliating then and now, but painful now. Sara was right, I'd been in inner torment for two weeks.
Sara and I walked into Dr. Nelson's suite. I experienced a sense of dread. My last visit here had been, well, quite unexpected, to say the least. We were quickly shown into Dr. Nelson's well apportioned office. I was thankful it was not the exam room, but that was short lived.
"Sara, how wonderful to see you. Julie, you too. You aren't scheduled for a hormone level check for another few weeks -- what's up?"
"Susan," Sara sighed, "you were right, it has been difficult for her."
"Sara, I told you, didn't I? Well, I always knew better," Dr. Nelson said, adopting an air of superiority, crossing her arms, glaring at Sara.
"I know, Susan, I know, but I thought she was she was stronger, that she wanted this too..."
"Sara, don't worry. Listen, since she's here, why don't I have her see the nurse, to see how the hormones are coming? You can fill me in, then we'll all talk, okay?"
The blood quickly drained from my face. The nurse? Last time that involved bondage and a milking with a dildo. I was uncomfortable with my life at the present moment, and picturing that big nurse from my last visit made me shake. But before I could voice a peep of protest, Dr. Nelson's glare intervened.
"Yes Ma'am," I said. She was a woman I never wanted to cross. I might get away with it with Sara, but not this doctor bitch.
A nurse stepped into the room as if she'd been listening in, a different one than before, and before I could think of anything else to say to Sara, I was led down the hall into an exam room.
"Why don't you get undressed, just down to your underwear for now," the nurse asked me. Where Dr. Nelson's last nurse was big, fat, even ugly, this one was pretty, dressed in light blue scrubs that stretched across her breasts, showing off her hair. Fuck, I was attracted to her, and quickly worried about an erection that would certainly not be welcome. I was in a sulky mood, and I didn't want anyone thinking I
was happy with my life when I'd rather pout.
I anticipated a tightening in my panties, and started to say something, to ask not to get undressed, but realized nothing was happening. That threw me, confused me. I felt a flush of excitement color my cheeks, the blood running through my body, everywhere. Everywhere but in my panties.
Red faced again, I took off my suit jacket, hung it on a hook, stepped out of my skirt, undid my blouse, took off my black slip. I was again left, of course, in classic lingerie again in the doctor's office. Black satin six strap garter belt, matching bra and panties, black stockings, heels.
"Heels too, please," the nurse said.
I did as ordered, and was subject to the usual height and weight check and vital sign check.
"Five nine, one forty. Your figure is coming along very nice."
Well, there was that. Dressed like this, even I had trouble picturing myself as a male.
"Your blood pressure is just a tad off, but the hormones often play havoc. For awhile. You've been on them for a bit now, so it should level off soon."
"Okay."
"You know, I'm sure you've heard this before, but you have beautiful taste in lingerie, sweetie. I've seen some girls like you that are pure trash, but you are so elegant."
I blushed deeply.
"Seriously, your wife is very lucky," she smiled. "Okay, up on the table so we can finish the exam."
I was almost trembling. No I was trembling, remembering my last time on the table, strapped down, half raped while I was milked.
"Hey, hey, don't worry, honey, this won't be like last time, really, Dr. Nelson doesn't want you all depressed right now." Apparently she understood the sometimes slight depression that comes after a ma
le orgasm.
After I was on my back, feet in the stirrups, she looked down at me. "I'm sorry, can you undo your bra and pull your panties off, please."
I stood up again, hesitant to pull down my panties. I was so fucking excited, unable to help it, afraid of an erection but so utterly flaccid. The nurse, sweet, tender, even flirting, was driving me wild, yet I had no response in my panties.
The nurse pressed on my stomach, probed me here and there, felt my thighs, moved her hands onto my stockings.
"Silk? No, no, nylon," she asked.
"Nylon."
"Yes, but old fashioned nylon. My husband would love it if I wore lingerie like this. Bet your spouse loves it, having a wife like you, a classy woman around the house. Where do you shop? Maybe I'll pick something up like this for a special treat for him. You know how men love a woman in lingerie, right?" She smiled a girl talk smile.
"Um, Secrets in Lace, an on line store." She knew I was married to a woman, right? I wasn't dressing to please a man.
She moved her hand back to my waist, up the side of my stomach. "Your waist is coming along nicely too, the hormones shaping you a bit softer. Thin, but curves too. A great waist for a garter belt. And your breasts are really coming along even better. Let me see," she said, cupping them in her hands, her skin on my skin. "A B cup, I'm sure. You may not even need implants," she said, massaging them. "Not going to hide these much longer. You'll want to show them off, I bet."
She continued her massage of my breasts. My eyes rolled back into my head. Her touch was heavenly.
"This is one of my favorite parts of my job, and it's necessary too. Move the blood around the growing breast tissue. The same day-after- day of seeing our regular patients is well made up by a patient like you, Julie. Feel good? I bet. Yes, your wife is very lucky."
The nurse took out a pair of latex exam gloves, snapped them on, and resumed her massage of my breasts. She left one hand on one of my breasts, playfully teasing my nipple, while her other hand moved to my crotch. She took my cock, or clitty, in her hand, and massaged it.
"Its so little, so cute," she giggled. "Does your wife call it a clit or a clitty?"
I nodded, eyes again rolling back into my head.