Alamo Preacher

More of this. I'm enjoying writing it. Enjoying comments even more.

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She’d promised to let me watch. Could I do that? In the hotel, on the webcam, it had been different. Steve hadn’t known he was being watched. I hadn’t really had much choice. Maybe I didn’t now either. But could I do that? Watch my wife be fucked by another man? Could I take the shame, his mocking, his disgust? What would that make me? Not just a sissy, not just a voyeur, but someone who enjoyed being made little of, someone with such low self esteem that he could actually enjoy seeing his wife be taken by another man.

Who was I kidding, I scolded myself. I was already all that, and had been for a very long time, long before Heather had known of my secret desires. This reality was just the conclusion of my real self being pulled out into the open, and Heather’s eager embracing of my submissive nature.

In my minds eye, I could so easily picture the sight I had so often vividly imagined. Heather, reclining on the bed, her legs spread wide, her face just beginning to lose the flush of her orgasm, her body shining with sweat, her hair damp and lank. Her pussy lips, still gaping a little, a drooling trail of come beginning the dribble from the folds down to her asshole. Her face, smiling benignly, exhausted. Her finger, gently beckoning to me.

The thought was electric. Worth anything. I would overcome any shame to have it, to be there when it became reality. My hand had moved involountarily to my skirt, pressed against the bulge in my pantyhose. I snatched it away. Trembling I returned downstairs to check on the dinner.

I did not have much else to do but wait. I poured myself a glass of wine and wandered back upstairs. I set it down and unpacked my new clothes. They were lovely. Practical but elegant. I put them away and strolled back down again to the front room and the computer.

My files, the porn, my stories all seemed rather passe and juvenile now. I began perusing websites, bulletin boards. I searched for makeup tips for crossdressers, online clothing stores, and found myself drifting towards the transgender sites. Did hormones work I wondered. Was it that simple? Could you take a pill? Pills? And become more femine? How long did it take? Could it really be that simple?

As I read and clicked the time passed. It had grown dark outside. I got up and turned down the heat on the meal. If they weren’t home soon it would spoil. The phone rang and I hurried to answer.

Immediately I heard noise in the background. Too loud for a restraunt. A bar? A club?

“Hi babe.” Said Heather. “Me and Brad ... Stop it Brad ...” She laughed. “... Me and Brad went on somewhere to eat, so there’s no need for dinner.”

I could hear a voice, his voice, not the words, just a deep voice talking over her.

“You there? Honey?” She asked.

“Yes. Yes I’m here.”

She laughed again at something Brad said, or did.

“So, sorry.” She said, without much feeling. “Hope you didn’t go to too much trouble. You should go ahead and eat yourself, okay?”

“Okay. I will.” I said quietly. She wasn’t listening, she was laughing again.

“So. We’ll be home soon. Okay? Okay?”

“Okay.”

She laughed again.

“I’d say don’t wait up, but I know you will, right? Right?”

“Yeah. Okay. Soon?” I asked.

She paused before answering, then real emotion entering her voice for the first time - “Yeah. Soon honey.” She answered, her voice, hard, meaningful. And then she hung up.

I returned to the kitchen, feeling numb. I made myself up a plate and sat to eat with little appetite. My mind still blank, I cleaned up, feeling nothing. I tried hard not to think of them together.

When I finished clearing up, an hour had passed, I sat again before the computer. I got out my credit card.

It was midnight before they returned. I was idly flicking through old stories I had written when I heard the key turn in the lock, followed by voices. I turned off the screen and stepped timidly into the hall.

heather entered first, laughing and stumbling hrough the hall door. She looked fabulous, glamorous, happy. her eyes Her eyes caught mine as saw her new boyfriend follow her into our house. He was tall, six foot one, and quite broad shouldered. Tanned and good looking, but more cute than rugged. He was smiling and laughing as he fumbled with relocking the door.

‘He’s nervous too.’ I thought. ‘Or drunk. Perhaps a little of both.

“Hi Honey. We’re home.” sang Heather with a laugh in her voice.

Brad stopped when he saw me, blinked a couple of times. I didn’t know what Heather had told him to expect, of course, but in any case, he was surprised by me, or more likely, by my appearance.

“Brad. I want you to meet Cary, my husband.” said Heather, then laughed again.

Brad chuckled too. He was nervous. I found myself smiling back. He wasn’t quite the ogre that I’d somehow worked myself up to expect.

“And Cary. This is Brad. He is sooo funny. I’d forgtten what joker he was in college.”

“Hi.” I said to Brad, our eyes meeting, although what passed between us, I couldn’t say. Understanding? Confusion? Something anyway.

“Do you want to come through to the living room?” I asked politely. “Could I get you some drinks?”

“Oh, great Idea.” said Brad, removing his jacket and taking Heather’s too.

Heather’s eyes floshed briefly. She’d have preferred for me to do that, I guess.

“Yes. Drinks.” She said. “More drinks!” and they both laughed again.

I hurried into the kitchen and poured a glass of red wine for her, a scotch on the rocks for him. I reckoned that would be about right.

When I returned, I found them sitting together on the sofa, Brad’s arm draped casually around Heather’s shoulders. Even though I’d been expeciting it, the sight still gave me a pang.

Heather’s eyes searched mine out as I sat down.

“So, Cary, what do you think of Brad?” She asked, challengingly.

“He’s very handsome.” I replied, casting my eyes down, embarrased.

She laughed, while Brad smiled, slightly embarrased himself.

“Yes. Yes, he’s handsome alright.” She said. “And so succesful too. What is it Brad, most valuable player three years in a row?”

“Star player.” Corrected Brad, smiling.

She laughed. “Yeah, you’re a player alright.” and they both laughed at their private joke.

“You see, when I contacted Brad, and told him about our, situation.” She continued. “He said he’d love to meet up with me. And he told me about this time, he met up with one of his high school buddies, who’s married now, at his house? And Brad thought that this guy’s wife was coming on to him.”

“She was.” Said Brad.

“And Brad didn’t want to, you know, because this guy was his friend, and they were, like in his house. But then in front of her husband, this woman, she was like really coming on to him, and then she kissed him. And she said, it’s okay, that they were swingers.”

“And he looked like he was kinds into it.” Said Brad, with an innocent look, but a little smile too.

Heather laughed. “Yeah, like he had a choice. Anyway, like Brad needs no more encouragement.”

“She was all over me. Really.”

“And the guy says that they’ve done this before, like with another guy?”

I noticed that Heather was leaning in very close to Brad as she told the story. Brad looked very pleased with himself. His hand was draped over her bare shoulder, and Heather’s body was pressed very close.

“So Brad, says sure, and then she starts sucking his cock!”

“I mean, I’d done stuff kinda like that before, maybe in Vegas, with some of the guys at a cathouse. But never with like, a husband, there watching.”

“And Brad said. It was kind of weird, because the guy was talking about this, like they were both going to do her, but she didn’t suck her husband’s cock. No, just Brad’s. “

“Yeah, and he was just watching, and I could tell, you know? That he was going along with it, but he wasn’t really happy about it.”

“But she was.” Laughed Heather.

“Yeah.” Said Brad, and they looked at each other for a long moment and then moved slowly closer and then they were kissing, deep and slow. Heather’s hands moved around him and Brad gently stroked her thigh, up under her dress and onto her ass. I could see Heather getting more excited, her chest heaving and her feet began to twitch a little.

“Oh fuck.” gasped Heaher as they broke, and she turned to me, looked into my eyes as her lover’s hands roamed over her body.

“I made Brad wait till we got home.” She said. “I wanted you to see our first kiss.”

Then she continued.

“So, yeah, he was kind of into it, but not into it, if you can imagine that.” She said.

“Yes.” Said Brad, it was like you-know, he was trying to make himself believe that this was swinging. Pretending that it wasn’t just that his wife wanted to fuck another guy. So, she’s like, on her knees, giving me head, and he’s just sitting there. And he didn’t even try to like get her to suck him off too. So, I was guessing, you know, that when he said they’d done this before, like, it was just like this. that his wife was just fucking another guy and he was you know - just watching.”

“And so you fucked her there, with him watching?” aksed Heather.

“No. She wanted to go upstairs, so she leads me up there, and she’s getting undressed all the way up the stairs. You know, throwing her clothes everywhere, and he kind of just trails along behind us, with her ignoring him, and it was like he didn’t even know if he should come into the bedroom with us. At that stage I didn’t know if he was going to join in, I just wanted to fuck her. She was really really hot.”

“And he did join you guys in the bedroom?”

“Yeah, but he just kind of perched there, on the end while she lay down. And I was like, trying to ignore him too, and after a minute I just kind of forgot he was there too. Because, you know ...”

Heather laughed. “Because you were too busy fucking his wife right in front of him?”

He laughed too. “Yeah, and oh man, it was fuckin great, and usually, if I’m with like a woman, I’m usually kind of worried about, you know, wanting to take her ass, but she was really into it.”

“And she just ignored him the whole time?”

“Yeah, well kinda, sometimes she’d look over at him and maybe say something, like telling him how big I was and how good a stud I was, stuff like that.”

“Fuck.” Said. Heather. “And this guy was like a friend?”

“Kinda yeah. I mean, I dunno about now.”

Heather laughed again and caught my eye.

“So, when you were done, what then?”

“Yeah, well, I was thinking that maybe then, he’d like get a turn, and I really didn’t want to see that, but you know, I was still feeling kind of guilty, so I was gonna stay, but then she was like all asking me questions about when we could meet up again, and she was asking me about other guys on the team, and maybe she and some of the other guys and me could meet up. Like she was into, you know, doing more of us.”

“But not her husband?”

“Nope, like he wasn’t even there.”

“So what happened then?”

“Well, I was done, I just kind of left, and he let me out the front door.”

“And didn’t he say anything.”

“Not really, he just was acting like nothing much had happened, although I could tell he was pretty worked up. He never said anything though.The last thing he said as I left was ‘Thanks Brad’.

Heather laughed again. “Thanks Brad.” She repeated. She looked at me. “You’ll have to say thanks to Brad too when he’s done fucking your wife.”

She smiled. Her hands were in his crotch.

“Because, if what I felt in that nightclub is right, he’s going to give me exactly what I want.”

She smiled at him, and they kissed again as her fingers unzipped his fly and dug into his pants. They emerged with a huge flaccid cock, dark and flabby.

“Oh my goodness.” Said Heather. “Fuck! No wonder she was so excited. Jesus, Brad, I’d forgotten you were so fuckin’ huge. “

She slid to the floor and turned her back to me, leaning in to Brad’s crotch.

“Oh yeah.” He moaned as my wife’s fingers peeled back his foreskin and she stroked him with both hands.

“Yeah Heather, it’s been too long girl.” He said. “I never had head like you used to give me back in college.” He said.

Her hands were pumping harder now, coaxing some stiffness into his giant slab of meat.

“When that bitch was talking about fucking the team, I thought of you. You were like our mascot. Yeah. The way you used to sneak into the changing rooms after a game?”

She glanced over her shoulder at me.

“I always made sure to take care of you first though, didn’t I?” She asked, licking her lips.

“Yeah. Even though you were, like, the first team slut, I knew you liked me fucking you best.”

“Well, you were the star player.”

Her eyes, locked on mine, Heather lowered her face to his growing phallus and opened wide to take head of his cock into her pretty mouth.

“Aaaaaah.” Sighed Brad. “Fuck, Heather, how’d you end up with a pussy like this?”

He looked over at me, the pussy.

“Fuck, man? How’d it happen? How did you go from marrying this sweet piece of ass to prancing about in panties, watching her fuck another guy? Huh?”

Heather answered for me, lifting her head and pumping him with her free hand.

“I’ll tell you why. You know what my husband loves more than anything Brad? Panties. He loves wearing them. And pantyhose. Yes. That’s it. He loves it more than anything. He loves dressing up like a sissy. Seriously. He just wants to be a girl. Isn’t that right Cary?”

“Yes.” I said, maybe not very loudly.

“And he looooves watching me get fucked. Yeah.”

She turned to me.

“You enjoying watching me suck Brad’s cock? Huh Cary?”

“Yes.”

“Would it be just perfect for you if I let you wear a sluttier outfit, would it? Something really sexy, while you watch me and Brad fuck?”

She resumed sucking Brad’s cock while she awaited my answer.

I knew where this was leading. I was wary.

“No.” I said quietly.

“No? You’re sure? She was slapping herself on the face with his cock. It was now enormous, but still not completley hard. It was like Brad and I were from different species - the size of my cock bore such little relation to his.

“You don’t want to slip into that little pink satin dress? I think you’d enjoy it.” She sang.

She was saying something to me without letting Brad know. But no. I resisted. I didn’t want to do it.

“Okay, you just watch us have fun then.”

As she sucked and licked his cock, Brad tossed her hair and pressed her deeper onto his shaft, fucking her throat and making her gag. His eyes were clouding and his colour was changing, darkening. And Heather was changing too. Her breath getting shorter, her face flushed, her eyelids fluttering.

“Did you know Heather was a total fuck-slut when she was in college?” Asked Brad suddenly.

My eyes flicked to hers, her mouth sealed around Brad’s erection, but her expression was too hard to read.

My heart was pounding, painful, my mouth so dry I could hardly form the words.

“No. No I didn’t.”

“I guessed not. Heard she’d cleaned up her act after she graduated. But yeah. Your wife was the campus bike. Everyone had her. And then, one time, she came to a team party at the start of the season. Supposedly no girls allowed, but she snuck in to the hotel. At first, she was just giving blowjobs to anyone who wanted, but then, one of the guys took her into a bedroom to get some privacy, but some other guys followed and soon she’d spread her legs and everyone had a go. From then on, it was like she belonged to the team. She musta drunk a gallon of our spunk every season. “

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. The Heather I had married, who I’d been married to for five years, wasn’t like that, or at least, she hadn’t been. She’d been so demure, so chaste and innocent when we had first met.

And yet. And yet. She’d always been so coy about her past. There had been those looks form her oldest friends when we’d announced our engagement. I hadn’t thought she was a virgin when we met, but, but I’d always been surprised, dissapointed that she was so, so indifferent to our lovemakeing. I’d always put this dows to my own shortcomings and inadequacy, assumed she just wasn’t that into sex at all. But had there been more? Was she so wanton, so sluttly that our pedestrian, run-of-the-mill sex lives had been boring, pathetic?

She had reacted so quickly, with such extreme measures to my secret fetish. Had it been more than just her anger at my dishonesty? Had she secretly been pleased that she could once again behave like a total slut?

I caught her eye again, her mouth distended with Brad’s cock, her drool dribbling down his shaft, her hand playing with ball sack. Her eyes twinkled at me, and then she winked.

I still couldn’t quite believe it was true. Maybe she’d set him up to say all that. Brad was grinning at me. Was he laughing at me because he’d helped twist the knife of humiliation another turn, or because he’d fooled me into thinking my wife wasn’t just a cock-hungry slut now, but that she’d always been?