Eva's getting ready

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Eval Lovia, Cuckold Caprtion. Power

Power

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No.
I will tell you how it’s going to be in this relationship.
I will do whatever I like with whoever I like.
You will accept this and be content.
That is the end of it.
Are you crying?
I understand. You feel joy. And release.
Let it all out baby.
I will be everything to you.
You need only to obey me.
In Everything.

Eva Lovia. Cuckold Caption. The way she looks at him.

The way she looks at him.

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The way she looks at him.
Does she know she’s doing it? Does she even care?
When I agreed. When I gave in. She said it would just be one time. Then it was another time. Then just one more.
She said it was just sex. That he scratched that particular itch she had. That it would make ‘us’ stronger.
But when she comes back after being with him, she just rolls over and sleeps. When we do have sex, she just seems bored. And when she pretends to be into it, it’s so obvious, it hurts so bad.
But the way she looks at him. It’s like a knife in my heart.
And she doesn’t care.

Eva Lovia. Cuckold Caption. Control

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Now, you’re going to just kneel there and do what I say, understand?
I know you have these feelings of ... inadequacy ... of weakness ...
It’s time you faced up to them, embraced them.
You’re going to masturbate to me. Yes, now, while kneeling in front of me.
Yes. I want you to. I give you permission . No need to hide, let’s just have this out in the open.
Masturbate to me. Now.
This is how we’re going to have sex from now on. Me in my lingerie. You, staring and masturbating.
No contact.
Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Once you’re done I’m going to call James and he’ll take care of my needs. Again.
You like the sound of that? Yes, honey. Do it now. Do you want to spunk on my feet?
Uh huh. Yes. Good boy.
Go clean up. I want to change.

Buying Lingerie. A sissy man's guide.

I may look fabulous, but
I feel sweaty and uncomfortable.

I don't know if you've ever bought lingerie or other items of women clothing with the intention of wearing it. I have. Lots of it. And here's some of my experiences and thoughts about it.

Buy with your touch, not your eyes.

What on earth possessed me?

Oh boy, did I learn this the hard way. See Ancilla Antila above?. Doesn't she look fabulous.?Wouldn't you like to wear her super-fetish outfit?

STOP! Put down that mouse! Click no further! It won't fit you. No matter what shape you are. It barely fits her and she has the body of a  Disney Porn Princess  Plus, it will feel horrible on your skin.  Poor Ancilla is probably putting a brave face on it for the photo shoot. She's preternaturally curvy and slim and it's probably still cutting of her circulation.

See this black strappy outfit ? I own that. What was I thinking? For a start, even though it does fit - just. It feels horrible. The stitching digs in, it doesn't really stretch, and the straps are very uncomfortable. I think I wore it once and gave up. Plus it's not that shiny, it was probably buffed up once the model put it on, and perhaps a bit of photoshop too.

Just in case it's not obvious, buying this outfit is not going to make you look like this woman. Well, duh. But it won't even make you feel like this woman either. You'll feel like someone who wasted $32 on something they'll never wear. 

Now, don't give up just yet. I'm not here to tell you to give up on your desire for sexy women's clothes. No no no. As if! But I do want to save you some dollars and some disappointment, even heartbreak.

See this dress. Bought from Amazon $45. It looks so pretty and on this model, looks lovely, but the fabric is unpleasant. It's neither sexily shiny or cotton comfortable, but feels itchy and heavy while looking like something your Grandmother would wear. I put it on. Once. Now it's in the never-wear section. I think that this is another case of the photoshop effect. I was so disappointing in this fabric. It's much more matte in real life than it looks in the photo. And, it just doesn't hang like that. Is she maybe wearing some kind of petticoat below? It's not just her hips making it flare out like that. In reality, it hangs limply.

As any woman will tell you, it is hard to buy clothes online. As a feminine-clothing obsessed sissy man, your problems are magnified. It won't feel like it looks, and even if you get your 'size' that's no guarantee it will fit. You don't have hips or boobs. It will hang loosely or else constrict painfully in all the wrong places.

If I move even an inch, this will
roll down to my waist.

Now, see this below. I have no recollection what made me buy this, but it's my favorite piece ever. The material feels sexy, clingy, soft but firm, and so very sexy. I now own six of these. But wait. Yes, that's the dress I bought first, but and yes, it was a revelation. But it had a major problem. Without a bust, it just won't stay up. The barest movement and it's rolling down your chest. Give it ten minutes and you're wearing a waistband. Nightmare. So, for my next purchase I bought the exact same dress, but with straps. Lovely thin spaghetti straps in the same material.  That's it below in the pink. Oh, how I wish I had bought six of them then, because shortly afterwards, these were discontinued. Now, I can't even find a picture of the strappy version in black to show you. The material is soft. It wears out. The one I have with straps still feels great but it has holes along the seams and this makes me feel a bit cheap when I'm putting it on. It spoils the experience. How I wish I had more of them.

So this advice may be pointless. You can't tell what it's going to feel like by looking online. You really can't tell if it's going to fit. Short answer, be cautious. If it looks fetishy and cheap, avoid. If the fabric looks less than perfect, then check what the hell it's made from and see if it matches other things you know you like. You want things that are stretchy and as simply made as possible.

I'm clever, because I have straps.

Now, an aside, and maybe I should have started with this. What the hell are you buying this for? I'm aware that not all motivations are the same. On one end of the scale are full-on crossdressers who go out in public. Good luck. I admire your bravery. That's not me. I'm never going to ever, ever let anyone see me dressed. Nope. I don't even look at myself in the mirror when I do. I know I'll look silly, but even if I didn't, that's not the point. It's the feeling that matters.The feeling of pulling the clothes on. The feel of them. The tug of the straps. The sensation of the soft fabric. The clingy firmness of lycra, comforting and holding. It's as specific and as personal as anything can be. I love to be dressed when I'm writing. Sometimes I just want to sit and feel the clothes. If possible, I move about, do housework, ordinary things. Just to feel how it feels. That's probably not you. Maybe you do it for the look, for wearing to work. For going for a drive. Who knows. Your mileage may not just vary but but be utterly different. This is me.

Are you going to be able to put it on?

See this? Oh god, how I agonised over this. It was so expensive and so lovely. I wanted it. So bad. I wondered if it would fit? How it would feel? Would I be able to breathe? 

These problems paled though, when I found I couldn't even put it on. Not that it didn't fit, but doing up those laces? You need someone else to do that. Yes, you can manage on your own, given an hour to spare, a pair of full-length mirrors, and a lot of patience. A great deal of patience. And then it still isn't right. And you can't sit down. Looks lovely though.

A team of five maids worked overtime
to strap me up. It was easy!

Stockings and their garters. 

I've written elsewhere about Pantyhose, and more on them later, but  yes, I do own some stockings. If you're going to buy corsets or the I-don't-know-what-to-call-it vinyl basque thing above then you need stockings to wear with them. I own some opaque pink stockings and a pair of vinyl-covered black stockings. But oh Sweet Fairy Godmother of all that's Sweet and Pretty, attaching the damn garters is a nightmare. You know the kind of thing, a little metal loop over a nub of rubberized metal? 

Try it out. Pops on and off. Easy. Lovely. Put some fabric - even gossamer thin nylon - between them, and it turns into a Chinese puzzle. Now, do it behind your back, over your upper thigh where you can't see and can barely reach?  How about a 60 denier stocking top? How about some faux-vinyl shiny black fabric over a nylon backing?  Aaaaagh! Hours I've spent wriggling and turning and cursing trying to get them attached on. They feel like they've gripped and then it just pops off, like they're laughing at you. Or worse, you get it attached on but you realise it's way off the position on the stocking top so the whole thing is twisted around. Ruing the effect. Remember what I said about why I'm doing this? For the luxurious, feminine feel of putting it on. You can see how it's hard to keep that in mind while you twist around painfully, cursing the damn things to hell.

So, forget that. Don't put the garter on. Put the stockings  and garter together first and then step into it. Yes, it's tricky. Yes you may need to do this from a sitting position or else you'll trip, bang your head then have to explain what you were doing to the paramedics, but at least it's possible. Now, never undo them again. Perhaps sew them together. That's it.

Yes it fits, yes I can get it on. But now what?

Pretty, perfect, and leaves no room
for an unsightlym uncomfortable bulge.

Another aside. I'm not going out or wandering around town in these clothes. This is strictly for alone-time, no chance of being disturbed time. What do I do when I have it on? Well, you can probably guess, but apart from that, writing. So, I'm sitting at a desk, typing. I want to feel feminine. I want to feel comfortable. I want to feel like I look pretty, and as long as I don't actually look, the fantasy works. But look at this thing - the pretty pink body. O own this exact one. Lord, it's gorgeous. The material is soft and silky. Mmmm. And yes, it fits too, just about. It's snug. And after a couple of minutes, that's a problem. It's so snug, so tight, so that what was a pleasant embrace is now getting distinctly uncomfortable. Yes, you can undo the poppers, but where's the point in that? Now, revived of all tension it just hangs there, feeling wrong, you might as well have got a pink vest.

No room for junk.

How about this one? Oh man, does it feel good, walking around or under a nice slim-fitting dress. Sit down though, get a little more, well, turgid, and suddenly you can barely breathe. Suffering succotash, it's as hard ot get off as it was to get on. Whew. 

So, you need to consider, what you're going to be doing in your lovely lingerie too. Are you likely to be, well, excited? In that case, perhaps consider something a little looser in the groin area,  or at least do yourself a favor and get something that can expand.

Dresses.

Flirt, fabulous and unavailable.

I've never bought a skirt. Only dresses. Skirts, well, they're just half as pretty as a dress, right? Here's one of my favorites. I actually have this in white, but it's this exact one. The skirt is so short! The nylon panel is so yummy! The waist is so high! Mmm Mmm. This is one of maybe half a dozen dresses I've bought over the years and this one is the only one that gets regular wear. I wish I had the black. I wish it was just a teeny weeny bit larger, but it's prefect and I love it. If only Yandy still sold it.

It's very, very hard to say why I like some dresses and not others. I love the feel of them. The weight hanging off your shoulders and hips. The swish of the hem, the folds of the fabric. But some I've bought, while they tick all those boxes just don't do it for me. Some combination of fabric, style and fit works and everything else feels wrong or at best, so-so. You  may have to kiss a lot of frogs to find your princess, but it's nothing to the number of dresses you need to try on before you find the  dress. 

Bodycon and shaper wear.

Like two mixing bowls
strapped to your chest.

Here be dragons - and fairies. If you think this article is just saying that buying women's clothes online is a hit-and-miss crap-shoot, then this isn't going to change that theme. I've bought lots of shaper wear too and I've been both delighted and disappointed, and not in equal measure. Shaper-wear sizes are almost meaningless. You want something snug, but you end up with constricting. You want something firm but it feels like pulling on an old jumper. You wanted shape, you end up losing all feeling in your legs. 

My best item in this area is the slip to the right. It feels wonderful, just the right balance of firmness and give in a fabric that feels gentle and soft. The main downside is that there's a very stiff pair of bra cups built in. You can just about see them in the picture. In real life they're big stiff cups, like strapping a couple of mixing bowls to your chest. When I wear it, I have to stuff the cups. If that's your thing, great, if not, well, keep looking and paying because this stuff isn't cheap.

Pantyhose.

Pantyhose is the the best item you can buy, in my opinion. You pull them on and feel feminine and comforted straight away. There isn't a huge problem with fitting and they're easy to purchase.

Fabric and quality is the key factor here. If they're cheap they won't be good. You want a good, well-known brand. Find a style you like and stick to it. Personal preference dictates all here. For me, black is the only colour. High denier opaques are the only style and the only way to be sure of size is to buy the whole range all and find which fits by trying them on. I have supposedly small pairs which are bigger than other XL sizes. I have ones where the leg has maybe an extra eight inches to spare but the waistband feels like a nylon vice and others where the legs are so short the gusset hangs down between your thighs while the panty flaps around loosely. 

That's okay if they're eight dollars in a three-pack, not so great if they're $46 Woolfords. But it's worth it for the feeling of wearing a perfect pair. And if you find a pair you like - buy three more now. They will go out of production as soon as you decide they're you're favorites.

Crotchless?

Or rather, ones like these where it's like suspenders-built-in. Hmm. So, I only branched out and bought a pair of these this year, and yeah, these are slightly delicious. This particular pair could do with more lycra - they're losing their shape a little and they're getting that 'bally' effect, so I wish there were higher quality ones available. They certainly solve the not-enough room problem and they feel good, not as good as a proper reinforced-panty pair but still, surprisingly good. Further research required.

In all, I think I'm happy with and continue to wear about one fifth of everything I've ever bought. I love buying it. Choosing and shortlisting and waiting for it to arrive is a large part of the fun and excitement. I've bought from figleaves, amazon a couple of specialist hosiery online shops, and of course, Yandy.com. I've even bought a couple of items in person a long time ago when I was braver. I wrote that experience up as an article a few years ago. I might see if I can find it. 

Please comment if you found this article in any way interesting, or even if you didn't. Your comments are what keep me coming back to this keyboard.

Next part of Basque/Hotel. (I have to get a name for this - any suggestions?)
Continues straight from the previous part. I'll make a .pdf of it all soon.
Please comment if you like this.

She was so beautiful. She had slid to the floor in front of Brad, her back turned partly to me. She was kneeling, her head bobbing in his lap, her mouth sucking greedily on his cock while another stroked his shaft. She’d tossed her long hair over to the other side of her face so I could see her lips on Brad’s cock. She was making a low growling, moaning noise deep in the back of her throat.
Brad was trying to feel her breasts through the soft lambswool roll-neck.
She broke off her sucking.
“Cary, be a dear and take off my sweater, will you?” She asked with a smile.
Somehow, being asked to do this brought home the reality of the situation.  My wife was asking me to help undress her so her boyfriend could more easily fondle her breasts right in front of me. I rose to do so, my eyes fixed on her mocking smile. I could tell she was enjoying this enormously. She loved rubbing my face in her infidelity, displaying her body to me as her lover pawed at her. I loved her so deeply, so completely, and somehow, seeing her have sex with another man, knowing I’d lost her, just intensified my feelings.
As  I reached down to gently pull off the dark lambswool roll-neck, she caught my eye, licked her lips and winked at me.
Her head descended again to Brad’s lap and and I was close enough to hear the raw, profane sound of my wife slurping her saliva from her lover’s cock.
I sat back a little, unable to take my eyes off her mouth. His cock was huge, much much larger than mine, and Heather really seemed to be enjoying herself. Her eyes were shining, and I could detect a little smile, despite her lips being wrapped around a huge penis. Brads hands were inside her bra cups, pinching her nipples and fondling her heaving  breasts.
She broke off for a moment.
“What do you think of Brad’s cock?” She asked.
Without thinking, I replied. “It’s big.”
They both laughed.  “It’s a fuck of a lot bigger than yours anyway.” Said Heather. “I can’t wait to have it filling me up, fucking my pussy.  But aren’t you so like a  sissy.” She changed her voice to a mocking falsetto - “Oh, it’s sooo big.” And they both laughed at me again.
“Come on.” She said. standing up. “I want you to undress me.”
She stared at Brad, watching her, his cock now lolling in his lap, while I stood beside her, sissy handmaid to my mistress. She’d kicked off her shoes already. I fumbled with the zip on the side of her skirt. My hands were shaking.
“Come on Cary.” She teased. “Brad’s waiting. “You don’t want his cock to go soft do you?”
Brad laughed.
“I mean, if his cock goes soft, who’ll have to suck it hard again? Hmmm? I’ve already had my turn, haven’t I? You might need to get him ready, or else you won’t get to see him fuck me, and that’s what you want most in the world, isn’t it?”
At last, I had her skirt off.  “Yes.” I said. Desperate to avoid what she seemed to have in mind.
She’d turned to me, her face inches from mine.
“Pull down my panites.” She said. “Show Brad your wife’s pusssy.” I knelt and tugged down her silky panties. I stood again, and she draped her arms over my shoulders.
“Now. Ask him to fuck your wife.” She ordered.
I shuddered. Her eyes bored into my skull, leaving no escape.
“Please Brad. Fuh, fuck my wife.” I stammered.
 Heather glared at me. “Put some fuckin’ imagination into it Cary.” She hissed.  “Come on. We both know you can do better than that shit. Tell it like you mean it. We both know you do.”
I closed my eyes. I gulped. This was too real. Too much.
“Please Brad. Will you please fuck Heather. I’m .. I’m inadequate, and she’s never had good sex with me. And, and she really wants you to fuck her. And. And I want her to be happy.”
“Lovely.” Mouthed Heather to me, and she licked her lips. Brad was standing behind her.
“Sure Cary. I know she’s been gagging for a real cock for years. She couldn’t stop telling me in the club.”
 He nudged her knees apart a little with his own and she sank a little as her stilettoed feet moved apart a couple of inches on the hardwood floor. Her arms were still around my shoulders, her hands clasped behind my head. Brad moved closer, and watching her face, I saw, I felt his cock invade her pussy.
The look that came over  Heather’s face was both  wonderful and terrible. Her face creased in pain and pleasure as the huge cock stretched her pussy, forcing his way into her. I knew she’d wanted me to see her face up close to give me what I’d said I wanted, to show me in detail what she looked like when she had a real man’s cock inside her. I’d never seen her like this. Not in all the years of our marriage had I made her feel like this - like a woman. How sad and pathetic it must have been for her to end up with a man who could never satisfy her. Never touch the raw, sexual, feminine woman inside her. But now, here it was, in front of me.  How priviliged I was to see this. How she must love me to allow me to share in this with her.
Brad gripped Heather’s  hips with his huge hands and began thrusting into her.
“Oh man. Fucking your wife is the best!” He exclaimed. “She is such a fuckin’ slut! And she’s so tight! It’s like poppin’ a cherry.”
Heather let out a strangled laugh.
“Ha! Cary’s cock is so fucking small and pathetic.”
She paused, her head bobbing with the force of his thrusts.
“He never came close to stretching me.”
She paused again, gasping.
“It’d slip in.... and I’d have to ask ... uh .... is it in yet?”
And they both laughed at me, still fucking. The sound of my Brad’s thighs slapping off my wife’s as he pumped her, punctuating their laughter.
“Not like your cock Brad. Oh man. Now I know I’m getting fucked!”
Cary reached for her elbows, gripped both her arms, pulled her from me, and forced her down more, pulling her onto him, with each thrust, her high heels skittering on the polished floor.
He was fucking her now. In this position, she could only just fight to keep her legs from buckling. They weren’t making love together. He was fucking her. Literally in front of me.
Her head swayed and shook, her hair falling over her face. She shook it up, looked at me again.
“So ... this .. is what ... you .... wanted.    Seeing me ... getting ... fucked.   Is ... it ... all ... you ... dweamed of .. Cary?   ... Is it?”
She didnt wait for an answer.
“Euuggh. Fuck. Yes! Brad! Mmwah! Uh. Fuck my pussy!”
And suddenly he stopped, released her, and instinctively she fell to her knees in front of him, pulled his cock to her mouth and sucked hungrily on it, one hand on the shaft, the other, moving to her own crotch, fingering deeply into herself.
Brad grapsed her head with both hands and began fucking her mouth, rapidly, forcefully.
“Yeah. Suck it. Suck it. bitch” He barked. He looked over at me, his eyes clouded.
“Get on the couch sissy.” He ordered.
As I hesitated, unsure, he said “Gonna show you how to fuck a bitch.”
With a sense of shame at my relief, I realised he meant Heather, not me.
“This is what they want.” He said. “Cock. Gotta make them respect the cock. They need it. You’ll see.”
Heather ‘s  head was still slamming back and forth,  taking his deep thrusts into her throat.  Gagging noises came from her mouth. It was a terrible sight. If even just to let her stop, I clambered past them to the couch. sat on it, unsure what Brad wanted me to do.
“Sit back on the side.” He said and as I did so,  he released her head, pulled her up under the arms, deposited her between my legs so she was lying back on me, her head on my chest, her leags spread.
Heather’s hair was spread on my chest, her back pressed against my cock, straining inside my panties and hose. I could smell the soft scent of her shampoo from her hair, as familiar and lovely as ever. As Brad climbed onto the couch, she looked back at me, her eyes dabbed with tears from the throat-fucking she’d received.
“I want his cock.” She mouthed to me silently. The cushions sank as his wieght joined us, and Heather grabbed my wrists in her own hands, pulled my hands to her calves and I grasped them almost without thinking and she pulled my hands back, making me spread her legs wide for him.
My own legs were spread too, on either side of my wife. Brad’s bulk, his hugely muscled chest, his flat, sweat-slicked abs and  massive, engorged cock hulked over us. He positioned his cock over Heather’s pussy, pressing it between the soft folds of her mound, digging into her a little, then he gripped one leg with his arm and thust himself deep into her. Our bodies were pressed lengthwise together. I felt her gasp, release, grip, shudder and yield to him. His member buried all the way inside her. Her lower back was forced against my own cock, her legs suddenly trembling, her back muscles spasming against me, and with a sudden gasp, we were lost. Lost to the cock. To the fucking, to this alpha male, taking us, fucking us. Making us his bitch.
“Heuh. Heuh. Heuh.” Mewled Heather, little cat-like noises escaping from deep in her chest with each thrust of Brad’s cock into her.
“Jesus Brad. Jesus. Yes. Oh Yes. Heinnh. Heinnh. Fuck! Fuck yes. Fuck your bitch. Fuck your bitch.”
Her arms flailed about - stroking his chest, grabbing at her own nipples, reaching behind her to stoke my face - surprisingly tenderly. But there was no mistaking it. I was nothing to her now. Just a cushion. Everything was about the cock and the need to have it slide in and out of her. Deeper and harder and more delicious and insistent and forceful.
“You see, sissy? You see? You see your wife? You see her, how she really is?” Grunted Brad, his words forced between his teeth.
“She’s just a BITCH!” He grunted.
“Who needs the COCK!”
“Put on her BACK!”
“And  fucked like a BITCH!”
“Waaaaaaaah.”  Wailed Heather, her knees tembling uncontrollably, and the spasm began to rock her whole body as she shuddered in a terrific, clenching, terrible orgasm. Her whole body vibrated against mine as it took hold, yet I could still feel him pounding into her, rhythmic, primal, unstoppable.
“Brad! Oh Brad! Yes! Brad! Yeah! Oh! Yes! Oh. Oh. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me Brad. It’s so good. Please. Oh yes.”
And I learned something about women. This was what they wanted. To be fucked like this. To come,  and still be fucked. Fucked through their orgasm and on, and on. Not stopping. Not holding out till she came and then finally gasping,  squirting into her, a weak spurt of seed. But on and on, and relentless to more and more fucking.
Brad never faltered or even paused. He slammed into her again and again and again.  Slapping her legs open wider and wider as she peaked and subsided and then, regaining her strength, she began to peak again, encouraging him to fuck her harder, deeper.
“Fuck me.” She gasped through gritted teeth.
“Fuck me.”
“Fuck your bitch.”
“Fuck your whore.”
“Fuck me.”
“Fuck me Brad.”
“Fuck me.”
I tried not to look into his eyes. But there was nowhere else to look. His face loomed over us, as he fucked my wife into submission on top of me.
“Wider bitch.” He rumbled. And Heather pulled her legs wide as she could to give him access deep into the furthest reaches inside her.
He pumped her relentlessly. Her breath shucking in and out of her body as his weight slammed into her again anad again.
And then, terribly, he slowed. I felt Heather’s body protest, cling, try to hold him in. But he pulled out and lay back and she desperately scrambled to bury her face in his crotch, to worship the source of the pleasure again.
He tenderly stroked her hair, lying back and breathing slow as she worked on his cock with her mouth, sucking and stroking like her life depended on it.
Now, her ass was right in my face. I could see her gaping pussy, actually trembling in front of me.
Brad’s breathing slowed a little.
“You know what your wife told me on the way over here?” He asked.
He didn’t wait for an answer.
“She said that you never made her come, not once. Not in five years of marriage. Man! How can that be man?” He shook his head.
“Seriously. She said her wedding night was the most dissapointing night of her life. She realised what a big fucking mistake she’d made, but like, she’d married you, and, you know, she was in love with you and wanted to be a good wife and all, so she was like, she’d just have to put up with it, forever.”
Heather was still sucking his cock, making little moaning noises in her throat.
“And because, like, you couldn’t make her come, but she was like, sorry for you, she’d pretend to enjoy sex with you, and that you were so stupid, and like, you must have never seen a woman come, not for real, you never even guessed. And, that was like what it was like. And I asked. I said, you-know, didn’t she ever want to cheat . And she said, yeah, she wanted to, but she was a good wife, so she never would,  no matter how many guys would hit on her. And you know? You know?”
He was looking at me. I just shook my head forlornly.
“You know. Sure. Like, guys can tell, you know, when a woman isn’t getting any, when  she’s horny, like not having been fucked properly, in like, years, man! She must have beeen getting hit on all the time. Like, giving off vibes, maybe hormonal or some shit. Like, when we met this evening? Like man, if she hadn’t already told me, I’d have known straight away, like there’s a woman who isn’t getting any cock, you know?”
“So then, right, she finds all this shit you have on the internet, and shit you’ve written, like fantasies, about her fucking around and treating you like a sissy, and wanting to wear women’s clothes and shit, and she was like - Whoah! What the fuck, and you were like jerking off to this shit, all the fuckin time? Like you were cheating on her, but like, with porn and shit, and she was like, oh man!  I can’t believe this asshole, doesn’t fuck me right, and all the time he’s like a fucking secret sissy. No wonder, and here she is, like saving herself. How fucked up is that?”
I shook my head.
He nodded, angry. “Yeah, so if you’re feelin’ sorry for yourself, feelin bad because your wife is fucking another guy in front of you, and like I would be too, but when she explained, and told me this shit - and it’s totally true, right? - yeah, I’m like, fuck yeah. Fuck him.”
“I’m sorry.” I said, pathetically.
“Yeah, you are one sorry asshole. Sitting there watching your wife suck another man’s cock. And now, I’m gonna fuckin’ show you. Gonna’ slam-fuck her right here. You want this cock Heather?”
“Oh Jesus yes, please Brad.” She said quickly, and she rose and presented her rear to him, straddling me on her all fours on the couch so her face was above mine.
I couldn’t really see Brad, just Heather’s head , framed by her beautiful auburn hair, and her breasts swaying above me,
She kissed me, her breath smelling of his cock, her face flushed.
“I love Brad’s cock.” She said, her voice husky. “i love being fucked and I love doing it in front of you.”
Suddenly there was a slap and her face winced in pain. He had given her a hard spank!
“Oh yeah!” She squeeled. “Do me. Do me now.”
And there was another spank and she squeeled, her eyes closing and then flying open again, sparkling at me. And then her mouth creased and opened wide and her eyes clouded and I knew he’d thrust his big fat hard cock deep into my wife’s pussy again, and she was loving it.
“Uuuugh.” She gasped, and she caught my chin in one hand, even as her body bucked with his first thrusts.
“I love my new life.” She said. “Finally getting fucked, by a real man, a strong man. Not my wimpy, sissy hubby. Not you. “
“Euuugh. Yes. It feels so good. So good in my cunt. Do I look good? Do I Cary? Do I look like I did in your imagination when you were writing your stories? Do I? Do I look like the perfect wife? Do I look like an angel? A filthy, slutty angel with a cock in her snatch? Do you love me now? Did you get what you wished for?”
She looked back at him over her shoulder, panting.
“Yeah. Yeah, fuck me. Brad.” She squeeled.
And he began to really pound her, hard and fast. Her head bobbed and shook and her voice became a low thrumming drone as he hammered her, and her face began to change colour and her mouth distended into a pouting scowl of pure sexual pleasure.
“UhUhUhUhUhnnnnnn. Oh fuck god yes please. Uhhnnnnnnnn.”  She moaned and I saw her come again, her eyes closed in ecstacy as Brad’s cock punished her pussy as hard as he could. I could hardly bear to watch, but pinned beneath her, I had no choice. As Heather came, her arms slid out and she fell on top of me, her cheek pressed against mine, her chest pressed on top of me, so I could feel, so clearly the force of his thusts and the effect they were having on my wife’s spasming body.
Flushed, sweating, every muscle tensed, she came on top of me,  her lover’s torso slamming out his rythm on her ass.
Even as she collapsed Brad still fucked her, wrenching into her now limp body with even more ferocity, until, I could hear his own breathing change, and suddenly he lifted her up by the shoulders and pulled her sitting again. His cock was inches from her face and she moved to suck it almost by instinct, but his hand held her away while the other pumped his huge, engorged phallus rapidly. He held her head with one hand and Heather’s eyes sought mine, a smile playing on her lips as she witnessed my reaction to this awful sight. As he began to spasm, she looked up to him, smiling, as his cock erupted a jet of white semen onto her face, from her lips to her hair-line. He bellowed in brute victory as another spurted over one cheek and over her eyelid and then another over her lips and into her waiting, open mouth. Then, amazingly he continued to spurt his come in smaller, but still copious jets onto her neck and her breasts as Heather licked and smiled and laughed in delight.
Finally, he was done. Gasping, he stood on the floor again, watching Heather grin at me in triumph.
“Happy, bitch?” He asked.
“Yes, thank you Brad.” She said, and then she just smiled some more, and then back at me, her face flushed, her breasts heaving, her fingers playing wither her swollen nipples, gently swirling his come around them.
“I don’t need to see this.” He grunted and, grabbing his pants, he lumbered from the room. I wasn’t sure where he was headed. I didn’t care.
“Come on hubby.” Cooed Heather. “We both know what you want to do. You’ve been so good. Come and get your reward.”
Her smile was electrifying. Knowing and powerful. She could see completely through me.
The sight of her come-covered face and chest was amazing. Gingerly I moved forward.
“No flinching Cary.” She warned. “Show me how you love this, or I won’t let you watch me any more.”
I gulped. I knew what she meant. Though this was something I’d fantasised about forever, I’d never really thought about what it would actually be like. I steeled myself, moved closer, and then, willing myself to do it, I eagerly licked a huge line of come that was beginning to dribble down  Heather’s breast. It was a little salty, but warm and musky. Heather’s smile deepened.
“That’s it. Good boy Cary. Like the man’s come off your wife tits. Lovely. Did you enjoy watching him fuck  me? Was it good?”
I couldn’t answer for a moment. I licked and slurped the thick jism from her breasts and then, she wiped the spurts of it from her cheecks and around her mouth, offereing her dripping fingers to my open mouth so I could suck it from her hand.
“MMmm. Nice spunk.” Murmured Heather. “Good boy for cleaning it all up. Good boy. Mommy is pleased with you. Are you happy that Mommy has a nice man to make fucky with her, are you? Good hubby.”
“Were you disspointed not to get to suck Brad’s spunk  from my pussy? Were you? Hmmm. Still, seeing me get a lovely facial must have made up for it a bit.
Now, me an Brad are going to go to bed together. You  clean up here, and when you hear us fucking again in our room, you can jerk yourself off. Okay? And in the morning, I’m sure Brad will have left a nice load of his spunk in my pussy for you to suck out again. Won’t you like that? Won’t you Cary? Yes. I know.”

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?