An Unfaithful Wife



9/13


"Oooh!" she then said with almost awed reverence.  "Just stay there
a little bit longer, my sweet darling, my beautiful girl, only
another moment!"  

She was coming down now, after the most glorious, wrenching orgasm
I'd ever seen.  Her thighs loosened.  She relaxed.  Her breathing
almost became normal.  Then she draped her legs casually over my
shoulders, as if suddenly I'd become merely a pillow or a
footstool.  "Yes," she said, partly to herself.  "Here's where I
want you.  Forever and ever, always.  Just where you are.  I'll
never ever let you leave me!  You are my only true love!"

Now finally able to breathe real air into my lungs, even though my
nostrils were still clogged with thick cunt cum, I hoped that's all
it was, I suddenly realized that while she was sprawled back on the
bed like a princess, exactly as she'd wanted to be, I was still
reverently on my knees on the floor in front of her.  That I'd been
on my knees the whole time she'd ascended into the heavens, that
I'd been worshipping her divinity from below.  Or worshipping her
pussy.  Or worshipping those floods of pussy fluid I'd swallowed so
avidly.  My stomach felt strange.

"Cassie," I said when her breathing had become regular.  She was
looking down at me affectionately yet dispassionately, as if at a
cherished pet.  "Cassie, I love it that this was so wonderful for
you.  But you were gushing!"  I hesitated, but realized I had to
say it.  "Was that all you I was sucking out of you?"

She closed her eyes and spoke into the air.  "Oh, the ideas you get
in your pretty little head, my darling dollface!  My angel!  My
pretty girly lover!  You're wonderful!  Come up and lie here beside
me, and let's cuddle.  I want to look at you!"  She lifted her legs
off my shoulders and spread them wide alongside me.  "But first,
give me one last lick and kiss!"

I leaned forward and licked her clit, then planted a chaste peck on
it.  "Mmmmmm," she said, pleased.  Then I climbed up to lie
alongside her.  My face and hair were pomaded with those slick,
sweet, salty, sticky exudations.  This hadn't been what I imagined
women did with women.  Maybe they did.

She began to kiss my sloppy face as soon as my I came in range,
licking my cheeks, lips, both eyelids, then again my mouth, licking
even as she pulled away to look at me.  She didn't mind what it
was.  So how could I?

"Yes," she said dreamily.  "It's all still there.  Your eyes are
still beautiful!  You could wash all that cum off your face and we
could both go out to dinner together without either of us
retouching anything.  Even your lips are still delectably red." 
And she kissed me again devotedly.  "Did you like that, baby?"

"Yes," I answered truthfully.  "Not as much as you did, but I
especially loved the way you enjoyed it."

She kissed me again gratefully, as if I'd paid her a courtly
compliment.

But what was it I'd wallowed in?  Better to ask indirectly. 
"Honey, you were so very wet!"

"For you, honey.  All for you!"

That was unthinkable, but I had to persist.  "Could it have been
Jerry's?  I don't see how, but there was so much of it!  Like on
our wedding night when I'd made love to you three times, and then
went down on you ..." -- I decided I'd better joke -- "to pay my
respects."

I hadn't managed to ask a question I hadn't myself answered, so she
didn't answer.  She seemed not to hear me.  Instead she reached
down and took hold of my penis, still bone-stiff.  Achingly stiff! 
"Oooh, your clit is still so excited," she said.  And she began to
pull on it, stroking slowly.  "My darling girl needs her orgasm now
too.  Let me help!"  And her hand wrapped tightly around my cock
and began to pull it in an even rhythm.  Slowly.  Out and in.  I
began to feel pleasure rise up into it.

I didn't want to interrupt, but I was losing concentration, and
needed to make one last attempt.  "Was it all you I was licking
up?" I asked weakly.

"All for you, my lovely angel."  And she kissed me again, her hand
never losing the rhythm, pulling and pushing my prick, out and in
....  "All my gift to you.  To celebrate our first night of love as
women."

"Yes," I said.  "There was so much.  And it tasted like ... was
it..."  I had to come out with it!  "Almost like ... you know?"  I
couldn't!

"Did you love it, my precious?"  Her hand kept pumping.  "You
looked so marvelously happy, licking it all out of me.  It was
glorious!"

Was that answer a hint? 

"It tasted like ...." I tried to be diplomatic but now I could
hardly think straight.  My mind was fixated.  Had she fucked Jason? 
Was that Jason I'd been drinking out of her?  Had she done that to
me?  Was Jason's seed now planted deep in my belly?   

Her hand pumped me and pumped me!  I moaned slightly.  She smiled
and kissed the tip of my nose, and her hand never stopped moving.

I finally decided to play along.  "Glorious, yes," I finished my
sentence.  I had to say it!  "Like sperm.  Like me when I suck me
out of you.  Like Jerry.  Like some man's!"

"Ohh, there you go, lover, I knew you'd love it.  I knew you'd
enjoy thinking there was man juice in me.  Wasn't it nice?"  

And she pumped and pulled and then pressed a whole fistfull of cock
against its root.  A joyous sensation swelled up alongside that
strange feeling in my belly!   It grew larger, and began to seep
into my groin.  I was very near.
*
"Cassie,"  I gasped.  Oh, God!  "Cassie, was it sperm?  Jason's? 
Anyone's?"

Her hand never slowed.  And now her other hand came up and gently
touched the tips of my nipples, one after the other, and flicked
them delicately, then again.  Her hand was cupping one of my
breasts as if I had one.  I was melting.  My mind was dissolving.

"You do want to believe it, don't you sweetheart!  Well, you sweet
girl, you've tasted it before.  Surely you know.  Did you taste a
man in there?"

Oh, terrible teasing me, maybe, and now a delicious joy filled my
whole groin!  Pull, push, pump, in, out!  I rose toward climax. 
And as I began to lose control, arching my back in a tense,
all-too-brief visit to paradise, she asked, "Don't you love it? 
All women love it!  You've swallowed it by the gallon now, your
own, and Mr. D's, and Jerry's, and it's made you my girl, the girl
I love so dearly.  Don't you want more?  More?  A real man's cock? 
Real fresh cum from a real man's cock?  Tell me that's what you
want!"

And I couldn't help it!  "Oh!" I cried.  As I began spurting and
spurting and spurting, I could cry out only, "Oh, Yes!  Yes,
Cassie!  Yes!!"

"Yes," Cassie said as I came down, with a satisfied smile and yet
something more lurking in her face.  "Yes.  Yes.  I knew you would. 
You shall have it!   All the real cum any girl could ever want. 
It's time to move on.  I have young associates in my firm who'd be
delighted to meet you.  A pretty young girl like you, if they could
believe that's what you are.  Each with a different cock, each with
its own flavor.  You'd love them all."

How did my attempt to confirm a suspicion about Cassie's pussy
juice become a request to suck on actual cocks?  Was it Jason's? 
Was it even real?  Maybe she'd salted her motherlode with Jerry's
goop?  It did seem to taste a little different, and different from
my own too. Yet it could have been ... anything.

"Oh, sweetheart, look at you, you're still naked!  Here, you poor
dear, put on your nightie and then let's  go to sleep."

Out from the drawer in her bedside table she pulled out a babydoll
matching the one she was wearing.  "Isn't this sweet?" she asked,
smiling happily.  "Now we're the same, the dearest of girlfriends,
all snug together.  Slip this on, love.  Lift your arms."

"Cassie," I said weakly as I raised my arms and she dropped the
smooth, flimsy nylon babydoll with lacy trim over my head.  "I
sucked Mr. D and Jerry, because you've wanted me to, and it's been
... nicer than I'd expected.  But I don't want to suck a real cock. 
I'd feel ...."

She lay with her head on my chest.  "Yes, darling.  I know.  It
would destroy my sweetheart's manhood utterly, wouldn't it?  The
humiliation?  Unbearable!  But even so, you would, part of you
wants to, doesn't it?  Remember what you confessed to me once?"  

She turned her head slightly and began to blow on one of my nipples
while she stroked the other under my babydoll.  They were more
erogenous than ever!  An incredible yearning suffused my body!  I
let out a helpless little squeal.  

"The part of you that loves that idea is a girl, becoming more of
a girl every day.  It isn't my man who sucks other men's cocks. 
You decided not to be gay, remember?  And I honor that decision. 
It's my girl who wants to suck other men's cocks and learn how to
become a woman!  I know you'll love them!  I've seen you lose
yourself with Jerry's cock, sweetheart.  The cocks I can find for
you aren't as big as Jerry's I'm sure, but probably so much more
... cute!  So much more like yours!  It would be like sucking your
own cock.  I know you'll love them!"

My nipples were now erect, poking up through the babydoll nylon
like fat nubbins, and Cassie was now dedicating her fingertips to
them as if they were clits.  They felt marvelous!  I could feel my
limp cock begin to feel useful again.  "You said you would," she
continued, stroking my nightie and nipples.  "And you will.  You
love Jerry's, don't deny it.  A real man's is so much more
satisfying.  So smooth and silky.  My sweetheart!  You'll thank me
afterward, see if you don't."  And she kissed my nipple right
through the nylon, and rested her head gratefully on my bosom.  And
then almost instantly fell asleep.

A real man's is so much more satisfying?  How would she know?  Had
she ...?  

I suddenly realized that wasn't an issue.  She'd sucked my cock
often enough.  That's how she'd knew.  Of course.  Why hadn't I
realize that?   Why hadn't I assumed she meant my cock?  Could it
be because I don't think of myself as a real man any more?  Do I
believe she doesn't think I'm a real man either?   Because she
calls me a girl?  Because I have such feelings of joy that I'm a
girl?  Her girl?

What has she been doing to me?  This is witchcraft!  Making me
believe I'm not a real man!  Turning me into a girl!

I finally decided that she was arousing that sweet, sorrowful,
increasingly intense, jealous fear of humiliation in my belly, the
fear of losing my manhood, because she loves me.  And what could
most likely have made her so wet lately?  Me!  Of course.  She's
been turned on by my desire to please her no matter how
humiliating!  By her ability to turn on that desire!  She's right,
it is torment.  But I do love it!  I want more of it!

Without thinking, I dipped a finger into my own cum where it had
puddled and soaked into a wet spot on the sheets.  And then I
licked that finger.  The flavor was similar to Jerry's, and surely
also to the flavor I'd just found in her cunt.  So, is my wife an
adulteress after all?  Am I a confirmed cuckold?  I was sure the
aroma and texture were like what I'd just licked out of her. 
Nearly sure.  Perhaps.  But maybe not at all.

"My sweet girl," came Cassie's sleepy voice.  I looked down and saw
that her eyes were open.  She'd been watching me.  "You do love the
flavor, don't you.  But that finger will never fill your mouth like
a real cock.  Just wait."

I didn't respond.  She'd confessed nothing.  All her hinted sex
with other men could still be pretend sex intended to titillate me. 
Will it stay this way?  She wants it this way.  It excites her,
this power over me.  If I don't continue down this path, will she
seek out another man, another actual man who is willing to satisfy
her kinky desires?  Will she abandon her wimp husband?   Could I be
that other man too?  Or another woman?  Does she want me to become
that other woman?  Can I ever escape this silken web?

I had to see where it was she was taking me.  Meanwhile I now knew
she was right.  The more humiliated, the more merely used I felt,
the more rapturous!  The more joyously ecstatic!


***********


The next morning she kissed me immediately on waking up and
suggested we shower together, "like two girls who've just felt the
first delicate fingers of love caress them."  We soaped each other
down and ran our hands all over each other's bodies in child-like
delight, the way teenagers do when they first discover there can be
such delights.  It was a Saturday -- we took our time.  When Cassie
finally went off to dress she handed me her bottle of body lotion
and asked me to use it, but first to shave my whole body so I'd
feel as smooth and silky as I had under the shower.  I did.  It
felt nice.  No problem, though the lotion did smell a bit flowery. 
A girl's smell, but she wanted me that way.  Women like flowery
scents, I reasoned, so this way she'll like me all the more.  

As I shaved my face I saw that my lipstick and eye make-up were
still in place, not even smudged.  Experimentally, I fluffed my
hair to see the effect.  I did look effeminate.  No, not
effeminate, let's face it, I looked feminine, girlish, and that's
what it had pleased her to call me.  All right, this was our new
pretend game.

I went into the bedroom, and still wrapped in my towel I sat down
next to her on her vanity bench.  She smiled a greeting at me in
the mirror while I looked over all the bottles, tubes, vials, and
pads spread out before her.  

"Next time wrap your towel higher, baby," she said.  "Your nipples
are showing.  They give me wicked ideas.  Have I told you yet how
lovely you smell?" 

I grinned.  She was still teasing me, but that was fine!  "Honey,
are any of these bottles for removing my make-up?" I asked her.

She put down a large fluffy brush she'd been using to pink her
cheeks.  "Oh, sweetheart," she said.  "You don't want to do that! 
Not today!  Remove your make-up?  You look so cute!  And we're
going out later!"

I looked in the mirror.  "Cassie, I look like a girl, done up like
this!"

She beamed approval at my reflection.  "Exactly!  Jerry's
girlfriend is now my girl!  Full time!  From now on every time you
go down on me.  Every time we make love.  Tonight, tomorrow, every
time from now on.  Sometimes on no notice!  So do leave it on,
it'll save us a lot of bother.  Here, let me show you how to
refresh it!"

She picked up a mascara wand, the fresh mascara on it still
glistening, and turned toward me.  

"Cassie, whenever you'd like me to be your girl and wear make-up,
of course I will.  But otherwise I don't think so."

"Honey, I'd like you to.  I want you to get accustomed to seeing
yourself in make-up.  To love what you see.  So you don't look
quite right to yourself when you're not wearing it."

I still felt stubborn.  She looked at me with her blank, earnest
face, and added, "Honey, I'm trying to help us!  I want us to stay
together.  I don't want to lose you!  I'm looking for every
conceivable way I can think of to keep you, to make you happier
with me than with any other woman in the world.  So you'll really
and truly be mine!  Please?"

That was not quite what she'd ever said before.  It was unexpected. 
My sweet Cassie's voice actually sounded desperate!  What was
happening?

I thought I'd better talk in a conciliatory manner.  "And my
looking like a pretty girl will make me happy?" I asked.

"Being one.  I know it will!"  She sounded vehement.  

I looked at her, even more surprised.  She then seemed to back off. 
"Not just because you're already pretty, love, and you wiggle so
fetchingly when you walk, and you're already habituated to
cocksucking and cuntlapping both, though those are all good reasons
why a pretty girl should feel happy.  Because you love compromising
your manhood!  Because you know you're happiest when you're most
humiliated and emasculated, and that's when I'm happiest too!  And
you love making me happy!  Are those good reasons?"  

She then tried making light of it.  "Think of this too.  There's
also Jerry.  He doesn't seem to care whether it's a man or a woman
who's sucking his cock.  Persuade him to prefer women!"

I pressed her further.  "Why does humiliating or emasculating me
make you happy, Cassie?"

She was silent.  Then, "You know.  Because you love it, and I love
you.  I know deep down you want it, and I want you to have
everything you want, so I want to liberate you from whatever denies
you what you want.  And I have fantasies too.  I'd love it if you
were more like me, my dearest friend as well as my soulmate.  Manly
men are everywhere, but a man who sacrifices his manliness because
his beloved wants him to?  Priceless!"

She looked thoughtful, then added, "And I can't deny it, I like how
it feels, being in charge, working my will and my wiles on you.  I
love it, that I can actually do this to you, change your gender
identity in your own mind.  Because I can.  Because that's how I
am."  She paused again.  "Are those enough reasons?"  

I didn't answer her, so she continued.

"People are more complicated than we know.  Tell me this.  Why do
you like to imagine I'm having sex with other men when you don't
need to, and you don't know that I do, and you don't want to know,
and it's possible or probable that I don't?"

"I don't like to!  I hate it!  It drives me crazy!"

"Then why do you do it?  Because you love being driven crazy?  Yes! 
Because to feel helplessly jealous is a sexual desire as intense as
any you've ever felt.  You get off on it, that's why you do it. 
Why would you torment yourself otherwise?  There's no evidence. 
There's no smoking gun."

I was silenced.  I saw her point.

"Well, maybe that's why I want you to think it's true that I really
am fucking better men behind your back.  Because it's exciting for
you.  Because it's exciting for both of us!"

"And is it true?"

"What do you think?"  

I had no answer I could share with her.  A long silence followed.

Then Cassie resumed earnestly, "Honey, think of it this way.  When
you're being a woman for me, you're less of a man.  Less deserving
of me in your own eyes.  That's when it's easier for you to imagine
I'd prefer someone who's more of a man.  Isn't that so?"

Reluctantly, I had to answer "Yes." 

She held out her arms.  "That's why I want you to be a woman for
me.  Not just so you'll torture yourself with your own supposed
inadequacy, but to move you past all that stuff into another world
altogether!  Where it no longer matters!  Where you no longer need
to imagine anything!  You're my own true dear, and I love you with
all my heart, and I've told you repeatedly that I'll never leave
you and I'll never want you to leave me.  But you must accept this. 
My love for you has nothing to do with your manliness.  In any man
to man competition with most of the men I know, you'd lose!  Think
of Jason, with his far better body and more decisive personality. 
Think of even poor dumb Jerry, with his huge cock and compliant
disposition, who does whatever anyone asks him to do.  They're both
more manly!  Honey, don't even try to compete!   Don't torment
yourself!  Yes, be my husband sometimes, but be my girlfriend all
the time!  You'll love it!  We both will!"

My resistance evaporated.  And as that happened I became euphoric. 
I wanted her to close her arms around me.  "Cassie," I said.  "I
don't understand what you've uncovered in me, but all right.  I'll
do what you want.  Whatever it takes!"

She held back a moment.  "'Whatever it takes?'  Is that what you
said?"

"Yes.  I trust you.  I want what you want."

"Oh, sweetheart!"  She hugged me, and I hugged her, and we hugged
each other for the longest time.  It was so beautiful!

She pulled back suddenly, her eyes sly, also playful.  "You know,
it just occurs to me, if you're willing to become my girlfriend,
you won't need to wonder whether I'm having extramarital sex or
not.  If I am, I can take you along to watch!"

She was joking.  "If you are," I said, "why not take me along to
watch just as I am?"

She playfully slapped my cheek.  "You just don't understand men, do
you sweetheart?  The men we're talking about would never allow
another man to watch.  Suppose one of them wants to take me to his
hotel room.  Would he want to take another man to?  Whereas all a
woman needs to say is 'Oh, goodie, do you mind terribly if I
watch?' and no man could ever refuse.  This isn't love after all,
it's sex.  Voyeurism adds to the excitement.  Another woman
watching, what man could resist?"

She was right.  And that sobered me up.

"I wouldn't want you to do that, Cassie.  Whether I'm watching or
not."

"Of course you wouldn't want me to.  But you do know I could do it,
any time.  Just think how you'd feel if I did it while you were
watching.  Terrible, helplessly lost, I'm sure.  All those things
we've talked about.  You get a hollow feeling in the pit of your
stomach just from thinking about it.  You probably have one now."

"Yes."

"But you'd also be thrilled beyond belief!  You know that!  Isn't
your cock straining even now at the idea of it?  Have you ever felt
more vital?"  

She knew.  She leaned over and kissed me sweetly on the lips, small
pecks, over and over.  Her downward glance confirmed the obvious,
that my prick was rigid to the point of pain.  "So beautiful.  So
helpless.  You're almost ready," she said.  "Isn't feeling helpless
beautiful?  Just wait!  I promise you, girlfriend, one of these
days, if it turns out I'm having sex with anyone other than you,
I'll take you along to watch.  You will see it, I promise. 
There'll be no more tormenting yourself with speculations and
suspicions.  You'll know.  You'd like that, wouldn't you?" 

I didn't know.  I just stared at her.  Cassie saw the fear, the
panic, but also the lurking readiness in my eyes, and nodded.  "I
promise," she whispered, and she kissed me once again.

Then she turned all business.  "Sit down then."

I did.  She held back for a moment, doubtful.  Then spoke.

"You want tits, honey.  Without them you won't feel quite right. 
You won't look womanly.  No matter how pretty you may turn out, I
won't feel right about you.  Does that give you pause?"

It did, but I hesitated only a moment.  If she wanted to buy me
breast forms, sure.  I'd make a more convincing woman that way. 
"Yes," I said.  "It gives me pause.  But I still want what you
want."  

Cassie was again impressed.  Her eyes had tears in them.  As I
kissed away them away she whispered, "Thank you, darling!  I hoped
you'd say that!  I do love you, I do, I do!"

What could I say after that?  I was hers.  I'd placed myself
altogether in her hands.  And she was far from done.

She refreshed my make-up.  She wordlessly handed me her white
panties, her bridal panties, her deal-closing panties, even though
they were still a little stained from whatever she'd done
yesterday.  With Jason.  If anything.  I felt a twinge of arousal
just thinking about it, and I'm sure that was Cassie's intention. 
I put them on as if an insignia of rank.  

Then came the matching bra from that same set.  "Your first bra,
sweetheart," she said.  "It was my first as a married woman, and
now its your first too.  I hope you'll be as happy with it as
you've made me."  

It felt a little tight, but when she pulled my nearby chest flab
into the cups, it remained there.  I had small mounds on my chest. 
She studied them.  "Yes," she said.  And glanced at me and said
nothing more.