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Message-ID: <41008asstr$1045869005@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: vickietern@aol.com (VickieTern)
Subject: {ASSM} Taken in Adultery by Vickie Tern 3/9 TG femdom
Date: Fri, 21 Feb 2003 18:10:05 -0500
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The Man Taken in Adultery
Vickie Tern

                                iii. 

The next morning no Mercedes pulled out of Gail Hanover's driveway
-- her husband was still away I guessed.  But early on a Corvette
pulled in.  Some time later it left, and a short time after that a
pickup truck that visited until nearly noon, then left.  I could
only glimpse the drivers -- both men, one rather handsome and well
groomed, one a burly guy in a denim shirt with a huge beard.  Takes
all kinds, I thought.  The second guy doing repairs?  But at least
I wasn't doing the cheating, and I didn't intend to.  The bargains
we make with ourselves?  I was a bit shocked when at noon, just as
I was leaving the house, a little Escort turned into her driveway,
driven by a woman.  But what could I do?  I followed in that robe
she'd loaned me, feeling like an utter fool.

Even if she hadn't specified it I'd have come wearing that women's
robe -- no way was I going to leave it where Carrie might find it. 
When I arrived at the now-infamous front door with all the security
cameras trained on it, she called out "It's open, come in!"  And
when I came in I saw she was dressed in a robe like mine and seated
at an ornate desk in a study just off the front hall.  She was
leaning back in an executive desk chair, legs crossed, obviously
feeling comfortable.  "You're here on time, good!" she said when
she saw me.  "You look wonderful, sleep well?  Lunch is ready, but
you won't eat for about an hour.  I have work to finish.  Why don't
you go with Cora now, ah, here she is.  Cora is my masseuse. 
What's good is about to become better."  And she just sat there.

I turned around.  Cora was the woman in the Escort, tall, solidly
built, with a pleasant face, who took my hand and shook it the way
a man would.  It was a very strong hand, stronger than Gail's. 
"Gail's been telling me about you -- my but she has plans!"
Cora said.  "Let's get started!"

She took me to a guest bathroom somewhere in back and without a
moment's hesitation stripped me of my robe, then as I stood there
smeared me with pink cream, my dong hanging inches from her face
while she wiped whatever the stuff onto my legs.  She didn't seem
to notice.  "Very nice," she said.  "You're quite thin, shoulders
not too broad, and not much musculature.  That's helpful.  I can
see why Ms. Hanover wanted me to condition and tone your skin. 
You'll do very well."

"I'll do what very well?" I asked.  "What do you think she wants
with me?"  I had no idea where this was going.

"Oh, the same as with all her other men," Cora said.  "To play. 
Don't worry, she loves doing kinky things, but she's never yet had
an unsatisfied customer.  They get addicted I suppose.  At least
they all keep coming back."

I had some idea why apart from addiction, but said nothing.

"I've given lots of them massages while Ms. Hanover was recovering
from the things they'd done together.  Or they were recovering. 
But you're special.  She made that quite clear.  'Bobbi is
delicate, be gentle,' she said.  Spread your cheeks wide so I can
get some of this stuff between them.  That's good."

So here was the second strange woman in two days to take an
interest in my ass.  Carrie liked its shape.  She'd once told me it
was like a woman's.  She called me "bubble-butt" sometimes, teasing
me.  But she'd never run her fingers into my anus, as Gail had
done, or between the crack, as Cora was doing.

"Yes," she said.  "You'll do very well.  Now rinse off in the
shower."

Still wondering what I'd be doing "very well," I stepped in.  Hot
water cascaded down on me and the shower stall filled with steam,
so it wasn't until I stepped out and was met by Cora bearing a huge
terry towel that I realized I was now hairless!

"My God!" I said aloud.  "What will my wife think?"  My anxieties
returned all at once.

"She'll think you're gorgeous," Cora said complacently.  "Though
I'm sure she does already.  Now lie down on this table here -- I
have lots of creams and unguents for you.  Your skin looks
starved!" 

She began with one that had a distinct flowery aroma.  "There," she
said when she'd spread it.  "This permeates the whole epidermal
area, many layers down.  This scent lasts and lasts, for at least
a month, shower after shower, no matter how often you exfoliate. 
Your lovers will assume after a while that it's your body's natural
scent.  Ms. Hanover especially chose this one for you, "Floral 
Queen."  It's her own scent.  She likes it because it doesn't come off,
so her men don't carry it home to make wives suspicious about where 
they've been.  With this scent in your skin you won't ever need to
wear perfume when you're dressed to go out, not even a cologne."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, now even more worried.  I'd
decided to claim I'd lost all that hair in a charcoal fire starter
flashback, people do.  But this feminine smell?  Carrie couldn't
help but ask questions.  How could I explain it?  "I never use
perfume or cologne!"

"That's what I said," Cora said, unflapped.  "And now some
moisturizers."

I started to get up, but Cora's arms proved as strong as her hands. 
Her touch was gentle, but as she spread her emollients and balms
over my shoulders I found I couldn't lift them against the pressure
of her fingertips.  "Not yet," she'd say casually, rubbing
something into my bum.  "All right, now!  No don't sit up, just
roll over!"  And I was flat on my back before I even knew how I'd
gotten there, Cora spreading something on my face.

"Lucky there isn't much facial hair," she said.  "I've known women
with more.  This'll give you the softest complexion imaginable.
Like a baby's."  She smiled down. "I hear you like nursing on Ms.
Hanover.  Well, now your face will be as soft and smooth against
her skin as her breast is to yours.  You won't know which is
touching which.  That's how babies bond to their mommies.  Close
your eyes now, and keep them that way for maybe five minutes."  She
spread something on my eyelids too.   

Then as I lay there in the darkness, she began to massage a
somewhat stiffer ointment onto my nipples and the surrounding chest
tissue.  It felt nice.  It began to feel very nice, and I could
feel my prick begin to take notice and start to rise, fully visible
to her.  It distracted me a little from what she said next. 
"Premarin cream," she said.  "Estrogen in an adsorbent base.  Women
use it to lubricate their vaginas when they're past menopause. 
Some women think it'll grow their breasts bigger, but I've only
noticed a little improvement in the women I've used it on.  You'll
need more than a tube or two of it, I'd say, if this is how Ms.
Hanover means to get your figure up to par.  If that's what all
this is about.  I can't say I know."

Baffling!  I was about to ask her just what Ms. Hanover -- Gail --
had told her, when she grabbed my now partially erect cock with her
Premarin-coated plastic glove and began stroking it up and down. 
Oh, bliss!

"Try to hold off as long as you can, and let me know when you
can't," she said.  "I can always rub the cream into your balls
while we wait for this thing to cool down."  And as I gave a
warning groan, she did.

"What does that stuff do?" I asked as soon as I could talk.

"The estrogen makes your skin softer by hormonal suffusion instead
of just by plumping up the cells like ordinary skin creams," she
said calmly.  "She loves stroking soft skin.  She'll want me to
keep you soft this way if things between you work out.  This much
is only a lick and a promise to see if your body's interested. 
Your cock certainly is!  Let me take care of it for you.  You can
open your eyes now and watch, if you like."

And she began to stroke my cock, her hand coated in that thick
white cream, deliberately this time, her other hand now holding a
cup, of all things, ready to catch whatever I might squirt.  "Can't
use a condom, the way I usually do when I masturbate Ms. Hanover's
men to slow them down when they're too eager," she said.  "She
tells me she wants all the available estrogen in this cream to soak
into your balls and your prick, so they'll know right from the
beginning which hormones are the boss.  It'll soften the skin down
there too!  And maybe the whole tool?  Oh, that idea excites you
too, eh?  Well, here we go then!"  

She stroked one last time and held me firm, and I closed my eyes. 
It was glorious.  As I spurted, each spray arched up and fell
neatly into her cup.  She handed it to me.  "Here," she said. 
"Drink it down."

"Drink this?" I said, horrified.

"Yes," Cora said.  "Ms. Hanover specifically asked me to see to it. 
It isn't as if you haven't swallowed sperm before.  Just do it, and
don't make any problems."  She lifted my head with an iron forearm
on the back of my neck, and held the cup to my lips.  "Yes, that's
it."

Again, it was strange.  Lightly salted, but the texture was still
unfamiliar.  Like olive oil?  Like a raw egg white?  It seemed to
melt in my mouth.  Not unpleasant.  This was the strangest massage
I had ever had, I was thinking.  Cora now told me to stand, and
handed me my bathrobe.  Gail's robe.  "There, that's much better,"
she pronounced.

I was still in a late afterglow of my climax, but worried again.
 
"Do you think my wife will notice how my skin is now?" I asked
foolishly?

"Of course she will," Cora said.  "Any woman would.  You can tell
her that your flowery smell is now hers to enjoy, something to
share.  Isn't that the point?  So you can enjoy being closer?  Same
as with Ms. Hanover?"         

"I guess," I said.  But I was still worried as, with my skin plump
and smooth, softened and fragrant, I walked with Cora back to
Gail's office.  I wondered if Carrie would buy an argument like
that.  An emollient to help us feel closer.  It sounded like a
cosmetics ad.  Well, women do buy cosmetics, I told myself
hopefully.  Except that I'm a man.

Gail was still seated where I'd left her, and looked up brightly as 
we came in.

"Here he is again," Cora announced.  "All smooth and pretty as can
be."

"Well, not yet," Gail replied with a pleased smile,looking me over. 
"Though I love that eyelid treatment.  Dark and shiny.  It's rather
seductive, you know?  Come closer, honey!"

What eyelid treatment?  I hadn't looked at myself at all since Cora
began.  I came closer.  

Her hand reached into the opening of my bathrobe -- her bathrobe --
and took hold of my cock, now flaccid from its climax a few minutes
ago.  Even so, it began to stir.

"Mmm, that's so nice," she said half to herself.  "Smooth, and
hairless as newborn peaches soaked in cream.  I'd love to feel your
whole body against me while we hug each other to sleep.  If you're
willing to spend the night with me, that's what we'll do.  And
that's my scent, "Floral Queen," did you know that?  My signature
scent.  So fresh!  Now it's as if you belonged to me, isn't it.  As
if you were an extension of me.  Wearing my scent as if you were a
servant wearing my livery.  As if you were branded.  I like that."

"I'll go now," Cora interrupted.  "Our next session will be when?"

"I'll call," Gail said, entranced as she ran her hands over my
rising cock and under my hairless balls, then down the inside of my
thigh.  "In a day or two.  Probably two fairly athletic men,
straight massages but with special attention to their back muscles
-- I may try to wear them both out utterly in a single session. 
Oh, Bobbi, what I'm doing to you is such a turn-on for me!"  She
didn't seem to notice when Cora let herself out.

"Gail," I said, "I don't think...."

"'Ma'am,' now," she interrupted.  "Remember?"

"Ma'am," I began again.  I felt like such a fool, calling her that. 
But I had no choice.  She was the woman who had seduced me out of
my marriage vows to Carrie, who held the secret that could wreck my
marriage.  She was also one of the wealthiest women in town, and
Carrie's boss's boss, and his wife as well.  "Yes, ma'am," I said,
more respectfully.  "Ma'am, it's all very well, whatever it is you
want from me.  But there's no way my wife isn't going to get
suspicious now when she sees me.  Or feels my skin.  Or smells me. 
She'll know something's happening, and she'll find out, trust me,
and I'll lose her.  Even though we're not having an affair,
exactly.  Even though I'm getting in deeper just by trying to keep
from getting in deeper!"

"Well, there was yesterday, after all," Gail observed, looking
brightly at me, though now running her fingertips across my chest. 
"But that was only a tumble, not an affair, I suppose.  A trial run
to see how well you handle.  Mmmmm!  That hormone cream gives your
breasts the strangest texture, have you felt them yet?  You do feel
marvelous, Bobbi!  Scrumptious!  Now, don't worry about your wife,
Carrie's her name, isn't it.   I have her personnel folder here,
and I know her.  She ran several projects for me, and very
successfully, too.  She's resourceful and clever.  I see she's
already on our fast track, sure to be promoted soon.  There's
already a note in her file to that effect."

Was this a bribe?  She was saying that Carrie would benefit as long
as I cooperated?

"Of course she'll have to earn it.  Nothing comes free or for
extracurricular favors rendered."

No, it wasn't a bribe.  It was encouragement.  I felt gratified by
that.

"But at her level, she'll need your full support.  She'll need to
keep her mind clear to concentrate on her work.  That's your
responsibility.  Families of associates like Carrie need to go that
extra mile to help them, then volunteer to go another mile still. 
That kind of loyalty is always rewarded."

It was a bribe.   

"I don't want Carrie to leave me," I said simply.  "So I don't want
her to know.  I did a terrible thing yesterday, and I can't seem to
rise out of it.  There are strange things happening here.  I'm not
saying they aren't pleasant.  Some are very pleasant."  Any woman
wants to feel her efforts are appreciated, I was thinking.  Gail is
no different.  Keep going on this track.  "Yesterday was
wonderful," I added.  "I want to go along with whatever else you
have in mind.  But if I could feel less guilty and enjoy these ...
sessions more, you'd enjoy them more too.  Isn't that true?"

"Yes, I imagine you do now want to 'go along,' for more than one
reason.  But what makes you think there will be 'sessions,' plural,
Bobbi.  How do you know this one isn't the last?"  She sounded
severe.  Obviously, she didn't like being predictable.

"You told me.  You told me to keep tomorrow open as well as today. 
And you didn't make my body feel like a princess's and smell like
a flower garden just for today.  You're playing with me.  You said
as much."

Her face broke into a pleased smile.  "You do remember, don't you. 
And you're always thinking!  Marvelous, see that you keep it up,
it's tiresome explaining things to men who never realize their
balls now belong to someone else!  Some of my men can only hear
what their little heads tell them.  For a good reason -- their big
heads have nothing to say.  Well, let me tell you.  First of all,
it's true, I intend to invest a certain amount of time and
attention in you.  You're conveniently located and I love
convenience.  Also, your determination to remain faithful to your
wife opens some wonderful possibilities about other more
imaginative ways we can play.  And I do love to play.  There will
be substantial returns in the form of satisfaction for me and
appreciation for you.  Are you with me so far?"

"Yes, ma'am."  I tried to make it sound ironic, not respectful, and
failed.

"Don't worry about your wife.  Just do everything I ask to the best
of your ability, without questioning any of it.  It'll be fun, I
guarantee it.  And you'll be investing in Carrie's future, so
she'll appreciate it too."

I looked doubtful.  Grave.  Carrie would sacrifice her husband for
her career?  I doubted it.  On the other hand, that's what I was
doing for her, wasn't I?

"Trust me.  Let me be even more blunt.  Tomorrow you'll fuck me
again.  Because I'll want to be laid by the kind of person you'll
be tomorrow, there aren't too many of you.  And to relieve your
mind, I'll arrange it so Carrie knows everything.  Maybe even
watches.  Is that so shocking?  I promise you, I'll arrange it
so she won't object, and she may even feel pleased."

I was dumbfounded!  I gawked!

"Oh, it'll change your marriage somewhat, of course, but I promise
you it won't end it -- in fact it should make it all the more
enjoyable!  You two will still live together happily ever after,
and love each other more with each passing year, and so on, as far
as any arrangement with me is concerned.  And Carrie will get full
professional recognition for her loyalty to the firm's needs, and
you'll get full credit for your loyalty to her professional
prospects.  She'll certainly appreciate that!"  

Was this sexual harassment?  No, it couldn't be, I was thinking. 
I'm not employed by Hanover Associates, and Gail wasn't asking me
urge Carrie to do anything.  But it was intimidation, sort of,
nevertheless.  "She'll never consent, ma'am," I said.  "Never.  And
if you try to bribe or threaten her she'll only get furious.  I
know."

'Well, if she does mind you fucking me, or if it appears that she'd
mind, then it just won't happen.  You'll be absolved.  Does that
sound fair to you?"

What could I say?  I nodded.  Then realized what I'd just done. 
I've agreed to an infidelity if Carrie approves of it.  Never mind
whether I'd approve or not.  My fidelity was based not on a
conviction about the sanctity of marriage but on fear.  I was a
disgrace.  Carrie couldn't avoid reaching that conclusion.

She relaxed.  "Then it's settled, Bobbi honey.  Time to seal our
understanding with a kiss.  Why don't you go down on your knees
again and kiss my pussy.  Since you won't fuck me, that's where you
belong -- I've been waiting to welcome you there all the time
you've been with Cora.  Remember, you decided yesterday that you'd
rather kneel in front of me than go to bed with me?"

What could I do?  I knelt down in front of her as she sat in her
desk chair, just like yesterday, and kissed her thigh in homage,
like yesterday.  She scrunched forward until her crotch was over
the edge of the chair, and then spread her legs wide.  She wasn't
wearing panties.  Her quim looked swollen, and I saw a cloudy fluid
oozing out of it now that she'd opened her thighs.  A puddle formed
quickly on the front edge of her chair.  

Oh, God!  Those two visitors this morning!  The Corvette and the
SUV, they'd left this behind when they'd driven off!  This wasn't
my semen this time, it was theirs.  She'd been fucked by two men
and had been keeping their cum warm for me.  And this is what she
wants me to do for her from now on?  She thinks Carrie won't mind,
that Carrie will appreciate me afterward?  Lunacy!  What would
Carrie actually think of me if she knew that I'd done this.  Is a
cumsucker much different from a cocksucker?  What would I think of
me?  Would there be an afterward?  Is this really what Ms. Hanover
wants from me, to douche her cunt with my tongue whenever she fucks
other men?  Why would Carrie ever want to remain married to a hired
cuntlapping cumsucker, a licker up of other men's cum in other
women's cunts, fees on request?

"It's lunch time, Bobbi," Gail gently reminded me, as I stared at
two pearly blebs suspended between the hairs that scarcely veiled
her slit.    

I leaned forward and touched my tongue to the little puddle on the
chair in front of her pussy.  Then to her pussy.  Then curled it
into my mouth and swallowed.  Slick and salty, same syrupy feel,
not much different from my own.  This was plainly another step
toward something on Gail's mind.  Best not to think what.

"Yes, ma'am," I said.  Then I leaned in all the way, and again took
this woman by the hips to hold her cunt firmly against my mouth,
and just as if it were my own, but knowing it wasn't, I licked, and
ate, and lapped, and drank, and sucked, and nibbled, and swallowed,
and licked some more.  Gail draped her legs voluptuously over my
shoulders while she lay back and moaned and occasionally cried out,
and once again seemed to be gasping for breath.  All the while I
was tasting those cloudy fluids, those pearly pooled blobs and
globules and drippings from the pricks and balls of others, feeling
the slick gloop spread across my lips and the insides of my cheeks,
and swallowing it as rapidly as I could.

Then when she seemed to be pristine, it was over.  I leaned my
forehead hard against her open pussy with my eyes closed.  I
remained still, kneeling there between her thighs, breathing in her
smells, my head down.  I felt so sad.  I'd sucked up other men's
cum.  From inside another woman.  I'd crossed a deep valley somehow,
and was in another country, my wife far behind on the other side.

end 3/9
VickieTern@AOL.COM

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Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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