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Message-ID: <47161asstr$1079741403@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: vickietern@aol.com (VickieTern)
Subject: {ASSM} Wife by Vickie Tern 4/13 TG femdom
Lines: 542
Date: Fri, 19 Mar 2004 19:10:03 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

An Unfaithful Wife
by Vickie Tern


4/13



In the morning, I awoke to find we were still wrapped in each
other's arms."  I kissed her.  My bone rose.  She reached under my
nightshirt to hold it gently.  "There's still more of that lover's
sperm in me," she said.  "Finish it off now."

Could I complain about that?  She didn't seem interested in
releasing my penis nor in mounting me, so I turned around until my
shoulders lay on her hips, and I then dipped my head between her
legs.  She spread them wide to admit me, then gently closed her
thighs over my ears.  I was alone in the dark with her pussy.  I
licked and sucked it, and more cum did came out.  Thicker, stronger
in aroma.  Fishier.  I licked, and then realized that Cassie was
getting into it again -- her hips had begun to rotate, rise, and
fall, and finally as her legs clamped tight on my head I felt her
spasm.  A whole mouthful of dense cum pushed out into my mouth. 
Rich, salty, fishy, slightly sweet, like thick phlegm.  I swallowed
it as her legs relaxed, and from the head of the bed I heard a deep
sigh of contentment.

As I straightened out she let go my prick, and I realized she'd
only held it, not once taken it into her mouth though her mouth was
right there, not even pumped it.  Only held it.  She saw me staring
at that hand.  It was still curled, holding the memory of it.  

"I know what you're thinking," she said.  "I didn't suck you or
pull you to climax because I love it when you're horny like this. 
I love it when you feel that satisfying me is more important than
satisfying yourself.  I love it that you want more.  Maybe I should
always keep you like this, hard up and eager to please."  

She paused.  "Well, no, I do love the fucking.  But I want you to
become a connoisseur of cum, the fresh kind and the overnight kind
and the all day kind.  There was a difference you could detect,
wasn't there?  You could tell, couldn't you?"

"Yes," I said. 

"Good," she said.  "From now on I'll want oral sex after we make
love, not before.  Sometimes just after, sometimes a day or two
after.  Sex with me will always mean cum in your mouth for you.  I
want you to learn to tell the age of any fluids in my cunt by its
taste."

"Why, Cassie?"  I'd myself been surprised by the difference in
flavor and viscosity.

"So you can tell by taste alone when it was I last lay with a
lover.  If you're going to imagine me with other men, you'll need
hints and clues  like that to worry about, won't you?  What could
be more humiliating than sucking and swallowing another man's cum
out of your own wife?"  

I decided to let that pass.  I still had a boner.  I pressed it
against her.  

She noticed, of course.  "That excites you, that idea?  How about
going gay?  You'd suck a man's cock if I asked you to, you've
admitted that already, but how about everything else?  How about
the same question you put to me last night?  Do you ever imagine
yourself in bed with a man, fucking him or getting fucked by him?"

My bone collapsed.  My gorge rose.  "No," I said.  "I'm not a
woman."

"Well, that's no obstacle," she said breezily.  "Not if you're
seeking ways to feel humiliated, not now that we both know that
thinking I'm unfaithful turns you on.  We need to cultivate other
similar shameful secrets in you.  Do think about sex with a man,
sweetie.  It can be really lovely.  I know.  It's something else we
could share.  And it would help you understand how I feel about
you, how any woman feels about her man."  She smiled a secret
smile.  "I certainly love it, thinking about it and doing it.  As
you well know!"

"Of course," I said.  "You're a girl.  It's only natural."

"Natural," she repeated.  And she took a deep breath, kissed me,
and rolled out of bed to get ready for the day.  "If anyone does
anything, that makes it natural."  

Nothing else was said until she was halfway out the front door. 
Then she turned and said, "Think about cute guys today, baby. 
Masturbate with a few in mind.  I want you to.  I'll ask you about
it when I get home tonight.  Try to imagine yourself with a guy who
has blonde curly hair and a really devastating grin.  Try to
imagine his penis in your hand while you pleasure him, then in your
mouth.  Then try to imagine what you'd do with it once it was in
your mouth.  A few times today!  Promise?"

"Cassie!"

"Promise!"

"Well, OK.  All right, I will.  But I'm not gay!"

"No one's gay till they're gay.  How do you know what you are yet? 
Maybe I should bring you home a dildo to practice with?  Or a real
man?  Remember, you've already confessed that you'd suck another
man's cock if he'd just fucked me and I asked you to do it.  That
sounds a teeny weeny bit gay to me, doesn't it to you?  Just try
imagining that.  Maybe it'll take hold.  Who knows?" 

As she closed the door, she called out, "If you really can't manage
to do a guy as a guy, then do him as a girl!  Imagining you're a
girl.  Imagining you're me, if you must!  Works for me!"

She'd asked, and I'd promised, so that whole day I tried.  I got
very little work done.  I tried to pretend that the men leaving
those ambiguous phone messages were cute guys propositioning me,
not businessmen talking to Cassie.  I imagined myself shaking hands
with them, chatting with them, dancing with them the way I'd seen
gay men dance together, letting one of them feel my ass, then going
somewhere private and kissing them passionately, and then unzipping
them.  And then ....  Well, one after another, no go.  I couldn't. 
Not as a man with another man.  There were no dark secrets deep
within me about other men.  I felt disgusted every time I tried to
imagine a cock in my mouth whether for his pleasure or mine. 
Especially a stiff cock pulsing cum into my mouth.  Even my own
cock and my own cum.  And poking into an ass, or getting poked? 
Not possible.

So I tried to put myself in Cassie's shoes, those high-heels she
usually wore to the office, and I tried to imagine myself flirting
with her callers the way she did, tossing my head and my wrist,
glancing at men sideways as if amused, raising my eyebrows when
they propositioned me, driving them wild with delight merely by
nodding approval.  That was a little better.  I jerked off several
men that way, but I still couldn't imagine them in my mouth.  One
guy I conjured up tried to get into my ass all on his own.  I just
patted his cheek gently and told him that part was off limits. 

Then I tried to imagine that the voices on the phone were other
women with deep voices, each trying to lure me -- Cassie -- into a
more intimate relationship.  That was a little better.  Again I
felt coy, and a bit shy too, but at odd moments I became genuinely
flirtatious.  That was a new sensation for me, and sort of nice. 
It gave me a sense of power.  One woman actually left a message
that said, "I love everything about you, Cassie.  It's time we let
our hair down and really got to know each other privately. Tuesday
afternoon in my hotel room at one o'clock OK?."  I played it over
and over, feeling not threatened but pleased, anticipating what we
could do together.  It got quite hot.

When Cassie got home she said nothing at first, just looked at me
quizzically, waiting.  Then, "Well?  Do we keep our promises?"

I told her everything.  "I tried cute guys, but they did nothing
for me.  Then the men who leave your telephone messages.  But I
couldn't do them, it made me nauseous.  Then I imagined I was you
with them, and that was a little better -- at least then I could
flirt, and feel pleased when they propositioned me."

"Did you try being yourself as a girl?"

"No, only as you."

"Poor baby," she said.  "You're too inhibited.  You're you, not me. 
I guess if you must be a girl, you should be your own girl.  The
voicemail men and women are all my men and women remember, not
yours.  You don't even know them.  I think you should imagine
you're you're own girl and then try a few imaginary men on for
size.  Here, this may help.  Just wait a moment."

She went into the kitchen, and I heard the micro beep, and other
kitchen noises.  Then she returned with a sly grin and said, "I got
you this.  If as a man you're too repressed to suck off a guy,
imagine you're some girl sucking him off.  It's play time.  Hold
this dildo by the testicles and see if anything comes to mind."

And with that she placed an enormous cock and balls in my hand.  It
was made of a flesh-colored soft plastic, fully erect and
indistinguishable from my own except that it was half again as long
and much thicker too.  With a purple crown, veins running up its
length, and testicles attached, the facsimile crotch equipment of
a massive man.  Now it sat heavily in my palm with the business end
pointed straight at my face.  And the balls felt warm.  

"Go ahead, suck on it, baby," she said softly.  

"Cassie!"

"You promised me you'd try!  Kiss it first, if that helps."

So I did.  It wasn't real, after all.  Then I opened wide and took
the head into my mouth.  It felt like a knockwurst, a fat hot dog. 
I sucked the end of it and detected a faint salty sweetness.  Then
I told myself to get to it.  For Cassie.  She's done me often
enough, and she's watching.  I slid the thing into my mouth until
its soft, satiny crown struck the back of my throat.  Then I closed
my lips over the shank at about the halfway point, and pulled and
pushed it out and in a few times.  Licked it some more, then stared
at it.

"Oh, sweetheart!  What a pretty picture!  Whether right now you're
a boy or a girl in your own head, you're officially an apprentice
cocksucker!  Bob your head on it some more, work up a little
passion, then squeeze the balls!"

I tried, and finally I squeezed.  Amazingly, a sweet, salty, hot
creaminess jetted onto the back of my tongue.  Like real cum! 
Cassie smiled and nodded.  I squeezed again.  It filled my mouth. 
I stared at Cassie shocked, the cock now stuffed into my mouth like
a monster pacifier.  

She looked ecstatic!  "See, baby?  It's a little like your own,
isn't it?  I made it for you.  Salted milk with a touch of honey. 
That will be your breakfast drink every morning from now on,
swallowed fresh from Mr. D's balls here.  And your lunch, too!  I
want you to suck this lovely thing several times every day, until
cocksucking is as easy and familiar to you as licking my cunt. 
I'll help with the basic skills each morning before I go to work,
though it's obvious already that you're talented, a natural!"

"Cassie, this is silly!  Why do you want me to do this?  Just to
humiliate me?"

She stared at me, genuinely surprised.  "Why yes, baby, that's it
exactly!  I told you, to humiliate you!  To weaken your male
instincts  and awaken a submissive acceptance of my female
sexuality, so that deep down in the most suppressed, darkest, most
deviant parts of your being you can locate and live out the richest
thrills of your life!  I want you to find that place within you and
rise from it exalted, and then return there repeatedly.  To feel so
helpless, so utterly inadequate as a man, so terrified that I might
prefer some other man, that you're transfigured into something
else.  Something abject, pathetic, servile!  Something eager to
suck even a dildo cock.  Ask your penis -- it knows!  It craves
those feelings!  I want that uttermost experience for you because
I love you!  I've told you that repeatedly!"

I bowed my head.  I was already in turmoil.  There was nothing I
could say.  My wife wants to accustom me to sucking a cock.  An
imitation cock.  I felt devastated.  Utterly humiliated.  But there
was no denying at the same time that deep inside me, I did feel
peculiarly liberated!

"Now try deep throating that penis, honey.  You'll need to learn to
control your gag reflex to do a proper job.  When you get it all
the way down your throat, squeeze the balls again, that warm cum is
your reward.  Then pull the prick all the way out and push it all
the way in again.  Face fuck yourself.  Practice!"

This was insane, yet Cassie was being so matter-of-fact!  I was
baffled.  "Practice?  Why?  For what?"

"Why?  You said it yourself.  Maybe so one day you can suck off an
actual man's cock if I should ever ask you to, and not disgrace me. 
Say, a rival's cock, a lover who's just fucked me, one you can't
even imagine now!  You said you'd do it if it came to that!"

I went numb.  "Cassie?  You have a lover?" 

"Don't I?  In your dreams?  In your thoughts all day?"

"Cassie!  Do you?"

"If I did, think how I'd feel seeing you suck him off.  Triumphant? 
Contemptuous?  Think how you'd feel!  Can I deny you?  You're no
way ready, but I want you to think it could happen!"  She smiled
wide-eyed at me, and nodded in agreement with herself.  "I want you
ready for it even if it never happens.  Starting now, I want you to
know you'd do it and feel deeply ashamed that you'd do it, and
deeply ashamed that you'd love doing it!  You can be a boy or a
girl cocksucker in your own head, that's your choice, whichever's
more your thing.  This is your practice cock.  Choose a gender for
yourself and make up a personality for when you practice.  You
know, cute, bright, aloof, angry, dangerous, starved, indifferent. 
Something.  You know how guys are.  And girls.

My stomach was knotted up.  Yet undeniably, there was this awful,
delicious feeling!  This thing stands for Cassie's lover?  Cocksuck
Cassie's lover, and yet don't, because this thing isn't real?  My
wife is mine, but maybe she isn't mine?  Maybe she never has been? 
I felt a helpless, agonized ... bliss!

She waited.

I'd said I'd try, so I had to.  I pushed the penis as far into my
gullet as I could, then I squeezed the balls hard a few times. 
Sprays of sticky, sweetly salty milk went down my throat.  Then I
pulled the thing out of my face and stared at it.  It was
glistening from its own juice and my saliva, very life-like.  A
man's cock, but with no man attached.

I did it twice more, until the balls were empty.

Cassie came over and kissed me.  She was excited, breathing hard. 
"Mmmmm!" she said.  "I can taste it on your lips.  Delicious!  I'm
so proud of you!  How many men would have the courage?  Now come
taste the cum in my pussy."

"But there's nothing there now," I reminded her.  "Remember?  I
went down on you again this morning.  I cleaned you out."

"That was then.  This is now."

My heart collapsed into my belly!  What was she saying?!  What had
she done?!  Some other man, during the day ...?

She came over and pressed her palm, against my groin.  "Oh,
sweetheart!" she said.  "You should see the look on your face! 
Isn't it marvelous, how helpless you feel when you think your wife
is screwing some other man and there's nothing you can do?  Isn't
it excruciating?  Look at your prick now, stiff as a broom handle! 
Come into the living room this moment and do me with it right now,
right now, quick, never mind lying down for it, I'll lean over the
back of the couch!  I need you in me!  Fill me full!  I need it!"

She pulled me into the living room.  I dropped my pants.  She bent
over the padded back of the sofa, lifted her skirt, spread her legs
wide, and pushed out her tush.  No panties, when had she shed them? 
I found her slot and jammed into her and fucked her hard and fast. 
I was merciless.  She grunted each time I slammed her, but made no
complaint.  A few dozen strokes and my yearnings rose up and
overflowed and my prick spouted into her like a fountain!  I began
to catch my breath.

"Now onto the floor," Cassie said.  "Face up!  I want mine!"

I dropped down as commanded.  She sat directly on my face, her twat
covering my mouth, and all that fresh cum immediately poured out
into my mouth.  Along with a thicker, faintly fishy cum?  Older
cum?  Still from last night?  I decided that's what it was.

"Oh, honey, I was so hot!" she whispered to me even while writhing
on my face, eyes closed, her face exalted.  "All day long I was
imagining you flirting with different boys and kissing and sucking
their penises.  Practically every one in pants who passed my office
door!  That got me so hot!  My panties were soaked by noon,  I was
dripping so steadily I needed a tampon!  And just now when you were
actually pushing that big prick in and out of your mouth I almost
orgasmed on the spot!  You were so busy with your new sensations
you never noticed!  Did you enjoy them?  Don't you love what I'm
doing to you?  Tell me!  No, no joking!  Absolute honesty."

I had done everything she'd asked.  I'd done it for her, and she
was ecstatic that I had done it for her.  I enjoyed seeing her
reaction.  That was most of it.  Yet there was a part of me that
celebrated this kind of degradation, I couldn't deny that either.

"Yes, Cassie.  I do.  I do love it."     


***********


Within a week that dildo was as familiar to me as my toothbrush.  
Cassie attached it to the back of a breakfast room chair at about
groin height.  When I came to breakfast she'd merely gesture at it,
and I'd fall to my knees and lavish affection on it, kiss it and
milk it and jerk it off all the while sucking it while she watched. 
And swallow its cum.  "I love seeing you like that," she said,
beaming.  "Breakfast is my favorite time of day." 

She was generous with suggestions.  I learned to run the flat of my
tongue up its underside before closing my lips over it and running
those lips up and down its length.  I learned that the suction was
to hold my lips tight-closed around the cock as I slithered them up
and down, to provide the cock maximum sensation, not to pull fluid
out of it.  I learned to purse my lips as far forward as a
Frenchman's to shield the cock from my teeth, and as I sat at my
desk during the day I practiced making a plump-lipped "O" over and
over.  

One morning she daydreamed aloud.  "Girls often get their lips
filled out with collagen so men can daydream the feel of pillowed
circles wrapped around their cocks.  Maybe you need puffed lips
too?  If you're going to be a cocksucker, I want you to be the
best, to make me really proud!"

"What do you mean 'going to be'?" I asked, worried whether this
actually was more than just a game for her.  I got to my feet, my
mouth still tasting of salted milk and honey, and looked for the
coffee pot.

"Oh, I love that pout!  It's so very attractive.  Kiss Mr D while
you're still making it!"  That was her only response.   

A few weeks went by.  Each morning my mouth became a soft vagina
for that dildo while Cassie watched me fascinated and made little
suggestions to enhance the erotic play.  She sometimes sat
alongside me and stroked and played with my hair with her delicate
fingers while I concentrated on servicing Mr. D.  I loved that.  It
seemed ... consoling.  Sometimes she seemed to be patting a beloved
dog.  At first that annoyed me, but I learned to appreciate it.  It
made me feel good.

I got so I could deep-six its entire length down my throat and hold
it there for as long as I could hold my breath.  Cassie pointed out
that sucking cock was not an endurance contest, that Mr. D would
prefer a throat and mouth that moves.  At night, she'd prove it by
taking my own cock into her beautiful mouth, each time reviewing
what I'd learned that morning and practiced during the day.  Never
to the point of orgasm, because my cum was specially designated,
first for her pussy, then for my mouth, and finally for my stomach. 
My cum we shared.  Mr. D's was mine alone.

I must say, I felt cheapened and demeaned sometimes, just as Cassie
wanted me to feel.  Some days the whole exercise just seemed silly. 
Cassie asked me to spice up the experience by supposedly flirting
with a different imaginary man each day, then imagining I was
sucking the man's cock while I was sucking the dildo.  I asked
Cassie if she did that too, if she imagined I was a different man
each time she sucked on me.  She smiled and said nothing.  Each day
the delicious unease in the pit of my stomach grew stronger
whenever I wondered such things.  And Cassie knew it.  Some days
she'd tell me to jerk off whenever I felt it, especially if it was
while pleasuring Mr. D.  Other days she forbid me to touch my cock
no matter how I felt.  Then each evening when she got home I had to
tell her everything, everything that had happened, everything I'd
felt about it, as if I were a teenage girl fresh back from a date. 


Sometimes I'd pretend I was gay, and sometimes that I was Cassie. 
More often I was one of the girls I'd gone with before I met
Cassie.  Cassie especially liked that when I told her.  She hoped
it would change my memories of those girls if I relived our
relationships as them, not as me.  It did.  I even thought about
how each styled their hair before a date, and wondered about
changing mine to match, so I'd look more attractive for Mr. D.

But most often I was just myself while sucking on Mr. D, and that
pleased Cassie most.  "My cocksucker hubby," she called me,
pleased.  I could easily imagine doing other degenerate things with
Cassie's telephone callers now.  It once crossed my mind that while
I was on my knees with that dildo, supposedly pleasuring a caller,
Cassie might be on hers at that same moment pleasuring an actual
man.  I tried not to think of it, but the image kept returning.  As
I imagined her lips wrapped around some man's thick meat, that
delicious unease in my belly would flare up wildly and become
jealousy and despair and rage, then die down into a glow of
acceptance.  If I had her permission, at that point I'd masturbate
half-out of my mind.  That was what Cassie wanted for me and had
granted me.  I felt grateful.  Sometimes I even craved it.


***********


My mind was where it was all happening.  Actually, giving blow jobs
to a dildo isn't hard at all.  Oral sex is oral sex, a cock is a
cock, and something in the mouth is no more than that.  What did it
matter?  I sometimes felt like a real slut, a ten-tricks-a-day
whore sucking different men's cocks all day even though they were
all Mr. D, and that too I'm sure is was what Cassie wanted for me. 
It was all practice, preparation.  But for what?

Our night-time lovemaking now always ended with an extra orgasm for
Cassie, because I always sucked my cum back out of her, exciting
her until her cunt would spasm and squeeze everything out.  She
loved it.  Whatever she loved I loved, so I found myself in
paradise!  She awakened a submissive self within me I'd never
known, and I became passionate on his behalf.  Some nights I sipped
her cunt clear of its accumulated fluids as if I were sipping
champagne, in all humility, feeling deeply privileged.  One night
as she was convulsed by a powerful orgasm I felt a clear warm fluid
enter my mouth, thin, lightly pungent but not at all like her cum
or mine.  I swallowed it as it came, and realized only after three
or four swallows that it had to be her pee.  She'd climaxed so
powerfully she'd lost control of her bladder.  

I decided to say nothing.  But when she'd recovered her breath and
we'd both calmed down, as we were lying quite still next to each
other, she said quietly, "You swallowed it all, didn't you!"  

I answered only, "Yes."

"I was wondering why the bed wasn't soaked.  My sweet piss-boy. 
Did you like it?"

I was silent.  

She leaned over to kiss my cheek with her soft lips.  "You're
embarrassed to tell me that you did like it, aren't you."

"I liked being useful to you,"  I managed to say.  "And especially
intimate -- I like having you in me.  By that I know I'm special."

"Yes, you are.  No one has ever done anything like that for me
before.  You're my sole Prince of Piss from now on, sweetheart. 
Only you.  Shall we do it again some time?"

What could I say.  It wasn't that bad.  The odor was light and the
taste delicate.  And she was impressed!  "Yes," I said cautiously. 
"If you wish."

"As a reward then.  Sometimes you'll have it directly from me,
you'll never know when, and sometimes I'll serve it to you in a
wine glass, I think.  It'll always be fresh, darling.  Because it's
a reward, not a punishment, a token of my special affection for
you.  A gift from deep inside me in appreciation of our special
relationship."

I don't know why, but I turned and kissed her gratefully, then lay
back content.  Not because she now felt free to piss on me, into
me, but because as she'd just said, she thought me special, and I
was nowadays often worried about whether I was only one more of her
men.  If there were any others.  She'd already asked me not to
rinse my mouth out after I'd licked her clean -- she always wanted
me to feel and taste her all night and the next morning too.  It
wasn't just my cum, it was ours.  And now another of her fluids
blended in with ours.  All three together a beautiful symbol of our
marriage.

There was a lot of cum for me to swallow.  As I sank more and more
into delicious subservience, Cassie seemed to be more constantly
aroused.  She often came home with her panties soaked.  "I love
thinking about you at home all day with Mr. D in your mouth," she
explained.  Or "I was imagining that this time there was a real
cock in your mouth.  It's so demeaning for you!  So funky!  So
tantalizing that I could hardly concentrate on my work!  I really
must get you a real man's cum to taste, and soon, I worry I'm
depriving you.  Men are all different, you know.  I wonder how I
can manage it!  Maybe only in a condom?"  

She grinned as she saw the effect her teasing was having on me. 
"You pussy!  That erection!  You love the idea!" she whispered
triumphantly.  I couldn't deny it.

When she got home from work, sometimes she couldnt wait for night. 
She'd toss her purse onto a chair, lie down on the sofa with one
foot high on the back and one on the floor, and crook her finger at
me wordlessly.  Then I'd come drain her.  Sometimes she was so
juicy it would take me a half-hour or more.  "This is all you,
isn't it?" I asked her once, marvelling at how much thick fluid her
vagina could hold.

"What do you think?" she replied with a mysterious smile.  And as
pure fear again took over the pit of my stomach, I got rock hard.


***********
end 4/13
VickieTern@AOL.COM

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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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