An Agreement Gone Wrong Ch. 03

There was an obvious answer, and that was that her dick was fucking scary! But really, that shouldn't have been an excuse. With how long they'd been a couple, how non-pushy she was about it, how perfect she was in every other way, why didn't he give her -- it -- a chance? They could have started off slow, worked him up to it, and made a whole romantic event of the first time; he was sure Christie would have been more than accommodating of his needs, gentle with him even, until he figured out if he liked it or not. And if he had just done that and liked letting his futanari wife fuck him, then maybe all of this could have been avoided.

But what if he didn't like it? Minus the general fear he had, that thought is probably what held him back the most. What if he hated getting fucked, and it hurt their relationship because of it? What if that made Christie leave him? What if that ruined their marriage? He was always hesitant to interact with her cock, but before things went to hell in a handbasket anyway, he had started to warm up to it more. If things had continued as they had, before he lost his teaching job, would he have eventually let her fuck him? So many questions, so many potential outcomes, and he could do nothing but ruminate on them, playing them out in his head, trying to figure out what could have been.

Megan reappeared at the bar and told him what drinks she needed.

"Anyway. So did she ever ask?"

"Yeah on occasion. But I always turned her down or made up an excuse though."

"Well what about now?"

"Now?" John questioned, handing her a tall beer, "What do you mean now? We aren't exactly on speaking terms, you know."

"I know, I know. But have you ever thought that maybe, like, that could be how you fix things? I don't want to overstep my bounds, but if she's always wanted to do that maybe you could try it out as like, a peace offering or something?"

"I had kind of thought of something like that," he admitted, handing her another alcohol-infused concoction, "but I don't know. It's so big, what if it ends up hurting me or something?"

"Hold that thought, I'll be right back."

Placing the drinks of a tray, Megan wandered off again, shaking her ass as she walked, John's eyes naturally drawn to the bouncing cheeks - God, his wife really got to fuck that, didn't she? Returning to his own customer, John made him another drink while finishing off his own secret beverage, once more mulling over Megan's proposition. It did make sense, and it was an idea he'd toyed with but never had the bravery to commit too. Wait - did Christie say something to her? Had she and Megan been talking about him? Was this secretly a plot to humiliate him? Well, that last one was pretty ridiculous, he had to admit - Christie had never been that cruel, even on that first day when all her pent up resentment burst free.

Besides, his wife didn't seem to really be the kind to talk seriously to the women she fucked.

"Well," Megan returned almost as quickly as she'd left, bumping him out of the way to use his computer system, "if you're seriously considering it, I know something that might help."

"And what's that?"

"Toys."

"Toys? Megan I don't own any, and I don't even know where to start looking for stuff like that."

"You could always get them online, but," her hands finished gliding over the touch screen with practiced ease and reached into her apron to pull out a pen and pad, "I can recommend a local place if you would rather get them yourself."

She scribbled something quickly on a piece of paper she ripped out of her book, and handed it to John.

"Here, this is the address of a sex shop I've used before. They're really cool there and won't ask a bunch of questions."

John took the paper and studied the sloppily-written address.

"Thanks, but I don't know about this..."

"Look, you seemed really happy before all of this happened, and everyday you come in here moping and sad. Plus, and no offense John, but you kind of look like shit. Making up with Christie would probably be for the best."

"You have a point." John smiled at her, the first genuine smile he'd felt in a long time, "Thank you Megan. It means a lot that you care like this."

"No problem." she put a hand on his shoulder, "Now I need some refills on my table's drinks!"

John smiled at her and got to pouring. Their conversation weighed on his mind for the rest of his shift, uncertain of whether he could bring himself to follow through with it; but when he got off work, he drove straight to the sex shop, putting the address into his phone without a second thought. He felt uncomfortable walking into the obscene business, awkwardly greeting the salesperson at the front with a wave. Quickly finding himself lost in the stacks of DVDs and fleshlights, he was about to give up and leave before a worker showed up next to him, asking if they could help. Managing to stutter out that he was looking for a dildo, and that he didn't have much experience with this kind of stuff, he was quickly shown to an aisle that contained a seemingly unending amount of phallic objects, and he found one that looked small enough that it might not hurt too much. The cashier threw in a free mini-bottle of lube with his purchase, and John ended up returning several times to buy bigger toys, until he obtained the biggest the store had to offer.

That whole process took over a month, leading John to where he was now...

...

Coming up to the house, his house, John noted with some apprehension that Christie's lifted truck was parked in the driveway, something that shouldn't have surprised him. Pulling in next to it, he didn't rush out of his car and into his home immediately. Now was the time to amp himself up! Looking at himself in his rearview, he mussed with his hair and tried to smooth out his plain, black t-shirt, making himself as presentable as possible. Grabbing his phone, he decided not to announce his arrival with a text - she would hear him walk in anyway. His eyes drifted to his backseat where his duffel bag full of preparations were sat; he probably wouldn't need those either. Taking a deep breath, he got out.

Not exactly racing to confront his wife, John casually made his way up to the front door, hands in his jeans' pockets. Feeling anxious, his heart pounding so hard in his chest it almost hurt, his mind automatically began assuming the worst; no matter how much he tried to clear his head of doubts, they still weighed heavily on his being. Things could go catastrophically wrong, and he would be left with nothing again and he would be even more humiliated and-- stop. That didn't matter. What did matter was that he had gained a new found appreciation for his wife regardless of how things went, one he intended to display to her to the best of his abilities. If things didn't go well despite his efforts, at least no one could say he didn't try in the end. At least he knew he gave it his best.

Opening the front door, John walked into a silent house.

"John?" a deep voice called out as he stepped into the entrance, one unmistakable to the married man, "I'm in the bedroom!"

John didn't reply aloud, nodding his head instead as though Christie could see him. As he made his way to the bedroom, a walk that felt almost unfamiliar to him by this point, he continued to think about what was about to happen. Placing his hand on the doorknob, he began to turn it, stopping suddenly right before he was going to push the door open. What would he find when he walked into the bedroom? What if she was there with Megan? Did they set this whole thing up together? Or his sister? Fucking her, using her to humiliate him!? Stop! No. None of that is happening. Christie wasn't like that, not to him!

Another deep breath, and John opened the door, rays of sunlight greeting him from the far window.

There was Christie, and no one else, just like he'd hoped - no, expected. She was sitting at the end of the bed, hands folded in her massive laps. Her blue eyes and long, flowing blonde hair sparkled in the natural light, her face neutral as she watched him walk in. A green tank top struggled to cover her muscled torso, her enormous breasts tenting the thin material outward, clearly unconstrained by a bra. Her bare arms, each one bulging with untold strength, looked bigger than his thigh, insanely flexed even in their rested state, veins popping from below her pale flesh, lacing her appendages like thick cords. The muscles on her shoulders threatened the integrity of the flimsy top's straps, forcing them to crest the mountainous protrusions, nearly touching the top of her neck. A hint of her abs peered from under the too-small torso that left the bottom four exposed, each one so defined that John could have poured a bottle of water across them without any of the liquid leaking out.

Her giant, face-palming hands rested above a very obvious distension in her pants. A pair of sweatpants, one's that would have been loose on anyone else but her, clung to her legs like a second skin and left little to the imagination, struggling to cover her lower half. Her thighs created bumps and ridges in the thicker fabric, appearing as though she had stuffed numerous pieces of rounded fruit into her bottoms. They didn't come low enough to cover ankles, ending halfway down her calves, the hem of her pant legs stretched taut around the head-sized muscles. John could see the outline of her package protrude against the crotch of her pants and around one of her thighs down to her knee, pulling the material tight around its ridiculous girth. She looked much the same as she had, but, and John didn't know if it was just because of their time apart, somehow even more buff, more powerful, more incredible than she had previously.

He walked far enough into the room to be standing in front of her, and then stopped.

"H-Hey Chris." he managed to stutter out, the nickname sounding foreign on his tongue.

"Hey John," her voice was as impassive as her expression was, "you wanted to talk?"

"Uh, yeah, I did. Um, how are you?"

"I'm..." Christie shook her head, "I'm fine John. How are you?"

She didn't really need to ask to know the answer. John wasn't exactly an Adonis before -- not to say that he wasn't good looking -- but he looked noticeably worse now. Christie could see through his shirt, one he'd owned for a long time, that he had lost a good amount of weight; the shirt hung off of his torso more than it had, no longer clinging to his strong biceps or tight chest. His eyes were more sunken in, and his cheeks, while not quite gaunt, had definitely lost some of their roundness. She also noted that he wasn't wearing a belt, meaning those jeans were form fitting, a kind he never bothered with before. While his weight loss was concerning, he was still the same ol' John she had married. Still handsome in that unique way of his, the kind that attracted her to him in the first place.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath while he responded.

"I'm good, Christie."

"Good. Now, what are we doing here John? What is this all about?"

"Okay. Well. I wanted to apologize to you. I'm sorry fo--"

"Yeah I already know you're sorry for cheating on me, honey," she winced a little as the pet name naturally flew from her lips, her arms crossing over her chest, "you apologized for that plenty of times already."

"No-- I mean yes, I am sorry for that and I always will be!" John could feel himself getting flustered, "But that's not what I was saying 'sorry' for."

He sighed.

"I'm sorry for... for uh... for never letting you use it on me."

Christie raised an eyebrow.

"Use what on you? You're not making any sense."

"You know," he rotated his hand in the air in front of him, gesturing towards her, "it."

"John, I don't know what you're talking abou--"

Christie paused, her eyes going wide, showing genuine surprise - did he mean what she thought he did?

"Wait, you mean my penis?" she unfolded her arms and grabbed at her crotch, as though her words needed emphasis.

"Y-Yeah, that. I'm sorry I never, uh, gave it, you, a chance."

"I mean you've apologized for that before John, and apologizing for it again doesn't change anything. Was that all you brought me here for?"

"No! No it isn't Chris!" John's voice began to rise, "I brought you her because - because I..."

His fists clenched at his sides.

"I love you Christie! I love you and I want you back. I want things to be how they were again. I wanna be your husband again!"

Her features softened - how long had it been since he'd told her he loved her?

"I love you too John," her eyes darted to the side, "but I don't know. Things have changed so much. I don't know if things can ever go back to normal after... after everything that's happened."

"They can. Things can be better than they were. I... I want to give myself to you Christie. Like you always wanted. Make it all-- make everything up to you."

"John that's sweet but I don't think that's going to happen. It's a little late for that anyway. I would probably end up hurting you and making things worse. Maybe it would just be best if we went our separate ways."

She still wasn't look at him.

"No. Chris, I've been... practicing. Preparing myself for you. Every day for over a month. I'm sure it's not the same, but at least I've been trying! I'm serious about this. I want you to fuck me!"

"You've been practicing? With someone else?"

"No, uh, with toys," John blushed, an awkward smile piercing through his serious expression, "dildos and stuff. I've bought a bunch. They're in the car if you need proof."

The room went silent. Christie looked up at John, studying his features. Despite the color in his cheeks and his uncomfortable stance, the muscular futa could tell that he was serious, that he meant every word he said to her. That he was really ready to give in to her deepest desire. After all these years, John was offering her something she had borderline begged for, as much as she hated to admit it. And he was doing it to fix things. To show her he truly loved her. To make it all right. It was like she was seeing John in a new light, like she was seeing him for the first time again. The anger, the resentment, inside of her dissipated, giving way to something she hadn't felt in a very long time...

Christie stood up, stretching to her full, towering height.

"Are you sure about this John?"

"I am, Chris," he almost had to crane his neck to look her in the eyes, "I am as sure about it as when I asked you to be my girlfriend. As sure as I was when I asked you to be my partner for life. I've never been more sure of anything else."

"John..."

Christie felt like she was going to cry from happiness, but instead she took a large step forward and wrapped her arms around her husband, crushing him against her chest; John was unable to hug her back, his arms squeezed between her ripped biceps. Bending her head down, she kissed him, kissed him for the first time in months, and she really kissed him. Her thick tongue invaded his mouth, causing him to moan at the oral intrusion. John's feet actually lifted from the floor as they made out, Christie pulling him closer to her face. He returned the gesture, sliding his own, normal-sized tongue against her's, saliva running down his chin. The reunited lovers stayed like for a long time, until John beat his fist against her hard-as-stone thigh, trying to tell her that he needed some air. By the time the giantess figured it out, he was red faced and squirming against her.

"Sorry John," she released her vice-grip on his body, "I just... I missed you. So much. I love you, you know that right?"

"I, I love you too Chris," he stuttered out between much-needed inhales of oxygen, "I'm sorry it took me so long to come around."

Christie stroked the side of his face with a meaty finger.

"Let's not talk about it anymore, okay? We can figure out the rest later. Right now I just want to be with you."

"Of course, whatever you want."

"I want you!"

Grabbing his hand, she swung him around and pushed him onto the bed. Following with him, she leaned over his face, her massive form completely encompassing his smaller body, and went back in for another kiss. Christie's arms wandered up and down his body, pulling at his shirt and jeans as they locked lips; John was helpless to resist her in any way -- not that he wanted to -- and let his own hands roam over her arms and stomach, tracing the definition of her muscles with his fingers. Breaking their oral embrace for a moment, Christie pulled John's shirt over his head and threw it to the floor, attacking his neck with lustful hunger, running her large tongue over his soft skin. Moaning under her, he caressed her long blonde locks as he writhed at her touch, the feeling of his wife's mouth on him like heaven.

Kissing lower down his body, Christie yanked at the waist of his jeans as she licked at one of his small brown nipples. Using her tremendous strength, she disrobed him down to his black boxers, a tent bulging the front of them. Wrapping a large hand around the distension, she rubbed it between her strong fingers, still making her way down his torso with her mouth. Once her lips reached his waist, she used both hands to rip his underwear asunder, freeing his modest package. Swooping down, she engulfed his entire member in her large mouth, batting at it with her tongue, her hands gripping his thighs, holding him still. John sat up suddenly at the unexpected warmth on his genitals.

"Wait, Christie! You don't have to do anything to me, this is all about you!"

Christie looked up from her now-kneeling position between his legs, staring at him from around his hard, tan cock she had just popped off of to speak.

"Oh honey, I've missed this too! I always liked your cock - you know that. Besides, this will help me get ready!"

With that, she dove back down onto his cock, engulfing it down its base. She continued wetting his average-sized pole, letting rivulets of saliva run down its length, while using her tongue to lap at his balls. Content with letting his wife fulfill her desires, John fell back onto the bed and allowed her to do what she pleased with him. In no time he could feel himself get close - it had been so long since he'd felt anything on his cock besides his own hands, and he'd forgotten how good Christie was at fellatio! Gripping the sheets in clenched fists, his hips involuntarily bucked at his futa significant other's oral ministrations, ready to bust at any moment. If Christie noticed, it only made her suck harder, practically vacuuming his manhood between her plush lips.

"Christie, I'm gonna, I'm about to cum! Sorry!"

Paying his warning no mind, Christie continued to suck and suck on his cock, not giving any ground against his jerking hips. Sliding a hand from his thigh to his balls, she cupped them, juggling the marble-sized orbs between her fingers, coaxing the load out of him. That seemed to do the trick. Groaning, he shook once more, his cock throbbing against the inside of her cheek. Several milky stands of cum gushed from his tip, bathing the inside of her mouth, each one firing across her tongue. Christie gladly lapped up his offering, swishing around his seed between her teeth as she continued to pull the last of his orgasm from his shaft. When he was finally done, his dick beginning to soften between her lips, she pulled off his organ, swallowing his load loudly, giving an exaggerated lick of her lips. Looking at her husband's paralyzed-by-pleasure form, she stood up with a smile and grabbed at the bottom of her tank top.