Cuck Ch. 02

I was able to finish chewing and swallowed. "What?"

She tilted her head. "I saw you do it the other night, when we were watching the porn. I thought it was very romantic."

I didn't know whether to be ashamed or aroused. "You did?"

She took another drink. "Yes. Very sexy. It means you miss me that much. I mean," she frowned slightly, "I don't think I could get the same from your underwear, but that's okay. You love me so much you smell my underwear. That's just sweet." Her smile returned. I had nothing to respond with. I found myself both ashamed and aroused.

She leaned forward. "Do you, like, go through my underwear when I'm not here? Because I'd be okay with that if you do. I was just wondering. Its okay if you have a panty fetish. I'm your wife, right? Nothing wrong with that. Not like you're out huffing panties at the laundromat or anything." She giggled, then straightened again. "I mean, it's perfectly okay. I just want you to know."

"I don't sniff your panties," I insisted. "It wouldn't matter anyway," I said. "After you wash them they don't smell like you."

"Aww. That's sweet." She smiled, but I wasn't sure if it was genuine or condescending. I think it was genuine. "But seriously, whatever you want to do, I'm okay with that. Do you wear them?" She put her hands out as if the thought just came to her by surprise.

"No," I said. "Can we just drop the subject? I haven't worn you panties."

She looked at me. "Do you want to?" A slow smile crept up on her. "Oh, you totally want to. I can see it in your eyes."

What? No. I looked away. Yes? I wasn't sure what I was thinking.

She was smiling broadly. "You so want to. Come on, David, admit it. You want to wear my panties."

"Can I just finish eating, please?"

"I'd let you, you know. Anytime you want." She looked at me across the table. "All you have to do is ask." She flicked her eyebrows.

She finished off her drink, stood up from the table. After work, she had thrown on a loose T-shirt and sweatpants. With a playful grin, Lynn slid her thumbs into the waistband and I watched as she wiggled them down over her hips, a teasing little dance as she did. "Oops," she announced as her sweatpants fell to her ankles. "Looks like my pants fell down." She stepped out of them and lifted the end of her shirt as she turned around, giving me a wonderful show of her rounded ass and the purple cotton panties she wore. She sauntered toward the living room, casting a sultry glance over her shoulder as she went.

I assumed I was done eating.

When I joined her in the living room, I found my wife sitting in the easy chair with her legs sprawled open, one knee dangling over one of the arms of the chair. Her smile looked positively wicked. As I started toward her, she held up a finger.

"Uh-uh," she said. "Not so fast."

My own smile dissipated, but vigorous excitement made my heart start beating faster.

"We do this my way," she announced, twirling her fingers before aiming them at herself. "And if I'm not mistaken, I think one of us is supposed to be the bitch." She twirled them back, aiming squarely at me.

I could have burst with desire right then. As it was, I just stood slack-jawed and speechless. I was petrified. I was thrilled. I had no idea what to make of her playfulness anymore. I swallowed. "What..what do you mean?" I asked, nervousness clouding my voice.

"Get naked," she said. "I want to be sure how you feel about this. No secrets, remember?" I stood a moment longer before she said, "Pants off. Now. I want you completely naked."

I swallowed. My hands went immediately to my belt. In only moments my pants were down, my shirt was off, and I'd dropped my boxers to the side. I even managed to get my socks off without sitting down. I stood there naked as ever, my cock already standing hard without another word from her. She was absolutely right. I had no way to hide my excitement at that point—and no desire to at all.

She was still smiling, clearly pleased with the performance thus far. "Get on your knees, bitch," she directed, pointing at the floor. "I want you to crawl to me like a good little puppy."

Wow. Wow wow wow. In that one sentence I could have fallen in love with her all over again. Somehow, I didn't care about being a man right then. I didn't care what she thought of me. I only wanted to please her. My beautiful wife wanted me to crawl, so crawl I did. It made her happy. It made me happy. That was all that mattered.

By the time I reached the front of the chair, I was rock hard with anticipation. It may have been an experimental moment for both of us, but it was damn sure working out so far. If she was willing to take the lead, I was more than eager to follow her wherever it went.

"Good boy," she said, patting my head. I could never in a million years have hoped for a better partner, a more accepting lover. I would do anything she desired.

"You like to sniff my panties?" she asked. "Now smell these." She parted her legs wide on the chair, her shirt bunched above her hips to reveal the smooth purple fabric covering her mound. "Go on, get a good sniff."

I smiled eagerly. In a way, I felt dumb, possibly just a slight bit foolish, but mainly I just felt horny as hell. I leaned in, brought my nose right against the thin fabric. The smell was dizzying, the warmth rising into my nostrils from her secret folds. I closed my eyes, inhaling all of her beauty for myself. With my face nuzzled against her crotch, her fingers ran through my hair. This was love.

"Good boy," she said again. "You are making me so wet." I laid a kiss on her labia through the panties.

"Come here," she said, gently pulling my face up to hers. With my dick tickling against the fabric of the chair, she kissed me, her whole mouth over mine, deep and inviting, wet and wonderful. Then she pushed me back slightly. "I want you to take them off me," she said, sliding her hips just a little forward on the chair.

I didn't question. Kneeling before her, I reached up to the waistband at either hip and began tugging the fabric down, She lifted her pelvis a little to help me get it off her ass, then closed her thighs with her ankles on my shoulders so I could slip it along her legs. My only anxiety was whether I not I was pulling too fast or too slow. At the end, she withdrew each bare foot, then spread her thighs once more as I sat there with her panties in hand. Wearing nothing but a T-shirt, my wife looked divine.

She smiled, and so did I. She began swirling one finger at the top of her sex, rubbing the tender folds just below a dark patch of pubic hair. "Do you want some?" She asked.

Hell yes! I only nodded, my tongue already to my lips. I tossed the panty aside.

"Oh no," she taunted, crossing one thigh over the other, cutting off my view. "I want you to wear those," she said.

I looked her in the eye. "Oh, come on. Really?" She just shook her head with a sheepish grin.

"Hey, if you want a taste, that's what I expect." She uncrossed and recrossed her legs to the other side, giving me a brief peak of what I really wanted.

"That's blackmail," I protested.

She made a face. "It's really more extortion, but that's the price. You want it, you wear 'em." She bit her bottom lip, waiting.

I made a face as well. Even though I was really excited at the prospect she was presenting me, I had to make at least a show or reluctance. My manhood was quickly being put to the test here. But damn, I wanted that pussy. And damn, I loved her panties almost as much as I adored her pussy. I grabbed them off the floor and stood, contemplating.

"Think of it as an opportunity," she said. "This way you'll know how it feels, and that way you'll know if you like it or not. And then, there's a reward just for trying." She parted her thighs again, draping both legs over the arms of the chair. Oh boy.

Feeling both comical and enthralled in the same motion, I carefully slipped one foot in and then the other. Past the point of no return, I pulled them up as if they were a swim trunk—a very snug swim trunk. Of course, my package bulged out the front, my balls cupped by the soft fabric while my cock shot up above the band, pressed against my abdomen. Looking down at myself, I was as aroused as I was mortified. But this was her idea; I had no reason to be embarrassed in front of her. Still, some small part of me felt like it was being chased away forever.

"Come here," she said, motioning me to step closer. I did. Lynn leaned forward and took my erection and tucked it to the side so the whole thing lay tight against my body just under the waistband. "That's better." She looked up at me with a grin. "You even have a little pre-cum already?" she teased. "Are you sure you're not gay?"

It was definitely a jab, but I wasn't sure how playfully she meant it. "I'm not gay," I said. It stung that she actually might think that. Problem was, I could not be so sure about it myself. My whole world was running topsy-turvy right then. I was standing in purple panties with a full erection. That didn't quite scream masculinity.

Lynn only smiled. "I have to tell you, honey. You look so fucking sexy right now." She chewed her lips and sucked in her teeth.

"Well, I feel a little silly." That was the truth, despite my arousal.

She grinned up. "It's not silly if you're a faggot."

Ouch. "I'm not gay," I insisted.

"Oh really? Prove it," she said, "faggot."

"I'm not," I wasn't sure if it was anger or desire, but my cock somehow felt fuller, the cloth constriction making the head throb.

"Oh, does the faggot not like being called faggot?" She made a pouty face. Then she opened her legs once more. "Now get on your knees, bitch. Get on your knees and tell me what a real faggot you are."