Girly Girl

"I'm...I'm..."

"Gorgeous," she answered for me. "Feminine. No one will know!" she assured me.

I gave her a look. "Why would anyone know?"

She grinned. "Well, we still have to get home, silly," she said.

I flushed at that thought. But as expertly as I was done, no one would know. Could know. And yet on that trip, my heart fucking raced. I was terrified, yet thrilled. Horrified yet exhilarated. I was out in public as a woman, but it was so well done that I got some fat fuck call out "hey, nice legs, bitch!" as we walked down the street. That was infuriating, but the thought of surprising that prick with my prick made me smile coldly.

Once inside the apartment, she took my hand into hers as she had been doing so often lately, and led me into the bedroom.

"You want to sink into the feminine, right, baby?" she purred.

"Yes, of course," I told her.

"Good girl," she grinned, shooting me a playful quick wink.

She pulled me into a long deep kiss. It was the sort of tongue-heavy, panting-causing kiss that ordinarily would have given me a full erection and the strong will to use it on her. But the fufu clip was an effective denial tool, and it allowed her to begin taking the dress off of me. Like I was the woman, being slowly seduced by her man.

She walked me to the bed, and then once in there she got out several lengths of a deep red silk. Encircling my wrists and tying them to each of the posts did not take long, and then once my wrists were restrained, she took off her clothes and laid down against my body. Her fingers moved slowly over my hairless chest.

"I can't believe how sexy you look," she said. "You look better than me!"

I chuffed. "Never," I assured her.

"Well, you do look sexy," she said. Her voice dropped into that bedroom whisper that I so loved to hear. "I can't believe how wet I am!"

"You better show me," I suggested lightly in my own bedroom voice. "I can be the judge of that!"

"Mmmmm," she thought aloud. She remained next to me for maybe thirty seconds, our breathing slowing into unison, until she made this strangled cry. "I can't wait any more!"

But what I had expected - her to kneel over me and let me lick her to orgasm - did not happen. Instead, she hopped off of the bed and opened the top drawer. She showed me the gleaming metal butt plug and winked at me.

"I am going to be taking you tonight," she informed me.

"Oh god oh god yesssss," I moaned just like she liked me to. In truth, I did not have to fake that moan.

My panties were taken down, but the clip remained in place. With a generous amount of lube and a little finger play to help relax me, she popped the plug into place. I was filled, the sensation odd but sexy, a fullness that was constantly there and this low-level constant sexy that soon had my hips rising and falling on the bed.

"Oh, Jas, Jas!" I moaned. My arms pulled on the bonds but they were secured well. It was a delicious tease, threatening to overwhelm me. Already I was under her command and control, and I had never felt hotter or sexier.

That's the moment that it occurred to me that my deepest, most secret fantasy was being lived, right now, right in this moment. And that the reality was so much more powerful than the fantasy had ever been. And I could not wait to see what was going to happen next.

Her mouth began to tease my skin. Each puckering kiss, whether on my belly or on my nipple or even on my arm, left tingles in its wake. She kissed my lips hard, slipping her tongue between mine. Pulling away playful just to watch me surge up only to be held back by the bonds. How my fingers and toes curled and flexed and relaxed repeatedly, my hips rising as the need filling my body grew deeper and more intense.

Her pussy, finally just inches away from my face, captivated me. The lips plump with blood and glistening with her sweet creams, and the aroma that left me intoxicated. My begging her to move back so that I could lick her and worship her and the moment my tongue hit that searing smooth flesh, how we were both lost. I was lost in service, in plunging my tongue deep into her folds, and feeling those folds clasping around my tongue. How her wetness covered my chin and cheeks and I did not care, it just made me lick faster and harder.

My hips jerked and my legs went together and opened back up, my knees bending and spreading my legs as the plug stuffing my ass made me impossibly horny. Licking my girl's wet pussy drove me mad with lust, faster and faster. I needed her to cum, and the texture and taste of her juices changed a little. Her cries grew louder and less rhythmic, as she neared her climax.

The wash of her juices was the best reward that I could have had. It went everywhere, a big squirting orgasm that covered my face. I was far too lost in my own arousal to worry about the contents of the liquids; just that her orgasm was the sexiest thing ever and her screams musical in my ears.

"You'd...be...such...a...g-good...lesbian," she moaned as she weakly crawled away from me. "Oh my god I came so hard," she reported - somewhat unnecessarily. She looked at me, the soaked wig and face and the wetness on her pillows. "Oh!" she gasped, surprised. "I squirted?"

"Big time," I assured her.

Her wrinkled expression conveyed a moment of doubt. "Are you okay with that?"

"I was then, I am now."

"Good," she said as she slowly recovered. "Because now I want to take you," she announced.

"Please, take me, please fuck me, baby, please!" Of course I thought she meant removing that damned clip. I should have known better, seeing her slip that strapon onto her body, the sort that had a little nub of a dildo that fit inside of her. Better for her to enjoy stimulation while taking me.

"I've wanted this for so long," she whispered as she crawled onto the bed, the black rubber phallus sticking out from her body. She looked at me looking at the fake cock, and reached down to stroke it - lubing it up as she did so.

"Ready for me to take your anal cherry?" she asked.

"Yes, baby, please!" I moaned. "Fuck my ass!"

"Your boipussy," she corrected.

"Fuck my boipussy!" I moaned as my hips worked and toes curled and mind raged in pure want.

She eased the toy out and set it aside and I lifted my hips, eager to have her push that tool into my asshole. She held it and pushed, easing it inside, and then climbed over me in the missionary position. Well, sort of - my legs were pinned up and she began to ease her hips out in and out slowly.

At first, it was awful. But the awfulness passed quickly. Then it became blissful. Then, as the head of her cock I guess rubbed against my prostate, it became something else entirely. Addicting. Incomparably erotic. Her face showed the pleasure, not only of fucking me, but also because each movement of her body pushed that dildo deeper into her own pussy.

"Oh fuck, Trish!" she screamed. "I'm going to cum again!"

Watching it - unable to do anything to help her - left an indelible print in my memory. The look of a woman's face in the throes of a good orgasm is one of the most beautiful expressions that a man can see. And she was fully gone over into it, not inhibited in any way, just letting that orgasm run through her and take her and wash her away; her hip movements grew ragged and jerky, plunging the tool into my ass deep and hard.

And I was almost crying with the need to cum.

"Please, Jas," I begged, pulling on the silken bonds holding my arms. "Please make me cum, oh god baby, I need to cum so bad!" I moaned. I was writhing; there's no other description for that full body crawl of arms and legs and hips all displaying wanton need.

"Yes, Trish, I'll make your clitty cum," she agreed.

No sensation in the world was better than the removal of that clip; I don't think that my cock ever felt harder. But she did not touch it. No, she began to push that dildo into my ass again. The sensation of feeling like I might pee everywhere was the only thing that kept me from cumming because I wasn't sure what might come out!

But her body's motions, pressing down on my throbbing clitty, her words teasing me, her cock taking my boipussy...all of it pushed that peeing sensation fuller and thicker in me.

And then there was no holding it back.

I'd read that prostate orgasms were different, like a rolling sensation that gently spread and caressed but was in no way less powerful...just full body rather than centered solely on the sex organs. I don't know what it was, only that it was blissful and mind-wiping and there was never a better orgasm in my life. I did not shoot cum - it was more like a faucet was turned on. But it never stopped, it just kept leaking and leaking and spreading over my lower body smashed into hers and making us both slippery. She moaned and came again as the heated fluid just dribbling out of my clitty covered both of our bodies. The orgasm lasted forever, and then it ended and was replaced by something I never expected.

I looked up at her, in awe and astonishment and adoration and suddenly my vision swam. The tears formed of their own volition and spilled from my eyes. Like the faucet had been turned off at my cock, it was turned on at my eyes and I wept, and I think scared Jasmine. My ties were undone and then she pulled me to her and cradled me tightly to her as I wept shamelessly. There was none of that worry about how I felt - there was just the solace that I craved to be in her arms.

The emotional wash ran its course and then I was a slobbering, red-eyed mess who needed a tissue. It was given to me and then we remained in bed, not really talking but still sharing that closeness. Swaddled in the darkness of that femininity, I had never felt such an intimate closeness to another person. I wish that I had a better description than "it was amazing," but the truth was just that simple. Awe-inspiring, to be honest.

***

Trisha does not make many appearances. Usually once a month. And these days, that beleaguered "Awww fuck," that comes from the bathroom that announces the beginning of her monthly cycle also creates a new cycle. I am locked into a chastity device. And it does not come off until my boipussy is fucked so well that I come through the device.

I don't know how or why that it became this way; neither do I judge. I just enjoy. And now that we're entering our fourth year of our marriage, this has become the most ironclad rule in our marriage. Everything else is open for discussion; the once-monthly emergence of Trisha is not. And it's not unfair to state that I am just as in tune with her monthly cycle as she is. Most couples don't willingly invite a female third wheel into their partnership; we do so with open arms and usually a long, intimate and ultimately messy night.

I bid you a fond farewell. You see, I'm wearing this stunning yellow sundress as I sit on the deck of our home. Jasmine texted me that she has just left the shop. I sip the last of my iced tea before I text her that I'm shutting my phone off. And then do exactly that. And then I climb the steps to our master bedroom. I'll spare you the details; suffice it to say that I am immersed in the feminine each night that I sleep with my wife. And right now, as I await her return to the home, where she will find me dolled up, panties, plugged and chaste...well, it's going to be a long, pleasurable night. For us both.