Husband and Wife Ch. 01

Chasers are always a complex topic in those circles. They're perceived as essentializing our bodies, of trans and intersex people alike, but cis women are certainly essentialized as well. It's something small men of all sexualities do because they can't fit our totality in their constrained worldview. Something ancient has them in a vice, spinning their weakness into a brew of lust, hate, and fear until they would as soon fuck me as kill me. That enduring being, my formless foe, it doesn't care about these men. They are mere pawns in the campaign to eradicate our very possibility.

But some chasers are just people with an interest, which does not conflict with their ability to engage us as freethinking individuals. As much as I had needs, so did my husband, and he had his own truth to confront. His first wife begrudgingly bore a strap-on to please him, but she couldn't understand why he wanted to suck off an inanimate object and he couldn't stand that it didn't react to him. It all came apart for him when she learned he had been having a tryst with a coworker, and even then he only put up with his paramour's masculinity because he had a fat package. My husband deflected his confusion into bad decisions. I could relate.

"Of course she caught us at a work party," he confessed on one of our first dates, "She barged into the men's and I swear I've never looked at anyone with more shame than when his dick popped out of my mouth and I turned to see my wife aghast."

After she packed her bags and slammed the door, he spent his newfound solitude contemplating feelings that terrified him.

"I asked myself why the first thing I thought whenever I had undressed a girlfriend was, 'I hope she has a dick.' Confronting that that was something I needed in a partner as much as femininity itself... Well. After a great deal of introspection, I began to find the places I could meet women duly equipped. I wasn't after just sex. I wanted to build a future with someone I would desire forever, and I had finally admitted what that meant to me. And then I met you."

And then he met me indeed. We dated for a year or so, camping and hiking and fucking in the woods. Then we moved in together, and two years later he proposed to me.

"I don't want to waste any more time," he had said, "I'm putting a ring on it."

The night I said I do I pounded his ass until he came on his own chest. But tonight I'm kneeling on our bed, nude but for my bridal corset and a frilly dove-white shrug. He stands dumbfounded by my rigid member twitching before him.

"It still fits, honey," I bat my eyes with hands flat atop my naked breasts, "But you know what else fits?"

"We'll see what fits where, temptress," he growls as he climbs onto the bed and pushes me down by my shoulders. Wedging my legs apart with his own until I decide to wrap them around him, he grinds our cocks together and smothers me with a kiss. I feel him shifting to reposition, wriggling his hips down so that he'll be able to penetrate me, so I flip him by his chest and hip onto his back.

"No," I decree, "I'm taking you this time, my faithful."

"Of course, goddess," he blushes. After I wet my cock, I grab his legs and lift his lower half so I can thrust up into him. He ogles my curves, the very sight of me taking his breath away as I prepare to give him my fullness. He reaches for my breasts as I line myself up to enter him, but his arms fly back to the pillows when I lower him onto my hardness. I have him well-trained at this point; he offers no resistance and opens to me easily. His guts cradle my length.

"Good," I sigh, "I'm in you now, my love."

"Oh goddess," he groans, "I feel you!"

"Mmm, then feel this," I declare and begin to thrust, slapping my pelvis against his firm butt. He's massaging me with twitching muscles as his calves tense on my shoulders. His eyes screw shut then fly open, his stupefied gaze meeting mine, exuding bare lust. He moans and I feel the deep timbre throughout our bodies as his stiff cock wags in the air.

He has cum more recently than I have so I realize I'm unlikely to outlast him, but I certainly try. With gritted teeth I huff and whine and grip his hip and thigh ever tighter, but he's grinning now. His bobbing pole is well under his control.

"Do it, bitch," he laughs, "Cum in me."

So I do. Caught in a silent scream I start blasting, jet after jet launching from my shaft and into my husband. Once I gasp and begin to breathe again he says, "Good girl."

I spend a blissful moment basking in his praise before I shake it off and slap his ass indignantly.

"You doofus. I'm the one doing the fucking. How can you top me even now?"

"It doesn't matter," he smiles, "It never mattered. It was always you, my wife. A very good girl. Now, come up here. I want to look you in the eyes as you return the favor."

I slowly withdraw and lower his legs to the sheets. Climbing atop him, I spread my legs around his waist so I can sit on his hardness. He places his hands on my thighs as I wet him and then guide him inside of me. His hands move to my waist and he helps me move up and down atop him. After all we've done today, this one's for savoring.

"My goddess," he sighs.

I whimper, "My Apollo. Now and forever."

With gentle strokes he replies, "Forever."

My breasts bounce gently as we roll our hips together, his thrusts growing leisurely at this late hour. His eyes scan my body with rapture but they linger on mine, desiring; belonging. He raises a hand to my cheek and I nuzzle against it. I follow it down until we are chest to chest, my breasts spreading out over his pecs, and with misty gaze closing our lips melt together.

And like that, with his cock tenderly exploring my loving hole, he holds me by the hips until he crosses a final hill. With a shuddering groan he squeezes one last load into me; a few pleasing pulses. I kiss his cheek and snuggle into his neck, but his deep and even breathing tells me he's already fallen asleep, hardly moments after his orgasm.

I get up to take off my corset, but before long I crawl back under the covers beside him and cuddle up next to his warmth. Without even waking up he wraps an arm around me to rest a hand on my hip while I cuddle down into his shoulder.

We have done those things we needed to do to live our lives as ourselves, at peace with our pasts and futures. We took stock of our principles and our possibilities and chose to bind them with love and effort, and the product of that work belongs entirely to us. He is my husband. I am his wife. We have become everything we wanted.

Are you as brave?