Husband and Wife Ch. 02

"You're bluffing."

"The hell I am! You don't have a pokerface to save your life. Read 'em, bitch."

Emily lays out her full house and her partner Rendi howls in disbelief.

"How dare you!" she whines, "Beating me so harshly, I'm wounded."

"Oh yeah? What are you gonna do about it? Wanna fuck about it?"

I interject, "On your own time, comrades. Who needs another drink?"

My husband and I are hosting Emily and Rendi for dinner. A half-consumed platter of burgers cools on the kitchen counter as we play cards. I can't lie to anyone even when I try, not since I stopped lying to myself anyway, but Emily can hide her intentions behind a granite mask. Only the occasional fleeting smirk evidences her true feelings.

"I could go for another whiskey, babe," my husband says, handing me his glass.

"Another soda for me," Emily waves me off, "But this thirsty one could probably handle another beer."

"I'm thirsty?" Rendi glares, "Look who's fucking talking!" After glowering at her partner she admits sheepishly, "I could handle another beer, actually."

They continue to bicker goodheartedly as I flow into the kitchen. I smile at our little group, cherishing these easy moments. We've all been to hell and back and it's a little triumph to laugh together now. My husband sips water in silence but from his relaxed shoulders I can see how at ease he is.

Once I return and pass out the drinks, Emily asks me, "So how's the job, hon?"

"Oh you know, same old same old. I compose arcana and corpers complain about it when it breaks. I take my craft seriously but there's never really the time or money to do it right. The C-suite wants everything yesterday and the juniors are still only half-trained. I still don't know if the product has ever helped a single human being."

She nods, "So it is, so it is."

Emily works in IT while I develop software, so we share some professional interests but have distinct perspectives. It's her job to pass the buck to people like me when our works inevitably fail, to pass it back to users when they do something stupid, and to manage all the blasted machinery inbetween.

"Capitalism," Rendi declares, "Can never afford a good thing worth a damn!"

"Don't I know it, love," Emily clinks her bottle against her partner's and it becomes a toast.

My husband leads, "To the end of capitalism!" and we each cheer the same.

In the course of conversation, Emily says, "You know, Rendi's coming up on her pussy's third anniversary. I'm planning a party. Y'all are invited, naturally."

"Rendi, is that so? Congratulations!" I exclaim.

"Thanks," she blushes, "I feel at home with it, finally. It's not a cis woman's pussy. It's mine. All it took was years of dilation and, before that, years of agitating hostile insurance workers."

"But you did it," I assert, "And I'm so proud of you."

"Me too, babe," Emily says, her eyes glimmering with warmth as she regards her partner, "You put in the work, and now I get to ream your beautiful neo-nethers night and day."

Rendi takes a long swig from her beer to hide her turning crimson, but she's even more red by the time she puts her drink down. She offers only a weak, "Shut up, you."

Emily grins smugly, shoving her partner with a broad shoulder. If I am not a giantess then Emily certainly is. She towers above us all, at least half a foot taller than I am. Transition softened her body, but with rippling muscles and a pink pixie cut she has fully embraced an identity as a gender demon.

"It doesn't matter what you think I am," she likes to say, "If you think I'm hot, that makes you gay."

Rendi is hardly more than half her size, svelte and lithe beside her partner's mass and breadth. Her small breasts nudge against her blouse and tight jeans hug her soft thighs and slender hips. As we get into another round of cards, she vows vengeance upon her love, "I'll get you this time!"

"Fat chance. You'll sooner get this dick."

My husband nurses his whiskey, listening attentively. I know he feels that, as the only cis person among us, he has a certain duty to make space for us. In a world that wants us categorically gone, these moments of peace and joy are like an oasis. Grateful for him, I catch his eye and flutter my eyelashes; I treasure his blush.

"What if we up the ante this time, huh?" Emily proposes, pulling out her wallet.

Before I know what I'm saying I gush, "I'd sooner bet my bra than a dollar against you!"

"Is that a fact?" she smirks, "Do it. You won't."

I look at my husband, a bit aghast, but he averts his gaze and hides his grin in his drink.

"Fine. You're on," I say defiantly, but I know I haven't got a chance in hell. I unhook my bra and my pendulous breasts drop and bounce, and then I've slammed it in the center of the table.

Emily ogles my bust dumbly before regaining her composure and taking her bra off too. Her own significant bosom relaxes once freed and her bra joins mine on the table. She turns to her partner and says with that husky timbre, "Ante up."

Rendi removes her black tee to reveal a frilly navy bustier that pushes her slight breasts up and together, creating hints of cleavage. My husband removes his button-up and I find myself sighing at the very sight of his rugged chest.

"Are we really doing this?" I ask gravely, knowing perfectly well where this sort of thing could lead.

Emily answers me as she deals the cards, "You bet we are."

A few hands and a few drinks later and the utterly expected has come to pass. Emily remains in her tanktop as I stand to take off my skirt. My husband is already nude and smiling from ear to ear while Rendi retains only her bustier and panties. Everyone is watching me as I undress. I'd be lying if I said I don't love how they marvel at the handiwork of my chosen body: my round hips, my cinched waist, and my bosom projecting like a balcony over the midnight shade of my corset. Once my skirt falls to the floor, Emily whistles.

"You got a fat package on you, hon," she says, sober but for her perpetually cavalier character, "I wouldn't mind playing with it sometime."

"I'd allow it," my husband offers unprompted. I don't even have the heart to glare at him. He and I have always had an open relationship, for I have always trusted him to come home to me just as I will always come home to him. All I can do is blush, helpless to keep my cock from twitching at the idea.

"I think she likes it," Emily laughs, "Are you ready to bet on it?"

"No, no, I think I'm done with poker..."

"Oh, well then..."

A moment passes as Rendi and I watch my husband and Emily share a series of serious expressions. May I? Will she? Are you sure? Of course. My husband shrugs and finishes his drink. Rendi looks at me and gestures with her chin toward my husband with similar intent. I assent with a wink.

"Fuck it," Emily exhales and stands up to her full height, and even that alone makes me bite my lip. She crosses around the table, a hand gracing the shoulders of her partner as she passes. Her huge palms grasp my little waist and she rasps, "Oh yes. This will be fun."

Her grip makes me shiver.

"Oh," my husband gasps, "Oh hello Rendi." She has crawled under the table to nuzzle her face between his legs, but he scoots back and invites her onto his lap, "Let's get to know each other first."

As Rendi begins to get lost in my husband's bright brown eyes, Emily explores my body. The truth is I love to feel small, and I am dwarfed by Emily's stature. My breasts are mere handfuls for her. Her touch is gentle like a caress, but a profound strength runs just beneath it like an alligator hiding in a river's depths.

"What's this?" she raises her glistening fingers to her squinting glare, "I can't believe it. You...!"

"I lactate," I grin with pride, "Yep."

"Oh-ho-ho-ho, that is extra. And I bet they're-" she squeezes a nipple hard and I cry out as my milk begins to spray, "Oh yes. Very sensitive. Get up here!"

She lifts me by the waist until I wrap my legs around hers, and then with giddy lust her eyes devour the curvature of the bust before her. She looks up at my face and I see that dumb blushing smile. I have given her control in this moment but that look tells me what I know: she treasures that I have chosen to share myself with her. With a hand caressing her cheek, I kiss her. Her soft lips press against mine and I whimper as our tongues touch tentatively.

"I'm going to fuck the shit out of you," she whispers in my ear. I take her chin in my fingers and direct her gaze to mine before I reply, "You'd better."

She buries her face in my cleavage to muffle her baritone laughter, and before I know it her lips are on my areola. She doesn't suckle and coax like my husband does, but adores with twirling, flicking licks and gentle sucking kisses. Holding her head to my chest I moan under such tender ministrations.

"Ah!" Emily exclaims as she pulls away from my right breast, "I would bottle this if I could."

My thoughts turn to the fridge in our garage that we've filled with my milk, that my husband uses in his coffee, that I use in baking, that never goes empty because I never run dry. My husband has overheard and we give each other flustered looks while Emily moves to my left areola.

"Well, actually..." I say, but Emily sends me to heaven with a hard tug from her lips. Panting I can only manage to say, "Maybe later," and I feel Emily's chuckle throughout my body.

My husband blushes as Rendi kisses his ears, and I see her lips whispering lewd things. I read on them the words, "Would you like that?" Now he's lost in her eyes, nodding with visceral anticipation. She goes from sitting on his lap to straddling him. He kisses the tops of her tits with eagerness and vim.

Emily pulls away from my own with a pop and sighs contentedly, "These are some quality udders. I want to watch them bounce as I'm fucking you."

With her slender cock nudging at the cleft of my ass I reply breathlessly, "I want you to fuck me."

"Slut," she retorts with a wicked grin, "Just you wait."

She carries me effortlessly to the couch in our living room, laying me down with care.

"Hold tight," she says, raising her hands palms out in placation, "I'll get my gear."

Her eyes burn for me before she steps out the front door. Buzzing with excitement I watch Rendi rotate her hips against my husband, her brow furrowed and mouth agape. Her clit grinds on his cock, intimating the penetration to come.

"You're big too," she pants, "Oh god. Your big fucking cock."

"Do you think it'll fit?"

"Oh baby," she clutches his hair, "I'm going to try."

Emily returns with a wooden box that only appears small in her one-handed grip. She lays it on the couch's ottoman and unlatches it to reveal a dozen vibrators and dildos of varying sizes and textures. Some are even larger than my husband.

"Your pick," she smiles.

"Do you not want to use your own?"

"Oh, I will. Think of these as augmentations."

I pick up the largest one, a girthy purple pole about ten inches from base to tip. It almost looks like an eggplant. My fingers find a recess for a bullet vibe, and a split at the base that contains a kind of soft pocket.

"Oh, I see," I blush, absentmindedly fingering the hole, "Augmentations."

"Size queen here with the obvious choice, huh?" she takes the dildo from me and places it on a towel she has laid out. She throws off her tanktop and gym shorts and immediately sets about strapping on a harness. Her wide breasts wobble with her confident motions. I can't help but stand to take a nipple in my mouth. She gasps right away but retains the focus to pull tight one last strap.

"You're sensitive too," I tease, "My busty giantess."

She emits a guffaw that pleasure cuts short, but then she has a hand on my shoulder that forces me to sit back down on the couch. She squeezes the dildo into the harness and then angles her member into it, sighing with the entry. Then she's standing proud with a massive mechadick and my face goes flush.

"I have plans for you," she says as she applies a condom to the contraption. She fits a bullet vibe into the recess but doesn't turn it on yet. "Get on your back and spread 'em. I'm going to make you spatter those huge tits."

To enforce her will she shoves me down into the cushions. She grips my thick thighs and moves them apart, getting to her knees before me. She kisses my growing shaft from the base to the crown, then back down with an open mouth and expeditious tongue. I run fingers through her thick hair and let my head drop back with a delighted moan when she takes the upright head of my cock between her lips. She maneuvers my hardness around the warm cavern of her mouth with a muscular tongue and gentle hand, and even there I feel small.

I bite my lip when our eyes meet, but her gaze goes to the wobble of my breasts, tracking them with interest, even amazement.

"You like these?" I ask, and she nods with my cock still in her mouth. I gather my right boob in both hands, directing my nipple into my waiting lips. She moans into my member as I drink my own milk, and in turn I whine around the turgid bump. Then I cross into the rising action of my orgasm and I can no longer focus but to squeeze my thighs around Emily's face, but before they touch her she has slipped away from me to wet her equipment.

"Did I say you could close your legs? I said spread 'em," she commands, forcing my long legs apart again, "You're not allowed to cum yet."

"Rendi's right," I pout, "You're mean."

She only laughs and proceeds to line up her mechadick with my bussy. She's kneeling on the floor and still she has to lift me up by one leg to get the proper angle. Then I feel her there, the girth itself spreading my cheeks. With one hand holding me up by the calf, the other grips my hip and pulls me in.

"Ohh, you're easy, huh?" she chuckles as she penetrates me. I whimper in response as my body welcomes her entrance. Her grip is so firm that she's totally controlling the rate of my descent. I am like a toy in her hands.

The unfamiliar size and shape of her equipment excites me. I feel myself expanding to take her piece, my insides stretching like I would stretch a muscle. With focused breath and a slow approach, she opens me deeper and deeper. Inches pass in hours while I relax my deepest parts around her, until I feel her width taper and I know I've got this. The last few inches rush into me and I groan with satisfaction. I rotate my hips and pull a pillow to my face to muffle my cry, but Emily plucks it away. She is supporting my weight with her hips rather than her hands now.

"Why? Let me hear you want it."

So drilling my gaze into her eyes I beg, "I want you to fuck me, Emily."

But before she goes on, we hear Rendi give her own cry. We turn our heads to see her taking the second and third inches of my husband. She's gritting her teeth and rolling her hips, taking more, millimeter by diligent millimeter. She's only wearing her bustier now; my husband is living it up between her perky tits. The chair beneath them shudders with their movements.

"I'm glad they're having fun," Emily says, and then pressing her hips into my ass she continues, "I'm having fun too."

I furrow my brow and issue a simpering huff as her enormous cock shifts inside of me. I wrap my leg around her hip and begin to bounce on her equipment, fucking myself needily. Her hand returns to my hip to still me.

"I'm in control here," she informs me, "Until I'm done, your body belongs to me."

Then she's moving me up and slowly pulling her package out of me before sliding it back in. She repeats this process with more force each time and I am helpless but to grip pillows and grit my teeth while my erection bobs and my tits bounce. Before long she's pounding into me, and still from her fluid and exacting control of her body I know she is only using a fraction of her strength. She could fuck me apart if she wanted to. She's battering my prostate and it's driving me over the edge. My howls rise and I squeeze my tits for dear life until I pass the threshold and my cock begins to spew cum. Just as Emily had intended, the ropes of my sperm fall strewn across my breasts. (A thought pierces my awareness as I dribble spunk onto the fabric of my corset: I'll have to send it to the dry cleaner.)

But Emily isn't done yet. She's still fucking me. She's breathing hard now, especially after seeing me paint my chest.

"That's a very good slut," she rumbles triumphantly, "Doing just as I asked. You deserve a reward."

I'm seeing stars as I come down, but with her continuing insistence inside of me my cock remains half-erect even once I've stopped shooting cum. Absentmindedly I begin to rub it into my breasts as they jiggle from her thrusts. I feel like I'm dreaming.

"Alright", she rumbles, slowing down, "I've decided I want to cum inside of you on all fours, like the bitch in heat you are."

My cock throbs. All my words have left me already, so I simply nod and moan again. I whine in disappointment as she draws herself from my ass, and then she gathers me into her arms and carries me to the floor. I realize Rendi is immediately to my right, and my husband is eating her out, avidly adoring her big clit with his tongue.

"Hello Rendi," I mumble through the bliss. Her eyes are screwed shut as she pants, but she opens them and looks at me pleadingly.

"He's so good," she mouths, and then she's arching her back and screwing her eyes shut. Her hand grabs mine and squeezes it with all her might until she summits the mount of her orgasm, but I hear in the gasp as she relaxes that she isn't done. She clutches my husband's short hair as he works. He isn't done either.

"Hands and knees, darling," Emily returns my focus to her. She is squeezing the base of her mechadick with one hand as she waits on me, subtly pleasuring herself in the interim.

It feels like the hardest thing I've done all day just to turn over, but then my ass is up in the air and Emily is righting me with those huge hands on my wide hips. My aching bussy swallows her again, faster this time even as she remains so gentle. I feel her need inside of me, and I even feel her flesh twitch through the dildo once she is seated all the way into me. Then she turns on the vibe.

The buzz echoes from that little machine throughout her mechadick, radiating out into my core. My prostate is vibrating, and my whole consciousness feels a hit when she drives her log of a cock into me. My own distends with the new stimulus, right away beginning to drip precum. At first I yelp with shock; now I yip in pleasure with each thrust, almost involuntarily.

"Look at you," I can hear her smirk, "So submissive and breedable."

Words have power and hers overpower me. I melt into the carpet, flattening my breasts against the floor as I press my ass back against her, whining with elation.

"How do you like your wife now?" Emily asks my husband. I look around my shoulder to see him peeking over Rendi's mons. His smile glitters in his gaze as I send him all my love. He removes his tongue from her pussy and replies, "I love her even more, all the time."

"Lovebirds," Emily scoffs, though Rendi is staring at her with such depth of emotion. They're in love too, I realize. Then Emily begins to pump her cock in me again, but with the intent and focus of Rendi's burning stare I know Emily is looking at her as she fucks me.

"Oh yeah," she utters through her teeth, "That's good. Take it. Take it you slut. Hng, huhn."

I've fought through enough of the pleasure-haze to begin flexing my insides around her cock, hungrily seeking to milk her load into me. I time myself with her quick grunts and firm thrusts until her breath catches and with a long groan, she cums into her equipment. While she's still pumping her spunk into the mechadick inside of me, Rendi presses my husband's face against her pussy and cries out from the highest cliffs of the night's final orgasm. I watch the waves of it cascade over her, through every tensing and relaxing muscle, as Emily slows her pace. Her grip on my hips loosens and becomes a tender touch, stroking my softness there. Then she turns off the vibe and I feel strangely like I've returned to solid ground.