It’s Transition Day!

It's been a long time coming and the fantasies of being a cuckold can now take place. Not that I have my wife Barb's approval, but it's obvious between us changes are necessary.

Sexually we were not full filling each other. Time was starting to rob me of virility and it irritated Beth when I would approach her. Beth's responses to any amorous advances or requests had transformed from a polite "not now" to a more irritated tone of "leave me alone."

Under these circumstances it was always a surprise when we did have sex. Things expressed in the bedroom were spoken in terms like "let's get this over with", "ok now get off", "I've had enough, stop!"and the stereotypical "are you through yet"are just a small sample of the litany of remarks made near the end of our poorly described "love making."

Please understand it was not Beth's fault to react as she did. I was cursed with a small dick. Of course, that's my evaluation of having a 5 & 7/8" penis (yes, I measured it and I probably made adjustments to make these numbers into a consolation calculation). I told myself it's probably normal in size and it's up to the woman to get into the act and make the best of this pencil thin penetrator.

So the wife suffered the frustration of forcing herself to spread her legs and endure the premature ejaculations with drippy cum.

The goal now was to have Beth recognize it was time an Alpha male should be streaming ropes of semen into her pussy.

Beth's first marriage right out of college was to a guy who enjoyed sex and had the stamina of a true stud. Unfortunately, she came home one day to find him drilling some other college girl in their wedding bed.

Beth loathing of her ex's sex drive was something I wouldn't wish on anybody. Just thinking about how Beth scheduled our sex life made it apparent she was in charge in marriage #2.

But to make matters worse, Beth had her rotating "Girl Friday" wine parties. Once bottle number two was uncorked the women made sure to entertain each other with stories of their romantic encounters past and present.

It was a outstanding joke amongst the husbands when the men got together that these romantic tales were expressed loud enough no matter where one was in the house. As far as the husbands were concerned, it was the reason for the Girl Friday rule to be out of the house when the party invite was at their house. But some parties lasted longer than others. If a husband got home prior to it ending, the impression was which wife had imbibed the most to reveal bragging rights for the week.

One participant was recently divorced and would always describe her latest conquest as having the biggest dick.

To the others it seemed the challenge was on and Beth enjoying the wine would not hesitate to confide to her friends her romantic achievements while at the university.

Beth is an intelligent, full breasted, gorgeous girl who was anything but shy especially under the influence of alcohol. Her bragging rights were college baseball players, a few future doctors, and all to soon to be successful businessmen.

The extra college curricular activities took their toll and to salvage her education it required a transfer to a far away institution. Not surprisingly, she was sent to a school having a curriculum dedicated to preparing students for a moral and spiritual life culminating with a diploma.

Such devotion to the new alma mater transformed this young vivacious female into a bride vowing to love, honor, and obey albeit with fond memories of her affaires de/du coeur behind her.

I guess to her merit, she felt it was time to settle into the hither lands with the endowed male of her choice...rich, and subsequently able to provide her the comforts of living a dream come true. And deposited she was; Iiving large on a ranch of gigantic proportions.

I imagined the stud horses surrounding her on this ranch mesmerized her real life yearnings for those carefree days of fucking former well hung schoolmates and now she had without hesitation divorced an endowed cheating stud male husband to begin again in the big city. Alas, Beth's fairy tale at the stud farm was not meant to be.

As if in a play, this is where I enter the scene: a new neighbor, in a new neighborhood, in a major metro area. I was a redeployed by the company and most likely chosen for this transfer simply because I was very much single.

Of course, Beth is the girl next door. I tried my best not to have sex with Beth under the circumstances since dating and living proximity I knew we're constraining. Nevertheless, wedding bells rang twelve months later. But why did she pick me?

I'm not totally bad to look at for one thing, being successfully employed another, and what I lacked in male anatomy I made up for in tongue and gentle fingers. It was her goal apparently to cohabitate with someone other than a philanderer regardless of the size of his dick.

That seems all well and good except I became the poster boy for all the wrongs a male could commit on any given day or week including sexual performance.

So what makes this tale a transition day event? Well, if performance is what she wants I thought performance is what she shall have. I bought some lifelike dildos and the harness to wear and of course the penises I purchased were huge and of course she immediately turned me down as sick and totally ridiculous looking when wearing "that contraption." After begging and whining once more, I was allowed to purchase another really lifelike 6 inch dildo but the shaft had a girth barely bigger than what I was cursed with in my twenties.

It sounds crazy but I did enjoy the ability of approaching sex with an erection I knew was not prone to premature ejaculation. Instead, I was using various rhythms, angles, and depths to promote her heavy breathing. From my point of view, it was true love and joy to be able to pound her pussy while stretching her vagina in multiple directions. Just being able to pull out of her to see a well used and bright pink hole gave me all the satisfaction I needed.

But the memory of the first time with my tiny prick literally "falling" into her pussy haunted me like a bad dream. It was like losing my balance at the edge of some cliff with a powerless decent into darkness type of nightmare. It repeated itself every time we were naked. Somehow this nightmare had to be purged. I'd get through this with my own form of psycho analysis. I created a fetish. I couldn't satisfy myself or expect her to be satisfied with something that was just a "facsimile" of me. I had purchased those trophy dildos for a reason and it was to take the necessary steps to have my spouse recover from her demons as well. She had a personality that was high-spirited before, so why not help us both?

I told my wife I wanted to be an alpha male with more girth and length. Two inches in diameter and 8 inches insertable was the new me. Of course, the controlling person that she is was came quick with a adamant response of "no" followed by statements of me not caring about her pain and discomfort. These warnings were all meant to dishearten me and I knew better.

She's the one who mentioned some of those past lovers and it was time for her to relive those fine fucking moments even if it was with her pseudo phallic husband. Again she was saying "no" all the way to the bed but her legs quickly parted as I moved towards her strapped into my harness with a much larger dildo dripping warm lubricant from its tip. It seemed reckless as to how easy it was to maneuver my hand across her mound and I immediately was able to rub her clit without the normal utterance of directive instruction. The cock head mushroom could hardly wait while I was massaging with fingertips pressing and squeezing flesh around her mons. The shaft had taken over from my fingers and began vertical motions on her lips. This pseudo skinned phallus was about to reward me with the "cocksure" command to start humping and rotating my hips.

In response, the woman beneath me began to drift off into a dreamlike state, eyes closed, facial features totally relaxed while the phallus girth stretched slowly into her canal seeking total depth. Her lack of eye contact made it perceptibly clear I was no longer in the room. It was as if I had just become an abstraction, a inattentive ghost watcher while her body reacted not to me but to a former lover. A sweat sheen was starting to coat us both from the constant thrusting and her hips struggling to respond in kind. It didn't matter to me that I was no longer the focus of her lovemaking. In fact, I got excited just knowing the orgasmic animal like sounds that were coming from her in waves were so foreign that it caused me to imagine I was actually screwing someone else as well. Beth continued to prove me right with more spasms, grinding motions, and taunt hands grasping at me, attempting a caress in an act of love to her imaginary toy boy. Things were now beginning to change from the world I once fucked in. Transition day had come.

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