"Roberta, we need to talk." I said as my wife got into bed.
"About what?" She had her people magazine so I knew she didn't want to talk, she wanted to read.
"This is difficult, but I have to say it." I cleared my throat and looked for the right words. "I want your permission to cheat."
She stared at me for a moment. "Are you out of your fucking mind?" She asked.
"C'mon, be reasonable. I mean, how long has it been since we had sex?"
"That's all you ever think about --sex."
"Because I never get any!" I said. "Do you even remember the last time?"
"What about Halloween?"
"That was a handjob, that doesn't count." I said. "Besides, it was done with very little enthusiasm as I recall."
"Well I'm sorry, but there's no way I'm letting you stick that thing in me." She said. "I'd rather keep all of my orifices un-prodded if you don't mind."
"See, that's just it." I said. "The very idea of sex is disgusting to you. But me, I need it Roberta. If I don't have sex soon I'm gonna go crazy!"
"Don't be so dramatic." She said. "I know what you do in your study, typing away on your computer late at night. Typing with one hand no doubt."
"That's not the same." I said. "I need physical contact."
"Poor baby." She said with all the sarcasm she could muster. She leaned over to the intercom box on her nightstand and pressed the button to talk. "Jeremy, mommy needs a drink." She said into the machine.
The voice of our teenage son came out of the little speaker. "But mommy, I'm studying." He said.
"Bring mommy a gin-fizz with a lime." Roberta said into the machine. "And don't talk back." The silence on the other end meant that he was complying.
"Alcohol makes everything better, doesn't it dear?" I asked her.
"Yes." She said. She opened her magazine and pretended to read.
"I never got an answer to my question." I said. "Do I have your permission to seek sexual satisfaction outside of this dead marriage?"
"No." She said. "And if you give me a reason to divorce you, I'll take it, and I'll make you pay."
"You're an irrational cow." I said. Jeremy came in and served her-royal-highness her drink, and asked if she needed anything else. She told him he had to clean the downstairs bathroom and rake the yard in the morning and then she let him go. He slouched out of the room with his head hanging down, a posture I'd gotten used to over the past week. "You're also a tyrant." I said, standing up. "I'm going to my study to jack off."
I should explain something here. We don't usually treat our son like a butler, but he was on punishment. Why? I'm glad you asked. My son had been suspended from school for sending 'inappropriate' pictures of himself to his gym coach.
Imagine how Roberta reacted. You would've thought he'd killed someone or raped a nun or something. The school said we were lucky they hadn't gotten the police involved and that they would've been forced to get the police involved if Jeremy hadn't turned eighteen the month before.
I wasn't particularly shocked to find out that Jeremy was gay, I just wondered why he wouldn't go after someone closer to his own age. Hell, I kinda admired the kid for taking a shot if you want to know the truth. When I was his age I was afraid to ask a girl out on a date, and here Jeremy was- emailing naked pictures of himself to his gym coach. There's a generation gap for ya.
He was suspended for a month and Roberta decreed that he was grounded and would have to do any chores around the house that needed doing. Of course, crazy bitch that she is, she quickly started taking advantage of the situation, making him give her foot-rubs and tend bar. The whole thing made me sick to my stomach.
I went down to my study and opened up my favorite video file on my computer. It was a girl tied up and blindfolded being fucked in the ass by a much older man. I'd been down there about fifteen minutes, and had just started really stroking, when there was a knock at the door. "What?" I called out, yanking up my shorts. The door started to open and I X'd out of the video file just in time.
Jeremy was standing there looking embarrassed, like he knew what I'd been doing. "Uh, mommy said I should come down here and see if you needed anything." He said.
"No Jeremy, I'm fine."
"Okay, sorry." He said. He turned and left the room. I was pissed. Roberta was selfish, self-righteous, and had a sick sense of humor, but this was beyond even her. Sending our son to interrupt me. She was probably upstairs laughing about it. I figured she must be drunk already.
The next evening after work I was in the den, trying to relax with leftover Chinese food, a beer and a basketball game on TV, when Jeremy came in with a feather-duster and started dusting the shelves. Roberta. She knew I was having a nice moment so she sent him in here to disrupt it, just like the night before. I decided I wasn't going to let her succeed.
"Jeremy, you want to take a break from the dusting and watch the game for awhile?"
"Maybe later." He said, looking down. He went back to dusting a bookshelf that didn't need it.
"She won't even know." I said. "If she asks I'll tell her that you were dusting the whole time."
"No, I better not." He said, still looking down. "Are you done with that beer?"
I said I was and when he came over to take it his face looked strange. "Jeremy --look at me." I said. He looked at me and I saw that he was wearing bright red lipstick. Tears were welling up in his eyes. "Why are you wearing lipstick?" I asked.
"M, Mommy says I have to." He said as the first tear ran down his cheek. "She says it's part of my punishment."
"That's crazy." I said. "C'mere." I got a couple of tissues and started wiping the lipstick off. "This has gone too far now, I'll have a word with your mother. Now go, get out of here."
As he left I realized I was feeling odd. I was getting hard. It was a confusing hard-on because I didn't know seeing my son humiliated would be such a turn on. I wasn't ready for it. I undid my pants and took hold of my cock. I pictured his ruby lips and the tears coming down his cheeks as I stroked. It wasn't long before I exploded cum everywhere.
"Roberta, you can't make our son wear lipstick. It's fucked up." I said, climbing into bed beside her.
"If he's going to behave like a little slut I think he should look like one too."
"So he has to wear lipstick while he dusts shelves that don't need it?"
"I don't think you realize just how sick that son of yours really is. He wears lipstick up there in his room when he's all alone. He told me so." She said.
"He told you that?"
"Yes." She said. "I went through his room and found a pair of my panties and one of my bras stashed away with his winter clothes. When I confronted him about it he told me he likes to dress up and wear lipstick and eye shadow. He said he would dress up and fantasize about that horrible gym coach. You should've heard the things he wanted that man to do to him."
"You asked him about his sexual fantasies?"
"I like to know what's going on in my own house. I don't think a person should do anything in private that they would be ashamed to do in public. That's why he has to wear lipstick when he cleans from now on."
"Why not make him wear a dress?" I asked.
"He'd probably like that. Freud would say that he subconsciously wants to get it all out in the open, I'm just helping him along. I don't want him thinking he can keep dirty little secrets. That's not healthy." She leaned over and pressed the talk button on the intercom. "Jeremy, could you come in here please?"
He came in wearing sweatpants and no shirt. He's a skinny kid and his hair hangs down almost to his eyes. "Yeah?" He said.
"Your father and I were talking about your punishment." She said. "The lipstick, will you please tell your father why you must wear it?"
"It's to get everything out in the open." He said to me.
"And?" Roberta prompted.
"And because it's wrong to do stuff that you don't want other people to know about. Especially your mommy and daddy."
"That's right because it will all come out eventually anyway, just like those pictures you sent to your teacher." Roberta said. "Which brings me to my point. I think it's time your father took a look at those pictures that caused all this trouble."
"B-But I deleted them!" He cried.
"You are going to send those pictures to your father's email, and you're going to do it tonight. We know there were five pictures and since your camera is confiscated, you won't be able to substitute them."
"Don't lie." She snapped. "You wont get in any more trouble unless you don't send them or you try to send substitutes. Your father might not even look at them --knowing he has them should be bad enough."
Tears were streaming down his face and he had his arms crossed in front of him, like he was trying to curl into a ball. "Don't cry." I said. "You don't have to send them. Don't listen to her."
Roberta turned to me. "If you feel that way then just don't look at them." She said. "But he still has to send them." She turned her attention back to our crying son. "Go send them right now. And before you go, would you please explain to your father that you like wearing lipstick?"
Jeremy looked back at me and bit his bottom lip. "I like wearing it." He said.
I had a hard time getting to sleep that night. I was lying there rock-hard, but I couldn't do anything about it with Roberta next to me. It was after two in the morning when I was finally sure that she was asleep. I slipped out of bed and tip-toed downstairs to my study. When I opened my inbox and saw a new message from Jeremy, with the little paperclip that indicated attachments, my mouth went dry and my hands started shaking. His message begged me not to open the pictures.
Maybe I'm going straight to hell, but I didn't even consider not looking at them. The first pic was a full body shot of Jeremy in his room. He was wearing a panties and a bra he had stuffed with something. He had a hand on his hip and was staring at the camera like a fashion model. I slowly started rubbing the tip of my cock which was wet with pre-cum.
In the next one he was leaning in to the camera with his two middle fingers stuck in his mouth. You could see his tongue against his fingers, and he looked like he was imagining that he was sucking cock. I imagined it was mine and started slowly stroking.
I almost came when I saw the next picture. Jeremy was totally nude, on his hands and knees with his ass to the camera. He was looking over his shoulder and reaching back, spreading his ass-cheeks, opening up his pretty little anus.
The next pic was a close up of his asshole with his two middle fingers buried deep in it. I was really on edge now, and I had to slow down so I wouldn't come before I saw the last picture. The last one was a wider shot. He still had his fingers up his ass, and he was jacking off with his other hand. He was lying on his bed and on his chest, written in lipstick, was the word 'daddy'. I came so hard some of it hit the computer screen.
When I crawled back into bed Roberta asked me how I liked the pictures. "They're nice." I said.
After that night things got crazy pretty quickly. I got home from work early the next day and found Roberta in bed, claiming she had a headache. As I was getting out of my work clothes she told me she had something she wanted to say. I braced myself. I figured I was about to be harshly rebuked for sneaking off to look at dirty pictures of our son the night before.
"I've been thinking about what you asked me the other day. About your need for sexual satisfaction." She said. "And I want to tell you that if you go outside of this house for sex, I will make you pay. Do you understand? You are not to go outside of this house. I won't have you making a fool out of me. People talk you know."
When I thought about what she said I was dumbfounded. She wasn't going to have sex with me and the only other person in the house was Jeremy. She was basically telling me that if I wanted sex I should have sex with him!
She leaned over and hit the intercom button. "Jeremy, your father is home and he's probably hungry, why don't you come see what he wants?" She released the intercom button and turned to me. "We went shopping together today, wait'll you see what I got him. I think you'll like it."
The door opened very slowly and Jeremy shuffled in with his head down. He was wearing a short, frilly, black and white maids dress. He looked deeply shamed. "Oh Roberta!" I said. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"It was your idea." She said.
"Last night didn't you say 'why not make him wear a dress?'"
"I was just making a point and you know it." I said. "Look at him Roberta, he obviously hates it."
"Oh, he's just being shy in front of his daddy, aren't you Jeremy?" Jeremy kept his head down and said nothing. "Jeremy!" Roberta shouted. "Look at me when I'm talking to you." He looked up at her with a crimson face, then glanced at me and quickly looked down again. "Oh well," she said, "he'll get over it eventually. Jeremy, go make your father a grilled cheese sandwich and he'll keep you company. Remember what I told you and turn off the lights on your way out, my head is throbbing."
I followed my son downstairs, taking in the sight of his long, shaved legs as we went. I sat at the kitchen table while he went about silently preparing me a sandwich. "Jeremy, you don't have to wear that get-up if you don't want to." I said.
"Mommy says I have to."
"I know but if you're uncomfortable in it, I could talk to her." I said. "Are you uncomfortable?"
"Um, no, I mean... It's okay." He said, putting some butter in a frying pan.
"Do you like wearing it?" I asked.
He looked at me with a bright red face, full of uncertainty and shame. "I uh, I don't know." He said.
"Well you look incredible in it." I said. "really beautiful. It really sows off your gorgeous legs."
He giggled and stared hard at me, like he couldn't believe I had said that. "Mommy helped me shave them this morning." He said. "You really think I look good?"
"Jeremy, you're one of the most beautiful girls I've ever seen."
He let out another giggle and ran over and threw his arms around me, squeezing me tight. "Thanks daddy!" He said.
I stood up. "You're welcome sweetheart, it's the truth." I said. "I'll be right back."
"Are you going to pee?" He asked me. I must have looked at him strangely. "Mommy says I have to go in with you when you pee. I have to clean up. She says you have bad aim."
"You're supposed to come in with me?"
"Yes. I have to clean up while you're going."
"While I'm going?"
"I don't suppose I get a say." I said. He looked nervous, like he didn't know how to respond. "Well, come on then." I said. "If that's what mommy wants." He turned off the stove and followed me into the downstairs bathroom. He pulled a length of toilet paper off the roll and crouched down right next to the toilet bowl. I can't tell you how it made me feel to see him crouching there in his little French maids outfit. "Is that where you have to be?" I asked. "Because that's sort of a dangerous spot."
"Mommy says I have to wipe it up immediately if any hits the rim of the toilet bowl." He sounded like he was afraid I was going to tell him to move.
"Alright," I said, unzipping my pants, "but if you get splashed, don't say I didn't warn you." I knew I'd better go quickly because the way things were going it would be impossible to pee in a moment. I reached in my boxers and pulled out my cock. I have a fat cock, and it was getting fatter and longer by the second.
My son gasped and his eyes went wide as he stared at my member. I pointed it at the water and unleashed a powerful stream. I had to lean forward a bit and as I saw my boy staring and swaying back and forth like he was drunk, I started to get harder.
Maybe you won't believe me, but it really was an accident. It's not easy to control your stream when you're getting hard. I was all finished except for two sizable squirts and they both landed on my son's face. He moaned and fell back onto the tile floor. He had his eyes closed and I saw some of my piss dripping off his lip into my mouth. His skirt was tented out in front and he had one hand on the edge of the sink and the other on the edge of the toilet, and he was gasping for breath.
I put my cock away and left the bathroom quickly. The whole situation was a little scary, it had all happened so fast. I went back to the kitchen and got myself a beer. I turned the stove back on and continued making the sandwich Jeremy had started in order to have something to do. It was almost done when he came in. "Hey, I was supposed to do that." He said.
"Jeremy, I'm sorry." I said. "I really didn't mean to..."
"It's okay." He said.
"I guess your mother is right." I said, flipping the sandwich onto the plate. "I really do have bad aim."
He laughed. "She said you should just pee in the shower. That way it would all go down the drain."
I laughed. "Maybe I'll do that." I said.
He looked straight at me. "If you do, I should get in there and clean up while you go."
"Yeah," I said, looking straight back at my horny son, "that's a good idea." He opened the fridge and pulled out another beer for me. "I'm still working on this one." I said.
"Well this one's here when you're done with that one." He said. He started cleaning the pan while I chugged the beer. I finished the one I had and the other one, and when he cleared my plate he brought me a third. I had just opened my fourth when I had to go again. Jeremy looked like he was uncomfortable waiting there by the sink.
"Time for another bathroom break." I said, standing up. "Come on." He walked in front of me this time, swishing his little ass as he went. When we were both in the bathroom I shut and locked the door. "You better take that pretty dress off." I said. "You don't want to ruin it." He pulled the dress up over his head and tossed it on the floor. He was wearing a red bra and matching thong. "That's sexy underwear." I said.
"Mommy says that I'm a slut and all sluts wear thongs." He said.
"You better take it off so you don't get it wet." I said.
He yanked the thong off, revealing his long, curved, uncircumcised cock. He was completely shaved. He pulled his bra off last and looked at me with the same nervous, shy expression he had given me in the kitchen. His cock wasn't shy though, it was sticking straight out, and starting to curve up. "Get in the tub." I said.
He obeyed and got down on his knees facing me. I unbuckled my pants and pulled out my semi-hard cock. My son was staring at my cock, looking like he was in pain. He was breathing hard and he began slowly stroking himself.
My stream hit him on his chest, cascading down his legs and dripping off his balls. "Hmmmm! Oh! That's nice!" He squealed, staring at my tool and jacking himself faster. I moved my stream up to his face and he shut his eyes and opened his mouth, letting my piss shower over him. "Oh yeah! Spray it daddy! Spray it all over me!"
I directed my steam to his hard cock where he was furiously pleasuring himself, and then sent the last of my spray up into his hair. When he wiped the urine away from his eyes and looked up again I was rock hard. I reached around to the back of his wet head and pulled him close to my dick. He opened his mouth and gladly accepted my manhood all the way to the back of his throat. He closed his lips around it and looked up at me as I slowly pulled it out. I had never been so proud of my boy.
I plunged back in, and then found a rhythm impaling his pretty face over and over. I could feel his tongue working as I went in and out, teasing the underside of my cock-head. "Mommy's right." I said. "You are a slut." He moaned with my cock in his mouth. "You're daddy's little slut." I said. He slurped and sucked faster and more frantically. "You're a good little slut for daddy aren't you?"