My Sissy Wife Pt. 01

I beep my car and ring the bell, holding the flowers I've just picked up on my way. Roses or lilies, I wondered, before settling on a combination of both.

The door opens, and there you are, with your smile that cheers me up. We kiss there on the threshold, a peck that turns into a short kiss, then a longer one. You take the flowers from me, "aww, thank you, they're lovely!", and we enter our home.

I close the door behind me, feeling the change of scene, and subtly begin to relax. We've been living here for two years, but it already feels like a lifetime. You've turned it into a comfortable place for me, made it a home for us, with your tasteful choice of color and fabric everywhere.

I stand at the small raised counter where we have a line of small photo frames. Though my favorite is the large portrait we keep in our bedroom, this is a close second, since it shows our story, how we've progressed over the time we've known each other.

Here is us on the left when we first met, when you were this slim and shy, almost boyish young man. I had taken a liking to you almost immediately and asked you out, and while a lot has changed since then, your smile is still the same. I'm using the selfie stick you'd just taught me how to use, the sun shining in our faces at the summit of the hike I convinced you to come along on.

It took a year of slow hints and suggestions to get you going on the journey to become who you are today. In the end, it's all about trust. I knew this was the inner you, that I had to allow to bloom, but you were hesitant. I had to create that safe space for you, let you try out things without judgement.

You had been with other men before, but they had somehow missed this whole side of you. I saw your inner femininity and that is what drew me to you, set me on fire when I was in you.

It was after a month of slowly getting comfortable with each other sexually, that I called you "my gurl" for the first time. I could feel you clench around me then. I nodded and kissed you, "mm, you like that? You wanna be my gurl?" Your breath quickened and on my next stroke you spammed under me and shot your load.

This was one of those moments where we both shared an understanding of what was to change. My eyes moved to the next photo. A month later, but already you're wearing leggings, and a woman's top and jacket. We spent a lot of time in dressing rooms, me smiling at your excitement.

The true test of the best outfit, a trend that continues to this day, is the one that gets me the hardest. After that, the unspoken agreement is that I will pay for it, while you ... relieve my hardness. We kept it quiet, but anyone happening to look under the closed door could see you on your knees.

"Wash up honey, dinner's on the table in five!" I hear you call out.

"I can't wait!"

Fast forward another couple of months, to your discovery of make up. I chuckle as I recall all the different shades and colors you tried out. This is where our relationship took a little detour for a bit, you taking on an excessively girly role. I let you, relishing the role of "daddy", making you my little bitch. After a few months though, as you finally bloomed sexually, with a confidence all your own, I knew I didn't want a sissy pet, a sissy bitch, a sissy plaything - I wanted a sissy wife.

From time to time, we still slip into different roles. You like being my baby gurl sometimes, but now I've found in your the partner I always wanted. The next photo showed us both grinning ear to ear, tropical sun in our faces, your hair long and flowing, you wearing a lovely sundress - and sporting a new ring. I feel you come stand by my side as my eyes fall on the last photo, with you in your wedding dress.

"Down memory lane again?"

"Just reminding myself. Three years next week."

"Aww, you remembered! It has been a while, hasn't it?"

"It has." I embrace you, my arms around you, kissing more wantonly now, our breath coming faster, until you pull away and we stand nose to nose, looking into each other's eyes. "And you're just as beautiful as when I first saw you."

"Well, come along now hubby," you reach down and trace the bulge in my trousers, "let's finish dinner."

The smell of pasta and chicken fills me as we sit down. I pour us some wine, and we clink our glasses. "To us," you say. "To us, and to you, my wonderful wife, whose beauty and grace has lit up my life."

We hold hands, both of us warming up for the night. We chat about work, about errands, before the talk turns to planning for the future, an upcoming vacation.

As we get up, I take the dishes from your hands. "I'll clean up here, why don't you go slip into something comfortable?" You giggle and nod, stroke my arm, and leave me to do the dishes, clean the table, put away everything.

I walk upstairs to our bedroom, and see you framed in the doorway, with your blue peignoir. Behind you I see in the dim light the new aromatherapy candles we picked up last weekend.

I let you do the work of undressing me. You've told me how you really like taking your time, Button by button, crease by crease, slipping off my sweater and shirt, helping me out of my trousers, then slowly dropping to your knees in front of my underwear.

There is so much unspoken here. This isn't two people hooking up, it's two people who know each other's bodies, who know the patterns of desire that turn us on. You know how important it is to me to have you be submissive to me. You peel my underwear down, close your eyes and bringing your nose to my cock, inhale deeply.

I stroke your hair, "oh my sweet baby," slowly move your nose around my pubic hair. A desire arises to make your face messy today. A look is exchanged between us, as I trace my fingers down your forehead, your nose, your lips. A thumb slips between your lips, you suck on it like a pacifier. "Love your face baby," I tell you, and you nod, understanding. You take my hand and kiss it, then as I extend two fingers, you hold them, draw them to your mouth, opening wide.

I extend into your throat, making you gag on purpose. Your hands are stroking my thigh now. Three fingers now, and I switch hands, holding my right hand under your chin as I use the other as a sort of saliva collector, withdrawing my fingers and letting them drip. My palm has a good deal of spit now, and I tilt your chin up, before running my palm down your face, smearing you. I make two more passes, covering your forehead, cheeks, nose.

You take my hands in yours, and smile up at me. This is us, our play. You don't feel degraded, you are my slut queen, beaming up at me as you glisten for me. I stand up and bring my cock and balls right next to you. We interlace our fingers, holding hands as you rub your face into me. Precum, sweat, spit, all mix together, coating your face and my balls. "Mmm, I love our juices baby," you moan, getting turned on, "love smelling us, love your sweat, love your musk!"

I lean down and kiss you, you stick out your tongue and I suck on it, then stand up and take your face in my hands. You make your body go limp, ready to be used by me. I shake my hips, smacking your cheeks, before lining up with your mouth, until you open your lips and I slide in. I go deep, deep, deep right at the beginning, feeling out your throat. You gag, I push roughly in, you gag again. I stroke your forehead, my fingers tracing the ridge of your nose, pinch your nostrils closed as I go in. We lock eyes. "My baby," I murmur, as your body twitches, choking on my cock. Your hands stroke my thighs, you gag violently, throat still plugged.

This is our game, our dance, we are both in control, taking each other to the edge. I wipe away the tears under your eyes, and then you tap my legs. I pull out instantly, and you take a deep inhale, as I pause, a webbing of saliva connecting my cock to your mouth. I shake my hips again, draping these strands across your face, letting them hang off your chin and eyelashes.

I move my hands to cradle your head, holding you under the base of your skull, as I begin to saw in and out. I've wetted your mouth nicely, and every stroke sounds out sloppily. Your mouth pussy, so maneuverable, so dextrous, so visually stimulating, my favorite pussy if I'm being honest. So wonderfully surrounded with other textures ... your tongue slaking out from underneath, your lips sliding, your fingers reaching up now. I moan and momentarily close my eyes, as you trace my balls, and I can see you twinkle up at me as extend your fingers under my shaft, making one long erotic transition for me on each stroke - fingers, tongue, lips, mouth, throat.

Before I know it I'm tensing up over you, stroking your hair and clenching my jaw with the strain of containing myself, curving my cock into you, droll slipping down your tongue. I'm going deep into you now, your throat relaxed for me, every stroke a whump! whump! whump! as the tip of your tongue curves up to tickle my ball sac. "Oh, my queen!" I sigh, sinking and falling, your hands going to my balls, grabbing them, hefting them lightly as I feel every muscle in my body squeeze together all at once, my legs straining to support me as I quiver between your lips, pouring myself into your throat.

I regain my breath slowly, remaining crouched above you, holding on to your hair, as you slurp on me softly, your tongue circling me, licking me clean before letting me pop out.

I pick you up, put you on the counter, grab your ass cheeks, pressing you to me, and kiss you wildly. We are putty in each other's hands.