My Slutty Wife's Nudist Holiday

The next afternoon, when I awoke he made me coffee. He had gone down to the bakery in the plaza and bought me my favorite zabaglione pastries. On the table was a container of what I thought was silicon gel. I assumed he would have wanted to use it if we fucked. But no, when he handed the tube to me, it said plainly, "Fisting Lotion."

"What the fuck is this?"

"I want you to use it and fist me," said Simon.

"What is that? Fisting?".

"You don't know?" he said. "I want you to stick your hand up my ass."

"I thought you wanted to fuck me, or me to fuck you."

"Oh no, your dick is not big enough to meet my needs, but your ham handed fists are just perfect."

What could I do? After all the kindnesses he showed us I did not dare to offend him. I lotioned up from fingers to wrist to elbow as he advised me. He assumed the position and with some difficulty I did what he'd requested. Every night thereafter, I stuck my fist right up Simon's ass. I got better at it with practice. What's a friend to do when called upon to help?

After three months Simon asked if I was well enough to manage on my own. He had remained a devoted friend. Now that we expected Brenda would recover, he was anxious to return to England for the Gay Pride event in London. Of course I had no intention of standing in his way. We packed up his VW with souvenirs and that night I fisted him for the last time.

I spent many a lonely day after Simon's departure waiting for Brenda to heal. That was when the terrible cramps in my fisting arm finally began to go away. By now she recognized me as a frequent visitor but seemed to have lost any memory that I was her husband. When the doctors introduced me to her as her spouse, she sneered,

"Impossible, I'd never marry a gay."

Of course all this put me into a tailspin. I began to eat out of frustration and put on at least 20 pounds. While eating an extra meal in the hospital cafeteria, I was fortunate enough to meet a wonderful female African transsexual in his hospital bathrobe. He/she was transitioning from female to male and had already grown a very attractive beard as a result of hormone therapy. Alice, now Alan, became a great support for me during those months after Simon's departure. We spent hours together looking at the photos of the Gay Pride event that Simon sent me and discussing the meaning of life. When we were tired of talking we played chess, I was usually the loser.

Once Alan was ready to leave the clinic I suggested he come live with me. He was so supportive and it turned out he was an exceptional cook, his specialty was French omelettes. He was also terrific at keeping the apartment in order. It was my idea that she, I mean he, should try out his reconstructed virgin cock on a women. I'm sure Brenda would have agreed, but in the absence of Brenda due to her medical condition, I suggested that Alan try out his new fangled penis on my butt. That does not make me gay, does it?

I must say his/her cock feels quite good when it is buried inside my butt cheeks and since there is no cum it's a very sanitary fucking. The newly constructed cock actually tastes good too. When he is butt fucking me, his two plastic testicles inside the skin of his nut sack smack me in just in the right place, my tate. I admit when he really starts rolling I feel like I am ready to cum and I have been able to climax several times. I guess being able to ejaculate during anal sex is an acquired skill. I am working on it.

Little by little Brenda's short circuited memory returned. When I told Brenda how I'd tried to help my new friend she said,

"I always said you were gay and should come out of the closet."

I don't think it makes a man queer just because he get fucked in the ass a few hundred times, or does it? I've helped Alan apply for a tourist visa and he will be joining us in the USA a few months after Brenda is back on her feet. At that point, I assume Brenda, who should be adequately healed, can take over Alan's sexual training. I discussed this possibility with my wife who said,

"An extra cock around the house is always a good thing."

I am assuming that Alan will prefer coitus with a female. It is a fact that many who are altered by a sex change operation, strangely prefer to have sexual partners of their new gender. If that is the case then I'm in for a lifetime of douching.

RECOVERY AT LAST

It took Brenda almost six months before she was healed enough to travel back to America. She was immediately put under the care of a famous gynecological surgeon at UCLA. It was his idea to start rejuvenating her vagina with a series of plastic dildos and large amber beads on a string. I guess that bull dike in Croatia, God Bless her, knew what she was talking about. We have a closet of dildoes now, all in slightly increased sizes and several amber necklaces.

I don't know for sure, but I believe the head of the department thought it would be therapeutic for Brenda to start by having sex with some of his Interns.They never discussed this option with me, only with Brenda. I thought I could tell that was going on as I watched the serious faces of the students entering and then their happy faces upon leaving the surgical suite 15-20 minutes later with that facial glow that comes from sexual release. I also caught snippets of conversation and several of the student's pants were unzipped on exiting. Brenda seemed to be on her way back to her old self on those occasions.

Brenda has now told me she wants to start back on her slutty ways. As her husband, I was torn between encouraging her in her pursuit of sexual pleasure and also limiting her to some extent. For one, I've refused to let her return to nude fucking sessions on beaches during lightning storms. Instead, I've set up strobe lights in our living room and secured a life like recording of thunder to accompany her new psychological needs during her slutty trysts. She still has dreams when I think she is still shouting, "Munster clocks."

We've put an advert in Craigslist, now that Backpage is kaput, asking for volunteers to fuck a disabled person. A number of young men and a few older ones have come to her aid, but some have questioned if she is truly disabled. I guess that is an indication that she is finally returning to normalcy. Unfortunately none of these gentleman so far have possessed monstercocks, but perhaps that is a good thing?

THE END!