We Agreed, No More Secrets

"We agreed, no more secrets, right?"

Annette was cradling her favorite, over-sized coffee mug at the kitchen island. She was still wearing her comfy pajamas from last night complete with bunny slippers. I loved how she enjoyed childish things but was always the adult in our relationship. She waited and it was hard to read all the emotions flickering across her eyes.

We'd been married for barely a year when she'd started noticing things with her underwear. More was in the laundry hamper than she remembered wearing. When some of her 'special night' undies ended up in the wash and she knew she hadn't worn them, she knew something was going on.

Predictably she had many fears at that moment. When there is a huge unknown, a mystery or secret, the mind generates all sorts of worst case scenarios. Certainly standing in front of my wife in a t-shirt and boxers as she tossed an incriminating pair of panties on the table between us was pretty much my worst case scenario.

When I'd first met her, I knew she was out of my league. She was smarter than me, seemed effortless in social situations, and had a head-turning body that had earned her money for college through modeling.

Once, after we'd been dating a few months, I asked her why I'd gotten so lucky. "You make me laugh and I can let my guard down entirely with you." Trust.

Still, after two years of dating and a year of marriage, I hadn't trusted her enough to come clean about some very strong passions I have. Perhaps I mistreated her underwear in some way to force this discussion?

My silence wasn't helping.

"I love you," I began. It was always a good start or seemed so to me. "I just have these things I like to do, you know, when I'm feeling... sexy... and we're not going to... have sex for awhile." This was starting to feel like it was veering into dangerous territory. I calmed myself and continued.

"I don't know why it started but it kind of felt like it was always there."

"What started?"

"I love wearing panties and stuff."

Okay, slipping that "and stuff" in there was a red flag but I was hoping she would focus on the headline.

"You wear my panties?"

"Yes, just every once in awhile. It isn't a big deal."

"Seems like a big deal to you to keep doing it and that you didn't want to tell me."

She was nudging me closer to the zone of a therapy session which is natural since my wife is a psychologist. There was a lot I didn't know myself and a lot I wasn't ready to share with her. I sort of clammed up so she tried a different tactic.

"What do you do?"

"Um, you know."

"I think you need to show me." She nudged the satiny panties over closer to me. She also looked down at how my erection was tenting my cotton boxers. "I think you want to show me too."

She had me there. Being seen by a woman while I was "dressed" is a huge fantasy of mine. Here I was going to make that fantasy come true. Still, I had a huge knot in my stomach, fear that this could go very wrong.

"Let's go..." she urged and waited.

After trying to calm my nerves a little, I pulled off my t-shirt followed by my boxers to stand naked, my cock rigidly erect. I picked up her panties, my favorite pink satin string bikini panties in fact. Pulling them up my legs as she watched me made me shiver in arousal and let out a soft sigh of pleasure.

I settled my cock in the satin and adjusted the panties to fit me. Annette made the twirl motion and I slowly turned in place until I was facing her.

"Why do they look like they fit you better than me?" she pondered out loud and inwardly I began to think this might not be a terrible day.

"We're the same size," I offered quietly.

"In...?" she asked vaguely indicating her chest with her fingers.

"In everything," I said carefully, revealing that I wear more than her panties. I could see by the look on her face that she was filing that away for later.

She motioned me closer until I was standing next to her. She began to caress my ass through the satin back of the panties, sometimes straightening them into the right position, sometimes messing them up.

"How does wearing my panties make you feel?"

"Sissy sexy..." I moaned and my eyes flew open. "Sexy sexy," I repeated to try to erase my truthful slip of the tongue.

"Sissy... sexy..." she said softly as her hand continued to play with me through the panties. "Are you a sissy slut, baby?"

My body was electrified from arousal from her touching me, the feel of the panties, of being exposed, countless fears and even more hopes. I could feel my barriers and safeguards shattering.

"Yes, I'm a pretty sissy slut girl," I replied, face burning red at the total admission. I give her credit, she never slowed in her slow groping of me.

"You are a pretty sissy girl," she cooed and my heart filled with love for her just as my cock was trying to break a record in precum production soaking the front of her panties. She moved her hand to the front of the panties. "Your clit is stiff and your panties are all wet, you horny girl."

I shuddered and felt I was so close to cumming. I blurted something unintelligible and she stopped.

"So you've worn the matching bra?" she asked, sipping her coffee.

"Y... yes."

"I don't believe you. Let me see." With that she was leading me upstairs to our bedroom with me dressed only in her pretty panties.

She settled on the bed sitting back against the pillows and the headboard and watched. Clearly I knew where everything was so I went to her bra drawer. She was very careful to store them properly as she is a large breasted woman and most of her bras are shaped cups. I extracted the matching satin bra.

Watching her eyes, I proceeded to put the bra around my chest in reverse, clip the hooks, rotate it back and get my arms through the shoulder straps. I felt so pretty and sexy.

"You're a pro, aren't you," she observed.

"Ever since I started wearing my roommate's bras in college." That got a raised eyebrow. Yes, lady, I've been a sissy a long time.

"Come here."

I got on the bed with her, sitting next to her, leaning on the pillows. She let her hands explore the bra on my body, tugging, adjusting, and caressing. It didn't take long to get me moaning.

"So, you like wearing women's slutty lingerie... they get you really excited... and it sounds like you want to wear lingerie all the time."

My brain was screaming to not say any more, to not risk crossing some line she'd find unacceptable and everything would be ruined. My desperation to finally have someone accept, encourage, and indulge my deep sissy desires was strong enough to tell my brain to shut up.

"I would love to be sissy all the time."

Her fingers were nearing the panties and my throbbing cock.

"Looks like we're each going to be working from home for at least another year so why don't you be my little sissy slut all the time?"

"Really? You aren't upset with me?"

It took her awhile to answer while she kept my cock on the edge of exploding.

"You didn't choose to enjoy these things, right? It just is a part of you."

"Absolutely. I've tried to stop doing it but I always come back to it. I've been this way since before puberty."

"So how could I love you and deny such a part of you?"

"I love you, honey," I finally blurted, starting to cry.

"Oh, hush, I know you do, you little panty-slut. Now get on your hands and knees."

I was confused but obeyed eagerly. She rummaged in her drawer by the bed side and came out with lube and her favorite dildo that looked like a very realistic cock.

"I think we need to christen the new adventure of ours. Do you have a sissy girl name?"

"uh.. no..."

She didn't look surprised at all though I'd tried to settle on one for years. She gently pulled the panties down until they were bunched at the top of my thighs. Her fingers spread the lube around my anus and slipped inside, slowly relaxing me and pushing lots of lube in me.

"Sissy girl want some cock?" she cooed at me.

"Y... Yes, please."

"Say it all, you little slut." She wasn't nasty mean like so many of the sissy videos I'd explored online. She was very matter-of-fact about it.

"Yes, I want some cock."

"More..."

"Yes, I want cock, I want you to fuck my pussy with that fat cock, I want to be royally fucked!"

This was the first moment I spotted her hand in her own pajamas clearly playing with her pussy. I was stunned and thrilled that this was turning her on too.

She started to press the dildo at my hole, insistent put patient. "That's right, you sissy slut, you were meant to take big cocks in your pussy, you ache for cock all the time, don't you."

I actually didn't ache for cock all the time but I was too far gone to quibble.

"Yes, I want cock all the time, fucking me, letting me suck, giving me loads of yummy cum!" I crowed as I relaxed enough and the fat head of the dildo passed into me, followed quickly by 7" of veiny shaft.

"Oh god yes, fuck me, honey," I begged and she began to withdraw and thrust the dildo into me.

It didn't take long once she began stroking my cock too for me to cum. It was the most intense orgasm I could remember having. I filled her cupped hand with cum.

Only after I gave my last spurts did she lift her cupped hand to my mouth and I eagerly ate my own cum without instruction, even sucking her fingers clean.

She turned me around, pulled off her pajama bottoms and pulled my cummy face to her wet, swollen pussy. I eagerly began to lick, massage, and kiss her flavorful folds. It isn't a minute before I heard the familiar moan that was her orgasm.

Laying in bed together, we held each other, me still in panties and bra.

"We're going to have to buy you your own lingerie... 'and stuff'" she commented quietly, cupping my groin back in the panties.

"How could you know all this? It was so amazing, like you read my mind."

"No, I just read your browser history and thought about all those times you volunteered to go with me when I buy clothes, shoes, or underwear. Or we'd look at the Academy Awards and you'd gush over the satin gowns. The pieces fell into place. I went back to some psychology texts to understand things better and confirmed that I didn't have worry about you not loving me. Once I realized enough of what was probably going on, it was a simple decision to make: love my husband and have all sorts of sexy new fun or ruin the best relationship I've ever had. It wasn't a hard choice."

"And you're not ashamed of me? Worried that I'm gay? Going to divorce me?"

"I will divorce you if you keep big secrets like this from me. Especially when we could be having so much girly fun together!"

"I promise. You can ask me anything or make me do anything."

She laughed softly. "I'm going to hold you to that. We've got so much to explore!"