Where's The Rest Of Me?

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A dream unrealized.
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This is a total fantasy, OK? Although several incident described here actually happened, the story itself never happened. Personally I think that's a shame and offer this in the hope some may profit from my loss. Perhaps my loving wife feels the same.

I've dreamed of being feminized by my wife ever since the opening events in the following story took place over 30 years ago. Not as you so often see. I was thrilled that the idea first began with her. I quickly came to hope it would continue. I wanted it to be a pure loving thing shared between two members of opposing sexes. I wanted the woman who loved me to want to share something that she loved herself. Does that make any sense? I'm now nearly 72 years old, and my clock is winding down. Although I still love my wife dearly and I think she loves me, we're no longer the two splendid hard bodies we once were. I now know this will never happen. Frankly, even though my fingers are shaking so hard right now I can barely type, it would be a sorry travesty now if it did happen to me.

Still, we do have our dreams.

My obsession began, as I said, over 30 years ago. We'd gone to bed early one cool summer evening. My wife then usually slept in a simple printed cotton shift while I, as usual, was naked. Although my wife is usually a woman of great force and determination, she tends to be very passive in bed. Experimentation during our nightly sexual explorations always originated with me. I ate her out on her couch the first time we ever had sex, and she loved 69 better than almost anything. Nor did she protest when I introduced some light bondage into our lives, spread eagling her to the corners of our bed. I bought four small nylon dog collars and tied soft cord to their rings. I always introduced them into a night's play by quietly attaching a pre-placed collar around her left wrist, and she quickly learned to lay quietly at the sound of its snap, her small breasts heaving in anticipation as I attached the other three restraints to her. She even gave an almost-obligatory tug following each snap to prove she was truly "secured" for whatever I had planned next.

On one of these evening I gagged her by pushing the panties she'd worn that day slowly into her mouth and began pushing one leg from a pair of pantyhose into her cunt. She wiggled and mumbled with pleasure as the nylon rubbed against the inside of her love hole. Withdrawing it slowly brought even more excitement from her panty-filled mouth. After pulling the panty gag from her mouth, I held her jaws apart and began feeding her the nylon that had been steeping in her own cunt, toes first. She whimpered briefly as the now-soaked leg filled her mouth but that quickly turned into a huge moan as my tongue chased the nylon past her quivering open lips and searched for her tongue. I kissed her gaping mouth hungrily with my own lips, sucking in some of the wet stocking leg into my mouth as I did.

She lay on her back quietly moaning as we lay locked mouth to mouth before I released and drew the waist of the panty hose firmly over her head. I forced her head into the thigh of the pantyhose's other leg and snugly wrapped its calf and foot around her neck. She sensed me drawing back to admire my work, and she lay there quietly shivering. It was fabulous just watching her that night trembling in excitement on her back, her luscious small breasts heaving as she quietly cried for happy. I just lay there for several hours that night watching her, reaching out an occasional finger to coax little sounds from her well-tuned instrument.

That's why this cool night then was different. She began as she had so many had before, spooning against my back in her little cotton shift. I could feel her arms begin to move as she wriggled her ass from the shift, a move that so often in the past indicated she was looking for some titty play. "Sit up," she whispered gently in my ear. "I want to try something new." I eagerly sat up in bed, and she climbed out, pulling the thin shift up over her head. Her body glowed in the moonlight and her full dark bush was highlighted by contrast. "Climb out of bed, honey, then close your eyes and raise your arms," she softly ordered. I could tell she just touched herself because I could smell her mesmerizing scent as she stroked my nose and mouth when she checked to see if my eyelids were closed.

Then it was my turn to shiver as I felt the thin cotton of her shift, still carrying the warmth of her body, as my arms passed through its arm holes. Next came the softest yoke I'll ever know around my neck as the almost filmy cotton settled over my head and onto my shoulders. Her ever-so-soft hands guided the shift over my naked hips until I finally felt its falling hem grazing my thighs. She wrapped her arms around me in a deep embrace and gave me a deep soulful kiss. I gasped in surprise as I felt the now-cool cotton covering my hard ass suddenly cupped tightly in her warm hands which gently and so briefly spread my ass crack open wide.

"Open your eyes now," she purred evenly in my left ear. "What do you think? Do you like this? How does it feel?"

How does heaven feel? More to the point, exactly how does heaven smell? Surely not any better than this. She'd worn this shift for several nights and just wearing it for a few moments already had me drenched in her intoxicating aroma. I felt one with her. The smells of the light cologne she wore and her deodorant blended with the musty perfume from her angel pussy that she'd just spread over my mustache. I felt I had crawled through her cunt and into her body, and every single nerve in my body tingled on edge. I had no idea where this had just come from or where it was heading, and I was speechless as she pinched each of my nipples briefly through the magic shift.

"Come on, honey," she whispered quietly. "I want you in bed."

To be continued.

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