Jun 22, 2010

Saturday Night Plans

You wait. Kneeling in your most submissive pose, you wait for the door to open to see what mischief your wife has gotten into.

Your wife. You call her "Mistress" now. She's taken the reigns and you love it. She's dressed you, as usual, in your prettiest Saturday night outfit. You feel the lace panties caressing your bottom, holding your erection in check.

You feel every inch of fabric against your tender skin. Mistress has kept you free from hair and your body is electrified with the silken embrace of your outfit; the light cotten blouse, the black leather skirt, the red high heels, and the black stockings. Oh, the stockings! How you love the way they caress your bare legs, sending waves of electricity up and down your exposed flesh. The pleasure radiates through you, filling you with passion and sapping your will. You belong to Mistress and want to do her bidding.

You hear the key in the lock and a mix of excitement and terror floods your insides. Your heart feels like someone has reached into your chest and is squeezing the life out of you. The door opens, revealing your wife. How beautiful she looks; her face flushed with lust. She's dressed provocatively; her blouse accenting her cleavage, her dress accenting her long legs. She never dressed that way for you, even when you were dating. But she dresses this way for them, every Saturday night when she goes out to the bar as you kneel, waiting.

She looks at you and smiles. You're doing exactly what she wants you to and that power makes her wet. She steps into the room and you smell her excitement. You hear her heels on the hardwood floor. You feel your erection flexing in your panties. She moves out of the doorway and you see the man behind her.

You recognize him. He's been here before. He looks at you and smiles. He remembers you fondly. You smile back. You hate yourself for your reaction. You've grown to love serving your wife this way and pleasing the men she brings home. You've come to love pleasing men with your mouth. You can see the bulge in his pants and your mouth waters with desire.

There are no words. No one needs to say anything. You're a sissy and everyone knows it. Everyone knows what you're good for and everyone gets to do what they want with you.

It's not like Mistress to bring home the same man twice but if she had to bring any of them home a second time, you're glad it's this one. He was nice to you; treated you like a lady. He knows how much you want to please and need praise. He'll give you plenty of opportunities for both.

She sits on her chair, holding out her hand at you, giving him permission to proceed. He comes to you. You smell the mix of alcohol and cigarettes on his clothes; fresh bar scents. He holds his hand out and you put yours in his. Your nails are done; pretty red to match your lipstick and shoes. Your hand looks so slight in his. He tugs gently, helping you stand.

You look up into his eyes and he smiles, pulling you closer. You feel the lump in his pants pressing against your belly. You wonder if he feels your tiny bump against his leg. Probably not.

He pulls you tightly to him. He moves his face closer to you. Instinctively you close your eyes as his lips find yours. His tongue enters your mouth, exploring you, invading you. You feel your knees weaken. You're thankful that his strong arms surround you. Heat rises to your face. You're flush with embarrassment at just how much you enjoy his firm kisses. His hand grasps your bottom, with every squeeze you lose yourself more.

Somewhere you know that in the morning you'll hate yourself for what you're doing now. You'll be back in the real world, pretending to be a man again. But when you're dressed up and at Mistress's mercy, you feel free and you revel in serving her and her men.

He runs his other hand up your back. The soft cotton of your blouse makes your skin tingle. When his hand reaches your bra he stops and so does your heart. He reaches back down, grabbing your blouse and untucking it from your skirt. His mouth moves to your neck and you feel like you'll turn into a puddle. He moves away slightly, his mouth still licking and nibbling your neck, as his hands come around and begin unbuttoning your blouse.

He opens it all the way, his hands moving inside to feel your soft, hairless skin. His hands feel rough, hot, and big. You feel like you're getting smaller and smaller, shrinking in his presence, becoming a littler girl.

His hands caress your bra and your nipples get hard under the cups. You're still standing but you don't know how. You feel like your legs are going to collapse. You want him to pull you tight again but he's too busy, his thumbs pressing against your nipples, sending waves of pleasure directly to your groin.

You feel his heat increase. You know that the bulge in his pants is ever larger now and you want it. You want to touch it. You reach out and the heat from him makes you ache. Fingers meet denim; heavy hardness meets your palm. The ridge from his mushroom head is a relief map of pleasure. He moans. He wants you. You love to be wanted. Giving pleasure gives you pleasure.

You want to make him happy. You want to make him cum. You want him to use you for his desires. You want him to sate his lust with your body, all the while on display for your wife.

He takes your hand away from his crotch. You pout out your bottom lip, missing the feel of his cock as soon as your fingers are free. But then he surprises you even more, he puts his hands on either side of your head, pushing down on your shoulders. You lick your lips in anticipation, wanting to taste him again.

However, he doesn't just stop pushing when you're on your knees. He applies more pressure, moving you down to your hands and knees. You look up at him, pleading silently. He smiles and moves out of your line of sight. You hear the thump and jingle of his pants hitting the floor. A chill runs down your spine. Mistress promised that this day was coming and now you know it's finally here.

You feel his hands pulling up your skirt, pushing it up your hips to rest around your waist. You can't help but shake your pantied ass at him, wanting to tease him. Fingers grip the waistband of your lacey panties and they're yanked down to your knees.

You're exposed. You love the feeling of powerlessness.

You feel the cool wet chill of lubrication being squirted into the crack of your ass. This sensation is familiar since Mistress has had you wearing butt plugs for hours on end throughout the week, reminding you that your hole is hers... and hers to share.

You gasp when you feel one of his fingers coating your tender hole with lubrication. That you can feel how much larger his fingers are compared to your wife's is frightening. You know how large his cock is in comparison to the slender butt plugs she's gotten you used to. How will his one-eyed monster be able to fit in your tight, virgin hole?

The feel of his finger thrills you. You'd never thought anything in your bottom would ever feel good, much less pleasant, before Mistress began opening you up with butt plugs months ago. Now you feel empty without something there. His finger feels good, yes, but you want more. You're ready for more. Mistress has spoken of this day and you've dreamed of it. You were horrified the first time she mentioned it but now the thought brought swelling to your loins. Even now your cock twitches in anticipation.

You look back over your shoulder, hoping to entice him to hurry. You want him inside of you, even though the idea is as scary g as it is exciting. He wears a look of concentration. He seems fascinated with the process of opening you for him. You feel him slide in a second finger and he smiles, watching you take it.

You hear your wife moan. She's enjoying the show. She loves seeing you down on all fours for her man. You crane your head and see her, half naked with her left middle finger working her clit furiously. You moan, seeing her and feeling him. You can't take anymore. You turn your head back to him and ask him with your most feminine voice if he'll please fuck you. He smiles.

His free hand has been working his cock, bringing it to ful hardness, making it ready for you. It's slick with lube and he kneels up to push it against your virgin hole. The pressure from the head sends a shudder up your spine. You close your eyes as if to allow your other senses to pick up the slack. You hear him grunt and feel the tightening of your tender pucker as it surrenders to his sex. You begin to cry out, trying to hold it back, afraid that he may pull out if you're too loud. You hurt, yes, but there's something overriding the pain. It's the physical pleasure of his invasion coupled with the deep fulfillment of self.

His insistent cock moves deeper inside of you. The buttplugs could never have prepared you for the feel of a real cock delving into your pleasure depths. You want more. You're body aches for more.

You feel his fingers dig into your hips and he pulls you onto him. He's opening you wide; your ass is taking more than it ever has it before.

You're spiraling down the rabbit hole as his cock plunges into your body. The mixture of self-loathing and lust tips fully towards the latter. You feel your will slipping even farther away. You belong to this man inside of you. You exist only for his pleasure. You are a hole, open for him, taking him in.

He redoubles his efforts, his thighs slapping against yours. You feel him growing larger inside of you. You hear your wife lose herself in her orgasm, her moans turning to a growl before finally crescendoing to an animal howl. Her feline cries soon joined by his guttural grunting. Yes! You feel it! You feel him surging. You know it's coming; that he's cumming. You brace yourself for it, tightening yourself on him, pulling him into you.

Before he grunts with orgasmic satisfaction you feel him cumming. You feel his cock jerking inside of you, like a punch to the gut. You feel him coating your insides with his seed, filling you even more, pushing you even farther into bliss. He gives a few final thrusts, his cock making a wonderfully squishy sound as it gets coated with his cum.

When he pulls out you almost cry. Not from pain but from loss. You're empty without him inside of you. The craving for his cock overwhelms you.

However, you soon learn that you won't have to wait another week to satisfy your sissy lust for cock. Rather than showing this man to the door, Mistress invites him to stay for some wine. You lay on the floor, catching your breath as you listen to them talk about you. It quickly becomes apparent that he's spending the night.

You're relegated to the foot of the bed in your prettiest nightie. You watch your wife fucking the man several times through the night. You're called up to service them a few times, cleaning his cock after he's fucked your wife, licking her asshole while he pounds her pussy. Somehow it all feels natural. You're a sissy and you enjoy seeing your wife with a real man, especially one who treats you the way you need to be treated.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

jesus fucking christ...

i had no idea such things go on right under the nose of normal life

as long as you like it and it harms nobody i guess you should do it. but i fear it harms you in unimaginable ways.

Anonymous said...

Hot as Hell story, wonderfully written!!! Bravo!!!