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My Changed Life 1 free porn video
MY CHANGED LIFE 1 by Throne
My wife Grace was in the downstairs recreation room with the TV on. I
had just gotten back from work and running several errands. I crept down
the carpeted steps. She had an exercise DVD playing and was doing low
impact aerobics. I stood on the bottom step, unseen by her, devouring
the image she presented. Grace is full figured, with balloon breasts and
a wide jutting bottom, as well as large thighs and shapely firm calves.
She was wearing a black Spandex, short unitard. Her smallish feet were
bare, long auburn hair up in a tight bun. As she moved, nothing wobbled.
I just stood and stared, unable to miss how her nipples protruded,
unhampered by a bra. Without thinking, I allowed my hand to drift down
to my crotch, where I pressed my fingers against my raging erection. It
was raging but it wasn't big. I'm short and so is my penis. Unlike my
wife, I don't exercise, so my body is soft. I have almost no body hair,
which is why Grace made me shave off what little there was, saying that
I'd look better without it. She turned toward me unexpectedly and said,
in an accusing voice, "Spying, Marty? Again?" My mouth opened and
closed but no words came. After a long pause I realized my hand was
moving. OMG, I had been stroking myself through my slacks. I felt my
cheeks flush.
Grace strode toward me, an amused smile on her pretty features. She has
flashing green eyes, a white-pink complexion, high cheekbones, a straight
narrow nose, and an overly full mouth. When she got to the foot of the
stairs she crooked her plump finger at me and I descended sheepishly and
stood directly in front of her. She said, "What? You think I don't know
that you're a Peeping Tom around your own wife? I catch you from the
corner of my eye, drooling over me while I get dressed or have my feet
propped up while I'm wearing a short skirt or when I'm in bed and you
think I'm asleep. You're quite the little perv, dear." She put her
hands on my shoulders and gazed hard at me. "Aren't you?" I squirmed
inwardly but tried to defend myself. I said weakly, "It's just that
we... um... haven't been having, you know, relations, very often lately."
"I know, Marty. And why is that? What did we talk about?"
"Well..." I hated what I had to admit but we already both knew it was
true. "My dick isn't big enough to satisfy you," I muttered. "And I
finish way too soon." She only nodded. But then she gave me a forgiving
smile. Her hands slid down and she stroked my nipples through my shirt.
"But we both know what can fix that, don't we?"
"But, honey," I whined, sounding petulant even to myself. "You know I
don't want to, um, do that for you."
"Do WHAT?" I shifted my feet nervously and said, using the words she
insisted on, "I don't want to... eat your pussy." She was still toying
with my chest. That always gets me overly excited. Then she brought her
head close to mine and nipped my ear with her straight white teeth, and
said, "Maybe there's something else that can make everything okay." I
took a deep breath and said, "Really? I mean, anything I could do for
you. Except for...that." She told me, "So why don't you get out of your
office clothes and I'll show you what I'm thinking about." I was elated.
It appeared that we were going to finally have sex again after -- what? -
- over two dry weeks. I hurried to unbutton my shirt and get out of it.
Then came the shoes and pants. I hooked my fingers under the waistband
of my boxers and hesitated. Even in front of my own wife I'm reluctant
to expose my underdeveloped genitals. Our darkened bedroom would have
been preferable. But it would be worth it for the reward I was
expecting. So I tugged them down and stepped out of them. In just my
high argyle socks I stood there, expectantly optimistic. Grace grinned
at me and purred seductively, "Now let's go into the back yard."
The sun was down by then but the idea of being outside, of possibly being
spotted while naked, horrified me. It would normally have been
unthinkable but, after the teasing she had just given me, and with the
promise of getting relief from my horniness dangling so near, tantalizing
me, and the way she looked in her exercise outfit, I headed to the
sliding glass doors in the rec room that led out onto the patio. It was
a warm night so at least I wouldn't have to worry about getting a chill.
She opened the door and ushered me out. And then shut it behind me. I
panicked. I beat on the glass but then stopped at once, afraid that the
noise would attract attention. Grace smirked at me. She licked her lips
suggestively and ran her hands over her heavy boobs. What was she doing?
I begged her, "Please. Darling. Let me back in." She chuckled and told
me, "I can't. I have to be somewhere. Pam invited me to her house. I'm
sure she won't mind if I go like this. I'll take your car. You can cut
through all the yards between here and there. It's only about a mile.
Or a mile and a half. Whatever. I'll see you there. And we'll have
something for you to wear." She waved cheerily and went toward the
stairs. I stared at her wide rolling bottom for a moment and then
quickly crouched behind some bushes and cowered. The car was parked
under a streetlight out front. There was no way I could reach it unseen.
Two minutes later I heard the engine start. It all seemed unreal as the
sound of her driving away cut through the night.
In desperation I looked around me. With no other choice, I slinked
through the shadows, avoiding lights as much as I could, and got from our
property onto the Johnson's. Why was Grace going to Pam's? I had never
liked that woman. She was tall and athletic, and always tossing veiled
insults my way when I was around her. In confusion I crossed the
Johnson's yard, went over their property line to the Pierces' place.
They were a Black couple and she had a figure like my wife's, all
exaggerated contours. Despite my awful predicament I found myself
getting excited at the thought of her, of how she looked in tight jeans,
of the low cut tops she liked to wear. Telling myself to focus, I kept
moving. Next was Bertram and Ernest's home. They were a gay couple and,
though I consider myself pretty liberal, it still made me uncomfortable
to be near them. I was in the middle of their yard when someone in the
dark said, "Well, what do we have here?" and a second voice answered, "It
looks like that gift we were told to expect." I clapped my hands over my
crotch and took a step backwards. From the shadows appeared the two
young men. Bertram said, "Wasn't it nice of your wife to tell us you
might be stopping by?"
"Yes," added Ernest, "she said you might want something to wear."
Despite my unease, I eagerly told them, "Yes, that would be great.
Please. Give me something to cover myself with. Anything."
"Welllll," Bertram considered, "we might have something you could use...
inside." I shuddered with distaste but nodded vigorously. Their home
was laid out like ours and I found myself entering by the same type doors
I had so recently exited through. They led me to the center of the rec
room and then stopped. I felt utterly exposed, which I almost was. For
once there was an advantage to being not well hung; it was easy to cover
my equipment. Bertram slipped behind me. I was shamefully aware that he
could see my backside. In case I missed that obvious fact he cooed,
"Oooo, nice buns. And so smooth." He patted my buttocks, first one and
then the other. Ernest put himself toes-to-toes with me. I felt
paralyzed. He said, "I have to get an idea of your measurements. Hands
on head, please." My face grew warm as I did what he wanted. In no
hurry, he eyed me below the waist, smirked, and told Bertram, "He
wouldn't make a penny working the street." Bertram said, "I don't know.
He could sell himself as a bottom." As their meaning sank in my lower
lip began to quiver and I blinked back tears. "P... please, fellows.
Just give me something to wear."
"No problem," Bertram assured me as he swept across the room to a shelf
and took something from between a piece of colorful pottery and a glass
figurine. It turned out to be a length of yellow ribbon. I gazed at it
uncomprehendingly and began to lower my hands in slow motion. He tut-
tutted and I got my fingers back atop my head. He told me, "Can't have
you getting in the way while I tie a yellow ribbon round the old..." He
peered at my member and concluded, "... around the old oak twig." Both
of them chuckled at the joke he had made at my expense. Then he knelt
down and leaned in, so that he was uncomfortably close to my manhood.
With deft movements he wrapped my parts in the ribbon and tied it, then
made a big flouncy bow. He touched more than necessary, I thought. When
he was done he stood up and stepped back to observe his work, then smiled
with approval. I pressed my thighs together and squirmed self-
consciously. In desperation I said, "No, I meant something to cover me
more than this."
"Well," Bertram huffed. "I guess I could spare something from our dress-
up drawer." He vanished for several minutes while I stood there with his
partner looking me up and down, his eyes glimmering. My penis was so
compressed by the snugly tied ribbon that I felt unmanned.
Bertram reappeared holding a small garment. It was... a corset? A black
satin corset. The two of them came near and he fitted it around my
waist, fastened something, and then began tightening. He worked with
practiced skill and soon had my waist uncomfortably reduced. It was
awful. And I was still mostly naked. They made me walk with it on and I
felt strange, my movement restricted but, more alarming, my steps somehow
shorter and less... manly. The confining item had put a definite mince
in my step. Was it physical or psychological? Or both? I didn't know
but I couldn't control it. In a frustrated state, I pleaded with my
eyes. Bertram patted me consolingly on my bare shoulder. Ernest ruffled
my hair. Then gave it a critical appraisal. And went and got a comb,
brush, and hairspray. For a few minutes he worked on it. Then they
marched me to a closet and swung the door open. There was a mirror on
the other side. I gasped. Staring back at me wide-eyed was a curiously
genderless creature. With my smooth pink hairless body, hidden organs,
pinched waist, unmasculine posture thanks to the corset, and rearranged
hair, which I saw had been teased up into a garden of short points, I
made a bizarre sight. Then they had me walk away, turn, and go back to
my starting point. As I approached the mirror I could see that my gait
had a hip-wiggle that was unmissable. Without permission, I made that
same circuit again, this time trying to put some 'butch' into my stride,
but it came out the same as before.
"Perfect," Bertram declared. "Now we'll have to send you on your way."
"Even though we'd love to keep you for the night," sighed Ernest.
Nervously, I moved toward the glass doors. I didn't want to stay but I
wasn't eager to resume my nighttime trek. Still, Grace was expecting me.
At Pam's house. The door was opened for me and I stepped gingerly
outside in just my socks, the ribbon, and the corset. I supposed my wife
had left me the socks to protect my feet. An unseen hand gave me a hard
farewell slap on the bottom, I squealed, and for the second time I heard
one of those doors to a backyard close behind me. More disturbed than
ever, I scampered away, unable to stop moving like a girl. The next few
houses presented few problems, then there were several with too many
lights on. After the last of those I was at the end of the block. I
found a shaded spot and rushed across the street to begin the process all
over again. But this time, when I got to the cross-street, there was an
alternative. I could go into the woods that ran behind these houses. It
wasn't a great choice, with the darkness I would be confronting, and the
lack of a clear path, but the thought of being discovered in my nearly
naked, overtly feminized state terrified me. So I scurried between the
first trees and slowed down to let my eyes adjust. Then I moved forward.
As I went, bushes brushed against my bare legs. I had to step over
fallen branches and negotiate slight changes in elevation. I was making
reasonable progress, navigating by the lights from the backs of the
nearby houses, when I heard voices ahead of me. As I stealthily grew
nearer, it became clear that it was a man and a woman. And they were
enjoying foreplay. I crept closer and saw that the couple was on a
blanket. She said, "John, this is so naughty." He replied, "That's what
makes it so much fun, Mary. And if there's a problem, our place is right
over there. I put that blue light bulb out back so we couldn't get mixed
up."
"Yeah," she said, "I'd hate to get off course when we're half dressed
like this." They laughed softly. I suppose she just felt the need to
make a token protest to prove that she wasn't a complete sex freak. Her
tone softened as she said, "Mmm, it's worth it to get that big thing
that's between our legs." He allowed himself a quite laugh and said,
"Sometimes I think you only married me for that."
"We'll, every woman's crazy for a well hung man." I certainly didn't
need to hear that, be reminded of my own shortcoming, especially not in
my current state. IJ became even more aware of how the ribbon minimized
my genitals. Then they got busy and I crouched down, fearing that they
might spot me. It was an awkward posture but I didn't want to sit on the
ground. It felt like the corset was cutting me in half. I could smell
the scent of the spray in my hair. It was definitely a product intended
for women. The pair on the blanket took their time, had great sex, and
gave each other total pleasure. I was turned on but could do nothing
about it. By the time they were done and had left, I was a quaking
wreck.
From there I moved toward Pam's house, hoping that I wouldn't lose my
way. The possibility of getting off course, the way I looked, was awful.
But I skirted most of the houses, cut through several more yards, and
risked sneaking between two houses to check the street. Not far away I
saw my car parked. With a sigh of relief I hurried on, still unable to
alter my walk, to Pam's back door. I rapped lightly and nothing
happened. I repeated the effort twice more before I got a response
which, unfortunately, was for the rear light to be turned on. I hurried
down the steps and cringed there. At least it was the last house on the
street. And it had been there since before the development growing up
around it was started, so it was an older design. After what seemed like
an hour but was more likely five more minutes, the back door opened and I
crept up the steps and inside. My wife and her friend were standing
there, looking endlessly amused by my plight. Grace asked me, "Did you
stop and visit with anyone on the way here?"
"Yeah," contributed Pam, "were there two of them and did they give you
that pretty ribbon? And corset? And hair style?" Close to tears, I
could only nod. They obviously knew what had happened. My wife had
planned that ambush.
END OF PART ONE
Clover
- 22.07.2022
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