Sharing free porn video

Sharing by Vickie Tern We were relaxing between rounds. He'd already fucked me hard, beautifully, strenously, completely, that thick cock of his pressing deep into me until I could no longer scream out my body's joy, only whimper and gasp and make small sobbing noises. He'd braced himself yet again, and he'd pushed again into that roiled puddle my cunt had become, and I'd felt that marvelous surging and throbbing yet again, after which he'd fallen back exhausted. Again. A few minutes later I felt an overwhelming urge, and told him to sit up. He did, and leaned back against the headboard, watching me take that huge limp tube of his into my mouth and breath lifeblood back into it yet one more time. Watching me slide my lips and my fist up and down on it until his breath came short and his cum spurted yet again, into my mouth and down my throat this time, spurting as fast as I could swallow. For each of us, a farewell treat. Till next time. "Oh, God, that's wonderful!" I told him when I'd thoroughly licked off the cum coating the inside my mouth and at last could barely taste its residue. "But now I have to get home and fix dinner for my loving hubby." Steve grinned. "Do you really feed him my spunk as an appetizer whenever we've been together?" I was standing by now, checking my hair in the mirror and sliding my arms back into my bra. "Of course. I tried to interest you in yours way back, even mixed with mine in my pussy way back, but it was always no go. You're too much a man to want to suck even yourself, I suppose. But not my lovely hubby. We share everything, and I want him to appreciate you too, even though he has no idea that it's you. That's why I just plugged up my pussy with a plastic-covered tampon. To keep you fresh and warm inside me. For his pre-dinner treat!" "He likes my cum, does he?" "He loves it! Of course he thinks it's all my pussy juice. He thinks he's exciting me, stimulating me to exude all that juice, your thick white globs all mixed in. He thinks he does that to me whenever I see him, whenever he kisses me, especially whenever he kisses me down there. I've never corrected him of course. It feels so lovely, so soothing, the sucking, his tongue sliding over my clit and burying itself in my snatch, especially when you've been fucking me raw for hours. I can't possibly tell him what he's lapping up is mostly your sperm. The poor dear would be heartbroken to be told my afternoons and my pussy are often occupied by a man he can't hope to match. As things are now, he's happy. He feels all the more manly, he exults that so much fluid pours out of me when he's down there. Every mouthful and swallow of your cum is for him a triumph." "Hasn't a clue, eh?" I sighed. "Not a clue. Sometimes I feel a little guilty about it. I mean, there he is working so dedicatedly to give me yet another orgasm with his lips and his tongue and his fingers, to drink me down and satisfy me several times before I'll allow his little prick to take its one little turn in me and satisfy itself. I mean, I started him cleaning your cum out of me as a way to share these afternoons with him, though he still doesn't know it. When I share you with him, I don't feel quite so guilty about fucking you. But I do feel a little guilty about deceiving him, letting him think he's doing that to me all by himself." "Even though it pleases him to think so?" "That cheers me some. Still, I'm sad sometimes that all he's getting is leftovers." I was now buttoning up my blouse. Checking me in the mirror -- my short hair was matted down. I reached up and mussed it with my fingers. As it dried it would fall into place, pert and saucy, the way it always was when Steve's powerful hands weren't clamping my head into his crotch. Steve was silent for a moment. I rubbed my palm across the thick hair on his chest. He was so virile! But that huge schlong of his just lay there on his belly, limp. No use. Time to go home. "My dear," he said suddenly. "I'd love to see him eat me out of you some time." His face brightened. "Even better, since he enjoys it so much, why not share me with him? Why not feed him from the source, now and then? I'd let him!" Was he kidding? "What?" "Why not teach him to suck my cock the way you do and love it the way you do? Look at the advantages! You wouldn't feel guilty, and we wouldn't have to hide out. We could spend whole nights together whenever we felt like it, and he couldn't possibly complain because he'd be getting a piece of the action too, from each of us!" My dearest join me in pleasuring Steve? I wasn't too surprised to hear Steve suggest that. He wasn't really bi, but he was virile, and he loved feeling sexually dominant! He'd encourage anyone to please him physically, man or woman. If men, mainly submissive types he could demean as they serviced him and thereby confirmed his superiority. Though mostly women, because after all, that's what it's all about, and when we offer various other favors and pleasures as well, he can accept them as his due without seeming to demean himself. He loved screwing my kind, but he'd screw anyone if he could, at least in the other meaning of that word. Get the better of them by any means! Fuck the wife and invite her husband to service him too, get him to fluff that big cock for another go with the wife? Of course. He'd boast about his various kinds of superiority, "You'd be surprised how easy it is to fuck over certain business associates," he once told me. "The closet gays, they're never a problem. Also the passive types who don't yet know that's what they are, but are willing to do whatever because they want your business. When you get your cock into their mouths or their asses or your hand on their money they may find they like it, or they're too embarrassed to admit they don't, so either way they're fucked! Maybe they're afraid you'll deprive them somehow? Whatever, they lie there and you can do whatever you choose to them. They've got no comeback. " He grinned. "No wriggle room." He was really talking about using people all sorts of ways, taking advantage of them, not just physically fucking them. But it gave me an opening, an opportunity to tell him again why I didn't want him fucking my ass any more. "No, there's no wriggling at all when a cock like yours is inside those kinds of assholes," I'd commented. "How could any of them sit afterward? That one time I let you do my ass I needed cushions for a week! I couldn't attend my Thursday card game, I was still so sore!" Not content to have me, he now wants to stick it to my hubby? Time to return him to reality! "Stevie baby, don't be silly! My darling would never want to take your thing into his mouth or his ass! He isn't gay! He'd never do it for you!" He paused and grinned. Then in a quiet voice he said, "But he'd do it for you!" He'd suck Steve off, or let Steve fuck him, for me? Would he? The thought was intriguing. I let my mind roam. There'd been certain times I wanted to dominate my darling hubby and did it easily, testing his dedication to my pleasure and my will by suggesting certain humiliating acts I'd just love for him to perform for me, cuddling up to him and caressing him and whispering them into his ear. And gratifyingly, he'd do them, whatever I asked! Lick up all that cum in my pussy as if it were a liqueur. Fall asleep with his mouth sucking my big toe as if it were a baby's pacifier. Once he allowed me to piss on his face as he lay in the bathtub -- it had ocurred to me on a whim one morning -- could I? Would he let me? He let me and I did. Another time, on a whim, I wanted to feel superior to him, emasculate him, so at my request he wore one of my bras to work. The first time all day, and then for a whole week! I loved the idea! My girly man! In fact, when he became an at-home consultant, now and then I'd ask him to spend all day wearing my makeup and checking it in his mirror, occasionally repairing it. For some reason, when I get home from work or from fucking Steve, it sometimes reassures me to see him looking at me with those huge dark eyes and pouting red lips. And really, he now knows all the tricks, how to make himself quite pretty! I guess what I really love is dominating his manhood, and his manly willingness to indulge me! I confess it, one of the ways we now make love is, he sucks avidly on one of my dildos while I plunge another in and out of his ass -- now and then that actually provides him an orgasm! But all that's just between us. These challenges to his manhood provide him with opportunities to prove his love, he tells me when I ask him why he obeys me. To serve, he says simply. To be a chivalrous courtier, a gentleman hearkening to the commands of his lady-love, like the lovers in a medieval or renaissance story or play. He's enormously delighted to please me, accommodate to whatever my declared whim. He calls it 'courtesy' rather than 'femdom,' and he enjoys it as what they call 'Courtly Love' -- he once suggested I look the term up, so I did, and I found that the wikepedia article on it goes on and on. That was one way knights got on with their ladies fair. But ask him to perform acts like these with someone else? A man? In the presence of someone else, me? Ask him to kneel in front of Steve's crotch and service what he sees, the way I do? The way most women do for their men? Not for Steve but for me? No. Despite his willingness to endure humiliation in front of me, even to feel emasculated by bras and makeup and so on, no, he wouldn't allow himself to do it with anyone but me. Certainly not with another man. I thought a little more about it. Perhaps with another man as if he were another woman? Would he be willing to experience that state of mind -- and mouth -- fully? Do it to please me of course, but also to please himself? Allow himself to feel that sublime satisfaction a woman feels when she's servicing and satisfying her man? Learn to survive the degradation? I still remember the first time a high school classmate ejaculated into my mouth -- I had to swallow it or ruin my best dress, so I did, and got to like it. Train him to enjoy the marvelously arousing sense of superiority I can feel when my mouth is enslaving a man's penis, reducing him to compulsive whining, a state where all he can do is groan and hump my face helplessly, and finally lose all control and deliver his precious seed to me despite himself? Leaving me to decide whether to spit it out as worthless or swallow it down as precious payment for my effort? What a gift I'd be giving him, a sense of submission and yet domination felt simultaneously! My lovely deserving man! My very own hubby! "You think I could turn my main man into a cocksucker?" I asked Steve. I now thought it likely, but maybe Steve had his own reasons. Apart from that standard wishful desire all men seem to feel to lord it over all other males. Steve was thinking exactly as I'd been thinking. "Not directly. First, into a woman, then into a cocksucker." He sat me down and poured me a glass of wine. And continued, explaining. "I had a good buddy whose wife did it to him, and it took her less than a month. A shy, insecure guy. She dressed him up to feel appropriate, got him looking like a New Orleans whore. Then she fed him her prick, her strap on. Every day, until it felt as ordinary to him as scrubbing his teeth or eating ice cream. He hesitated a lot at first, of course, but eventually he did it to please her. Most men will do what their wives really want. She told him it was so he'd understand the pleasure men can provide their wives, learn to do it better, give them more. Begin to feel what a woman feels -- she insisted he get get fucked to service her and reward himself at the same time. When he got comfortable with her dildos, she insisted he try a real cock, at first to please her, but then after a few tries it got obvious he was doing it to please himself. Then a different man's different cock, so he could learn the differences. He got to love cock after a while." "How do you know that?" "I got to be one of his boyfriends. One of his wife's regulars for a long time, but then his too." He grinned broadly at me. I was getting dressed now and he was obviously admiring my round ass as I pulled up my satin panties, slipped my dress down to cover it, tightened my belt, and turned to give him a side view of my braless tits. They're pretty large, and they push way out in front of me even by themselves! The round globes of my derriere push out impressively behind me. Long ago, I'd reconciled myself to the fact that neither would ever be like a runway model's, shapely but minimal, exhibiting but not distracting attention from the dress. Then I learned that guys love big boobs and a round ass, especially above and below a narrow waist, especially when they both undulate simultaneously. It dazzles them! I can attract lots of eyes when I walk down a street, if I mean to. And I often do mean to. It amuses me. "What'd she do, hypnotize him to make him gay?" The idea was taking hold. I wanted to see what he'd suggest. "That'd be one way. But her way was cleverer, and much more satisfying for both of them, though it took a little longer. She introduced him little by little into being a girl, feeling like one, enjoying girly pleasures to please her, then to please himself, supposedly the same girly pleasures. Dressing up and swishing around, you know. Then special girly pleasures with dildos, so cocksucking wouldn't just overwhelm his manhood, it would confirm his womanhood, add to his pleasure at being a woman. Then she got him accustomed to pleasing himself by pleasing me. One night she urged him to offer his ass to me too, and that completed the process." Steve grinned in his superior way. "I must say, he was utterly fucked! He had nowhere to go after that but further into girlyness." I must have looked skeptical, because Steve continued, recalling it all with evident pleasure. "Oh, sure, he was unsure about it all along, every step of it, every time. But I never let on that I knew he wasn't already a tried and true lady, the kind who appreciates a real man, so he got right into it. He hid behind himself as a tried and true lady. He even got to think the way women like to think when I'm reaming them, that he was using me for his own pleasure, using me instead of the other way around. Eventually he got to love the feel of a cock buried deep inside him, maybe the third or fourth time I shoved one in. And he still does! Though these days it's someone else's cock -- I don't see him any more. I broke a date with him once, and when he came by my house to ask why, he found me fucking his wife. I remember the very moment -- she was shrieking loud enough to wake the dead when he opened the bedroom door and looked in. Then he got furious with me. "Because his wife seemed to prefer you?" "No, because I seemed to prefer his wife. He felt hurt that I'd rather fuck her than him. He was right, of course, I did prefer her. I mean, women have three places for a man to put his cock, and he had only two. Then again, even though she'd put him on hormones and after a while he'd grown these huge, soft tits, he still wasn't as soft and smooth as she was. Not at all as plumped up in the right places. Eventually he left her. He found another guy who loved him for what he was and promised to remain true, to fuck only his ass and no one else's. So he divorced her, and after a while, when she'd used me up along with the other local men, she moved away. That was a few years ago now." I turned toward Steve, now also fully dressed and presentable and also ready to leave, to resume his day. My pussy was well-plugged, Steve's cum safe inside, and I was now looking forward to the feel of my lovely husband's lips against its lips as he drained me. That sweet, dear man had such plump lips of his own -- a special lipstick I'd bought him had done that to them! Then too, that marvelously long tongue of his had never failed to find my depths. I sometimes wondered if one of my dildoes could move him as deeply some day, offer him the same pleasure. I loved the man, and I wanted him to feel everything I was feeling! If only I could share all this with him! Not just the leftover juices. Share Steve too! As he'd said! "We'll see," I told Steve, who was sitting there on the bed we'd shared for the past few hours, grinning openly at me, grinning a superior, self-satisfied smirk. "No way could my darling hubby appreciate you the way I do. Not now, anyway. I mean, even apart from the fact that he likes girls, not guys, your prick is way too big for him. Maybe I can open him up for you over time. Maybe he'll let me dildo fuck him in the ass the same way he fucks me in the ass. You've stretched my cunt out, so now he can't feel it at all, the poor dear, because he's a lot smaller than you. So these days my ass is a lot more satisfying to him. It grips him better. And that little penis of his feels quite comfortable when it's snugged in back there, while yours felt like a whale thrashing about, tearing me wide open. Maybe in time I can prepare his ass for a cock like yours. Stretch him out enough and then let you take it from there. We'll see." Steve smiled wide. He liked that I was offering my husband's ass as well as his mouth. I began wondering how I could actually bring it about. I knew my man could make a marvelous woman, he was slight of build and delicate in his movements, and I'd seen his possibilities with a bra and makeup. Her possibilities. But bring my darling the whole distance? So she'd thank me afterward, and maybe love me all the more? There'd been plenty of men in my life, but no women! Not intimately, anyhow. I suddenly realized I'd love to be intimate with a woman who loved me. "This woman you knew," I asked him. "Did she also feed her husband female hormones to make him just a little more pliable, maybe also soften up his body some?" I'd thought of doing that to my man early in our marriage, just for the novelty of it. To see what would happen. In fact I'd actually started doing it, and after a week or so of my dropping pills into his morning coffee he'd started growing boobs. Or anyhow, he'd grown lumps behind his nipples that poked them out -- he still had them, the darling, and I knew by his squirming that whenever I caress them, they give him the same delicious sensations mine give me. That had been fascinating! But those hormones had also softened his little prick some -- so nowadays even while we're fucking I find my mind drifting toward some of the afternoons I spend with other men. That frightened me. His depleted penis seemed such a threat to my marriage I'd quit feeding him those female hormones right then and there. But now? Steve was speaking. "Once she decided to leave him, she drowned him in hormones! Maybe for spite, maybe as a farewell gift, I don't know. Women may be less aggressive than men, but they can get a lot more edgy. This hubby she feminized, he got more and more temperamental. Remember, he ended up blind jealous of her because I preferred her to him? Because I usually fucked her first and him only afterward." "You say they split?" "Yes. But it worked out fine for him anyhow. He got himself doctored and nowadays he's a one man gay dating service. A perfect girl for dating by gay men who don't dare come out and be known to be gay. They take him to their corporate dinners and so on, rather than bringing a relative or hiring a female escort, because then they can look forward to fucking him afterward. Or getting fucked by him. But babe, let me add a little more cum to what you've got saved up in there for your husband, All this talk has stiffened me again. " "All right. But no plunging all the way into me. There isn't room in there for both your cock and all that cum. Part way only, yes, that I'd love!" So he did. God, what incredible restraint! I stroked him and then I blew him, and only at the last minute did I let him poke that thing's head into me and let loose, fill my cunt to the very brim. Now I really was running over! There was easily a full course meal in there! As I was getting into my car he called out to me. "About your hubby? I'd say, start him on hormones immediately. For his sake! Then when he has breasts he can display and a tush you can penetrate, he'll learn the pleasures both provide, and he may not even notice that his penis is providing him less and less. Teach him how to display his figure and gradually he'll involve himself with women's fashions, get fascinated by different styles the way many women are. Most women -- they're always deciding what kind of woman they are, how they feel today, and sometimes changing their minds. Then after a while he'll have no choice, he'll always be trying to assemble the most attractive outfits he can afford for whatever moods and occasions. I bet he'll learn to love his boobs, especially when he's making love. When he isn't, he'll love exhibiting them in stylish clothes designed for the purpose! Then we can both appreciate him!" Was that an additional persuasive argument? Was Steve suggesting that when my lovely man's figure reshapes itself, I can not only use him for sex, I can also lend him out? Lend him out to Steve when I didn't want him for myself? No matter. I realized I now had my own reasons for feminizing my beloved. To feel even closer to him. So he'll know he's more like me, so we both know it. To increase and enhance our similarities, share more of our mutual pleasures. To share even my greatest pleasure, blowing and fucking Steve! That would bring us so much closer together! I hardly remember driving home, I was so preoccupied with these possibilities. When I got there, my sweetheart looked up from his newspaper, and I just looked down at him, and he immediately rose to accompany me into the bedroom. Soon after my darling had emptied my pussy of Steve's cum, a long, slow, seemingly endless process bringing me two more beautiful orgasms along the way, I fed him his first pills. A triple dose, then more the next morning. A few days later he developed morning sickness, puzzling him but amusing and gratifying me. It lasted for only a few more days, and then he felt flushed and fine, reinvigorated! "I'm like a new man!" he told me zestfully, and I nodded, even though he hadn't quite got it right. His new breasts resumed their growth a few weeks later and their nipples doubled in size. This time I marveled and exulted and complimented him, over and over, so he wouldn't want to consider it something irregular. "It happens to so few!" I reassured him. "We're so lucky!" I caressed and sucked them nightly while masturbating his penis. That turgid flesh down below had been nothing like Steve's to begin with, and it became even less as time passed. And his body's shape was changing in other ways too. I made sure that whatever his cock's erotic feelings, they were associated with and eventually transferred into his nipples. Soon those two teeny cocks got erect whenever touched, and my sucking on them brought him repeated orgasms! The first time we both exulted! Me especially, because he described their feelings not as a stiffening and then a massive release, like a penis's, but more languorous, breathlessly girly, as rising waves that peaked and then overwhelmed, then rolled on instead of merely receding like a man's. "It's just lovely," he said. "They sound just like mine," I informed him, kissing him passionately to celebrate our new togetherness that way too! I soon got him addicted to those feelings, those new female orgasms. As his body also softened and then swelled up in other places too, I celebrated it! He worried at first, but was overwhelmed and consoled by my constant and growing reassurance, my outcries of ever-greater satisfaction. When it seemed not unsuitable, I got him some lovely, delicate bras and matching lacy panties, and I exulted so effusively that he dressed himself in them every day, at first modestly, then sometimes routinely but sometimes provocatively. It really was marvelous, living with my new girlfriend! We experimented together with different styles of lovemaking as also with different styles of makeup, giggling together, and soon he loved knowing he was dressed sexy underneath all the time. Then increasingly, on top. Along the way I introduced him to a few basic styles of women's clothes, sporty, informal, and formal, and some casual and dressy variations of each. My heart swelled with pride when, four months into his transformation, he brought home a number of tasteful sets of slacks and blouses, skirts and dresses. He'd gone out to buy them himself unbidden, already dressed to impress saleswomen so they'd show him only the most chic versions of each kind. That's what they'd shown him, and that's what he'd bought. From then on he never left the house without looking stunning! Similarly, by his third visit to the beauty salon I no longer needed to accompany him -- he could order up whichever services on his own, and he preferred surprising me with whatever new hairdo or eye makeup he was trying out. It all became a marvelous, fortunate game, and while he now and then worried about it, I reassured him that we could always reverse whatever was happening, that middle-aged men should want to 'counterbalance' their sex, as I called the process, and feel some of what their desired partners feel. I suggested he consider his whole body a fine-tuned harp for playing new tunes as well as the old ones, as long as we played him lovingly. And I did, often sending him into an ecstatic trance. I took to stroking, tugging, squeezing, and kissing him everywhere, especially through his newly acquired, utterly feminine silk and satin undergarments. And I kept persuading him that he was becoming -- miraculously -- just what I'd always wanted him to be! That I adored his delicate effeminacy! I did, too! Just not only for my own uses! Six months into his feminizing, after our dildo-play had become routine -- I still thought of it as rehearsing -- I thought my darling hubby might be ready to be fucked out of his mind by the stud I was meanwhile also fucking. This was the most critical, the most dangerous stage, but we had to get past it. I finally told him about Steve, how I'd found a man who could introduce him to a whole new world of feminine experiences. I shyly confessed that I'd tried him myself, to see if he'd be suitable for my lovely husband, and found him marvelous. "See for yourself," I said. "Here, taste this!" I handed him a small glass of Steve's cum I'd saved out for the purpose. A crucial moment. My sweetie sipped, commented that it tasted no different from my cunt, emptied the glass, swallowed, then said nothing more. He seemed reassured. But I may have been deceiving myself, because a while later he was still saying nothing, and gradually he became withdrawn, his face almost stern. The next day he still wouldn't speak to me, and I began to despair. I wondered if all this had all been for nothing, whether my self-evident betrayal of him had driven him away, perhaps eventually into the arms of another woman. Or by now, possibly, another man. Apparently a few days later he'd thought things through. He came to breakfast relaxed, smiling, and asked to be introduced to "this Steve." I told him I would set the two of them up for appropriate intimacies, and that some would be new to him though none were to me. Above all, I stressed, I wanted him to feel what I felt, to learn to love feeling how I felt. "That's what I need for all this to seem finally worth while!" I told him. "Doing it for you is what makes this worth while for me," he replied sincerely. "Whatever it is you've been wanting me to do." That darling! I ran into his arms and clutched him close to me! Part of me felt terrible, but there was too much at stake, too much invested, for us to change course. I explained that men like Steve are one of the extra privileges available to women, and also to men fortunate enough to live as if they were women. He agreed to try him. When I introduced them at last, my sweetheart seemed altogether amiable. Soon all three of us were kissing each other wherever! Steve was gentle, and I was loving and attentive, and soon we were all three practically one! We each took turns sucking on Steve's cock, my sweetheart first merely licking it, then sliding his mouth around on it, and then finally swallowing it downso Steve could fuck his throat. Steve then fucked me, and as my mouth and tongue renewed his erection my loving mate sucked Steve's fresh cum out of my pussy as always. Carefully at first, because he felt unsure what it would be like. But then, as he recognized what it was like, he did it avidly, dedicatedly, for me. Steve then urged him to follow my example and try the feel of a cock in his lower regions. So my darling did that too, and as it turned out, he loved it! He adored getting laid! I'd enlarged his asshole pussy well, and I'd accustomed him to the ins and outs of using a man while the man uses you! That first time, while entering him Steve held each of his breasts in his hands and caressed their tips whole his penis slowly, majestically worked its way into his rear. My darling told me later he'd fainted and gone to heaven! A few weeks later I began feeling a twinge of jealousy and envy. My precious hubby was still wrapping himself around Steve, behaving like an utter cock slut, eagerly awaiting his turn while Steve first fucked me in whichever hole he fancied, then turned to my mate for more. What happened eventually was what we thought might happen eventually. Of course. Steve moved on to other lovers, and we began to rededicate ourselves to each other. My lovely hubby -- now my devoted live-in girlfriend who wanted it no other way -- stayed with Steve a little while longer, anyhow, learning from him whatever she could about sex with men. But she nevertheless considered herself firmly married to me. "You did it with him, and now I'm doing it with him -- what's the difference?" she said. There was none, essentially. Whenever I changed men she welcomed my cunt's different changes of flavor, and we'd chat about the men who were their sources, sometimes giggling about their odd notions of themselves. She began to encourage more such diversity. We soon came to love what we were each doing, and each other, so passionately and devotedly that she too soon tired of Steve and was also ready for someone new. She asked me to make the arrangements, so of course I did. She's returned the favor whenever I've asked her to introduce me to some new man, and I'm as pleased as she is when she offers to let me suck and lick her men out from her own newly installed, soon-well-tested vagina. She is such a darling, my sweet hubby! We couldn't feel closer. Between our mouths and our pussies, our two tummies never lack for sperm. We don't either of us need husbands. We have each other, and because we're two women, we can always find and enjoy twice as many available men! And if they're gentlemen -- most are -- they in turn dedicatedly serve us. Though one day when we were returning together after a glorious weekend spent with two men who had dedicated themselves utterly to our pleasure, she lamented that Steve, for all his understanding of such things, couldn't possibly be feeling as radiant, as gorgeously, gloriously, superbly fucked over as we were. "He launched us, so even though he's only a man, he deserves better," my sweet hubby said, tossing her head firmly. "Can't we do unto others what has been done unto us?" I had to allow we should. So we called an accomodating physician, who provided an abundant supply of hormone pills and sufficient anti-anxiety pills to accompany them, and then we chocolate coated the pills and packaged them in pretty plastic, one package for each day of the week for many, many weeks, each tied by a ribbon. Then paused at Steve's house to wake him from his previous night's debaucheries -- he was sleeping alone for once -- so we could initiate the remainder of his life and meanwhile enjoy him one more time. He was delighted with our present to him, months and months of chocolate snacks to nibble while watching TV, and we promised him more when they ran out. Regrettably, full sex as a female remained inaccessible to Steve. Over many months the hormones softened his cock and more or less feminized him, even fattened him so he never noticed his growing tits until they were ... well, huge. He worried about these changes not at all, suspecting nothing until his balls shrank and the process had become irreversible. Despite all that, his physique remained too buff, too manly, and his face too craggy ever to seem persuasively a woman's. So he was rendered helpless, caught between two worlds. But they were wide worlds, and eventually he found many men and women with their own peculiar desires, including a desire for bodies compromised by gender issues, bodies that bend easily either way. Or they found him. He found himself sometimes doing delightful if peculiarly perverse things with these people, with all his accustomed vigor. We didn't even want to know about many of them, but we'd enlarged his horizons as he'd opened ours, and eventually he thanked us, expressing the same gratitude to us that we felt for him. My lovely hubby graciously told him he was welcome. "Sauce for the goose has become sauce for the gander," she said somewhat cryptically. "I love what's happened to me. But we need to respect choices. And those who choose to fuck other people's women should always end up fucked." I'm not exactly sure what she meant by that, and probably that's for the best. My lovely hubby, my sweet girl and I are now utterly, exclusively devoted to each other. And to sharing the men in our lives three ways, sucking and fucking and eating them directly, separately and together, and then later eating them out of each other. Could any married couple feel closer? (c) 2016 by VickieTern