Tim's Breasts free porn video

Tim's Breasts by Vickie Tern She loves her hubby, and wants to share her other men with him. So she needs to make him more attractive to them. He never guessed why! I'd been indifferent to my husband for a few years, but at last I figured out how to revivify my marriage, how to return erotic desire to our intimacies. For a few years I'd been merely pecking at his cheek -- at most -- when he came home from work. But now I began kissing him carefully -- slowly, fully, passionately, using lots of tongue and especially lots of spit swapping. Then I'd lead him to our bed and pull his head down between my legs and plant his mouth tight against my quim and just hold it there, eagerly anticipating. Waiting for his tongue to enter me and slurp me out and lick my labia and feel as delicious to me as it was tasty to him. After a puzzled few times, he figured out what I wanted and began to anticipate it, put his heart into it and bring me off copiously. God, then it was wonderful! Every time I rose to yet another orgasmic spasm, all those juices flowing out of me, he'd suck them up and swallow them down, fill his tummy eagerly, if only to keep his face and the sheets from being soaked, but sometimes merely to breathe again! He quickly learned to love it! Especially he loved that I tasted different each time. I told him my flavors probably vary with whatever I've most recently eaten, and that I love surprising him, that accordingly I'd nibble something different each day before he came home. True enough. And he bought it. But now that script was nearing an end. I dearly love my husband, and I know he loves me as much or more. But ... well, he's always been such an unsatisfactory lover. I suppose I originally assumed he'd improve when we got married and had more time to devote to our lovemaking. But after we married, even after we'd been married quite a while, it was no different. He simply could not understand that 'Wham, Bam, Thank you Ma'am!' works for some men but no way for a woman who is not -- like maybe some prostitutes -- on a time clock. So guiltily at first, then zestfully, after several years of unsatisfying sex with my husband I made other arrangements. I began seeing other men too, and over time I collected a menagerie, all of them very well-endowed gentlemen, patient with me, skilled at arousing my pussy and their own pleasure. All of them discreet -- if they learned even about each other I'd drop them. Sometimes I'd visit several in the same week, so no one of them could ever tempt me to concentrate my affections on him alone and steal me away from my darling. I used them only for sex. Glorious, sometimes sensational sex! And they used me for whatever I'd tolerate -- God, almost anything! But Tim was my life! Now at last it was time for Tim to know. I wanted to reveal all, share all my arrangements with my darling! It was past time in fact! I'd been seeing one or another of my other men on different afternoons, each time greeting him enthusiastically, legs wide open, and getting roundly reamed in return. I'd often suck them off first, warm them up. But their mouths were never allowed near my pussy -- that was my Tim's domain exclusively. I felt much less guilty about my adventures and my various men when Tim shared them, shared their juices. When he could at least taste their gravy after they'd fed me their meat. At first, before parting from each lover I'd suck him off yet again, then hurry home with his semen shining on my lips and greet my darling hubby enthusiastically, sliding and wiping other men's cum onto and into his mouth as thoroughly as I could when kissing him hello. I loved the shared intimacy, even though Tim didn't share in knowing what it was. It was risky of course -- sooner or later he might notice that my face's flavor, my tongue's taste, my saliva, wasn't all mine. But eventually I realized I could clear my conscience and eliminate risk if I shared all of my lovers' excrescences with my Tim, my one true man. So I weaned him away from my face and into the cream pies between my legs. Early in my affairs I'd keep semen from staining my dresses or slacks by tucking a tampon into my pussy before leaving a motel or some other man's apartment. Now I realized I was wasting perfectly tasty semen by letting it soak into absorbent cotton and then tossing it. So I took instead to using a butt plug to close up my vagina, sealing everything in. Then when I got home, when my darling and I were kissing passionately I'd look him straight in the eyes, tug it out, and twist it still lubricated with other men's cum into his own rump. So he could feel he was also fucked. "So when you cum and you clamp down, you'll know how I feel when I cum and clamp down on you," is what I told him. Then I'd pull his head down between my legs, and before we did anything else he'd suck me out. Whatever man goop I brought home to share with him, all sticky and warm, became his feast. His mouth would drain me of whatever lover's cum and get me off two or three more times before he himself at last entered me, filled me with his cock, and came within a minute -- before he'd whammed, bammed, and thanked me. Sometimes he'd come so hard that the well-lubricated butt plug popped right out of his ass! But he loved it! He thought he was why I was filled with all that sticky glop, that my excitement with him was why my pussy exuded all the secretions he was swallowing down, all that thick spunk. So he ate me ardently, devotedly, always trying to suck down more from further up inside me! That moved me in turn to fuck my different guys all the harder and more often, especially the long-pricked ones who could squirt way high up! At least several times with each, to provide more man juice for my beloved man and thereby prolong my own orgasmic sessions with him. But this kind of sharing was always tinged with regret, because my sweetie was still missing the other experienes I loved. For example, he really had no idea how one's plump lips can feel while sliding up and down a man's warm, wet, satiny, fat, fleshy tube and nibbling on its soft pink or purple helmet. How lips -- a whole mouth -- can feel when that prick pulses and swells and then squirts fresh goop into the back of your mouth. Every time I came home and kissed him, my full lips on his thin lips, I felt sad that his lips had never once wrapped themselves around a cock. I so badly wanted him to share that wicked pleasure with me! Even more, for his body to enclose one, to feel its warmth. So the idea grew -- if I enjoy cock so much, and I want to share the enjoyment with my lovely husband the way I already share semen, why not arrange for him to enjoy the same thing at first hand? So to speak. Without worrying, with no anxiety about whether it makes him queer. Not even knowing, maybe, until the pleasure is so great he no longer cares. Why shouldn't he enjoy that greater pleasure, the feel of a warm tube sliding in and out of the most tender places of his lower body until delicious feelings rise up and take over and at last his whole body throbs deep into the center of his soul! If my Tim could ever feel that, share that with me, we'd really feel we were one! Truly wedded! Moreover, our marriage would no longer be endangered by the constant threat of discovery, by bitter accusations of infidelity and all that! We'd both know what we were doing, who we were seeing. Maybe we'd even giggle together about one or another of our men as we snuggled and hugged each other and then, mutually exhausted, fell asleep in each other's arms. But how could he share my men? How could I persuade him to try the actual experience? That would be difficult. I knew there were ways to bring him along, maybe to drug him, or deceive him somehow until he'd done it and there was no getting around it, no going back. The old saying's true enough, a man can push himself into a virgin pussy but he can't pull himself out of one. The same thing applied to a man's ass once it's been plowed. No escaping the fact then -- he's fucked! Anyhow, it wasn't going to happen. My men were all real men, hunks, too masculine to allow other men anywhere near their cocks. Nor to plow another man's ass. Not even to touch a man down below, even through clothing. They'd lift one of their ham-sized fists and knock anyone attempting it into the next room. No, not even as a special favor to me would any of my men fuck my hubby, or permit or grant him a blow job. Poor Tim! So, I had a problem. Something had to change. *************** I raised the issue with my girlhood friend Margot during our weekly luncheon. She was now my gynecologist and always a close confidante, though herself a devout lesbian who played the field. I could tell her all. My rampant infidelities with other men had amused and baffled her for years. "I've never understood the attraction, what happens to so-called normal women when a man's in the vicinity," she remarked. "Our bras and panties and chemises, everything we wear against our skin, they're always so smooth, slippery nylon or silk or satin, never rough stuff like wool or cotton. And our skin too, we use all sorts of emollients to keep it feeling soft and smooth. Yet, rub ourselves on men? You, for instance? You slide your tender, delicate complexion against a crude, hairy beast with a sandpaper face and a hard-muscled, calloused, bony body, when you could be held instead by slim, delicate arms and pressed against smooth skin, a soft, silky, self-pillowed, perfumed body! Men may be crude animals, but they have all the right desires! They want to writhe and wriggle against us, against warm, velvety bodies, sink into them, make love to them and feel them respond in turn. That's what men prefer. Even obviously Tim. But you don't?" "Not especially," was my diplomatic reply. "Though the idea could turn me on." It did. It was attractive. She knew I'd experimented with girls when I was in college, and the two of us had slept together very satisfyingly more than once. The first time, we were both out of town attending a conference and sharing a bed to save money, and we'd felt passionate. At first we'd touched, then caressed each other's soft boobs, then lavished our lips on each other's nipples in a kind of half--body sixty- nine. As I'd kissed them, those nubs of hers had hardened into thimbles crying out to be sucked, and mine too under her tongue. As mine still did, whatever the mouth. Our desires built, so we moved on down toward each other's crotches into an all-out, genuine sixty-nine. Margot's mouth fastened onto my labia as if it were a pastry, her tongue reaching deep inside, tasting and scooping out the creamy filling. As mine did hers. She'd tasted a little salty at first, but only for a moment, and it pleased her, so I got further into it, lavished my lips on her. Meanwhile she did wonderful things to me down below, and as I approached a huge climax I crammed her face tight into my crotch and licked her cunt furiously. Oh, God! We'd orgasmed together massively, unforgettably! So we did it a few more times. More than a few. But it wasn't habit- forming, not for me anyhow. She was only a girl, after all, not a guy. We felt for each other but no way could she awaken in me the affection, devotion, and lust I felt for guys. Some guys more than others of course. My Tim most of all for the tender passion I could feel for him and in him whenever he came near me. But my selected studs too, for the massive satisfaction their vigorous thrusting brought to my body. "You know," I continued to Margot. "If a man has a pole and plunges it into me, impales me, uses it to raise me up high into the heavens, I don't need any other kinds of feelings for him. No strong desire to make him happy and keep him happy. No affection, no deep caring, no love. I can anticipate his rod and his staff comforting me, and I can feel deeply satisfied afterward. But that's it. That's how I know what I feeI for Tim is real! Real love! Really sincere, devoted affection! I care so much for him, and I know he feels the same for me. My men sometimes claim they feel that way too, but I know they mean mainly my cunt, nothing else. They feel affection for my boobs too, and I feel the same way about their cocks. But Tim feels that way about my whole body! About any of my desires! I know it! And that's how I feel about Tim's." "Lucky Tim! Does he also have a 'massive pole' to shove into you? A big cock?" She didn't sound envious. Nor jealous, only curious. "No, not at all. It's only average. If that. Nothing like those things that hang down from some of my guys and then rise up when they see me. But a short prick isn't the problem. His short duration's the problem. With Tim it's in and out and done almost before it's in. That's why I supplement with other men. He's adequate, I suppose. Easy to bring off, so with every session I can always be sure he cums at least once. But I vastly prefer his tongue in my cunt. It's a great tongue! My God, prehensile, it wriggles and stiffens into all sorts of shapes, pushing and pressing and curling and scooping. It's tireless! Once I feel it snug inside me and snuggling further in, I just can't stop climaxing! Ooooh, even the thought of it! I'm grateful for that. No, my main pleasure with Tim isn't from fucking, it's from his trying to please me. From feeling him eagerly lick out all the cum I can accumulate by fucking other men. He thinks it's all my own." "Even what comes from your rear?" Now she sounded amused. "Of course! I'll let one or another of my men use my ass when they've earned a special reward for special services, and then I always let Tim eat me out there as a reward for his special services." "Special services like?" She seemed almost professionally interested. "Well, for instance, if I'm sitting on his face and building toward a second or third climax, and suddenly I feel a need to pee, I never have to interrupt things. I can stay right there and let loose and know that he'll swallow it all right down. He likes feeling me in him, I guess. "So he likes feeling you in him? And your sex with him is mostly oral? He's more the way we were? Not a man's man, more like a woman's woman? Or like you, maybe also a man's woman?" She was looking at me steadily, with a slight smile. An odd idea, I thought. Tim like one of us, a woman? But could I deny it? "Yes, I'm afraid so. Once he blows his spunk into me it's over, his prick's finished. So I use his tongue to clean me out and bring me up and off. Then later other men's cocks fill in again." "You use his tongue to service your pussy, and service your other men indirectly, you mean? As a kind of coming attraction? How very interesting! But doesn't Tim also enjoy feeling your soft, perfumed body pressed against his? The way we once enjoyed each other?" As she spoke, she stared directly into my eyes. I began to see where she was going. "Don't forget my boobs pressed against him too," I confided. "He's crazy about boobs. And in return, I love his nipples. He once confessed to me that they're very sensitive -- when we aren't together he can play with them himself, feel aroused, and actually bring himself off. Though what's underneath them is only chest, not breast." "They're erogenous? And he plays with them?" Her eyes never left me. "Yes. I can make him cum just by sucking on them. It's a gift. He can't get enough of it." Now Margot smiled. "Then there's your answer! Give him enough! More than he can handle!" I stared at her. She began to explain. "All men love breasts, don't they? From infancy on?" "Yes, when they're babies they have every reason in the world to love them. To suck on a breast creates a satisfying, full feeling in your tummy. Then when they're grown up, there's another big reason -- breasts are the most obvious of a woman's intimate features. Give a man access and he thinks he's getting her true love. Exclusively. Tim's fingers and mouth can linger over mine for hours." "Can it be he's envious?" I stared at her. "Of your breasts. Of women who have breasts. That he finds them beautiful? Desirable?" "Men do desire them," I said. "Maybe Tim envies the way I feel when he sucks on them. I'm ecstatic, I make no secret of it." "Breasts are what attract men to women in the first place, aren't they? Where they first try to cop a feel? Where they usually pause when their hands are en route further down?" True enough. I nodded. "Well, what I suggest is, if Tim has such sensitive nipples and enjoys them, provide him with full breasts to match. His very own breasts! Where his own hands and your hands can loiter for hours of enjoyment, slow, thorough enjoyment. Teach him to love them, even to display them proudly the way we do ours! Then once he has breasts and you know he enjoys them, buy him some good bras, pretty bras so he can show them to you, strong bras so he can show them to the world. So he can feel as proud of his own as you are of yours!" I stared even longer at her. She explained her reasoning. "He could get them installed of course. But if his cock is only average and its uses are limited, there's no loss for him to grow his own naturally, the way you did yours. With hormones. If a side effect of female hormones should happen to render that cock even less useful, you won't miss it. He wouldn't need to either! Because then you can both concentrate on what's already more important and much more satisfying -- his mouth on your cunt and yours on his nipples and his boobs. As a bonus, his new boobs might even interest your other men, get them willing to use his mouth on their cocks too. Then you're really sharing with him and everyone benefits!" Odd, but even so, what she was saying made sense! That was a lot to gain for my sweetheart! For both of us! And very little to lose! "It seems to me there's your answer. Do both Tim and your men a favor. Give him those two places on a girl's chest where men's mouths always loiter. In fact while you're at it, why not make the rest of him over too! Change him altogether! Into as attractive a woman as he can be! So he appeals to himself, but also to other men, and yet preserves for you what you most love about him, his tongue and his love for your own intimate places! From what you say, he could well end up loving his new self! Maybe he could learn to please men with both ends of his body as well as with his new boobs. Ass over head, the way you do! Maybe you could finish up by sharing your whole roster of men with him!" She was joking! But was she? Talk about sudden enlightenment? How could I have not seen it? Of course! I repeated the essence of her advice aloud. "Make him attractive to men? Give him tits?" "Make him attractive to himself, first of all. Then to other men. Yes, tits! The kind of body he already desires. A pretty face too, if possible -- his is already cute, so that's not a real problem! Do it right and he'll love it! How could he not? Don't you love yours?" How not indeed? Of course! Give Tim large, soft, round breasts and the feminine attributes that go with them! A smooth skin! A shape like mine! He loves me, so he'll love himself all the more! And my men will love him too, I can see to it, and he'll love that eventually the way I do, and then I won't feel selfish or guilty any more! We'll enjoy each other and share everyone else with each other! "Thank you, Margot!" I effused. "It simply never occurred to me!" "Not at all! Stop by my office whenever. You'll need two kinds of prescriptions, one to change him, and one to keep him feeling so comfortable he doesn't notice or care about the changes, except to enjoy them. So she doesn't notice or care, I mean." "I'll walk back with you and get them right now!" I said. This could be the solution to everything! I won't merely share my men, because I'll always want his tongue inside me tasting them. But all the better if he has some of his own! Margot paused and considered the situation. "It's odd," she mused. "I'm sure you two feel each other up all the time, the way we'd feel each other up, the two of us together, in the old days, especially our nipples. And he goes down on you and licks you out the way we did too with each other? Yet it never occurred to you that the more he resembles us, the easier it gets for him? To find men he can use to please himself while he's pleasing them, each man a further proof of how much you love him? Oh, my, Carol! Well, I'll love watching how he turns out as you turn him out! I'll bet that even naked, he'll look and feel luscious in a mere matter of months." She reached for her purse. "I'll get the check this time, honey! You can get it next time." ************ That settled it. The next morning, my adorableTim swallowed his first two 'vitamin' pills with his breakfast cereal, and I felt auspicious, triumphant, as I sent him off to see Margot for metabolic testing and some long-term injections as well. He was willing, in fact appreciative of my new concern for his health. I spent the whole next afternoon celebrating with one of my favorite men, tasty Andy, who filled me full up and brimming over. Mouth, cunt, and ass, each filled first by his cock and then by his semen. That night, after he swallowed his evening pills, I shared Andy's cum with Tim, and Tim filled his belly. He seemed to love the flavor, as usual thinking it was all me the whole time of course. Then when he'd sucked out Andy's last glop of cum and my cunt was empty, I pushed one of my boobs into his mouth and instructed him, "Suck some more! And keep sucking!" He did of course, and I played with his nipples while I watched him. I saw how his own nipples hardened, teaching him to feel as utterly dedicated to pleasure as mine. It occurred to me, my darling might well end up a dedicated cocksucker! I asked him, "Sweetie, have you ever wondered what it would be like to have a pair of these? Real, full breasts of your own?" He nodded, not removing his mouth, so my breast bobbled with his head. His tongue on my nipple almost melted me altogether! Yessss! I knew it! He had wondered what it would be like! He had imagined he had breasts, and no doubt everything associated with them! Meaning everything feminine! Maybe even also a cunt? I'd sometimes wondered, from the ways he handled my underthings when it was his turn to do our laundry. He'd pick up and hold my bras reverently, as if reluctant to let go of them. He'd lift one, maybe even hold it to his chest briefly, then shake his head as if amused. Was he trying them on in his imagination? Feeling shamefully inadequate? If so, no longer! I embraced his head gently, and as he felt my affection he renewed his sucking on my distended nipple with his lips and tongue. It was sore, Andy had been there for some time a few hours earlier. But now it was my sweet hubby's turn, they were his, so I paid no attention to the tenderness as my Tim grasped each and gobbled first one, then the other. And finally, spoke in answer to my question. "I do have a pair like these," he answered, his mouth full. "Yours." A gallant reply, but not what I wanted to hear. "You should try," I said. He lifted his head for a moment and looked at me puzzled. "Try what?" "Try enjoying your own breasts too. On your own body. The way I do mine!" I wriggled my torso a little suggestively, to emphasize the pleasures. Then came the clincher. "So I can enjoy yours the same way you enjoy mine." His eyes glowed, but then he looked puzzled. "I'm not appropriately equipped," he said finally, as he dipped his head and returned to his task. I persisted. "We don't know that. Once I wasn't, but then I was. You'll need to do what I did, put on a bra and wear it and see what happens." I knew full well what was going to happen after a while. "See how it feels, how it gathers up whatever flesh there is on your chest and gives it shape. At least for a week or two." Within a few weeks, Margot had assured me, his pills and those shots would develop two unmanly but distinctive growths there. At least extend the tips of those mounds -- his nipples would look gorgeous and feel heavenly when touched, utterly divine when caressed or ... or sucked. In fact, each time he felt pursed lips pulsing on them and a tongue lapping at them, felt those nipples tugged deeper into a warm, wet mouth, that would confirm his desire to convert! Once he feels that much he'll want breasts that are larger still, and when he has them he'll accept whatever manner of dress and whatever sexual practices are most likely to attract even more mouths. He'll want to be the girl he's becoming! So why not prepare him in advance? "Frankly," I said. "I'd love knowing that you're shaped a little more like me, and dress a little more the way I dress. That underneath we share the same marvelous secrets. Above all the same pair of secrets. Wouldn't you love that too?" I made myself look eager, so Tim wouldn't want to disappoint me and disavow all such desires. He didn't.. Instead, no response at all. His lips kept working on my boobs, first on one and then the other, and they felt marvelous all the way down to my cunt lips, which were by now soaking themselves. He'd suck me there next, drink up some of those juices. My own, for once. Better not let him until I've reloaded myself. "We'll can dress alike now and then," I went on, then waited a moment for that thought to sink in. Then continued with enthusiasm, "Not just as a gesture of respect for my desires. For yours too! Surely you've wondered what it's like! Mornings when you've seen me clip on my bra, you must have let your imagination roam, wondered how it must feel to be embraced all day by such close-fitting femininity, such satin and lace. To feel gathered and shaped, thrust up and hugged by something so lovely, so distinctly girly. So sexy! To feel a woman's intimate garment on your own body, as close to you as any woman can ever be. To feel the way mine lifts me up, holds me. Imagine feeling lifted up and held like that! All day, day after day!" 'Why not say it?' I thought to myself. 'Go the distance and deal with whatever the fallout, if any!' So I added, "Week after week! Even longer! For the rest of your life maybe! Our lives! I'm sure you've wondered from time to time how it feels to be me. Why not try it? Why not be me?" That might be a whole new idea for him. Now it was a planted seed, anyhow. "Hmmmmm!" he said, muttering the universal sound implying he was considering it, but without removing his mouth from my tit. He'd probably decided I was merely being playful, idly daydreaming. Best not let him dwell on that notion. He hadn't said 'No!' so I could seem to assume -- except that his mouth was so busy -- that he meant to say 'Yes!' "Here then!" I said. "Lift up for just a moment and put this on!" I held out the same bra I'd just been wearing and had set to one side as we'd mounted the bed and he'd mounted me and sunk his tongue into my pussy to slosh out and swallow up Andy's spunk, then pushed his own penis into me, slid around inside for a moment, then cum, and then, as always when a bit embarrassed by his speed, swallowed one of my breasts. "Try it," I urged. "Let's see!" He lifted his head from my chest. "Don't be silly!" he said. He thought I was joking! He grinned! But his eyes looked slightly worried, weighing an odd chance that I wasn't joking. Or that I'd guessed something about his secret fantasies? I certainly wasn't joking. Not now. "For me?" I said, lowering my head, my eyes looking up at him seductively. Playfully. As if playfully, but insistently, in a low, seductive voice. "For me, Tim? Just this once, sweetie?" He hesitated. I thrust the bra at him again, and when it touched his hand I began to smile broadly as though he'd accepted my suggestion. At last his hand closed on it. I knew then that no matter what, he'd never want to disappoint me. I closed his fingers around it, sighed deeply, and kissed the top of his head as he looked at me now, bewildered, my aroused nipple now resting on his cheek. "Kiss my boobs, each of them, to show me how you respect breasts. How you desire them, love them! Then put this on so I can kiss yours," I whispered as if passionately. "So we can respect each other's breasts!" "Yours are bigger!" he said, following my lead, stating a simple-minded truth while still thinking I was being playful. Perfect. He was already thinking that his and mine were the same things except for their sizes. "Yes, you poor dear!" was my only response. They don't have to be, was my next thought, but I didn't dare utter it just yet, it might spook him altogether! In due time. "One of us is deprived. But we can make up for it!" Let him figure out what that means! I leaned down and kissed the tip of his still-flat chest, trying to curl my tongue around his little nipple. It stood up, pitiably small, the poor thing! "Just lovely," I muttered as I settled in on one as if it were an abundant, generous mountain, and began giving it the full treatment, lips and tongue and mouth. I shaped it with both hands as I sucked on him, and he pushed his chest up into my mouth for more after a moment. Blissfully, it seemed! "Ahhhhh!" he sighed. Yes, blissfully! Wonderful, they create for him something of the same delicious sensations mine do for me! So I renewed my efforts, and noticed that his cock, gone slack from our earlier exercises, was recovering. It began to turn turgid, swell up again. On to his other nipple! 'His breasts really are like mine, I'll have him in full lingerie and lipstick by the end of next week,' was what I was thinking. I began picturing his eyes surrounded by dark black liner, eyelids mysteriously shadowed, half-closed, inviting, and I almost orgasmed then and there myself! But all I said to him was, "You need to show these marvelous things off, at least to me!" "'At least'? Don't you mean 'at most'?" he asked. He was worried I might not be joking, but he knew what I meant. I knew how he felt, I was once a shy adolescent myself. I slurped up some of the skin surrounding his other nipple and flicked my tongue across its tip as it too erected, and then my lips held it firm in my mouth. "Oh, God!" he cried out. Each of his breast tips was now slick and wet and aroused. It was like sucking teeny cocks! My lovely man's teeny cocks! Oh, God, I love this! was my thought, and I bent to the task passionately! Reached for his actual cock, stroked it! "Oh, God!" he cried out again. My sentiment exactly. I didn't dare blow him, he'd cum fast as always, and that would diminish his erotic zeal. I wanted to keep him in a steady state of desiring, begging. Also, if he then kissed me, his sperm fresh on my lips, he might correctly identify the similarly pungent flavor he'd been tasting on my mouth and pussy for months now. I did intend to suck him to climax, as in our early days. But not now. Not until we were more like girlfriends who share everything -- and as I imagined him that way, as my girlfriend, wearing delicate lingerie, his face beautifully made up, I almost orgasmed! No, not now! So I licked his nipples and caressed and tugged on his penis until it spurted into my hand. Then I carefully kissed his mouth. Despite all of his drooling attention to my tits, his face still tasted of ... yes, Andy! It was Andy who'd overflowed my pussy with jism just before I came home. My loving Tim had filled his mouth with Andy unawares. Yes! My man, my soon to be girly-man, soon he'll taste all my men at first hand! Maybe even with a cock in each hand! Maybe I can arrange something like that for each of us! I glanced at the bra I'd just handed him, still hanging from his fingers, a pretty underwire and satin concoction, delicate but tough enough to hold him firm in its cups. "Sit up, baby," I said in the voice I use when I do not want him to contradict me. Ever. He recognized it. "Now, this is your bra. You'll put it on every morning from now on, for me, and take it off again every night at bedtime, and we'll get you others for when it's in the wash. For me, but you'll soon realize it's really for you! These cups are B sized, my size, but the underwiring'll gather up everything you've got and fill them. No padding, that would block your pleasure when I feel you up. We'll hope your body learns to make more tissue in due course -- twice the size is twice the pleasure." It would make more, and when it happened he could attribute that growth to the bras. In fact I'll encourage faster growth, I decided, by sprinkling powdered hormones over his breakfast cereal in addition to feeding him the pills and finding new reasons for him to get shots. Yes! I will! Though eventually Tim will improve his figure his own ways, administering his own pills and engaging in selective exercises.. "As I said, we won't fill the cups with padding or give you foam rubber boobs," I went on. "That would defeat the purpose, which is to encourage you to fill them on your own and feel more and more pleasure as they enlarge. I want you to want them, to enjoy your beautiful breasts the way I enjoy mine! So I can enjoy yours too!" I smirked slightly as I thought but didn't say 'And others can also enjoy them!' meaning not other women but other men. When Tim has a woman's shape, all of my men will be as eager to please him as they are me. I was sure of it! I'd see to it! Tim looked away, suppressing a snort, but at least I'd put 'twice the size is twice the pleasure' into his head. He'd learn. He'd get accustomed. I showed him how to hook the band in front, turn it, slip the straps onto his shoulders, then reach inside to pull himself up into the two cups. "The same way you tuck your balls into your jock strop," I added, so he'd feel the gesture was at least a little familiar, maybe even a manly upper body equivalent. "LIft and drop." Soon his slack skin and chest muscles were enclosed in those two containers. They did bulge out slightly, as breasts should. Well, all in good time. I reached for his little nubby nipples, now quite hard and poking out visibly under the satin cups, and I touched each one. I suspected they'd be like mine -- when mine are held up and projecting out they feel incredibly erogenous. They were! Tim's were! He gave a sudden girlish exhale, virtually a squeal, as I caressed first one, then the other. 'You're gorgeous!" I told him. "So very sexy! Don't you feel more sexy? Push them out and be proud of them!" He did! He was! He thrust his chest out and they bulged from him! "Oh, God!" he exclaimed, quavering. "Tell me you love them!" If anything, I sounded stern, severe. Intimidated, he tried to reassure me. "I do love them!" he said, looking both puzzled and hopeful. Now I knew, if only for my sake he'd wear his bras devotedly! We settled in to hug and kiss each other. Then I mounted his again-rock- hard, erect, already throbbing prick, and marvelously but as expected he pulsed inside me almost at once. I'd barely contained him when he let loose -- he was that turned on? No problem, he was mine! In a few more months, various men would be pulsing into him and he'd be squirming with joy, free to cum as early and often as he could! My heart felt near-bursting with pride and love! ************ Time to move on, I was thinking. "It's been a couple of months now, honeybun. I've been licking and sucking and fondling your wonderful titties for months, especially when I ride you cowgirl. They've been growing and you've been protecting and shaping them the whole time with my spare bras, and a few of your own too. You know now how much more comfortable they feel in bras, that they need the support! It's wonderful how they sag so beautifully in your nightgowns, and I know they feel more marvelous each time I touch them or suckle them. You know that too, whenever you touch them, and you do often, I've seen you -- you already know the pleasure, the privilege, having boobs and putting on a bra each morning, nurturing what every woman is proud to know are her own! Don't they feel marvelous? Don't you feel closer to me for having them?" He no longer looked embarrassed when I asked him such questions. Instead, I was amused to notice, he seemed to be reassuring me! "Yes, I do, I've got to confess it. This ... band around my chest makes my ... well, my breasts, they seem very special now. Almost like yours. A lot more sensitive than they were. Maybe how your breasts feel when I nurse on them? I've always loved licking up your pussy juices, and now this gives me a whole new way to feel close to you." Most of my 'pussy juices' were of course other men's cock juices, their thick cum mixed with mine. How very promising that he loves the feel and flavor, I was thinking. But more promising was his reference to his "breasts" -- that he sported "breasts." They hadn't begun really heavy growth, not yet, but their soft tissue already padded his pectoral muscles, and a hard lump behind each areola poked at my fingers and lips. The total mass filled his B cups. I'd once caught him caressing them blissfully, eyes closed, and I'd silently backed away as he reached to begin masturbating with one hand while fondling a booby with the other. I felt so warm toward him just then! It was so satisfying to know that we both love our boobies! "I love it, when you suckle my breasts!" I confessed. "And I love suckling yours! Aren't you glad you have them?" "Yes," he answered simply. Then, remarkably, "Especially when your mouth is on them. I never dreamed they were so .... But ... now I know why women .... " He grinned. "I can feel why, I mean!" Wonderful! Hooked and helpless! "Aren't you also glad to be taking girl pills?" I asked, standing up, twirling my hips a bit flirtatiously. "Didn't I tell you your boobies would soon grow more responsive to our lips and fingertips, yours and mine both?" He nodded, looking at me a bit yearningly. I'd told him they were pills girls take to feel more confident about themselves. But they weren't just 'girl pills.' The pills Margot had given me were the heavy duty kind taken by young girls with severe hormonal deficiencies to assure their proper development into young women, and by transsexuals with boys' bodies who want girls' bodies. "Very heavy duty," she'd told me. "You'll notice another effect too. They'll make him less aggressive, if he ever was. A bit more compliant." She said this with a conspiratorial smile. "If he was already sweet, concerned for you and all, he'll get to be much moreso. These pills cut way back on testosterone production, you know? His balls will shrivel, so there'll be less to hide when he slips into his bikini bottoms, and nothing to ruin his crotch in tight jeans. Then after a while there'll be a lot more for him to hide in his tops. He'll get less aggressive, more accommodating, much more likely to do your bidding. Eventually maybe even some special man's bidding!" She'd grinned at me, and I suddenly recalled that a month or so ago she'd mentioned that her own husband -- a few years back she'd married a man 'for show' as she'd said -- had changed his last name to hers. I hadn't yet asked her about it, but now I suspected why. As Tim took his hormones he did become more suggestible. I hoped that when he was liberated from mere manhood, when his erections failed altogether, he'd be enjoying so many feminine intimacies he'd not miss them. In another month or two I wanted to see him sucking Wayne's cock -- I'd decided on Wayne's, because Wayne's was only average in size, and Wayne was himself unthreatening, modest, sometimes even effeminate. Maybe I could pretend Wayne was a professional escort I was paying to teach Tim at first hand how to fit a cock inside a girl's mouth? Then the next day I could introduce him to Bill's cock, so he'd begin to know what all girls soon know, how every man is a bit different, each with cocks that feel different and cum that tastes different. Tim could begin to learn how to discriminate among love juices, how to especially, gratefully appreciate the better-tasting kinds. Even appreciate how for years I haven't been deceiving him with other men, I've been sharing them with him. Once he'd enjoyed both men, I'd have less problem persuading him to get a woman's basic makeup tattoo'd on his face -- minimally, eyebrows, eyeliner, and lips. It'd save bother later, when he's preparing himself for dates with still other men. But mainly it'd eliminate any chance of his backsliding, chickening out of his new role in life. "You love growing your boobies," I added. "I know, I've seen you with them!" A short while ago he'd seemed ashamed when I caught him fingering his nip tips. I'd told him then that he should feel proud! And now he was! "Yes, I do love them, " he replied. "Though it does seem odd, my taking those birth control pills. A waste! I couldn't get pregnant even if I screwed myself!" True several ways! How little he knew about their collateral advantages! "They help your boobies fill your bras," I reminded him. He now had five bras in his underwear drawer. And matching panties, naturally. And to help hide their lacy displays beneath his plain broadcloth dress shirts, I'd gotten him a variety of chemises and slips -- some lace edged, easily seen through broadcloth, but he never noticed. "When you have larger breasts, you'll feel more joy whenever I play with them," I added. "Twice as large provides twice the joy! You know that's true, now, don't you?" It wasn't, but that didn't matter! "I suppose I do ... yes, they're wonderful even now, but ...." I batted my baby blues at him, thinking how that seemed true for cocks too, no matter which side of the cock you were on. "When they're twice as large as now, you'll get twice the pleasure," I told him again. Let him accept bigger boobs as a desirable fact! "Same as I do when you play with mine. That's only fair. So here, sweetie. Open up. From now on, now that your body's gotten accustomed and you're no longer queasy with morning sickness, you can take twice the doses of girl pills. Then feel twice the pleasure twice as fast!" He didn't resist! Not at all! He actually opened his mouth like a big birdie. Then when he'd gulped a double dose down with a swallow of water, I kissed his lips. The lasering away of his beard two weeks earlier had taken only a single day, and the skin on his face now felt as smooth and soft against my cheeks as my own. Moreover, his aroma was heavenly, scented by the various softening face creams he used every evening as well as the cologne I'd bought him. He was no longer self- conscious about dainty odors, so I'd begun buying him the most feminine, seductive perfumes I could find, and he'd begun using them without noticing how people he passed in the street paused to look back at him! A delicate scent, yet he looked like a man? Yes, my perfect darling was getting moreso! We'd also begun playing with makeup, Tim helping me pretend I could look like a sultry vamp or a sweet country lass, a fresh-faced high school girl or a professional sex worker, allowing me to apply those same styles and effects on his face before I tried them on mine. Or practicing on my face and then on his. He was amazed to see how persuasive the results could be. I'd managed to take him downtown fully made up several times, to prove that no way did he look odd or inappropriate. To assure his disguise, he'd of course also rearranged his hair and worn one of my tight sweaters, allowing his chest to declare what he was unequivocally becoming. A man in a bar actually spoke to him, and he'd turned toward me utterly flustered, embarrassed! At the end of these excursions, still giggling together, I'd kiss his chin and his blush flushed cheeks, and his mysteriously darkened, shadowy eyelids, and we'd make love as if we were two women. No wham, bam now! Our tongues touched and caressed and stroked each other's genitals and we'd each orgasm beautifully! "My lovely sweetheart!" I muttered one time in a soft, amorous voice, as I rubbed his cock. "Your clit is so big my tongue can't lick it all at once, the way your tongue licks mine" I'd also begun licking the skin behind his balls as if there were a cunt there, always whenever his tongue was licking the day's accumulations out of my cunt. He seemed not to notice, when I stopped calling him "my sweet girlie man" and said merely, "my sweet girlie." Eventually, I knew, he's accept my suggestion that he live as if a girl full time. As his two boobs did already. ************** "Sweetie, I've been meaning to mention it, but it's time for us to go shopping again. Your breasts bulge out of my bras. You aren't a B cup like me any more, you need a C cup, and I suspect you'll be more comfortable if all your bras were 38s, so you'd no longer stretch out my 36s. Let's go get you measured and re-fitted and buy you all your very own this time. And some other things too?" "Honey, what do you want? I'm now wearing your kinds of clothes full time. My dress shirts won't button any more, so I've had to shift over to women's shirts, as you suggested. The plain 'man-tailored' kind -- they button the wrong way but at least there's room in them for my new breasts." Good, he'd was learning! As they'd grown it had been "these things on my chest" but now they were "my new breasts." He'd accepted them as parts of himself. And each time I kissed and caressed them he became more and more accepting! "You could be wearing my more decorated shirts too," I said, as if I were being merely informative. "Or flowered blouses I've seen advertised -- I suspect they'd also fit you far more comfortably. Let's try some!" "They certainly attract more attention, these boobs!" he replied uneasily. "They push out and hang off my chest these days even when I'm bare chested. And my butt has reshaped itself too! I have to admit, I feel much better in the tight-fitted pants you've bought me than in my own slacks. It does seem I'm now committed to the kinds of clothes they make for women's bodies. Luckily, now that I've set up to work at home on contract jobs only, no one needs to see me any more who knows I was once a man. No one knows I'm not entitled to wear these clothes. But ...." I was delighted to hear that he was 'once a man,' now no longer a man in his own eyes! True too, his ass was now visible to all in his tailored slacks, and it rolled enticingly whenever he walked poised, thighs touching. But all I said was, "If you have a woman's shape, you're entitled to display it, Tim! And your breasts are gorgeous -- you should feel proud to display them! I won't allow you to demean them, you know how much pleasure they give both of us!" I paused to give him time to remember our session of only this morning, our licking and nursing on each other as if equals, sucking each other, devouring each other, in a session devoted to our breasts and our crotches alike. Then I went on without a change of tone. "You really should display them. Share them! You know full well how gorgeous they look when you're wearing a proper bra, especially with an open neckline revealing your deep cleft. They are so very seductive! They certainly seduce you, don't they? I've seen you looking at them in the mirror while your weenie grows an erection, or what passes for an erection these days! They look so proud jutting out! Especially now that you're learning to walk in heels, so your hips and your bust weave and thrust with each step! That's when I feel most proud of both yours and mine!" Just yesterday morning when I awakened I'd found him lying blissfully beside me in his satin nightie, eyes closed, cum puddled on his belly, still massaging both nipples. So I'd bent over those boobs and sucked on each in turn. Which freed his hands to stroke himself off yet again before finally rising to greet the day. His cock rose rarely these days. Not often, anyhow. "You know," I added, since he'd raised the subject. "You need to get out more, meet more people. Since you can't look like a man any more, commit to looking like a woman altogether all the time! Adopt all of a woman's mannerisms. Grasp all of a woman's prerogatives too, including those relating to men. Be your new self full time! I've seen how you stare at your breasts each morning before and after you put on your bra. And how you can't keep your hands off them. Really! You do need to learn more restraint, to behave more ladylike in public, if you hope to work for my company!" I'd arranged for my firm to take him on as a receptionist, his first gainful employment as a woman, just as soon as he seemed ready. I assumed that would be a one way trip, because he'd then have to develop a maximum concern for his appearance, making sure that his gestures and voice were especially pleasing to our male clientele. He'd have few responsibilities other than those -- a receptionist's main task is to impress, if possible to initiate the seduction of suppliers, customers, and potential clients. To charm the world to the firm's advantage. But subtly, to accomplish this with only slight movements and a lilting, welcoming voice, so everyone feels special but remains unaware. He didn't even pause to consider what I'd said. Instead, he allowed his practical fears to speak for him. "Honey," he said. "I agree that nowadays the clothes you've gotten me, especially the skirts and dresses, they all fit me more comfortably than my old clothes -- my body's changed, so that's that. I love it, if only because they make it a lot easier for your hands and those dildos and butt plugs of yours to get access to my ass, and your head to get access to my cock! I admit it, I love how they all feel on me, even the lingerie, just as you'd said they would. And I love the elastic waistlines on my slacks and skirts and panties and so on -- on impulse either of us can pull down whatever I'm wearing and not be bothered with hooks or buttons or belts, and we can fuck or you can fuck with me almost on impulse. I agreed to all that weeks ago when you packed away my men's stuff to make room for my "play clothes," as you call this girl stuff. Maybe now we should just call them my work clothes, since that's what you want me to try being at your place? OK, I dress like a girl all the time now, and I look like one, at least to my mirror, and I grant you I'm not bad looking! I could easily fall for myself these days, if I met me." He paused and flashed a quick grin. Then he said seriously, earnestly, "I especially appreciate that you're more loving toward me than ever before, these days!" That moved me! I certainly was! "I certainly want to be," I got in edgewise, choking up a little. "But honey? Go out dressed this way all the time? Commit to it? Strip down to be fitted for new bras by a saleswoman? Expose my ... odd shape, odd for a man, I mean?" I resisted comment on how silly that whole statement sounded. "Not odd for what you look like now, honey! These days no one would mistake you for a man! Not any more! And quite simply, you do need new bras! Those boobs of yours are getting larger and larger and plainly, they need more support! You don't want them to sag further, do you? Or bobble obscenely every time you stand up or sit down? I'd feel devastated if mine started getting floppy!" These days he often came in his panties when I sucked on his tits. He played with them all the time, even when he was supposed to be working on contracted projects. The joy they provided justified all his other bodily changes, he'd confided to me, the smoothing down of his skin and the softening of his face, the broadening of his hips and the rounding out of curves in other places. He didn't seem to mind that his cock no longer got ramrod stiff -- he could still sort of gather it into my pussy on the odd days I made my slit available to it, not merely to his mouth. As I did especially when my men were unavailable and I needed something to fill me, not merely lick me. He no longer came too fast, that much can be said for a slack cock. I'd begun wondering which of my guys should push into his ass first. Derek, I'd about decided. He's bi, so he won't mind rubbing up against Tim's genitals if he notices what's left of them -- those hormones really had shrunk them! Yes! Tim'll love Derek's dick at first sight - - it's slim despite its incredible length, so it won't seem a threat. Derry loves pushing it into my ass as much as he loves using my cunt, so Tim's virgin ass will seem a special treat. For both of them! "It's time," I pointed out to Tim. "You have a great body now, and your face is charming. It's selfish of me not to share you. We'll go out and get your hair and nails done professionally, and then maybe go clubbing somewhere. Maybe dance with a few guys?" I gave him a wicked, conspiratorial look, so that idea wouldn't seem threatening. "Are you sure? People sometimes look at me and decide that I'm queer! Like the last time I went to the pharmacy to refill my prescriptions!" "No one thought you were queer! The pharmacist addressed you as 'Ma'am' in fact, and quite respectfully! He looked close at you because you're a rather beautiful woman! Who wouldn't?" How else address my husband these days? How else would anyone address someone with a lovely face and long hair and full makeup, above all with large, jutting breasts, wearing a blouse and skirt and heels and getting a prescription filled for women's hormones? My darling husband was now a woman. True, he still sometimes walked like a man, legs apart instead of each foot in front of the other, thighs decently closed. But never when he was in heels. Then he mostly took short steps that seemed tentative, even maidenly. The rest was a matter of rehabituation. I inspected his gentle features carefully. Yes! There was now no mistaking him for a man! We could begin! Completing his conversion turned out easier than expected! I sent him to a 'modeling school' for a two week short course, and accompanied him to be sure things went as planned. They did. He learned more feminine movements from experts, and I picked up a few seductive moves myself that might some day prove useful. Two weeks later my darling man was walking with grace and delicacy, hands draped, feet set down daintily, hips weaving, ass waving at whoever was behind him watching. As often some man was. Regardless of his attire, he attracted attention wherever he went. I felt so proud! And he did begin work as a receptionist, then learned to socialize with some of the other secretaries and receptionists. A mere few weeks later, on his own initiative he'd accumulated a whole closet full of new, attractive, slightly suggestive dresses and business skirts, and 'my new friends' had taught him their appropriate occasions and uses. His hairdo and makeup were no longer an issue -- after his third weekly appointment at the salon he tended both mindlessly each morning, and he always emerged for breakfast looking impeccably lovely. Our breakfast chat settled somehow into talk about other girls in the firm, their clothes, boyfriends, marital issues, and infidelities -- girl gossip! Especially marvelous was his appearance at the Sunflower Formal, a fundraising dance attended by the whole town's elite -- I consider it the ceremony marking his graduation into womanhood. Without my prompting him he wore his most stunning long gown, the one most revealing of his breastline. He put his hair up, added dark, dramatic eyeshadow, and chose a matching silver chain necklace, earrings, and thin bracelet. I felt so incredibly proud of him! More men asked him to dance than asked me! Of course they had no idea, to everyone he was the girl I'd been living with ever since my husband found out how many men were dating me and had left me. Many younger men in my company could guess at a few of my dates, because they were the dates! But even our neighbors assumed that we were close girlfriends! Even Tim began to believe it, once I introduced him to my arrays of sex toys and he learned to use them, to enjoy them as any woman might, as women do. I also introduced him to my women's magazines, and his interests and conversation gradually warped over from sports to styles, his browsing from war games to cooking. Some evenings, heading out to get laid by one of my menagerie, I almost regretted leaving him. But one day, while I was moving a strap-on deep in and out of his rump and fondling a rock-hard nipple while supporting his tits in my palms, he gave a long sigh and wished we could do this every night. Then he asked me what I did all those nights I'm called away for "consultations" of various kinds. I decided it was time he knew. Time I shared everything with my beloved! Past time! I called Derek, wondering if he was free to meet us at La Salle Champagne for dinner. He was, so I explained that there was this ... girl I wanted him to meet, the three of us would go home afterward, but that I'd be called away for an emergency soon after. He understood. Then as I put down the phone I smiled and considered how -- after this long journey -- my darling hubby had at last arrived. How I no longer felt guilty about my extracurricular affairs, fearful of exposure. Not even uneasy. How we'd soon be getting laid together, maybe even side by side! *********** And so we were, eventually. His first time with Derek came off as I'd hoped, and he couldn't stop talking about it! 'You were right, honey. Warm flesh, it feels marvelous inside you, when you're containing all of it, feeling all that power and strength moving in and out of your ass. Incredible! You know, a live cock feels way better than those stiff dildos you stuff into me now and then! Even when I was sucking him back to life, back to that incredible rock-like stiffy he got even a third time, I felt proud I could do that to a man! And God how he worshipped my tits -- he couldn't quit sucking on them and manhandling them! I adored it! In an odd way, his hands on my tits were what first woke my desire, my craving really, to feel his hot cock in my ass, inside me! I guess that's how lots of women come to desire men." I nodded. It was. His responses were so satisfying! So ... womanly! "When I told him that access to my pussy was problematic he suggested we fuck anally instead, and I answered him 'Yes! Yes!' Then each time he slipped it into me again, the second time, when I was already slick and slippery back there, and then the third ... Oh, honey, baby, do you know any more men like Derry?" Oh, God, I was thinking. Wonderful! I do! My darling companion! It was morning, and here he was lying awake next to me, his salmon colored babydoll still pulled up to his waist, one strap askew, his panties still on the floor, a pillow still under his ass, his basic permanent makeup intact. He looked like a ruined doll -- Derry had actually done him four times, the first time in his mouth and the others deep in his ass! Then he'd quietly left the house at daybreak, and the cum now leaking from my darling's lower opening had soaked through the bedsheets. I hoped not too deep into his pillow or the mattress. But Tim didn't seem to notice or care. "Men like Derry? Well, yes, there's Adam and there's Jason. I've already arranged it. They're our double dates for tonight -- Adam is yours and Jason is mine." Adam understood he'd be doing me a favor by taking care of Tim -- who was now 'Tammy' to everyone. I'd told Adam that 'Tammy' was a lovely out-of-towner who keeps her cunt only for her husband, but once safely away from home can be persuaded to make her rear available. "Very available," I said. I noticed that Adam's eyes gleamed. "You mean, repeatedly available?" he asked, and I replied immediately, "Of course!" I then told Adam I'd be getting fucked nearby by Jason, so he'd do me a favor if he kept Tammy too busy to wonder about me. "OK," he said. "You mean the Jason who was at that orgy we had last year? Where you pulled a train? The guy with the tower between his legs?" "Yes," I replied. "That Jason." I hadn't wanted Tammy to see me screwing another man until she'd been altogether reamed out himself. Herself. Now she'd been. Adam could be dense, his mental processes as slow and thick as his own cock. But he understood enough. He'd do Tammy well. I needn't have worried. Derek had already stretched Tim's ass wide open, fucking him first missionary, then doggie, then at Tim's own suggestion as a cowgirl. He'd gotten Tim shrieking to the heavens, especially when Tim climaxed, though I knew that had more to do with Derry's equal attention to Tim's breasts, those two thumbs relentlessly stroking their tips when his tongue wasn't flicking across them, all the while his cock was pistoning in and out of Tim's hole. "It felt so delicious," Tim had explained to me afterward. "It feels comfy when you've stuck a dildo or butt plug inside me, but ... this time I felt eager! Needy! My rear is now a little like my boobs, a little makes me yearn for lots more!" "Lots more?" I asked him, as if eager for him to share more with me girl to girl. "Lots?" "Oh, honey, all that meat inside me, moving? Constantly opening me and closing me, stretching me full and emptying me out? Heaven? Oh, God, heaven! How did you ever settle for just me? My ass now gets almost as excited as my boobs! Give it a little and I want more! And more, and more!" He was now swinging across the room, hips swaying, looking back at me with a wicked smile, his beautifully rounded rear rotating as if there were already a cock in it burrowing deeper. My sweet Tim, explaining to his own wife about the pleasures of fucking men! Imagine! "When you and Adam are done," I told my now-seductive Tammy. "When he's finished fucking you and you're feeling fully feminine, altogether a woman, I want you to let him nurse on you, suck on your marvelous boobs while you lie wrapped in each other's arms. I want you to feel ecstatically happy." Then I took the risk. It was time he knew. "I'll be in the next bed, watching," I added. "Now and then watching." As I said it I kept caressing those marvelous boobs of his, those fantastic pinnacles that gave him such pleasure and gave me such ultimate power over him. I wasn't sure he'd registered that we were both getting fucked tonight. That soon we'd both be sharing a woman's joys! Oh God...! "You and another man?" he queried in a subdued voice He obviously didn't want to think about it. To know. "I think we'll both learn things we'll adore knowing in the years ahead," was all I replied. I expected to learn nothing I didn't already know, but I've never objected to reviewing before a test. "Name of Jason," I added. "You know him. Tasted him already, same as Derek and Adam. All three have exceptionally good taste. He looked at me and I saw he'd caught on. Eyes narrowed, she'd caught on! "We have 'years ahead' you say?" was all she asked. "Of course! I'll never leave you sweetheart!" "Oh!" he said. "All right, then." And added, "I've meant to tell you, incidentally, that mauve blouse looks marvelous on you." "Thank you," I replied as if mindlessly. He'd accepted my fucking various other men! "Now that my weight's down I can go sleeveless again!" I suddenly realized this was girl talk. That Tim really was Tammy now, 'she' was who she