Wedded Bliss
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Wedded Bliss: Four Short Stories free porn video
Wedded Bliss: Four Short Stories
by Vickie Tern
1. Her Girl
"Oh, you look so very sweet, baby," my wife said, her fingers reaching
through my gown and twiddling my nipples and sending ripples of erotic
desire through me. "You're a perfect doll! My perfect doll! Now
confess, it wasn't that bad, sitting there fully dressed, watching me
make love to him, was it? I felt so marvelous with that huge thing of
his in me, you have no idea yet how it can feel, especially the way he
started gently but then got rough. I do so love it -- it always seems so
wicked, but with you there watching it, feeling just a little bit
jealous
I hope, it seems so deliciously wicked! Jealous of me, not him, I mean!
He makes a body come so quickly! But now here we are, together again,
alone with each other. So open wide, honey!"
She threw one leg over me and hugged my head beween both of her thighs,
then slowly lowered her oozing slit onto my face. As my nose entered her
she gave a great "Ahhhh!" and began to rub her pussy lips against mine.
My tongue then followed, entering her cunt and her rear alternately. She
slowly tensed up while I licked and swallowed the cum dribbling out of
her, and then she gyrated furiously, spasmodically, and orgasmed yet
again in a series of tense gasps, cum this time pouring out-- I could
barely swallow fast enough! Then said, as she quieted down and recovered
her breath, "That was the best ever! We'll do this more and more often
now, won't we? Won't we?"
She seemed so desperate, so pleading, that I nodded slightly. I was
pleased that she was so happy, though there was a vacant place somewhere
inside me. I hadn't wanted to let my wife get that intimate with another
man while I watched, nor to seal my approval by afterward kissing and
swallowing everything he had left inside her. But she'd seemed so eager,
so desperate to know that I was sharing the whole experience with her.
I
couldn't deny her. I'd done everything she asked, and now here we were.
"You're so beautiful!" she breathed. "I want you to stay just this way
the whole week we're here!" She laughed. "No, sweetheart, I don't mean
under my bottom with your face slick with sperm, though I can't object to
a few more sessions like this last one, and we will have a few more. I
mean I want you to continue as what you are now, to remain my gorgeous
girlfriend. For the whole week we're here. It's so wonderful, this new
relationship we've got! We have so many new things to share with each
other, and I'm so eager to begin! I'll teach you everything you need to
know, and you'll find there's a whole world out there, and ... well,
it'll be perfect!"
I couldn't say 'no.' I'd promised her that during this vacation, unlike
the last one, we'd do whatever she wanted. She'd determine everything,
no matter what! She'd made me repeat "No matter what" three times to
reassure her as she stared at me, and finally she'd believed me. So I
had no choice. I'd spent four hours in a salon earlier today being
altogether remade so, when she met with this new boyfriend. I could stay
and watch them. She'd feel more safe, and I was easily explained away as
a girlfriend who'd heard me praise him and was looking for new things to
try with her own men. Looking like a girl now, no way resembling a
husband, my presence wouldn't distract him. He might even perform more
sensationally with her if he was aware of me as an audience.
He did. I gave another slight nod and swallowed again, and tried to
catch my breath.
"He'll be back for more in a few hours, and this time he's bringing
someone for you too. He told me he knows just the right guy. A really
sweet boy who knows how to appreciate a really sweet, relatively innocent
girl like you. Who can teach you things. You'll learn how to please
him, and I do want to see all of it, especially how he feels the first
time you take him into your marvelous mouth. So now you'll make yourself
especially pretty, and dress nicely again. Then we'll double date and
you'll be my dearest girlfriend yet again and love it, and you won't want
to change back ever. Not ever!"
She watched me closely. I nodded vaguely again, my nose now only bobbing
into her wet pussy.
"Perfect! Tomorrow I'll call that office of yours and let them know
you're not coming back. Then I'll call Irma to tell her you've
accepted her offer. You'll love working with the other women in Irma's
Salon. I just know it!"
I nodded, and finished sucking up the last dregs of cum from her crotch.
"Now we can sleep."
Her knee lifted and my face dislodged, and as I lay there wondering if I
could now reverse my body to lie alongside hers, I felt her breathing
grow deep and regular. She was already asleep. So I kissed her pussy
one more time, turned my body rightside, and pressed my breasts against
hers. She'd insisted I call them that, that I get used to the idea. 'You
never know, I bet you'll love them!' she'd said in order to ease my
uncertainty a few weeks after she'd started feeding me those pills and my
chest had begun to soften.
She was right. I could get used to working for Irma, with her other
attendants. Irma's establishment was established years ago for women,
but also for men. For women as a beauty parlor and for men as a place
where they too can find the kinds of satisfaction women can provide.
There were always far more "assistants" and private rooms in that shop
than beauticians, and far more sexually provocative ladies than there
were chairs, I'd notice whenever I dropped my wife off. Which would I
end up as? I had no idea yet.
I wriggled in anticipation, luxuriating in my silk nightie, and then I
too fell asleep.
(c) 2017 by Vickie Tern
2.
Femininity
She seemed easy enough about it, relaxed, speaking pleasantly enough,
leaning back from the dinner table, our desert just finished and coffee
poured. But her voice was firm and decisive, its tone fixed and
unyielding. "Well, let's see if I understand what you've just told me.
You've been unfaithful to me many times since our marriage, and you feel
you must finally confess your infidelities, and you've now done so. All
because of what you call women's irresistible appeal, your love of all
things feminine. You say you feel driven to be close, intimate with
women who radiate that femininity. That some of us seem drenched in it.
You say when you're close to such women you can't help yourself, it's an
overwhelming urge, you yield, you melt into them. So you're frequently
unfaithful to me with them. And have been for some years. You say the
appeal hasn't diminished, you simply can't help it, and you expect it'll
go on and on. You want me to know about all this now, this phenomenon,
so it won't seem like you're merely cheating when I find you being
intimate with some other woman some time in the future, as must happen
eventually, inevitably. So I won't be shocked to discover your
adulteries and outright divorce you."
Sad, but all true. I'd decided to confess my many infidelities to her a
week ago, setting as a condition that she say and do nothing for a full
week. Requiring that she take plenty of time to absorb the implications.
I figured she'd make up her mind to leave me and then use the week to
prepare doing so, and I felt sad to think it. But then, maybe not? She
might yet accept me for what I am! I do love all things feminine!
And I simply can't help it, never could! From early childhood I've
thought that women were what I've always felt and found them ... utterly
gorgeous! Irresistible! Entrancing! I've always felt near-helpless in
their presence, almost enslaved! No more so than during this past week,
after I confessed my helplessness to my wife.
"Well, I've decided," she continued. "We'll stay married, and we'll
continue to live together. I wouldn't want it any other way. But not
quite as before. I'm going to let you continue having intimacies with
other women, as many as you wish. I'll encourage you into more of them,
in fact."
I was dumbfounded! Stared at her. She was looking directly at me, her
face firm but not grim. No suppressed rage visible, only serious
determination.
"That in fact will be a condition of our continuing to live together as a
married couple. That you devote all of your time from now on to things
that concern women, to cultivating your sense of the feminine and those
who seem to you to most exemplify it. That you soak yourself in all
things female, grow familiar with and learn to enjoy all the appropriate
ways females feel. That you pursue and fulfill whatever women may feel
and desire. Any woman. From now on."
Could I believe my ears? She wasn't divorcing me? Not casting me off,
pushing me away from her gorgeous body and beautiful mind and gentle
temperament, and the millions of dollars she'd recently inherited? I'd
expected at best to be bought off with a comfortable divorce settlement,
that as her way avoid scandal. Instead, we'll continue to live together?
As man and wife?
And did she just say I can continue trying to seduce any women who appeal
to me, as I've been doing all along lately? But openly, not secretly?
"From now on, any woman's desires are your desires," she added.
"What? How ...?" Now I was baffled. She was liberating me to please
other women? It made no sense.
She smiled, strangely pleased with herself, strangely confident. "Yes.
Because from this moment on you will live as a woman. Live as one of us
until the ways we think and feel and behave become a part of you and
mindlessly instinctive. Until you love feeling feminine the same ways we
all do, and you can't imagine yourself any other way. That much begins
now. In fact it began last week, when you decided to act on your own
desires and then informed me of them. Of course later on, if you find
you can't fulfill certain physical desires, can't gratify them but
nevertheless want to, we'll make whatever the necessary adjustments to
your body needed to enable you to function as a female in every respect.
But only if you feel it's desirable or necessary. "
"What do you mean?" was all I could get out.
"I mean, as you behave more and more like a woman, and your body soaks up
its new femininity and becomes softer, rounder, smoother, and so on,
you'll find your penis has turned useless. So if you still crave
genital sex you'll need a vagina. To exchange your cock for a cunt.
It's an easy enough operation these days, and I'm told you may well crave
it by then. No worries, though. None!"
She nodded reassuringly. "By then you'll have been so intimate with so
many vaginas that one of your own won't feel strange at all. You may
well want one. Girls do, you know!" She smiled wide.
I thought I was beginning to understand.
"Are you saying you want me to become intimate with femininity by living
as a girl? With other girls?"
She smiled. "Exactly, sweetheart! There's no geater intimacy available.
You'll not only live as a girl, you'll become one."
"No way!" She was out of her mind! Yes, I crave feminine intimacies, I
love women! Adore them, their aromas, the feel of their skin, their
yielding .... But to become feminine myself?
She meant it! "Oh, sweetie, you're well on the way! Just lean back and
notice how you're already feeling! The food you've been eating all week,
especially this evening. It's been soaked in female hormones, with a
few
powerful tranquillizers and other things added. That's why you've been
feeling peculiarly horny, but also comfortably passive. The way girls
feel and love feeling, especially once they've opened their legs and are
waiting for that stiff male thing to slide into them and complete them.
You've already swallowed enough to enjoy how you feel, and you already
want more, I'm sure! That's how I want you to feel!"
She was right. It did feel good, just sitting here listening to her.
Wearing the bra and panties she'd handed me earlier. They'd felt tight
earlier, even inappropriate, but now they felt snug and comfortable,
reassuring. Embracing, seducing me into even deeper feminine feelings.
"You'll continue to take all those pills daily," she said, a slight smile
on her face. Then looked into my face nodding. "But deliberately from
now on. And you'll visit our Gynecologist for shots once a week, every
week. In another few weeks I won't need to lock up your cock -- it won't
be going anywhere ever any more. But your breasts? Oh yes! They're
growing now, and we want them to look and feel prominent, foremost
wherever you may go. They'll need careful shaping by bras of exactly the
right size and kind as they fill in. You'll want them to feel full.
You'll want to get accustomed to your breasts leading the way, to
thrusting them out proudly. You'll want to be more of a girl than most
girls ever are, so you'll dress and present yourself that way always.
You've been craving femininity, lusting after it? Well, now you'll be
soaking in it! It'll be you! From now on I'm sharing my life with my
sweet girlfriend, not my unfaithful husband. And with my lover Scott, as
I have for several years now, ever since I first tumbled to the vast
extent of yourinfidelities."
She smiled. "So fix your lipstick, honey. Scott has a friend who wants
you just the way you are, who can appreciate how far your love of the
feminine has already carried you, who can to help you complete your
journey. Maybe even this very evening."
Of course I did as she asked. And it did feel lovely. More and moreso
in the months that followed. So did I.
(c) 2017 by Vickie Tern
3. Fucked!
We were just lying there together. I'd managed to cum in her incredible
cunt twice, and as asked, each time I'd then licked out everything she'd
exuded and I'd pumped into her. 'Recycling our passion' is what she'd
called it when I first proposed marriage to her, and she insisted on oral
cleanups after sex every time as an absolute condition before accepting
me. 'Returning our desire for each other to your belly, where you first
felt it!" She swallowed me only rarely.
At first it seemed yucky, but I didn't mind licking her any more. I'd
even begun to like it. The taste of our mixed juices varied, salty,
sour, citrus, but became acceptable, and I loved feeling her whole body
tense in orgasmic bliss while my face was still crammed into that
gorgeous crotch. And she always managed yet one more before finally I
could just lay there breathing hard, recovering. What can I say? l was
in love! Her happiness was mine!
Going down on her after our lovemaking was the first of three absolute
conditions she'd insisted on, my agreement essential before she'd marry
me. I had to agree to each and be habituated to each and learn to enjoy
each. I was now lying on her bed alongside her, my nylon nightgown
partially slipped off my shoulders though flared out generously below my
waist. I had to look pretty for her -- that was the second condition,
and I'd already met that one too. As always, I'd make myself up
carefully before we got into bed together. In fact, whenever we entered
our bedroom to make love, we now each habitually sat down at our makeup
tables and gazed into our mirrors and made ourselves beautiful, each for
the other. My makeup was now a mess, I knew, smeared and thoroughly
coated by our mingled body juices. Even my once-careful hairdo was stiff
or sticky. Have I mentioned that she loved pretending that we were not
really a man and a woman, but in fact two women, lesbian lovers? That
way, no matter how ardent our intimacies, she never felt promiscuous.
I had yet to learn what the third, most crucial condition would be. The
other two were now customary, familiar, and she'd promised to tell me the
third tonight. Tonight I'd find out what it was and respond
accordingly.
If I met that test we'd set the date. "Oh yes," she told me several
times. "Enjoy it. I need to know that you love how it feels. Then we
can be married."
"How what feels?" I'd asked her. "Making love to you?"
Her hands reached for each of my 'breasts,' each in their snug bra cups,
and began to caress my nipples. Delicately, with her fingertips. A
delicious, languorous ease flowed through me, as always! It felt ...
glorious!
"How what feels?" I asked again. If she meant this, being caressed, I
already knew the answer. Heavenly!
"Getting laid."
"Oh, I know well enough how that feels!" I smiled at her. I wanted to
kiss her, but I knew better. Not right now. Not with my cum-slick,
smeared lips. I could appreciate such kissing, but she didn't.
"Not you getting laid. Me! How I love getting laid. How it feels to be
penetrated repeatedly by someone who wants you to share his pleasure."
"And how can you arrange that?" She was such a romantic! It struck me
that her intentions were always generous however farfetched -- she
actually wanted me to know, to feel everything she feels! I started to
reach for her gratefully! Adoringly!
Suddenly I felt two large hands clutch each of my breasts -- I guess
given the way my bra lifts and shapes them, I can call them that. And
two arms wrapped themselves tight around my upper body, holding it
firmly. Strong arms. They weren't her fingers caressing my titties now,
but new ones. I looked down and saw a man's hands pressing against my
boobs, their fingers working the tips. And I felt a kind of pressure
against ... against my rear end! Like the blunt end of some kind of tube
sliding between my ass cheeks and pausing, pressing against my anus! It
felt warm, maybe even a bit wet.
Then I felt a sudden lunge and I lurched, and there was something
actually inside my ass. Stretching, sliding deeper into it! It hurt,
but oddly, it hurt so good! Oh, God, I was fucked! I was actually being
fucked! That was the answer to my question! She'd already arranged it!
I looked up at her. She was lying back alongside me now, watching me
with intense interest, and smiling. "Just relax, sweetie," she said
quietly, her own great satisfaction implied. "It's wonderful! I always
think so, anyway!" And she kissed the top of my head, then leaned back
again to watch.
A penis -- that's what it was, it had to be -- pushed further into me.
Widening my opening. Entranced by the glorious sensations in my breasts
-- that's what they were, breasts -- before I realized what I was doing I
pushed my whole butt back against that prodding pole, pushing it even
further into me. A slab of hairy muscles pressed against my whole rear
end. His stomach! His groin? A man's lower body! He was all the way
into me!
Now those two hands grasped my lower ribs, and the breasts given shape by
my bra lolled, rested on top of each. But delicate fingers were still
reaching toward my nipples and stroking them again. Hers! Oh, God!
"Isn't it wonderful, baby?" she crooned gently. "Don't you just love it?
Aren't these the loveliest feelings you've ever had? Don't you feel
full, completed, but in a wholly new way?"
Certainly these were the strangest feelings! That tube slid back out and
then into me again. My asshole spasmed against it. "Aaah!" I heard
from
behind me, its breath on my shoulder. And then I heard, "Again!" Even
as he said it my ass squeezed his cock again. And then again! It was a
reflex, I realized, as if I were expelling an endless turd, pressing
into
it, cutting it off so it could continue passing through my anus. As it
was doing, endlessly! In and out, in and out! Now my asshole as well as
my breasts were yearning! For what?
"Say it! Isn't it? The loveliest feeling any girl can ever feel?"
"Yes," I gasped. "The loveliest!" I realized what I'd confessed to her,
that I was a girl! Feeling like one, anyhow. Wasn't I? That cock
kept
moving in me, penetrating, sliding in and out. Wholly new sensations
began to bloom in my own cock as it flopped against the sheets and the
mattress. I began to turn turgid. Stiffened! Marvelous!
"Oh, yes!" I repeated. Then again, "Oh, God! This is so ...!"
"Yes, it can be heavenly. I knew you'd think so too!" And she smiled
again, a welcoming smile this time! "Welcome to the club, sweetheart!
Welcome to the world of women! Trust me, you'll love it!" Then in a
different tone of voice, over my head, she said, "Let her know what it's
like now, Stan! Full speed! Fill her up!"
He did just that, whoever 'Stan' was! With greater force and speed,
sliding in and out with more and more urgency, his belly slapping against
my rear on each furthest in-stroke, my own delicious tensions growing,
until at last with a single huge lunge he pushed hard, sustained his
weight against me, and I felt him throbbing deep in my innards. In my
gut. Into my gut! He'd cum!
"Now you're one of us!" she said. I looked up at her as she leaned on
one elbow. She was grinning broadly. "When you've sucked one as well as
fucked one, and you love it, then yes, then I'll marry you. Because
then
you'll have proven yourself and I'll know for sure that we can share ...
everything I love so very much! Not just our clothes and jewelry and so
on. Our men too!"
Our men?
"Sweetie, now that you're fucked, I want you to stay fucked! As often as
I am! Utterly fucked! I told you you'd love it! Same as I do, and
always have, and always will! We're a perfect pair. Thanks Stan!
Tomorrow again?"
Whoever the man behind me pulled his cock out of my rump and growled
something. Then the bed creaked as he rolled off it. I tried to turn to
see him, but my now fellow woman's arms held me firm. I felt my own ass
leaking onto the sheets. Then he was gone, this 'Stan,' as silently as
he'd come.
"Speaking of pairs, these will need to get bigger, we need to make them
more attractive to men. For when the two of us go cruising together."
She lifted each in turn. My tight bra had gathered up just enough skin
and tissue in each cup to flop back down as she lifted, then released
each. And lifted and released each again. "In six months they'll grow
to a generous C cup, easily. Maybe even a D cup. My dear sweetheart!
Yes!"
What had just happened? Never mind, I knew! I knew also that she wanted
it, and wanted me to want it, and that I could never disappoint her, not
willingly, not ever! I loved her!
"I have a lot to learn!" I said, capitulating to her utterly.
"Yes. But now that you're a woman, you'll learn. You'll live with me
from this moment on as if you were me! I bet inside a year you'll be
teaching me things! Just wait till we pull our first trains together,
each of us in the same room and hearing each other moan and scream and
neither of us ever leaving the station! Together! Oh, I do love you!"
She flung herself on me and kissed me passionately. Her own firm, soft
breasts pressed heavily on mine. What could I say?
As I mentioned at the outset, I love her. What is there left to say?
(c) 2017 by Vickie Tern
4. An Arranged Marriage
When we married, my wife had vastly more sexual experience than I did --
she was gorgeous and venturesome, and I was talented but shy, a nerd who
had learned some sociability. So she took charge of the proceedings
whenever we antcipated or engaged in intimacy. "Let me arrange the
events, what we do," she said on our wedding night, after our previous
helter-skelter relationships had been formalized by the solemn promises
of exclusivity. "I promise you'll never be disappointed. But that's how
I'll know I won't ever be either."
So of course I agreed. She'd be on top. I'd respond. I'd perform
whatever and however she wanted, and learn to desire it myself.
And that's how come, on our fifth anniversary, I was lying in bed
alongside her and our good friend Malcolm while he was slamming himself
into her repeatedly and she was shrieking. Waiting my turn -- he had
quick recovery and enormous stamina -- and when he'd brought her off he'd
turn to me to bring me off. My asshole was already pulsing in
anticipation, and I was stroking my gorgeous, delicious nipples, those
pink stubs projecting from my heavy boobs, in order to maintain a high
pitch of eager readiness. I knew I was now as seductive as she was, and
that my shrieks of ecstatic joy when he finally came into me and brought
me off would overwhelm her again as well. We were sisters, lovers,
perfectly mated. We loved each other.
(c) 2017 by Vickie Tern
Oprah
- 12.10.2020
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