Opals And Pearls free porn video

Opals and Pearls by Caitlyn Masked ------------------------------------------------ This is my first story written specificaly for publication as a story and not a captioned image or picture based story. While any and all comments are welcomed, I'd certainly love any feedback for this story as I hope to be writing many more. ------------------------------------------------ When I first got our membership at the exclusive Artemis Club, Opal was pissed. It was the known that the Artemis was a club for the wealthy, the influencers, and the affluent. The biggest non-secret around though is that the Artemis was a sex club. Stories of the orgies and cult like sex there were always told in hushed voices, but they were always told. I tried to convince my wife, Opal, that even if those stories were true I just wanted the opportunity to hobnob with potential clients and network with fellow professionals. It would be both good for my career as an up and coming clothing designer and her career as an up and coming model. When Opal finally relented and we took our memberships in hand, it went well. Yes, it was distinctly a sex club with every imaginable kink serviced to, but there was never any pressure to join in. We'd get offers but a polite decline was never frowned upon. So, it surprised me when Opal suggest that I take up a particularly amorous woman's offer. It didn't matter that she was at least 20 years older than us, I thought having sex outside of our marriage was a bad idea and let my lovely wife know that. But she eventually convinced me that the best networking and relationships happened behind those velvety curtains and that this Mrs. Wilmington's boutique would be perfect for my new classic designs. I only caved when Opal said that if I wasn't going to take advantage of the obvious opportunity, then we should cancel our expensive membership. The evening with Mrs. Wilmington was incredibly eye opening. Not only was she ravenous in bed, she had a kink for what she called girly men. If she was trying to insult my slight build and less than ideally masculine features, it worked. But in for a penny, in for a pound, so I let her slide the panties up my legs and put lipstick on me before we spent an hour in the provided bed. I thought that after licking her to orgasm several times that we'd have real sex, or that she'd at least reciprocate, but she didn't seem to have any interest in me sliding the panties out of place. Eventually when she told me to jack off through the silky panties I did so just to finish our time together. That night, I told Opal everything about it and promised that I'd never hide anything from her. I have to guess that my reluctance wasn't that much of a turn off for Mrs. Wilmington as she was asking for a repeat performance the next week. I only begged off a couple times before Opal reminded me that this was merely good business and that a little embarrassment was worth it. That and Mrs. Wilmington agreed to show a sample of my work in her stores. I was hoping it would merely be a repeat performance, but Mrs. Wilmington had different ideas and wanted to take our time together 'to the next level'. We started off by showering together and using a depilatory cream and a lady's razor to remove all my body hair. I was man enough to admit that the smooth skin felt amazing, especially as she pulled up the stockings and attached them to the garter belt, but her calling me her good girl the entire night was a little too extreme for me. Opal having sex with Mr. Wilmington seemed logical even if it was emotionally difficult. I honestly felt bad for stepping outside of our marital bed, but it was just worse when she joined me in the infidelity. That night, after being almost suffocated by Mrs. Wilmington's pussy, I not only had to tell my wife about the emasculating actions I was enduring, but I had to listen to her description of being fucked by Mr. Wilmington. Opal promised that she'd hold herself to the same promise I made. That she'd tell me everything. I hate to admit that a little part of me was jealous as she told me about his sexual prowess. His thick cock. His ability to last. There was no kink to Mr. Wilmington's desires, he just wanted to fuck and he could fuck for hours. Opal didn't even want me touching her as she was still sensitive from her sexual experience. By the time I was ready to throw in the towel on the Wilmingtons, Mrs. Wilmington brought in a contract for my new line and for Opal to model it in a show. She said she'd displayed my samples and could likely sell out an entire order within the month. I was overjoyed and saddened at the same time. Overjoyed as a sale like that in such an exclusive boutique would certainly be a huge boost to future sales as well as be the most money I'd ever made. But saddened because I felt Opal and I were obligated to continue our sexual romps. And the romps were just getting worse and worse for me. Not only was Mr. Wilmington practically insatiable, fucking Opal silly every night, Mrs. Wilmington was taking my 'Girly Man' status further each night. She'd had me in heels every night for nearly a week before I could walk gracefully in them. She had me tucking my cock back, wearing various belts, panties, and gaffs to keep me 'sweetly smooth' up front. And then one night she introduced a strap on to our activities. The strap-on was particularly emasculating, even though I only had to use my lips and not live through the indignity of this older woman fucking me with it. She took the classic masculine stance with her bare feet shoulder width apart and her hands on her hips, while I had to kneel down on a provided pillow in front of her. As she rubbed the very realistically shaped head of "her cock" over my prettily painted lips she said that she would make me the perfect cock sucker. I had hoped that she would have worn it over a dress or a skirt or at least some lingerie, but her bare skin barely gave me any feminine context to work from. While she fed it past my open lips, I couldn't help but imagine it was a man doing this to me. That thought was emboldened in my mind when her hands worked into my hair and started guiding my head back and forth. The mirror that she'd set to the side just for my viewing showed a pair of legs, a leather harness holding a realistic looking cock, and a plain looking woman giving it a BJ. The strap on became a part of our regular activities. Almost as regular as her kneeling above my face and riding my tongue to orgasm. I didn't think I'd ever look back at that time fondly, but I was wrong. Both Mr. and Mrs. Wilmington were beyond enamored with Opal and I and they wanted to take our relationships outside of the club. To that endeavor, Mrs. Wilmington started working on me being passable. At that point I'd have bet that I'd have fooled just about anybody, but Mrs. Wilmington wanted to take it further. First came my hands and feet. Or rather, my manicure and pedicure. She promised that the nail polish would be washed off, but the effect on my fingers and toes were entirely feminizing. I never thought of my hands or feet as masculine or anything, but they were both distinctly feminine now. And even with the polish occasionally washed off, I couldn't get the idea out of my mind.... My hands and feet were feminine to me now. Next up was the hair extensions. She wanted me to have long thick luxurious hair and wasn't satisfied with the wigs any longer. Opal actually joined in as she said she wanted it done right if I was going to go through with it and took me to her salon. I'd dated Opal's hair stylist before so it was beyond mortifying to have her stand above and behind me as she worked in strand by strand. I only found out after it was all done that these hair extensions were permanent. I could always cut my hair, but if I wanted the long thick hair back it would be another $4000. Almost to add insult to injury, Opal had her stylist pluck and microblade my eyebrows. Even without makeup on, it was hard to find any sign of masculinity when they turned me around and showed me the results. More than looking less masculine and more feminine was the obvious fact that had been staring at us our entire marriage. Opal and I now looked very similar. We'd of course known we were similar in height and body frame, but now it was undeniable that our faces were similarly shaped. That our lips were like each other's. We'd never be confused for twins, but we could probably pose as sisters without anybody doubting it. That fact wasn't lost on the Wilmingtons. I hadn't passed a dozen words with the older gentleman that was fucking my wife to exhaustion most nights, so it was particularly hard to hear his low rumbling voice tell Opal and I how good "his girls" looked. Mrs. Wilmington made it worse when she said we should have a new name for the new me and as I looked so much like Opal, they'd now only call me Pearl. But the worst bit of humiliation that night was Mrs. Wilmington getting up to walk me back to our room and mistaking Opal for me. Opal, for her part, complied and walked behind Mrs. Wilmington with only a confused look over her shoulder. Mrs. Wilmington had obviously had a bit too much to drink but Mr. Wilmington acted like he thought it was a fine idea and even placed his beefy hand on my knee, giving it a squeeze. I'm sure Mrs. Wilminton took my jump up and run into her arms as a sign of my eagerness to join her in back, but I'm also sure that Mr. Wilmington recognized that I was more running FROM him than TO her. Opal just patted my rear as we passed and whispered a thank you for not "taking her man" that night. Up until that point I'd never considered the possibility that I was no longer Opal's man. Sure, I was dressed in a fairly tight-fitting blouse with fake breasts being held up by a flimsy bra of my own design. Sure, I was wearing stockings held up by a matching flimsy garter belt. And yes, I was walking gracefully in a pair of three inch open toed pumps. But it hadn't ever crossed my mind that Opal looked at Mr. Wilmington as her man. What did she look at me as now? Was she like Mrs. Wilmington and looked up on me as her girl? Every time I wanted to back out of Mrs. Wilmington's feminizing requirements, there was an equally compelling business reason to stay. When she said she wanted me to dress up enfemme every time she saw me, it was at the same time she got Opal a high paying gig in Mexico for a men's magazine. When she told me she wanted to 'tart up' my makeup and always look sexy for her, it accompanied an offer for me to design a dress for her on commission. The next commission was designing and producing five bride's maid's dresses that came with experiencing wearing a butt plug for hours at a time. The butt plug became a daily experience with the bride's maid's dresses being showcased in Belle Bridal Magazine. I was convinced to let her use the strap on to fuck me by getting my designs in a bigger New York boutique. Of course, the owner of that boutique, a close friend of Mrs. Wilmington, came down to tie me up and screw me with abandon the same night she offered me a purchase order of half a million dollars. Between Opal's increasing modeling work for exclusive magazines and web sites and my expanded collection being featured in articles and boutiques, our finances were beyond our wildest dreams. In that way, Club Artemis was better than I could have ever expected. But at the same time, all of Opal's and my energies were being put into our work. And whenever we weren't working, we couldn't even dream of setting up a new life as we were expected to come to the club and play with our benefactors, the Wilmingtons. One night Opal and I entered the club wearing mirrored dresses of my own design. This was the first night I had my expensive fake breasts glued into place and was very conscious of the way they swung and jiggled, just like Opal's, in the braless dress. When we got to the bar, Mr. Wilmington was waiting there for us. He had us sit on either side of him as he explained that his wife was away on a week's trip but wanted me to be taken care of while she was gone. Instead of setting me up with another woman, as Mrs. Wilmington suggested, he wanted me to join Opal and him for the night. I could see that even Opal was ready to balk when he shifted the subject and congratulated her on her new gig. It seems a friend of his was the photography editor of a calendar company and wanted Opal for several calendars. The shoots would keep her booked for weeks traveling to far flung locals like Phuket, Virgin Gorda, Praia do Camilo, Fesdhoo, and Motu Auira. Just like before, when there was any task that made either of us uncomfortable it was accompanied by an offer that was too good to be true. Turning down Mr. Wilmington now might not cost Opal this opportunity. But that wasn't certain. So that's how my small hand ended up in Mr. Wilmington's strong grip as he guided me and my identically dressed and styled wife to a sex room. Opal just whispered in my ear to follow her lead as he stood in the center of the room and removed his sports coat. As he loosened his tie, Opal lead me to kneel beside his legs and watch up close as she undid his belt. I honestly didn't want to watch my wife have sex with another man so while I kept my face passive and still, I turned my eyes anywhere but the face of my wife. That's when I saw the mirror and was reminded of that night with Mrs. Wilmington. It was at the perfect level to show Mr. Wilmington's legs and crotch but not his upper body. That let me focus on the two shapely beautiful women kneeling before him. One working out his hardening cock while the other stared holes into my eyes. I swallowed really hard, feeling my gorge rise as the fact that the beautiful woman staring at me, kneeling beautifully and submissively at the feet of an obviously strong man... was me. With that image burning its way into my mind I turned just in time to see Opal lean forward to start suckling and licking at Mr. Wilmington's scrotum. I could feel myself trying to get hard under my gaff as my wife looked incredibly sexy with her lips sucking in one of his heavy hair balls. Her red lipstick stood out in stark contrast to her lightly tanned skin and his well-tanned groin. I almost moaned in fear as I felt his thick fingers work their way into my hair. I'd felt Mrs. Wilmington use a similar hold on my head to guide my quivering lips to her pussy or over her strap on dozens of times and as much as I still balked at the idea of sexually servicing a man, I'm not sure I'd have the ability to deny him if he forced the issue. But instead of pushing me past one of my few remaining boundaries, he simply comfortingly stroked my hair and kept me close to watch my wife expertly felate him. I think my heart grew fond of this strangely strongly domineering man as he seemingly was sparing me that. Only later did I look back and see this as a training session. As a way of showing me what he liked. There was no guidance of Opal as she seemed to know exactly what our man wanted. She took a long time licking and sucking his balls, letting his cock grow amazingly large and hard. When she licked up and down the length for maddening minutes, I felt his hand come up to caress my smooth cheek and pull me to lean up against his hip. I must have been mimicking Opals movements in some minor way as when she opened up her mouth to take his cock inside, Mr. Wilmington slid his thumb into my open mouth. I'd like to say his fingers curling under my chin is what made me close my lips around his invading thumb, but their calming stroking of my chin and throat put no force on my jaw, let alone my lips. No, my lips closed down on his digit at the same time that Opal's lips closed down on his cock. I though there couldn't possibly be any more feminizing lessons for me to bear. I could dress myself convincingly. I could style my own hair and apply my own makeup to match any look that was called for. I could walk gracefully and move with no hint of masculinity. I could speak in a convincingly feminine manner. But here and now I saw that I was, up until this point, playing a part where my wife was truly feminine. Her motions were natural and pleasing. Pleasing both to him and to her. When she paid any attention to me at all, it was only to smile and nod. She saw me as a compatriot in her job of pleasuring this man, and not as any jealous fellow lover. Certainly not as anybody to be pleased like this. By watching Opal suck and lick and work at Mr. Wilmington's cock for 25 minutes straight, I indeed learned what he liked. Having his thumb in my mouth was like having a pulse meter as its pressing and sliding over my tongue told me how excited he got. Being pressed against his hip made me feel his warm flesh getting warmer and his fast pulse getting faster. I thought for sure that this episode would end with him taking charge. I figured he'd push Opal off his throbbing member, take it into his own hand, turn me to press against Opal's cheek, and jack him self off until he shot his cum over the both of us. Instead I felt his thumb's sliding in between my lips growing more intense. I felt the sweat on his skin run down my cheek as he felt like a furnace. And finally, when Opal pushed in so deep that she buried her nose into his pubic hair, I felt him tremble and barely thrust deeper into her throat as he let out a guttural cry of ultimate pleasure. My eyes could only widen as not only had Opal never deep throated me, she'd never ever let me come close to cuming in her mouth. But here was my beautiful wife, made more beautiful by her pleasuring of this true man, swallowing his seed down in one, two, three gulps. She even licked his cock clean as she slowly withdrew. My only shock of sex came afterward when Mr. Wilmington stepped back and plopped into a chair with a satisfied sigh and my wife turned her attentions on me. Her face was wild with sexual energy and sweat. Her makeup was a mess as her lipstick was left mostly on his manhood. But she'd never looked more beautiful. When she leaned in to kiss me, I knew damned well she'd just sucked a man off and I felt lucky to not have been forced to participate more than I had, but I still couldn't deny her this kiss. I couldn't deny those needy lips that had been recently wrapped around a man. I could taste him all over her. On her lips, on her tongue, on her breath, but I still couldn't deny her this kiss as she'd never been more beautiful to me. Compared to the intensity of that moment, the rest of the night was tame. I was made to kneel next to the bed as Mr. Wilmington pushed my wife's face into the pillows and took her from behind. I was sent out to get them drinks and snacks and listen to them as they joked and talked and rebuilt up their energy. I was made to lie under Opal and lick her to orgasm, tasting his cream as she pushed it out into my mouth, then remain in that position as he barely lifted her hips and slid into her again. My vision above consisted only of his balls swinging freely above me, his cock stretching my wife's pussy wide open, and her thighs clenching with undeniable pleasure. Finally, I was made to lie next to my wife and kiss her gently as she drifted off to sleep. It was the first night we'd both spent in the club, and while the sexual energy wasn't ours alone, it was the first time my wife and I had shared any sexual experience in over a year. When I woke up, I saw Mr. Wilmington sitting in one of the wingback chairs reading a tablet. I'm not sure what noise or motion I made, but he immediately knew I was awake and he bade me to quietly pretty myself up and join him for breakfast. To let Opal sleep the morning away. I slipped into the attached bathroom and washed up. While putting on my makeup and brushing out my hair, I couldn't help but see a new me In the mirror. A me that had just spent the previous day helping his wife sexually pleasure a man. A me who had been viewed completely as a woman during that act. A me who hadn't protested or balked at being placed skin to skin, cheek to hip, inches away from a man's cock being sucked by a similarly dressed and styled woman. A me that with my cock pulled back in my gaff and my pretty panties and bra on couldn't pass as a man even if he tried. While trying to ignore those new revelations about myself I turned and slipped back into my dress. With my clothes, makeup, and heels back in place I stepped into the club and saw that Mr. Wilmington and I had the whole area to ourselves. Only the waitress coming and pouring us some orange juice ruined the illusion that we were completely alone. Mr. Wilmington had been busy and he started what felt like a completely rational business presentation. He showed me the values of current and recently past clothing designers. He showed me their trending valuations and how female designers were outperforming and out earning men by a large margin. He then pivoted to my career and showed how it practically mirrored the greats like Donna Karan, Stella McCartney, and Vera Wang's early careers. His next subject was me directly and what I knew about my own career. I stumbled and stuttered in my quiet voice about being featured in the magazines and having important exclusive clients and spectacular deals with fashionable boutiques. His predatory smile appeared as his calmly asked questions tore down my belief in my business acumen. Did I know who to contact at the magazines for future features or articles? No. Did I know who to negotiate with at my current suite of boutiques? No. Did I know how to approach a new boutique and write up a contract that would entice them to try me out without losing money in the process? No. Did I know how to incorporate my business and protect my private assets? No. Did I know how to invest my money and make it grow without the design business feeding it new money. No. Did I even know which clothing house was producing my designs to be sold? No. After chipping away at my business self, Mr. Wilmington stayed in the same gear, but changed lanes. He explained that Opal was similarly unprepared to run her own career. He explained that she had no idea who to contact for new gigs, had no way to look for repeat work with previous clients, and didn't even know how much she was getting paid let alone how to invest her earnings and make them work for her. Spinning the tablet for me to see he showed me a chart of our finances on hand, our spending habits, and what would happen if our finances returned to their pre-club levels. It was clear that without help Opal and I would be out of home and money within eighteen months unless our earnings continued. Our visits to the salon, our cosmetics budget, and our clothes shopping alone could eat our entire previous earnings all by themselves. I had known that we were indebted to the Wilmingtons for our career and financial windfalls, but I never realized just how dependent we were on them. Perhaps sensing my growing distress, Mr. Wilmington scootched his chair closer to mine and wrapped his strong arm around my petit shoulders and pulled me to him comfortingly. And it WAS comforting in its own way, having this man tell me in a simple physical act that I was safe, even if a big component of my self-identity was the ability to keep me and my wife safe myself. Held in this safe space, Mr. Wilmington started describing options as he saw them. He prefaced this by telling me that Mrs. Wilmington wasn't aware he was doing this, nor had Opal been consulted. This was him merely talking to me. The first option he saw was him and his wife losing interest in Opal and me. That they'd move on to other couples as they had in the past. He supposed the best-case scenario in that circumstance was we returned to our previous lives, gave up the club life and the exclusive opportunities it offered and scraped by a living. The worse case scenario would be us trying to keep up appearances and trying to manage our careers only to end up broken and bankrupt. Possibly divorced with all the extra marital stress that would entail. I shivered slightly under the weight of his comforting arm as the thought of losing Opal was devastating to me, even if discussed as a possible outcome. When his comforting arm was lifted away from me, I didn't hesitate in taking his hand and following him to sit in one of the comfortable couches. With his arm around me, holding me close again, I rested my head against his shoulder and let him continue. His next scenario was more positive, but still distasteful. We could continue as we are. Opal serving Mr. Wilmington as his sexual appetites demanded and me serving Mrs. Wilmington as her kinky nature demanded. He said it was only a matter of time before he grew bored with Opal if their relationship didn't move on to become more intimate and he'd eventually drop her for someone new and interesting. And Mrs. Wilmington's exploration of her dominant peculiar tastes would soon enough have me moving beyond simply being feminized. That eventually she'd have me wearing ruffled panties, frilly dresses, and prancing around as a full- blown sissy. That eventually she'd introduce men into our sexual escapades as she'd need the masculine touch herself and wouldn't stop until I was sucking and fucking right along side her. Another shiver racked my body but the emotion that caused it was harder to define this time. I might not love being seen in an entirely feminine way. I might feel a loss of my masculinity. But underneath that, I knew that I was becoming a convincingly beautiful woman and that a part of me enjoyed that. And the thought of becoming a caricature of that... of being an obvious man in drag, swishing my way through the club all in an attempt to keep the attentions of the woman in charge of my business was humiliating on a level that I'm not sure I could stand. And of course, if I stepped away, it went unsaid that I'd end up in the same exact scenario he'd first described. As Mr. Wilmington's hand rubbed up and down my arm, I sensed for the first time in him hesitation. He actually stumbled over his words as he offered a third option. Not a continuation of our situation that would end in disappointment for all involved. Not an intensifying of our situation that would blow up when it reached its breaking point. But instead a progression of our situation. An admission that Opal and I were reliant on him and his wife and putting out finances, our careers, and even ourselves, under their direct supervision. Financially we would tender our assets into a trust that Mr. Wilmington would manage. All of our earnings would be added to it as the Wilmington's would take care of our living expenses while under the umbrella of this arrangement. If Opal and I ever wanted to terminate the arrangement, the trust would be returned to us but until that point it would be something out of our reach. We would be truly completely financially dependent on this man and his wife. The financial reliance on this couple would be easy in comparison to what Mr. Wilmington talked about next. And to emphasize his point he gently guided my dainty hand with its immaculately painted nails to his crotch. I could feel his cock already growing hard and throbbing against my palm. The next part of Opal's and my lives would be submitting our ability to make choices for ourselves to the Wilmingtons. That Mrs. Wilmington would manage my clothing design business completely and that I'd work under both her financial and her creative direction. My creative freedom would be finished. That Opal would take any and all work that Mr. Wilmington set up for her. Even if it included posing nude or to the ultimate extreme, even if it included posing and acting for porn. As I tried to consider what exactly it would mean to work with my creativity leashed to someone else's vision and as I wondered if I could watch Opal perform sexual acts with strangers for public consumption, Mr. Wilmington maneuvered my hand so that he could unzip his fly and pull out his now hard cock. A shivering intake of breath was the only sign of my reluctance as he wrapped my fingers around his girth and started guiding my hand up and down it's length. While giving him a hand-job, Mr. Wilmington described how this arrangement would both keep him interested in Opal and me long term and how Mrs. Wilmington's kinks would keep up in a more pleasing way with my desires. He described a deep fantasy that he and Mrs. Wilmington had talked about long ago. About meeting a loving couple and molding them into the people that they wanted. That if that fantasy were ever to be true, the couple would have to poses similar bodies as they molded the man into a twin of his female partner. He continued while slowly guiding my head down toward his crotch. Toward my hand pumping his cock. He said that he and his wife's fantasy never involved ruining a long-term loving relationship or a marriage. That their domination of this soon to be set of twins would enhance a truly loving couple. And that over the past few months, both he and Mrs. Wilmington had been testing and prodding both Opal and I to see if this seemingly impossible fantasy could include us. My hand naturally shortened its stroke as Mr. Wilmington's guidance never slowed and directed my mouth to his manhood. As my lips parted and let the large bulbous head slide into my mouth, he kept talking as if we were merely sitting across from each other and not me performing my very first, self-identity altering, gender defining, masculinity crushing, blow job. He described Mrs. Wilmington's actions testing me. Seeing how willing I was to present myself as female. How I could alter my body, how I could change my hair, how I could make changes that made it impossible in the short term to present myself as male. She tested my sexual appetites in serving her and others by introducing the dildos and her friends to our play. A quiet frustrated moan escaped my mouth as Mr. Wilmington's cock filled it and I learned that Mrs. Wilmington wasn't fond of using a strap on. That she'd only used it to see if I could serve men as well as women. My eyes closed in frustration as I recalled this very position from Mrs. Wilmington's play, with her hand slowly encouraging me to keep moving as she fed the rubber toy into my mouth. And just like Mrs. Wilmington did then, Mr. Wilmington encouraged me to move and reposition myself on my elbows and knees. When Mr. Wilmington's cock tapped the back of my throat my back constricted as I gagged. He didn't let me move up and get his cock out of my mouth as I wanted, but I can't deny he was gentle and gave me time to recover before adding the slightest of pressures and encouraging me to continue bobbing up and down while he talked about Opal's testing. While I had been learning how to suck cock by Mrs. Wilmington and how to get fucked by her friends, Opal was being offered a life of extravagance, love, wealth, and ultimate satisfaction. All of it available if she simply left me. Each of her refusals were met with a more enticing offer and the last offer was made just a couple nights ago. That offer included Mr. Wilmington divorcing his wife and marrying Opal without any kind of financial prenuptial agreement. That half of his intense wealth would have been hers. More than that, she would have had a seat on his board of directors, giving her a say in the running of his multi-million- dollar businesses. It even included a financial setup that would have taken care of me for the rest of my life. She would have had financial independence, the emotional support of a man that obviously loved her, a stake in his companies and half of his finances should they divorce. All if she would simply agree to never see me again. The tears flowing down my cheeks were genuine. They may have started from Mr. Wilmington's repeated attempts at getting me to deep throat him, but they were entirely from the obvious love of my wife as he said her response was exactly what they needed. She not only refused his advances but said if he continued to try and break her away from me that she would end their relationship and never see him again. That her love for me was more important that a guaranteed life of power, financial independence, and pleasure. I could feel Mr. Wilmington's balls start to tense under my hand while his cock swelled and throbbed in my mouth. And while it was clear he was ready to orgasm by the tenseness of his voice, he continued. He said it was clear that neither Opal nor I felt any need to be in control of our finances. Just as he and his wife wanted. He said that it was clear that Opal's and my relationship was solid, loving, and unbreakable. Just as he and his wife wanted. He said it was clear that I could not only comfortably present myself as female for everybody to see, but that my sexuality was flexible enough to allow him to enjoy my recently taught talents. Just as he and his wife wanted. He said it was clear that both Opal and I were willing to make difficult changes to our personalities and bodies to please he and his wife. Just as he and his wife wanted. And he said that it was finally clear that while I was more moldable, that Opal had a core of iron that was unbendable and unbreakable and that our undying love for each other along with that strength would keep both of us protected from he and his wife and from ourselves. Just as he and his wife wanted. My moan around his cock this time held no frustration or confusion. It accompanied my realization that this presentation, while important, was simply a way of letting me see how inevitable this all was. And while him throbbing and cuming in my mouth was still emotionally hard to accept, I still realized deep down that this was an act that I could learn to love to perform. Mr. Wilmington was able to read my acceptance and compliance easily. He let my cheek rest against his belly while his cock shrunk inside my mouth and he petted and caressed my hair as he continued on. He said that one of the first things we'd do was have me start hormone therapy. He comforted my initial fear by saying I'd keep my genetalia intact as he wanted it as a final reminder of mine and Opal's one difference, but that the hormones would render it useless for sexual gratification. My eyes closed and I let out another whimper, knowing he must be imagining me as even more feminine as his cock reversed course and started getting hard again. He said that once my hormone induced breast development finished, that Opal and I would be in for twin surgeries. Opal and I would end up with a twin set of proud, perky, C cup breasts. My whole body convulsed as Mr. Wilmington gave me the slightest encouragement to start sucking him actively again and at the same time, he pulled my dress up to my waist and slid his hand underneath my panties. As his finger, wetted by his saliva alone, slid into my sphincter he started rolling off a fantasy list of procedures that Opal and I would go through together. All to make us physically and mentally as close as possible. I'd have procedures to nip in my waist and redistribute my fat to my ass and hips. We'd both go through exercise regiments to get our bodies to match. Opal's arms would be strengthened while my legs would be similarly worked out. Opal would have a minor face lift and nose job while my facial surgeries would be more intense, leaving us visually indistinguishable. A dermatologist would be employed to remove any of our birth marks and moles and even create matching beauty marks above our lips... Opal's on the left, mine on the right. While using the techniques Mrs. Wilmington had been teaching me about sucking her strap on and listening to Mr. Wilmington describe how within a couple years I'd end up as an almost complete twin of my wife and used for his and Mrs. Wilmington's sexual plaything, I couldn't help but wonder what Opal would think of this arrangement. Or what Mrs. Wilmington would think of it. But both of those questions were answered in short order. When Mr. Wilmington's finger withdrew from my ass, I felt a set of hands on my ass cheeks, pulling them apart as something was pushed into me. I again moaned onto the cock inside of my mouth as I immediately recognized Mrs. Wilmington's touch. Her absence last night was a lie, seemingly to justify my treatment at Mr. Wilmington's and my wife's sexual desires. She must have been present for at least some of this as she was now slowly and lovingly fucking me with her strap-on. And just as my mind bent around that, I saw Opal's lovely glowing face enter my field of view. Her brilliant smile told me about her love for me while her bending forward to suckle at Mr. Wilmington's balls told me about her acceptance of this plan. Of our new lives together. -- The End --