Nandita To Nandini
- 3 years ago
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Sweet And Sentimental free porn video
Sweet And Sentimental by Throne
I was at my computer, dressed in panties and my long, pink-champagne
nightgown. What I was wearing felt so good against my smooth satiny
skin. Instead of one of my wigs I had my natural hair, which is collar-
length, up in ponytails at the sides of my head. For make-up I had on
just a touch of blush and some pink-tinted lip gloss. I was in the
middle of reading a newly posted story on my favorite site, Make Believe
Mania, when I heard the front door open. I tensed up inside and my eyes
froze on the line of type I was in the middle of. It was about a guy
being forced to go shopping for lingerie with his wife while he was in
full drag.
Before I could react further, Karma entered the room and put herself
behind me. I sat there with my face grown warm, caught with my favorite
reading material. She set her hand on my shoulder.
"Well, well," my wife said, cool and calm. "Why are you in that sexy
sleepwear, Danny? And what's that you're reading?"
"I... it... sometimes I just like to dress this way, dear." I made a
soft throat-clearing sound. "And this is a story by a writer I like, who
uses the name Queening Chair."
"Oh?" Was she shocked? Angry? About to inflict some terrible form of
payback for my sissy indiscretion? Instead of any of that she wanted to
know, "What's it about?"
This wasn't going to be easy. "Well, there's a husband whose wife is
feminizing him. She has him wearing these latex panties, with his ...
um... male parts tucked down and back so it looks like he doesn't have
any. And there's a matching latex bra, with breast forms in it, so it
appears that he has boobies. And then, right after she puts cosmetics on
his face and a short silver wig on his head, there's a knock at the
door."
She gave my shoulder a squeeze, her nails pressing slightly into the
flesh. "Read part of it to me."
That made me shudder. I licked my lips, tasting the flavored gloss, and
began. "The doorbell rang. Teeny had to answer it. His wife Carmen,
her dark eyes flashing, full figure well displayed by the catsuit she
wore, thick black hair bouncing as she moved, followed him. He opened
the door and there stood her lover, Maximillian. He gave the sissy a
toothy grin and said, 'Would it be okay if I come in and make wild
passionate love to your lovely wife, who I love to take to bed while you
watch and whimper?' Teeny, which was the feminized husband's femme name,
could only nod and wave the big man into his home.
"HA!" Karma slid her hand down further, to diddle my nipple through the
thin material of the nightgown. "What a coincidence. My lover,
Reynaldo, should be here any minute. He's always so eager to drag me
into the bedroom for an hour of making me writhe and sweat and moan. And
of course we'll make you watch."
That had me breathing hard. The idea of being cuckolded always excites
me. And having my bride play with my nipples -- she got started on the
other one too -- never fails to make me stiff.
"Y... yes, darling."
"And I see your miniature dick is trying to fight its way through those
panties. It makes such a small bump in them. With a tiny tool like
that, it's no wonder you're a sissy."
There was a long pause before she stopped tantalizing me, leaned down to
press her lips against the side of my neck, and blew through them to make
a razzing sound. I relaxed and turned my swivel chair so I could look at
her. Karma is short like me, with a sweet round face, plump figure, and
her dark hair worn short, with bangs. She held my face between her hands
and kissed me tenderly on the mouth.
"That's quite a story you're reading," she said. "You really like the
ones with the cheating wives."
"They definitely work for me," I admitted sheepishly. "But I like other
kinds too. This writer uses all sorts of themes. Guys being dominated
by lesbians, turned into real females, made to work in drag clubs, and
even turned into objects or items of clothing." She likes me to be
honest about my interests, so I added, "And sometimes it's guys being,
um, controlled by other guys."
"Big manly ones like Maximillian, I'm sure. Do you think he'll turn out
to be the husband's old school bully?"
"Maybe. That's another plot element that Queening Chair uses sometimes.
But I never know what he'll come up with next. That's why it's funny
when some reader will occasionally leave a comment saying that all his
stories are the same."
"Well, I'm glad he mixes them up. It gives us more ideas for games to
play. Like right now it could be the one where a wife comes home and
catches her hubby playing dress-up." She changed her tone to sharp and
threatening. "How long have you been getting all dolled up like this
when I'm not around?"
I fell into character and whimpered, "I've been doing it since I was a
teenager. And didn't stop after we got married."
"I don't like you keeping secrets from me. Especially not such naughty
ones. Your bad behavior means you're going to get some -- discipline."
"Yes, Ma'am," I said breathily, my voice quivering. That was partly
acting but also from excitement. "Are you going to spank my fanny?"
"Not right now, Didi." I loved it when she used my girly name. "I'm
going to turn you into my sex slave."
A few whacks on the bottom would have been a nice prelude to serving her,
but I understood. My wife gets very aroused by having me as her willing
submissive, when I'm putting her pleasure first and expecting no
traditional reciprocation. That is, she relishes me eating her pussy and
not wanting anything in return beyond being teased and denied. It's a
combination that works perfectly for both of us, though we mix in other
elements at times. She snapped her fingers and motioned for me to stand.
I quickly put the computer into 'sleep' mode to save power. Even if
you're about to have a kinky scene with your loving spouse, that's no
excuse to waste electricity. Karma has always been aware of
environmental issues. She got a lot of her thinking from her parents,
who gave her that New Age name. They also imparted a liberal attitude
about relationships, which I'm grateful for every time we enact one of
our Dom/sub scenarios.
In the bedroom she made me undress her. Karma had on a rather plain
blouse and slacks, plus slip-on flats. Unerotic but a nice contrast with
her curvy figure as I slowly revealed it. Her undergarments were mundane
too but, again, kept my focus on her shapely contours. When she was
naked and put her hands on her swelling hips, I nearly melted with sissy
submissiveness. My wife cupped my chin in her hand to kiss me full on
the mouth, her tongue lashing against mine, making it clear who was in
charge when it came to sex.
She told me, "I want to look as bossy as I feel. Get me the vest."
Just hearing her say that made me my nerve endings tingle. I went to her
side of the closet and took out the hanger with a leather vest on it.
Reverently, I took the symbol of her bedroom leadership and held it out
to her. She turned away, giving me a good view of her round backside,
and drew back her arms. I slipped it onto her and she shrugged it into
place. When she turned toward me once more, the dark halves of the
garment, oxblood red, framed her pale breasts and their wide rosy
aureoles. She took me in her arms and pulled me against her. I trembled
as she gave me another probing kiss, her bust against the front of my
nightgown, the scent of leather released by the warmth of our bodies. My
erection was held upright by our locked-together pelvises. Karma ground
her hips into mine, making me feel even more weakly girlish, if that was
possible.
"All right, you," she ordered with authority. "Into my bed. Now."
It was our bed, of course, but I was thrilled whenever she identified it
so possessively. And I should point out that, despite how she had
earlier demeaned my penis for being small, I've an average six inches in
length, and on the thick side, though my genitals look odd to me from
being kept hairless. Pretending to be deficient in the dick department
is a potent fantasy. Pretending that your wife has made you impotent is
also a potent fantasy, if that's not contradiction in terms. As I laid
there she grabbed some cosmetics from her dresser and took a minute to
dramatize my eye make-up. As eager as she gets, she still sometimes
draws things out on a whim. As Karma finished, I remembered one time,
several months ago, she had made me crawl behind her to bed, an
experience that I often replayed in my mind. Her round bottom had
mesmerized me as it moved. I wanted that to happen again but try not to
be pushy about those things. No topping from the bottom. On the other
hand, when I do want to convey a special desire, I have a simple way of
doing it.
If I say, 'You're not going to make me crawl to the bedroom, are you?' or
'Please don't make me crawl to the bedroom', it means that's exactly what
I want her to do. Still, I try to pace these matters. At the moment it
was clear that she had her sex drive in high gear and needed the
treatment that would shift it back down. My wife leaned over and gave me
one final intimate kiss. After that I would be the one administering the
lip-locks, though not on the mouth. Karma stretched out on her back and
spread her legs invitingly. Another man would have thought of plunging
his rigid cock into her and pumping furiously, intent on selfishly
satisfying his own needs. Instead, I got into position on my belly, lips
nearly touching labia, sniffed and salivated. Her feminine center sent
forth a seductive scent.
She said, "Take your time, Didi. You know how I like it. Be my obedient
little sissy and maybe I'll let you do something fun afterwards. I might
even let you... Well, we can wait and see about that."
Really? She might allow me to... finish? If so, how? With her hand?
Or mine, while she watched and made nasty but exciting comments? After
my wife's remarks I wanted to rush her through a few orgasms to get my
reward, if there was any waiting for me. Of course, she might just be
teasing about that. She had specified that I should take my time, which
created a tension between wanting to hurry and not being permitted to. I
started my tongue moving, up and down, in and out, and my lips working on
her protruding clitoris. Her flavors intoxicated me. Hints of coffee
and bacon, with a piquant suggestion of seafood melange. Contact with
her moist slippery surfaces turned my mouth into an erogenous zone.
After a short while I sensed Karma building toward a climax and slowed
down, not enough to spoil her mood, only sufficiently to prolong her
pleasure. It worked. Not until several minutes later did I switch to
concentrating on her love button, which was guaranteed to put her over
the top. Sure enough, she was soon moaning loudly, with tremors running
through her legs, and hips twitching, all of which led to an explosive
finale. She peaked and then descended slowly.
Knowing her likes, I continued sliding my tongue over her slicked nether
lips, maintaining her in just enough of an elevated state that it was
simple to keep her going toward a second quaking eruption of sexual
energy. After that I backed off until she was just basking in an
afterglow. Instead of licking or sucking I merely kissed her external
lips every few seconds. She purred happily. Then my wife delivered a
surprise.
Karma suggested, "Why don't you lower those pretty panties of yours,
Didi? And hike up your lovely nightgown. Then get into the missionary
position."
I didn't know where this was going but it was promising. I couldn't
remember the last time my penis was in close proximity to her vagina. I
cautiously assumed the pose, propped up on my forearms, chest above hers.
"Is this okay?" I asked in my whispery Didi voice.
"That's fine. Now why don't you touch my pussy with that baby dick of
yours, sissy? I'm giving you permission."
That was a pleasant development, though I immediately began to wonder if
the privilege came with a price. I further rearranged what I was wearing
and wriggled my hips forward until the tip of my prick bumped up against
the warm wetness of her cleft. It felt glorious. I had to take several
deep breaths to steady myself. She chuckled at my helplessness and
brought her hands up. My wife began to lightly stimulate my nipples
through the silkiness of the nightgown. I gasped and experienced a surge
of need. If I could just penetrate her it would be heavenly.
As if reading my mind she said, "That's as far as you're allowed to go,
sissy. Poor baby. Your teeny weenie is all ready for action but you're
only allowed as far as the entrance and not inside. How does it feel,
Didi? Hmmm? Is it nice to have your itty-bitty touching my precious
pussy?"
"Yessss," I hissed breathlessly. "It's incredible. Thank you."
She chuckled. "Go ahead. Buck your hips. Pretend like you're a real
male and not a girly man. Act like you don't have your long hair in that
cute style, and you're not dressed like a lingerie model, and you don't
smell like flowery perfume, and your pecker's not half the size of what a
woman wants. Make believe, Didi. But don't you dare go any further."
It was maddening to be that close to the goal guy's seek and be forbidden
to proceed, not by dire suggestions or direct threats, but simply because
my wife told me NO. I pumped my hips and groaned from frustration.
"Pleeease." The word came out choked.
"Please what? Be allowed to go the rest of the way into me? No, no, no.
We both know that's not going to happen, Didi. I like you yearning for
it all the time. That makes you a better sissy pussy-eater. And
frankly, it gives me a psychological kick, knowing that I'm denying you
what you have every right to expect, or would if you weren't a short-
dicked pansy. Does that make you sad?"
"I'm just... I only want... I need to..."
"Awww. Your balls must be so backed up. I should let you finish.
Still, it won't be fully satisfying if you have to do it with only that
mini-head in me. It might be more merciful to simply make you reverse
direction and go back to the old no-contact rule. What do you think?"
I sounded close to tears as I begged, "Please, just let me have some
release. I know it won't be ideal. But it'll be enough for... for..."
I was feeling like a character in one of those stories by Queening Chair
or some other writer whose fantasies I was drawn to. I finished with,
"It will be enough for a sissy like me."
"Okay, I guess." She sighed. "You caught me in a generous mood."
Her fingers became more active on my chest, gently tweaking and tugging
my nipples. All that kinky pillow talk, combined with the diddling she
had already done, had me on the verge. This put me over the edge.
Sooner than I would have liked, my balls pulsed and I was suddenly
spurting my load, not when I wished to but when my lovingly dominant wife
deemed the time right. I released several heavy shots and then it
subsided. I was panting and murmuring, still supporting myself with my
arms. She gradually slowed her playing with my chest and then ceased it.
The whole episode had been intense.
I was emboldened by how much she had catered to my fantasies. At the
risk of spoiling an amazing happening, I dared to push for something I
had only read about.
Inching back just a bit, I said guiltily, "I'm sorry. I made a big mess
down there. Do you want me to clean it up?"
She decided, "That would be a good idea. Your spunk is all over my
pussy. Because you didn't get inside with more than just the head,
everything is right there where you can reach it."
"I could get some tissues," I suggested. "Or a nice warm washcloth."
This was the pivotal moment. My hope could be dashed in an instant. I
didn't even know if it was an honest desire or just the influence of all
those stories. I carefully offered, "Or if you think I was a bad sissy
for making my mess where I did, and you wanted to teach me a lesson, you
could have me clean you up... um..."
I left the thought uncompleted, hoping he would see where I had been
headed. There was a long moment of silence, suspended seconds of
palpable stress. Karma's pretty face went from unreadable to soft and
she got a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"Maybe a misbehaving sissy like you should be made to undo what she did a
different way. Without tissues or a washcloth. What do you think that
would be instead, Didi?"
She wasn't going to come right out and say it. Probably she wanted to
make me shame myself by stating the thought out loud. Karma knows that
mortification translates to arousal for me. Sometimes you have to be
cruel to be kind, though in this case it was different that what The Bard
originally meant.
Licking my lips, I told her, "For letting myself get overexcited and lose
control, I think I should have to lick up that awful deposit I left
there."
"That's correct. You do have to lick it up. And if you give me another
bang-up orgasm, that would help settle the score even better."
As I moved back down to my previous position I was smiling inside. This
was incredible. A longstanding fantasy was about to be fulfilled. At
the same time, the prospect of what I was about to do was in some ways
unpleasant. And it was an act that couldn't be forgotten by either of us
once I had committed it. It might be a step forward or two steps back.
I knew my wife would be agreeable if I decided to change my mind right
then. Instead of retreating like that, I got my mouth directly in front
of her pussy and planted a kiss on her mound, just above her clit. She
sighed and I took a long lick from bottom to top, gathering a generous
helping of my own cream, taking it into my mouth, and forcing myself to
swallow the salty gob. She wriggled her hips with barely suppressed
urgency and I understood the message. She was turned on and didn't want
any hesitation. Quite the opposite. I went to work vigorously. She
reacted with enthusiasm.
By the end she had not one more climax but three, reassuring me that she
liked what had just occurred. It also told me that she would almost
certainly want replays on a regular basis. That would be selfish of her.
In this case, selfish was good. I was delighted by the new addition to
the dynamic of our relationship. After Karma came down from the last
orgasm, she invited me to cuddle against her. I love that position, with
me lower down than her, nuzzling her breasts, feeling possessed and cared
about. She idly toyed with one of my ponytails. Then she rolled onto
her side and drew my face into the valley between her chubby boobs.
"That was fun," she said. "It opens up a lot of possibilities. You'll
have to let me know if I'm pushing you beyond your limits. I think I'll
start with telling you all about my lover Maximillian. Or as I call him,
Maxim. Or would you prefer Reynoldo? Yes, let's go with that. In fact,
let's make him a Count. I'd like that. Count Reynoldo. Riding on a
tall stallion. Hmm. My stallion riding on a stallion. Like one of the
handsome studs in those romance novels I read. Don't worry, Didi. I
have no intention of ever cheating in real life. I love you too much for
that. But it's a terrific fantasy. Don't you think so?"
"Yes," was all I could say, overcome by her now taking us to another new
level. It sounded as if she'd been reading stories on my other favorite
site, Night Visitor, with its endless cuckold variations.
"I think I'll start out by coming home from dates with him and telling
you what a fantastic lover he is. And then making you go down on me to
clean up after him." Her excitement was audible. "In fact, lets' start
that right now. I'm good for one more climax."
*********
(I consider this story to fit in the Sweet/Sentimental category. Imagine
how nice it would be in a relationship with someone who shared your
fantasies and could add some embellishments of their own. What do you
think?)
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