After a heartbreaking divorce I wasted a a few years in mourning, reflecting on all the things that had gone wrong in the relationship. What had started as an equal-sided affair turned into a female dominated one. Basically, her pussy ruled.
Finally pulling myself out of a sea of self-pity I began dating again, meeting a nice lady. Kathy is a tall woman, very nice boobs, with a pretty smile and clear skin. Usually, my eyes gravitate toward the ass, but with Kathy, it was her face, her chest and her legs.
To my surprise, we seemed to hit it off. Maybe this time, I thought, I had found true love. The only concern I had was keeping the grim aspects of the past hidden.
But as we continued seeing each other, the fear that the past would rear its ugly head and reveal my true character haunted me. Flaws in my personality have contributed to my downfall in maintaining a relationship and I was afraid my real self would show itself once again and ruin everything.
What was I worried about? Well, there a few things. The first is I have an almost uncontrollable oral fixation to the extent my mouth and tongue become the primary sexual organs. When I'm in bed I can't seem to stop licking, sucking and tongueing.
The second problem is my need to get frilly. Despite being too big and too manly I am unable to resist dressing up in sexy female garments. I can't keep my hands and body off of scanty panties, nylons, mini-skirts, corsets, and any kind of lingerie. Satins, silks, and soft material send chills of excitement through me every time I put them on. Make-up and high heels add to the sensation and my craving to crossdress takes over. Obviously, I have to work hard to try to keep this perversion hidden from my girlfriends.
The third problem involves a particular embarrassing personal deficiency. Down south, my male appendage is a bit on the small size, ok, more than a bit, and to add insult to injury, the little guy tends to shoot off fairly quickly whenever he gets excites which is quite often.
So far, every woman I've been with has eventually tired of my pathetic attempts and found the need to enjoy larger, more satisfying equipment, usually while we're still going together.
And finally, I seem to gravitate into a submissive role with my lovers. And if that's not bad enough, while submitting to my girlfriends, I have this insatiable need to be debased, humiliated, enslaved and cuckolded, traits for some reason are not generally appreciated by many women.
Not surprisingly, these depraved qualities seem to lead invariably to one inevitable conclusion. I always lose the girl, sometimes helping her out finding a better substitute.
The first fetish, loving oral sex isn't a much of problem with women, in fact, this particular obsession of mine is the main reason, other than money, women stay with me in the first place. Lots of women are used to the guy jumping on them, pounding away, and rolling over and going to sleep.
Not me. I spent hours finding artful ways to please the woman with my mouth, my tongue and my fingers. Oral orgasms are my speciality, especially when I don't require reciprocation.
It's the other three kinks that always cause the difficulties with the gentler sex.
When you're slightly different than other men it's difficult to find someone who understands, especially a man's need to dress like a woman. Whenever I'm finally caught it has led to disastrous results, usually a lot of screaming then one of us moving out.
And, needless to say, trying to explain to a woman that you get off on being humiliated is a tricky undertaking. Most women don't understand it. They find the thought of a man desiring humiliation disgusting. Usually just the confession leads to a brutal and final breakup with my sense of pride flushed down the toilet. Some would say that that resul is exactly what I crave. They may be right.
The story of how I got this way is told in other tales. My wife, or I should say, my ex-wife led me down this path of depravity, but I have to admit I was more than a willing victim. Now, after a messy divorce, I vowed to leave all my quirks behind.
It didn't work out that way.
The first girlfriend after my divorce, Kathy, learned quickly how easy it was to get me to return to my old habits.
The first step was easy. As I was a sucker for oral sex all of my relationships soon got sort of one-sided. When the lady realized I loved going down on her and would gladly do it over and over, and when she got tired, she discovered I didn't expect her to reciprocate she became comfortable with getting hers without worrying about mine.
Kathy and I dated for a few weeks and everything went along in the usual way, kissing, hugging, and a grope or two. After a few expensive nights at the finest restaurants, she said we could go all the way.
Back home, I slowly stripped her of unneccessary garments then spent an hour or so licking, sucking, and teasing every part of her smooth and delicious body. After three orgasms and finally sated, she allowed me to mount and ride until I climaxed. The first time I managed to last a good half-a-minute, a record for me.
The combination of oral skills and fancy dates had an effect. Kathy enjoyed my tongue and she liked the money I spent on her, so she allowed us to become a couple. Sure we fucked but not before I spent a lot of time between her legs, pleasuring her with many lickings and multiple orgasms. I was proud of the way I made her cum from my oral abilities.
Every night it was the same. My head betwen her thighs until she had her fill of mutiple orgasms, then, when it came to my turn she would just lay there on her back, almost bored. To her credit, she seemed to tolerate my quick, short thrustings. Her casual, unresponsiveness to my penetration was a far cry from the passionate groans my tongue evoked. The fact she didn't seem to get excited by my love-making only added fuel to my masochistic side. Recognizing she was not pleasured by my penetration caused me to get more excited and cum quicker.
Knowing she preferred my mouth to my cock didn't bother me. Frankly, I was used to it and it had been so long since I had been allowed to fuck someone I was grateful she allowed me to penetrate her hot body.
Things were going smoothly until one weekend on vacation. Arriving in a small, out-of-the-way town on the ocean, she discovered she had forgotten to bring our stash of contraceptives. This was a problem because she would not let me near her precious pussy with an unclad penis. She was not willing to take a chance on getting pregnant.
"Damn it," she said as she snuck under the covers.
"What is it?"
"I left the box of condoms at home."
I got a glimpse of her naked form just before she disappeared beneath the sheet. Seeing her sexy body had already caused the little guy to awaken and proudly strut his four inches.
"I could go get some." I didn't want to beg, but I was getting close.
"No, it's too late now, nothing will be open."
Scooting next to her, I reached out and caressed her thigh. Her skin felt soft and smooth. My tongue ran across my lips.
"Even though we can't do it," she said, "you can have your fun if you want."
It was interesting how licking her had become my fun. She was the one getting the pleasure, but we had both gotten accustomed to her pleasure being mine that it was easy to go along with her reasoning.
My hand covered one of her rather ample breasts and I squeezed gently. Her nipple sprang to attention as I played with it and she leaned back on the pillow with her eyes closed.
My lips circled her other nipple and bit softly. She moaned. My tongue circled around the breast, my teeth nipping gently and my tongue flicking.
After a full five minutes on each breast I worked my way south, pausing to tickle her belly button with my probing tongue.
As I ventured farther, I felt the sheet cover my head as she settled in. I was her toy, being used for her satisfaction. There was a calmness that settled over my mind and I felt that this was where I belonged.
My head rested between her thighs and I explored the area where the legs met, licking the sweat that settled there. My tongue snaked up and toyed with her clit, rousing it then slipping away to lick other spots. Once in a while my tongue slipped inside to taste her juices, then I would tease her clit once again. The art of teasing became my goal.
Using all the skill I had, I slowly caressed, tactfully licked, and gently sucked her clit. Pausing as I felt her orgasm near, I moved down and with all the adoration I could muster, I mouthed her pussy before penetrating it with my long tongue as far as I could reach. Her juices coated my appreciative appendage.
Finally, unable to withstand my oral attacks any longer, Kathy arched her back and yanked my head deep into her cavern.
She came fiercely, yanking on my hair as she did. The pain only added to my pleasure.
As she floated down from her climax I remained glued to her pussy, licking gently on her little button. This was a special treat to me as I always enjoyed the aftermath of her intense climax, soothing her with gentle caresses of my tongue.
Scooting up alongside her I held her tenderly, cuddling with her body against mine. My little guy pressed against her thigh, anxious for a little attention.
For a moment, I entertained the thought she might return the favor and go down on me, giving me some release in a way I have never experienced. Kathy, as well as many other girlfriends, had never given me a blowjob. My little fellow thought this might be a good time to start.
Kissing her shoulder, I stroked her breast, teasing the nipple by rubbing it between my fingertips. My hand left her breast and traveled south. Kathy is especially sensitive on the inner side of her thighs so I zeroed there with my fondling.
It seemed to be working as she moaned in response to my caresses. While I was forming the words to ask her to return the favor she reached out and grabbed my head, pushing it down. She didn't stop shoving until I was back at the shrine.
Oh well, I thought, maybe if I please her again she will return the favor.
Besides, licking her luscious pussy was what I lived for. So I began again the delicious task of pleasing her with my mouth.
My oral fixation goes back a long ways, back to when I first met the woman who would become my wife. She showed me how to please a woman, then when she saw my eagerness, developed my natural craviings. Being a smart and confident lady, my ex-wife used this fetish against me, training me to the point where I was completely pussy-whipped. She realized I would do almost anything to feast at her succulent cunt. Eventually, another story, I became a slave to her pussy and soon, licking her was the extent of our sexual encounters. I found out later that her need for cock was taken care of by her black lover, the man she replaced me with.
Sadly, I was broken-hearted when my wife left me for her stud and I vowed never again to submit to a woman's charms and relinguish my role as a man. Yet here I was, once again, eagerly responding to my girlfriends needs over mine. Guilt is a funny thing when you're a masochist at heart. Instead of guiding one to change his ways and travel on a righteous path, in my case, it simply adds to the pleasure. Instead of regretting my role, I relished the place at her pussy as her good servant.
The night was a success for both of us. Kathy came five times before she rolled over and fell asleep, leaving me excited, frustrated, and a face full of pussy juice. Fitfully, I fell asleep too, right where I was, tempting the fates. The nearness of her pert little ass in front of me was almost too much to resist.
As I listened to Kathy's soft snores, I faced a new dilemma. Literally.
It was one thing to be devoted to her pussy, relinguish my manly rights in order to service her there, but doing what I was contemplating would be something else all together.
From experience I knew that once you lick a woman's ass there is no turning back. Being pussy-whipped in a relationship was bad enough. If I showed how low I was willing to go, that is, becoming her ass-licker, I could very well threaten the entire nature of the relationship. There would be a good chance I would never fuck her again, let alone assume any kind of equality in the relationship.
Ass-licking is viewed by a lot of woman as disgusting, the lowest a man can go. Once she knows you love to lick her ass they seem to lose all respect for you, like it's the most depraved act in the world, which is probably why I need it so much.
Even with her gorgeous derrriere right in front of me, somehow I managed to restrain myself and kept my face out of her crack. Eventually, I fell asleep.
She woke up before I did and seemed to further test my resolve. In that state between dreams and reality I felt the soft skin of her ass brush against my face. My tongue instinctively explored the smooth texture of her slopes.
"Yuck!" She jumped out of bed. "You sick pervert! You're not going to stick your tongue up there, are you?"
Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I gradually realized what had happened.
"Of course not. I was dreaming. I thought I was at your thighs, in the front. I thought I was about to lick you there." I pointed at her pussy.
She didn't seem convinced and stared at me in disbelief. Wanting to take her mind off what I almost did, I dropped to my knees in front of her and grabbed her hips. I needed to take her mind off my perverted desires.
Pulling her forward into my face, I tried to lick. With her legs held tight together all I tasted was her pubic hair. The hair was matted from the combination of my saliva and her juices from the night before.
My desperation to turn her, take her mind off my need to kiss her ass, caused me to groan. My frustration and need for her pussy on my face was becoming overpowering. My tongue sought access to her little knob that was hiding from me, protected by her strong legs. She let me play around for a while as though she was amused with my futile antics and enjoyed the desperation I was showing to lick her pussy.
Looking back on it, this servile act might given her the idea of gaining power.
With a triumph snort, she held my head and edged to the bed. As she sat she parted her legs, granting me access to her precious area. My tongue was rewarded with her taste. It was different, mainly because she had not cleaned herself from the previous nights scents. The odor was more pungent, stronger yet still stimulating and I worked feverishly to get her to cum.
Moments later, finished, she pushed me away and strode to the bathroom.
There I was, still on the floor, on my knees, a position, unfortunately, I was well accustomed to.
I'm still not quite sure how she did it, but we never did find a place that sold rubbers all vacation. So night after night, the pattern continued, me going down on her again and again until she was satisfied and fell asleep.
She even kidded me about it at dinner one night.
"If you're good, I'll let you lick all night." She was referring to the choice of restaurants we could go to. I knew that the more expensive a place, the longer I could lick her. I chuckled, trying to make her statement sound like a joke, but I knew she was not joking and picked the most expensive restaurant.
She just smiled as we entered.
She was showing a natural ability to take control and we both recognized it.
Unfortunately, at least as far as an equal-like relationship, my masochistic streak was getting stoked and fueled. It was growing ever stronger and I couldn't help getting very excited at the way things were going, even though I knew what the eventual outcome would be.
In the back of my mind, my conscience reminded me how I ended up the last time someone took control. I left the relationship broke, cuckolded, humiliated, emasculated, and being used and abused like a virtual slave. The fact that remembering those days only caused me to get hard didn't help.
If anyone did, I knew the risks of what happens when a woman's pussy controls you. Eventually, they find someone else to give it to.
About the fourth night of the vacation, I was so horny I found myself rubbing against the bed as I ate her out just like I used to do with my wife. I had to use all of my willpower to stop because I didn't want to cum while serving her, humping the bed like a teenager while being used. I knew what that surrender would mean.
So, somehow, I held back, hoping I would be allowed to enter her again.
After she fell asleep, I got up to wash. Usually I left the residue of her on my face, relishing her scent, falling asleep with the taste and smell of her lingering in my mouth. But I had to relieve myself.
Licking the juices from my lips as I walked into the bathroom I reflected on the current situation.
How did I let myself slip back into a one-sided relationship? What was in my nature that I always ended up with my face between a woman's legs and my cock far away, useless and unused? Why did I need to display this slave-like behavior just for a taste of a pussy?
Why did I always end up surrendering my role as a man?
Like always, the questions refused to be answered other than my need to debase myself. I splashed water on my face and washed. Drying, I noticed her discarded panties on the floor. Even though I knew better, I couldn't take my eyes off of the pink, silky material crumpled so innocently.
Ignoring a warning from my somewhere in the back of my mind, I picked up the delicate article from the floor. My conscience was screaming at me not to touch them, as if knowing the feel of the soft fabric would lead to my ruin.
Somewhere I knew the risk of submitting to my panty fetish was dangerous. It was one more step down the road of depravity.
As in the past, the consequences could be disastrous.
Despite the warnings, the panties found a way to my face. Inhaling deeply, Kathy's scents drifted to my nostrils.
There was a strong odor in the crotch. I recognized it at once; it was the perfume of her wonderful pussy.
Like a shot of heroin, the odor quickly overpowered me, filling me with a lust much like the rush of a drug.
As if experiencing a Pavlovian response, I hardened. After a few deep breaths, I removed the sweet smelling fabric from my face and placed the soft, silky panties around my cock. The effect was instantaneous. Everytime my little guy came into contact with the soft, smooth fabric of panties, he got excited. I stroked, once, then twice.
After weeks of frustration, the poor soldier couldn't stand it and exploded, spewing his entire contents into the underwear.
Embarrassed, I rinsed out the panties and dried them with the hair dryer, hoping Kathy would not hear the noise.
"This is not good," I mumbled as I dropped the panties back to the floor. "First, I'm becoming a virtual pussy-slave, and now I'm succumbing to my need for women's clothing, particularly panties.
"Why am I so weak?"
Vowing never to repeat the episode with the panties, I snuck into bed and fell into a fitful, guilty sleep.
The next morning, I watched Kathy as she picked up her panties from the floor. She seemed to notice something, like they were somehow different and examined them thoroughly. Finally she tossed them into the dirty clothes collection.
Breathing a sigh of relief, I relaxed. "I can't let her know."
I stared at the ceiling. "If she finds out..." I tried to imagine what she might do. "She would either throw me out as some kind of pervert or recognize my behavior as submissive and take advantage of it.
"Either way, I don't want to go down that path again." Shaking my head, I felt the little guy awakening. "Stop it. Don't betray me."
Somehow I managed to control myself and didn't repeat the indiscretion with her panties again during the vacation, even though part of me ached to. Instead, every night I ended between her legs, pleasing her pussy with my mouth as I rubbed myself against the bed.
The problem was that I knew this role too well. Just the way it happened with my wife, I adjusted to the ritual and lost myself in the subjecting part of the situation.
Once, after a three orgasm session, I brought up the possibility of her returning the favor. After a not so friendly chuckle, Kathy dismissed the notion as not even worthy of her consideration. She looked at me like she was disgusted with the idea so I didn't ask her again.
Overall, she seemed to enjoy the vacation. Being treated as a Queen has its benefits and she took full advantage of them. Frankly, as long as I got my oral fix between her legs, I was happy with the outcome, too.
On returning home, I did a quick search for the box of condoms. My excitement was at an all time high. Once I got my hands on the the slippery rubbers, I hoped I could put the little guy back in her sweet pussy.
They were nowhere to be found.
After searching everywhere I asked what happened to them. She said she threw them out the week before because she was afraid they had expired and weren't good anymore.
Her explanation mystified me. I never heard of rubbers expiring, but didn't argue. There was a drug store nearby.
She stopped me before I left, explaining she had a yeast infection and we couldn't do it for a while anyway. This took me off guard because I was unaware of her condition and I asked her how long it would be before we could do it again. She just shrugged, telling me she would let me know.
Thinking it over later, I asked her why oral sex was all right but not regular sex. She gave me that same look I got when I asked her for a blowjob. Shaking her head at me like I was a total idiot, I figured there must be a good reason. I just didn't know what it could be.
So we continued our one-sided sex affair.
That night after five delicious orgasms, she fell into a deep, satisfied sleep. As I watched her slumber, I knew I wouldn't be able to stop myself.
As stealthy as a cat burglar, I snuck into the bathroom.
Kathy hadn't done the laundry from the trip yet. Digging through the pile of dirty clothes I pulled out two pairs of her used panties. Locking the door, I slipped on the first pair and examined my cute butt in the mirror. With one pair glued to my face, I inhaled her scents. I slipped the pair off and wrapped it around my cock. While jerking off I imaged myself wearing the panties and feasting on her succulent cunt.
Within seconds, I exploded.
After that, we fell into the same pattern I had developed with my ex. Our physical relationship consisted my mouth and tongue glued to her pussy. I wasn't complaining because part of me, the masochistic part, relished the subservient position. The male ego part I simply buried.
Like in the past, it wasn't only at bedtime that we engaged in our one-sided affairs. She would summon me any time she felt in the mood to take the edge off, as she liked to call my oral undertakings. We could be watching a movie and she would suddenly beckon with a finger and I would kneel to the floor to service her while she continued to watch the show. Once, she was talking to someone at work, a guy I think, and point to the floor so I could lap her while she returned to the conversation.
Once, I accidentally walked in on her while she was sitting on the toilet. The reason I entered was because the door was ajar so I didn't think she was in the room. Later, reflecting on the coincidence, I thought she might have planned the encounter. Anyway, even though I apologized profusely she just sat there and finished. Listening to the tinkling, I tried to turn away. As I brushed my hair, already forgetting why I came in, I glanced at her in the mirror.
With a wicked grin on her face she watched me carefully. The last sounds ended, she just sat there, smiling smugly, not bothering to wipe herself.
"This is your lucky day," she said. "It's treat time. Come and get it."
"What," I stammered.
"You heard me. Get your face down there between my legs and lick me. " She waved at her pussy.
This was a defining point in our relationship. Her respect for me was diminishing, obviously. Her words were demeaning, yet exciting. My stature, what was left of it, was about to be reduced even further.
Part of me knew I shouldn't give in, recognizing if I obeyed, that it was a big step down the path of utter and total depravity. We both knew she was starting to become more demanding, more assertive. We both knew she was taking complete control over our relationship.
I knew I should say no, maybe even stand up to her. The last vestige of male pride shouted out to slap her. If I ever wanted to be her equal again, I should yank her into the bedroom and fuck her brains out.
Whichever way I chose, I knew this would be an irrevocable step in our relationship, even a fatal one.
She sat there waiting, a cat-like grin on her face like she already knew what I was going to do.
Slowly, like she was teasing me, making me wait for it, she spread her legs apart. Transfixed by the sight of the treasure I adored, I fought with myself. Don't do this, I cautioned myself, fight it, don't surrender to her pussy, be a man.
Her legs widened, her glorious pussy shone right in front of me, tiny drops of liquid still hanging on the dark hairs.
She won't respect me after I do this, I warned myself.
You'll lose her.
The battle raged inside.
I stared at her beautiful, nasty pussy.
I took a step forward. Then another.
Standing in front of her, I lowered myself to my knees. Glancing up, I saw her smile. It was a smile of victory.
Leaning in, my tongue licked the droplets from the hairs. In one instant, I lost the battle. My pride, my manhood were forsaken, cast off forever.
Hearing her chuckle, I lowered myself into her womanhood, licking and tasting her. She laughed triumphantly as I felt a little flow of liquid enter my mouth. Knowing it was probably a small release of her piss, I choked it down, acknowledging she had lost all respect for me now.
How can you respect someone who drinks their piss? Recognizing what she thought of me now only served to cement my need for her. The more depraved the incident, the more I needed it and relished in it.
I lapped at her until she gushed with a lovely orgasm.
After that incident, there was no doubt about the status of our relationship. Kathy didn't even pretend to treat me like an equal. I was now nothing more than her slave.
A bright girl, Kathy found many ways of enjoying my servitude. Sometimes during dinner, which I fixed, she would announce that my meal was waiting for me under the table. Humiliated and beaten, I would sink to the floor and feast on her succulent cunt while she calmly ate her supper. After her climax she would slide her half-chewed food under the table for me to eat on the floor like a dog, often smearing the remains with her bare foot and making me lick the residue from it.
Watching television she would comment about how hot the guy in the show was and pull me onto the floor to lick her as she watched. I would hear her say things like how good that guy could make her feel, how she would love to feel his giant cock in her neglected pussy.
I knew it would not be too long before she took that next step, cuckolding me, but still I licked her beautiful pussy like my life depended on it.
Soon, every night, after she fell asleep, I would lock myself in the bathroom, don a pair of her used panties and give into my need to relieve myself. My poor little guy was once again growing accustomed to the sensual seduction of panties. My hand, covered by her sweet silk, was the only way I found pleasure. Unfortunately, my little warrior seemed quite content with the arrangement. Even though he was no longer wanted or desired by her, the wee fellow seemed quite content.
Having given in to the power of her pussy, the feel of her panties, and allowing her to control every sexual act I knew it wouldn't be long before I took the next step. And the next step was always fatal.
It wouldn't be long before I graduated to becoming her lowly ass-licker.
Worshipping a woman's ass has special meaning to me. Symbolically, it clearly demonstrates the very nature of humbling oneself to another in a very degrading way. In society, is there anyone lower than an ass-licker? Not in my mind. The act clearly shows the depraved subservience of one to another, a way of relinguishing all power and giving control to a superior being.
Regardless of the reason, it's a passion I can't control.
I call it the ultimate submission.
Ignoring the consequences, I tried to reach the blessed spot while I was busy at her pussy, elevating her hips, which allowed me access to explore beneath her cunt, searching the crevice of her ass. As I snaked lower and lower she stopped me short.
"No way," she said. "Not unless you never want to kiss me again." Pausing, I considered her ultimatum. "I will never put my mouth on lips that touched somebody's ass."
Believing at the time I might maintain some equality in the relationship, with deep disappointment, I returned to her pussy.
The next night I found myself exploring the forbidden area again. It seemed no matter the consequences I couldn't resist the temptation of her gorgeous butt. My ex-wife had taught me too well. There was no deeper surrender to a woman, no greater feeling of depravity than kissing her asshole. There was no finer humiliation than wanting to worship a majestic derriere.
In the end, the lust was too great for me; the need to degrade myself with this perverted act was beyond my control.
As I poked around down there, Kathy stopped my efforts again, reminding me of the conditions.
"If you kiss my ass, which you seem to want to do, you can never kiss my lips again. So how badly do you need to do this?" I paused, then my tongue snaked out and touched the area right between the pussy and ass. "Is your need to kiss my ass more important than anything else?
I paused again. But my traitorous tongue licked again.
She snorted in disgust. "What kind of a man would even want to kiss a woman's ass? Don't you know how demeaning and disgusting that is?"
Even while belittling me, even while telling me what a fool and creep I was, my tongue sought its goal. She actually laughed when she felt the penetration.
"An ass lover, imagine that, I'm living with an ass lover," she said. She grabbed my head and yanked it to her pussy. "Finish me first, then you can have your turn."
After satisfying her with my mouth she rolled over. All of a sudden I had complete access to her ass, at least with my tongue. That's all it took.
Worshipping her glorious hind quarters, feverishly, I rubbed against the bed, climaxing in total humiliation, as I succumbed to this act of depravation.
Once again, it was confirmed in my psyche, nothing is more degrading and therefore more exciting than worshipping a dominant female's ass.
That became our pattern, as I was never allowed near her pussy again with anything except my servile mouth. We stayed together for another couple of months with me becoming more and more addicted to her panties, her pussy, her ass and her control. She played with me like a toy, making me do whatever she wanted. But, the way it always happens to me with women, she seemed to grow tired of our games.
It started falling apart completely one night when I came home to find her getting dressed and ready to go out.
"Where are you going?"
"Out," she replied.
"With who?"
She gave me a look of disdain. "With some friends."
When I was married, my wife cheated on me the same way, going out with 'friends'. In my mind I knew Kathy meant the same thing.
"Can I lick you before you go?" I asked. All pretense of sharing equality in the relationship had ended long ago. My pathetic plea only reinforced my lowly standing between us.
Kathy snorted and shook her head. "Sure, knock yourself out. Get me all hot and ready."
Despite her warning, I was never one to turn down a good licking, and in desperation I was thinking I could take the edge off and she might not feel the need to find another man. On my knees, I performed my best oral lovemaking.
Moments later, she pulled up her panties and headed for the door. Not a word was spoken.
Still kneeling, I watched as she left for her date.
Some part of me knew Kathy and I would not remain a couple much longer. Maybe the thought was enough for me to break the last barrier.
Not being able to stand the thought of her screwing some other guy, I found myself in the bathroom trying on some of her clothes. I hadn't fully dressed up since the divorce.
A flashback resounded in my mind. The last time I wore women's clothes was when I became a French maid for my wife and her black boyfriend, serving all of their kinky needs.
Despite the way things turned out in the past, I couldn't resist the pull of the forbidden lust.
"Kathy is probably picking out some stud to do to her what I can't." I paused in thought. "Someone with a big cock." My little guy hardened, betraying his need to be cuckolded.
Setting aside the images of Kathy in the arms of another, I donned her panties, pulling on her nylons, and then slipping on a slinky dress. Feeling she wouldn't be back until late, I even dared to put on some make-up.
When I was all dolled up, I glanced in the mirror. My frame was not condusive to femininity so I looked like some cheap slut. Nonetheless, the sight turned me on.
Holding another pair of used panties over my engorged cock, I started stroking while fantasizing about Kathy getting screwed royally by some big hunk. It didn't take long. For some reason, becoming a cuckold filled me with a sense of lust that was completely overpowering.
After cleaning up, I went to bed. Kathy came home late, and my mind immediately wondered what she had done.
She tried to be quiet, maybe hoping I wouldn't wake up. I felt the bed move as she slipped into bed, nude as usual.
I waited until I heard the sounds of her deep breathing. My little guy was straining in the confines of my pajamas.
Although my conscience screamed that I should leave her, I couldn't help myself. Faced with the very real possibility that she had found a real man, I couldn't resist any longer.
Crawling under the covers, I snuck down to her delicious pussy. Listening to the sounds of her deep sleep, I spread her legs apart. Wriggling between them, my tongue sought its goal.
A single taste told me all that I needed to know. Her hair was matted.. The sticky cum from another man was evident everywhere. Nonetheless, my tongue licked again, diving deep inside her pussy.
Kathy wakened and tried to push me away, but I held on, my tongue licking in frenzy.
"Oh well, what the hell, if you licked my ass, you'll probably have no problem with what you find there. Enjoy, I sure did."
After that night Kathy treated me even worse as she finally had lost all respect for me. I tried to keep the relationship together by doing all of the chores around the house, buying her gifts, doing anything she wanted but it was a losing battle.
Soon she was openly flaunting her fling or flings with other men. She asked me how she looked when she dressed like a slut before a date, both of us knowing she would be fucked royally that night.
When I tried to come on to her, she laughed at me. When I appeared naked one night she looked at me as if I was some sort of freak.
After her dates, when she came home, she straddled my head so I could get all of the cum from her better. She even told me not to eat on the nights she went out saying she would provide all of the nourishment later.
And every night I dressed in her clothes, turning myself into the slut I thought she had become, imaging her getting ravished and then shooting into her/my panties like I had no control over myself.
The relationship ended finally when I walked in on her fucking some guy in our bed. I stood and watched as he plowed into her over and over as she moaned like she had never been fucked before.
She saw me standing there and just gave me a wicked smile, enjoying the fuck and relishing my humiliation. Reaching under the pillow she threw me a pair of her panties, the ones I came into the night before. She knew what I had been doing. She told me to go get dressed and come back out and wait on them.
Humbled, yet excited, I went into the bathroom and started dressing like the woman I had become. While dressing, I jerked off a little listening to her moaning in passion. Walking into the room clad like a woman, even a poor imiatation of one, was total humiliation. I knew she made me do it so the both of them would get a good laugh but I did it anyway. There's something inside me that seems to need this degradation, this humiliation, this complete embarrassment.
The guy burst into laughter when he saw me, telling her that he hadn't believe her when she told him what I would do. He laughed but he didn't stop pounding her from behind. Kathy called me over to the side of the bed and reached out for my hand. She pulled me down by her side so I could see her face as she was getting drilled.
Holding my hand tightly I watched the look of rapture flow over her as he touched depths I could only dream of reaching. The entire time we had been together she had never looked so fulfilled. Maybe that was the idea, for me to realize that truth.
Watching closely, I couldn't help envying his mammoth utensil ram in and out of the cherished pussy I adored. The only time I had ever seen any male organ that huge was on my wife's lover. I wondered how he could fit it all in to her.
After they finished the screwing they just plopped on the bed, both dripping with cum.
"You thought making him dress as a slut was bad, watch what I'm going to make him do now," Kathy said.
"I can't wait," the stud replied, wrapping his arm over her shoulders and reaching down to squeeze a nipple.
"Come here, sissy, "Kathy said to me. "I want you to lick. Clean my pussy of his cum. You're used to his taste, you've been drinking it every night, so it shouldn't be a problem."
All pride had long since vanished and I became the servile slave they wanted. Dropping to my knees, I dove into her pussy like I was starving, the need to taste her overwhelming the blow to my pride. After she exploded into my mouth she told me to clean him off.
Throughout all my perversions, I had never touched another man's penis and didn't really want to now. Actually, I didn't know what to do. They both watched me, waiting patiently for me to obey her. Once again, the need to humiliate myself conquered whatever reservations I had. The last little bit of pride I had died as I put his cock into my mouth and licked it clean.
They roared in laughter.
After she kissed him goodbye, she told me to follow her to the bathroom.
"Ok, sissy, this is the last time you get to taste my pussy. Bob is moving in and you're moving out."
"But, Kathy..." I said, before she cut me off.
"It shouldn't come as a surprise. I need more than you can give. Besides, I need a man, not a ass-licking sissy. You're not a man. Your little thing does nothing for me. I need a good fuck and you, obviously, can't give it to me." She sat on the toilet and pointed at the floor in front of her.
"Get to your knees and perform your duty, sissy. Lick me as I piss."
She called me more names as I licked her, releasing a flow of her golden piss into my mouth. She called me names like panty slave, cum licker, and worthless dick. After she climaxed she took me back to the bedroom and had me tongue her ass. The taste of sperm leaked out and I knew he had fucked her there. Her laughter was all the proof I needed. More shame poured through my veins as I orgasmed on the bed at the same time as she did, tasting her lovers and her juices all mixed up together. She laughed when she saw what I had done, climaxing while eating her out, cleaning up her studs cum. The last words I heard her utter as I left were "worthless dick.'
Unpacking in a new place I found some crusty panties of hers. A note was attached telling me that she wore them after a tremendous fuck from her boyfriend.
"Suck them clean, then wear them until they're worn out. Thanks for everything; it's too bad your tongue is bigger than your cock. You'll make some girl, or guy, a decent wife someday. See you around dickless."
