The LIAR, the WITCH, and my wife’s new WARDROBE
BOOKS ONE, TWO, AND THREE:
COLLECTION
by
CHARLES P. LINGHAM
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2016 by Charles P. Lingham
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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Table of Contents
BOOK ONE: THE FUTANARI CURSE
Randy used to have the biggest dick in the locker room, now he doesn't even have the biggest dick at home!
When the misogynistic Randy has an affair with a woman who turns out to be a witch, she curses his wife with a cock of her own and a rampaging libido. Both will go away in a month if she can resist masturbation, meaning it’s up to the homophobic Randy to give her a hand… and maybe a mouth.
Prelude
DAY 1 - SATURDAY
DAY 2 - SUNDAY
BOOK TWO: THE ADJUSTMENT
As Randy's wife Donna adjusts to life with her new penis, she's discovering that it has its own lusty appetite. The witch who cursed her with it said that it would go away after a month if she could resist masturbating it. Although this seemed easy at first, Donna is forced to turn to her homophobic husband for help, and discovers that the dick has a unique way of inspiring willingness in others.
DAY 3 - MONDAY
DAY 4 - TUESDAY
DAY 6 - THURSDAY
DAY 7 - FRIDAY
DAY 8 - SATURDAY
DAY 9 - SUNDAY, EARLY MORNING
BOOK THREE: THE ESCAPE
Randy is doing some quick thinking. The last thing he wants is to "do something gay" with his wife's new cock, even though, by having an affair with a witch, he is responsible for the curse that gave it to her. His once frigid wife now has a sex drive that would put a teenaged boy to shame, and Randy is on the receiving end of it. How much more can he take before he finally makes a break for it?
DAY 9 – SUNDAY, MID-MORNING
DAY 12 - WEDNESDAY
DAY 14 - FRIDAY
DAY 15 - SATURDAY
DAY 16 - SUNDAY
DAY 17 - MONDAY
The LIAR, the WITCH, and my wife’s new WARDROBE
BOOK ONE:
the FUTANARI CURSE
by
CHARLES P. LINGHAM
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2016 by Charles P. Lingham
PRELUDE
There was a time when my wife, Donna, was as meek and mild as your average church mouse.
Maybe even more so.
Over the years, I’ve been known to take advantage of her lack of backbone to get my own way, but I certainly wasn’t the only one. I’ve seen friends, family, co-workers, and even pushy telemarketers walk all over her. Regularly.
But that was before the curse. Before she took control.
Now, before I risk getting ahead of myself, let me provide some context…
I met Donna in high school. I’d like to tell you that I was attracted by her smile, or her eyes, or her long dark hair, or even her sharp-as-a-tack intellect, but who are we kidding? I only had two reasons for asking her out in the first place, and they were both bouncing down the hallway, pulling her behind them that fateful morning in Grade 11 when I told the football buddies gathered around my locker that I was going to be the first person in high school to play with Donna’s titties. Yes, it was an arrogant, even masochistic thing to say, but I figured that, as the newly appointed captain of the school’s football team, I got my pick of the girls in that school, and naturally, I wanted the one with the biggest tits. I was asserting my own version of Primae Noctis (even if none of my teammates knew what that was) to be the first to explore the uncharted territory that was Donna McGee’s awesome chest.
I told my buddies at the time that I would of course report back to them with detailed descriptions of my great mammarian adventure, and might even be able to share pictures that I would, of course, annotate with “circles and arrows on the back of each one explaining what each one was to be used as evidence against me.”
Perhaps predictably, none of the jocks got the reference I was making to the classic Arlo Guthrie song at the time but, as I was soon to find out, Donna would have known what I was talking about, even if she wouldn’t have approved of the inspiration behind it.
Now, in a stereotypical world, and with me the captain of the football team, you would have probably expected that Donna would have been a cheerleader. But, no. At the time, Donna had been the very definition of a wall flower: a shy, diminutive student, the only Asian girl in our predominantly-white, mid-western high school. Her only claim to fame in her teens, beyond her massive mammaries that was, was being editor of the yearbook.
I didn’t care about that at the time of course. I had a reputation to preserve, and my buddies were watching my every move, so naturally, I pulled out all the stops in pursuing Donna. It took some work, and a little “help” from her sister Rebecca, but when Donna finally did agree to go out with me, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that we actually hit it off! It turned out that we shared the same love of geeky movies and classic rock, folk, and Americana music.
In time, when I finally got my wish to see her tits, I wasn't disappointed. They were spectacular. To top things off, she had the most sensitive nipples too. I could play with those thick brown nubs for hours, and it would drive her absolutely fucking wild. She never managed to go over the edge mind you - blame her conservative upbringing for that. In fact, she didn't have her first real orgasm until about two years into our relationship, but I didn't care so much, because she was always very receptive to my needs.
At least in the beginning.
We got married right after high school, and moved to the big city together. I had hoped that putting some distance between Donna and her ultra-conservative foster parents might help loosen her up, but no such luck. If anything, even after everything they had done to her over the years, she still felt a considerable amount of guilt—especially in association to all things sexual—so that, over time, our sex life actually got worse.
And so it was that, after about five years of marriage, I began to tire of the same old thing. The sex was good, it was just neither frequent enough, nor adventurous enough. The lights always had to be off while we did it, and if there happened to be a wet spot on the bed afterwards, then we had to change all the sheets to crisp fresh ones before we could finally go to sleep! I rarely saw her naked anymore, and she seemed to have developed an allergy to my cum.
In fact, it got to the point that I saw more
female flesh in the neighbour's back yard than I did in my own home! The Lintons, who lived right next door, had a pool, and you could get an ideal view of it from the window at the midway landing of the stairs leading to the upper floor of our house. Their daughter, Melanie, had just turned eighteen, and frankly, it was about time! She'd already been looking this age for about two years, and now that she was finally legal, I could look without feeling guilty. That teenager had one of the hottest bodies I have ever seen, and she never seemed to wear anything except string bikinis, even when she was doing her Yoga on a mat beside the pool.
This constant titillation, combined with my wife's frigidity, is what finally broke me, and caused me to start looking for a little something on the side.
I had needs! I was a man! It wasn't my fault that my wife wasn't giving me enough to keep me satisfied!
If I'd only have known then what havoc my infidelity would wreak.
back to top
DAY 1
SATURDAY
That first Saturday morning found me lingering on the landing watching Melanie take off her robe and adjust her tiny, dental floss bikini. Downstairs, I could hear a knock on the door followed by the sound of my wife's footsteps as she walked across the living room floor to answer it. A moment later, I heard two voices talking excitedly before the door closed again. I recognized the second voice as that belonging to Donna's best friend Gary, a gay twinkie of a man.
Now, don't get me wrong, Gary is a nice enough guy, and it's great that Donna has a male friend that I don't have to worry about, but I have always been disgusted by his choice of lifestyle. I'm as tolerant as the next guy, and don't really care what kind of fruity sex he gets up to in his own bedroom, but you'd never catch me doing anything as revolting as that. I'd always assumed that the reason Donna had been so willing to befriend a gay man was as some kind of rebellion against her homophobic parents. Shame she didn't rebel by loosening up about sex instead. It coulda saved us both a lot of discomfort.
Donna and Gary were about to head out for a weekend away at a health spa. My wife had actually won the trip for two on the radio, and had initially asked if I wanted to go with her. I lied, telling her that I had some writing to catch up on, and suggested that she take Gary. The truth was, I had been waiting for just such an opportunity for a while now.
Suddenly, Donna was at the base of the stairs looking up at me. "Gary and I are about to leave Randy," she said, eyeing me on the landing knowingly, one eyebrow raised.
I tried to act nonchalant and pretend that I was in the process of walking up the stairs instead of leering out the window. "OK cool," I responded as I continued to ascend the steps in an obvious manner. "I'll be right down."
I was actually a bit surprised that Gary had come into the house instead of simply waiting in the car. One night a few months back, an uncharacteristically drunk Donna had revealed to me that Gary had a huge crush on me.
"He thinks yer hot," she had slurred.
At the same time, Donna had admitted that this fact had made her hesitant to bring Gary over because of how he was always throwing himself at me, something I'd never actually noticed. Truth be told, the thought of a man lusting after me was repugnant, but I wasn't above having a little fun with it. That's why, on the rare times that I did see Gary of late, I made sure he got an eyeful of a body that he would never, ever be able to touch, no matter how much he may have wanted to.
Once upstairs, I slipped into our bedroom, and quickly changed into some workout clothes that were skimpy enough to show off my well defined muscles as well as the very generous bulge in my shorts. I snickered at my own impudence as I headed down the stairs, catching a fleeting glimpse of a sun-bathing Melanie as I passed the window.
Briefly, I wondered why it was that I had never actually seen her swimming.
As I walked, I was mentally checking off the list of things I had to do this morning. Once Donna and her twinkie had left, I had exactly four and a half hours to disorganize this place enough to make it look like a believable bachelor pad. I had a woman coming over, and it wouldn't do to have her knowing that I was married.
I met Anatolia through a buddy of mine a few months back, and was immediately smitten with her. She was tall and lanky with dark, olive skin, and curly hair that reached all the way down to the middle of her back. With an accent I have never been able to place, I was immediately attracted to Anatolia's exotic nature. Months of going without satisfying sex with my wife had only steeled my resolve. I had to have that woman.
Anatolia didn't make it easy for me though. When I first made my attraction to her clear, she rebuffed me. Without a hint of irony in her voice, she told me that she came from a long line of clairvoyants, enchanters, and sorcerers, and that she had a sixth sense when she was being lied to. Naturally, I responded to this with an outright lie, swearing to her that I was being completely honest. When she failed to pick up on this deceit with her "powers", I dismissed her claim that she was some kind of witch. What a mistake that was.
Wooing Anatolia took quite a bit of convincing (even more than had Donna), and the pursuit was an arduous one to be sure. But, it had worked - eventually. My biggest challenge had been not laughing outright whenever she told me stories about her family's history with the arcane. It was obviously a complete load of hogwash but, if all I had to do to get into her panties was to feign interest in a few cockamamie stories, then I was up to the task.
Anatolia and I had been out on a few discrete dates over the last few weeks, and this was the weekend we were finally going to take it to the next level. Like I said though, Anatolia didn't know about my wife, so I literally could not wait to get Donna and her little pansy out the door.
"Hi Randy!" said that little pansy enthusiastically as I approached the front room.
"Gary," I said, deepening my voice a little in order to sound manlier. "Are you sure my wife's safe with you this weekend? You promise that you're a homo?"
That homo simply laughed in response, as my wife glowered at me from behind him. Donna knew exactly how I felt about her "friend", but I was careful not to push things too far lest I incur her wrath.
Gary stuttered some kind of response in that lilting, wispy voice of his that drove me nuts. He was practically sycophantic about it too! The little faggot didn't even know when he was being mocked!
As I neared the front door, I made an obvious action of noticing something on the floor beside the couch. "Oh, there they are," I said in the direction of a pair of sneakers. Then, turning away from Donna and Gary, I bent over at the waist to pick up the shoes, and took my time standing back up again. Behind me, I could feel Gary's eyes on my ass, undoubtedly enjoying the fact that the tight fitting spandex shorts I was wearing were leaving nothing to the imagination. I was pretty sure I could even heard him gurgling.
I grinned as I straddled the arm of the couch to put the shoes on. Donna was staring at me now, shaking her head slightly and, likely because she knew what was coming next—that I was going to make a big show of spreading my legs to put on my shoes—pulled at Gary's arm, urging him towards the door.
"We'd best get moving Gary," she insisted as she tugged his coat. Gary reluctantly acquiesced, but kept looking over his shoulder at me as he was pushed out the front door.
"I'll be back Sunday around seven," said Donna over her shoulder at me. "Text me if you need me."
"Have fun you two!" I called from the porch, waving in an exaggerated, loose-wristed manner. After a few minutes of watching them drive away in Gary's car, I shut the door and rubbed my hands together.
Now, to get to work.
Anatolia arrived right on time, about four hours later. I made sure that I didn't welcome her too inappropriately at the front door in case any of the neighbours were watching, and ushered her into a house that now looked a lot different than it had this morning.
"Nice place," offered Anatolia politely as she kissed my cheek. I was forced to agree. The place looked exactly as I'd always wanted
my house to look, had it not been for my wife's touch. I had moved a lot of my things upstairs from my man cave in the recroom where Donna had banished them. I now had some framed movie posters up on the wall, and the mantle was overflowing with my football trophies. Most of Donna's things were either locked up in her upstairs office, or stored away in boxes in the store room in the basement. It had been a lot of work, but I was convinced that Anatolia was worth it. In fact, within a few hours of her arrival, I had already been convinced that she had been.
Anatolia and I spent the afternoon chatting over multiple glasses of wine before cuddling as we watched a romantic movie. Then, I prepared dinner for her, and we ate it by candlelight. Afterwards, we moved to the loveseat where we began to fool around.
It had been years since I'd seen a woman reacting to my cock for the first time, and I forgot how much I missed it.
"Oh Goddess!" exclaimed Anatolia as she reached into my boxers to fish out my dick. "My, what a big cock you have," she continued playfully as she coaxed it to full mast with her fingers.
"You sound like the Big Bad Wolf," I told her.
"Oh, you have no idea," she replied, snuggling in closer to me and spreading her legs wider to allow me to slip a finger into her panties. Her pussy was warm, wet, and very inviting.
The Liar, the Witch, and My Wife's New Wardrobe: Books 1 to 3 Collection Page 1