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Womanized

Page 66

by Nikki Crescent


  She sunk back down, pressing her chest against mine. She brought her lips down to mine and then she kissed me. She slipped her tongue into my mouth and scooped out some of my cum. Then she used her tongue to smear the cum on both of our lips while we kissed. It was a messy make out, but Janie seemed to be into it. She was practically having a second orgasm as we rubbed our cum-covered mouths together. “Now swallow,” she said after swapping the cum back and forth a few times. I swallowed it all in one gulp and she did the same. Then she looked at me with a big smile and said, “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  “I’m just happy that you’re happy,” I said.

  She laughed. “Good answer.”

  Then she sprung to her feet and skipped off to the bathroom. I sat up slowly. I used a tissue to wipe my mouth. That lump was still filling up my throat. Did that really just happen? Was my wife really into it?

  I was starting to think that my wife was a bit of a naughty whore, with some pretty wild fantasies. And I suppose that was fine, as long as she was just a whore with me. Or was it fine? What if there were fantasies that I couldn’t fulfil for her? What if she wanted me to do things that I just couldn’t do?

  I carefully got up and walked over to her suitcase. I knew that I wasn’t supposed to look inside, but I couldn’t help myself. If she brought that wig along with her—what else did she bring? I unzipped her second suitcase carefully, and then I found myself looking at her pile of lingerie: dozens of sexy outfits. Did she bring those outfits for me?

  Under the outfits I found some sex toys. The most concerning was the long purple strap-on dildo. Why would she bring a strap-on? Was she hoping to fuck me in the ass with it? Would she be disappointed in me if I didn’t do it?

  Did she marry me because she knew that I was weak and she could manipulate me into doing all sorts of freaky stuff in bed? If so: was she right? Would I bend over for her while dressed in one of those lacy pieces of lingerie while she pegged me from behind? Just how far was I willing to go to make my horny wife satisfied?

  “Honey! Do you want to come and shower with me? The water is so nice!” she called out.

  I carefully zipped the suitcase back up. “Coming! I’ll be there in a second!” My heart was pounding. Who did I marry? What had I signed up for?

  CHAPTER VI

  The next morning, as soon as I was awake, I asked Janie to go out to the mall for me. “I’ll just stay here,” I said. “You can just pick me up a couple t-shirts and a pair of jeans. I’m a thirty-waist.”

  “No way. I’m not going alone. You want me to spend the day by myself on our honeymoon?” she said.

  “It’s not the day—it won’t take more than forty-five minutes. You can get everything in the first store you see—I don’t really care.”

  “No. If you want something from the mall, we can go together. We’re husband and wife now—we should do everything together.” She walked over to her suitcase—the special one that only seemed to have clothes for me inside (and some toys that she hadn’t revealed yet). She dug around and then she pulled out a little black dress with lacy embellishments on the arms. “Now I know that you said yesterday that you wouldn’t wear a dress, but I think this is your best bet.”

  I looked at my wife and took careful notice of her smile. I wanted to ask her if this was all a big setup, or just a string of coincidences. Why had the airline still not called? What was going on with my wine-stained clothes with the hotel staff?

  “Okay, fine. But as soon as we get a few t-shirts and a pair of jeans, we’re coming right back here so that I can change. I don’t want you to guilt me into spending the whole day out in this dress.” I took the dress from her.

  “I’ll go get the makeup ready,” she said. She went into the bathroom, and then I rushed over to the hotel phone. I carefully lifted it from the received and I dialled the front desk.

  “How can we help you today?” asked the voice on the other line.

  I held my hand up to my mouth, so that the sound of my voice wouldn’t make it to the bathroom. Then I whispered, “I sent down some clothes to be washed the other night. I was wondering if there was any progress on that.”

  “Clothes? I’m not aware of any clothes. What’s your room number?” I gave him the number, then he put me on hold while he checked with the cleaning ladies. During that time, Janie called out to ask how I was doing. I lied and said that I was almost changed. Then the man at the front desk came back. “We have no clothes, sir. I’m very sorry. I can ask the night team if they know of any clothes. Can I call you back tonight?”

  “Sure—fine.” I hung up the phone and quickly started putting on the little black dress. It was a tight squeeze, but the soft fabric felt nice against my skin. Janie had a pair of black panties left out for me, so I slid those on under the dress, keeping my package neatly secured between my legs.

  “Are you coming or what?” Janie called out. She poked her head out from the bathroom just as I was standing up straight.

  I forced a smile. “Just getting everything in place,” I said. Then I went to get my makeup done. She did a different style that day: a little bit more eyeliner and a little bit more eye shadow. She gave me a smoky look, with little cat-eye flicks. She made sure the mascara was dark, and then instead of lip-gloss, she used a deep red lipstick. “Isn’t this a bit over the top?” I asked. “Especially if we’re just coming right back to wash it all off…”

  “It’s a nice mall look,” she said with a big, glowing smile. Then she stepped back and looked at me. “You have to admit: you kind of like it.”

  My heart skipped a beat. “Excuse me? What did you just say?” I said.

  “You know, you should use a girlier voice—to get some practise, just in case I’m not around to speak for you.”

  “Why wouldn’t you be around to speak for me?” I asked.

  She shrugged her shoulders. “What if I have to use the bathroom while you’re trying on clothes?” she said.

  “I’m not going to try anything on,” I said. “I’m going to grab the first pair of jeans that I see, and then I’m going to grab two or three t-shirts from the first rack of t-shirts that I see. I’m going to take it all straight to the counter, hand the little Thai woman my credit card, and then we’re coming home. There won’t be any bathroom breaks and there won’t be any talking. Now get that wig on my head so that we can go and get this over with.”

  Then I watched as my wife’s smile sunk down into a frown. The glow in her eyes started to wane. She reached out and grabbed the wig. Without saying a word, she got it on my head.

  “I’m not yelling at you,” I said. “I just want to get on with our honeymoon.”

  “Yeah, of course,” she said with a defeated voice. “We’ll just zip over to the mall and then zip back over here. We’ll be done in no more than twenty minutes.” She forced a smile, but she wasn’t able to force that glow back into her eyes.

  I suddenly felt miserable. I felt like a complete villain. I was ruining my wife’s fun. And I was probably making her feel guilty as well. Maybe she felt responsible for my bag disappearing—and she was the one who accidentally spilled wine on my clothes. I wasn’t trying to make her feel like she was ruining my vacation. I wasn’t trying to make her feel bad. I just wanted her to be happy.

  “When I talk like this—how do I sound?” I asked, using my best girly voice.

  Then I saw a hint of that glimmer reappear in her eyes. A slight smile crept onto her face. “It’s good, but you could make your voice just a bit softer.”

  “Something more like this? How does this sound?” I asked, softening my feminine voice. Then I watched as that little smile grew just a bit bigger.

  “That sounds great. I think people will buy that.”

  We held hands as we left the hotel room. We passed that same young couple in the hallway. I noticed the man’s gaze drifting down our bodies. Once we were passed, Janie nudged me and giggled—she noticed the little peek as well. “He was looking at you,
” she said.

  “No he wasn’t. Was he?” I said.

  “Yeah. He was looking at those legs. I wish I had your legs,” Janie said.

  I looked over and saw that she was looking at me with a big grin. It was nice to see her smiling again. It was nice to see that bright glow in her eyes. Maybe I could suck it up for a couple of hours and wear her little dress and wig and makeup. Maybe I could make love to her later with the whole getup still on—if that would make her happy. I didn’t mind putting on an outfit from time to time for a bit of roleplaying. It wasn’t my thing, but I was willing to do just about anything to make my beautiful wife happy.

  We arrived at the mall and wandered around. It was surprisingly hard to find a pair of jeans that actually fit my slight body. We found a few t-shirts, which were cheap. I bought four, and then we finally found a pair of jeans. It was the last pair they had in my size, so I bought them, even though they were way more than I would have paid back home. “Do you want to go home and change now?” Janie asked. She had a warm smile on her face, hiding that tinge of disappointment that was still lingering from earlier.

  I looked up at the sky, which was cloudless and warm. “The weather is so nice right now—it would kind of be a shame to waste it by going all the way back to the hotel to change,” I said. “I guess I can just stay in the dress until the end of the day.”

  I watched as my wife’s face lit up. She tried her best to hide her smile, as if she didn’t want me to know that she loved seeing me in her clothes. Had she not yet realized that I’d caught on? Did she not realize how obvious she was being about it all?

  “Why don’t we go check out that temple we saw in the tour guide—Wat Mahathat, or whatever it was called?”

  We went to the temple together. It was across town. I wasn’t expecting it to be so big and so impressive. The place was crawling with tourists—lots of young men looking towards us. I watched one guy nudge his friend before pointing at us. That same duo approached us a few minutes later and sparked up a conversation. I even got a few words in with my feminine voice. “You girls are way too pretty to be checking out ancient ruins,” said one of the men.

  And then I found myself blushing, though I had no idea why. It wasn’t a real compliment for me. In fact, it should have been an insult. He was essentially telling me that I made a better woman than I did a man. I never got hit on as a man. No one ever told me that I was ‘pretty’. “You should come with us to this club later tonight. Pretty girls like you get drinks for free there. Though you’re probably used to getting drinks for free everywhere.”

  Janie looked at me with a big smile. I looked at her and tried not to giggle. “Okay,” I said. “That sounds like fun.” Janie’s eyes widened, as if she was shocked to hear me accept the invite. She reached down and grabbed my hand, squeezing tight as if to let me know that I was doing a good job in making her happy.

  Though as the guys walked away after giving us the time and place, my stomach turned. Did Janie know that I would make a convincing chick before she married me? Was that one of the reasons that she married me? Was her plan all along to feminize me, so she could have her very own femboy husband?

  “What’s the matter, babe?” Janie asked as we stood in front of a large Buddha statue.

  I looked into her eyes and saw that glimmer. I didn’t want to ruin that glimmer. I wanted her to be happy. But what about myself? Did her happiness mean that I was left unsatisfied? Did her happiness mean my constant humiliation? How far would this feminization nonsense go? Would I have to put on her clothes every night and every weekend? Would I have to spend the rest of the vacation constantly worried that someone would see through my disguise?

  We were in a foreign country, and how was I supposed to know how people would feel about me cross-dressing in public? We lived in a more-or-less tolerant place, but even still, people were mocked often for doing what I was doing now in Thailand.

  “Babe?” Janie said.

  “I think I’m just hungry,” I said, forcing a smile.

  “Well let’s go find some food,” she said, grabbing my hand again, showing off that smile that reminded me how out of my league she was.

  “Sure—sounds good,” I said. So we left the ancient temple and started exploring the area for a bite to eat. It was while we walking up a rugged rocky street that I realized how good I’d gotten at walking in heeled shoes, and I was starting to develop mannerisms: constantly flicking my hair back so it would stay out of my face, constantly tugging on the skirt of my dress so it wouldn’t ride up to expose my ass. For the past two days, I’d put so much effort into keep my back straightened in a feminine way—now I hardly had to think of it. It was becoming a habit. Even the delicate way that I tried to handle things with my hands—like restaurant menus, glassware, cutlery, and so on—was starting to become habit. I wanted to order myself a lager, but I didn’t want our server or the people around us to suspect that I might be a guy, so I ordered myself a fruity cocktail. And I had to admit: it was good. It was actually a whole lot more refreshing than a boring old beer.

  And I couldn’t help but wonder: if this charade carried on, how long would it be before this feminine disguise became a part of my personality?

  CHAPTER VII

  After our bite to eat, Janie decided it was a good time to head back to the hotel so that she could start dolling herself up for our night out. I had to pee badly. I’d been holding it for hours, afraid to use the girls’ bathroom just in case someone realized that I wasn’t the real deal. So as soon as we were back at the hotel room, I zipped into the bathroom and sat hard on the toilet with my panties around my thighs. I let out a long sigh of relief as my bladder finally emptied.

  Then, when I emerged from the bathroom, I saw my wife standing there, in a tight black lingerie one-piece, with that long purple strap-on dildo strapped around her waist. “We’ve got a bit of time to kill,” she said. Her cheeks were dark red as if she was embarrassed—and it probably was embarrassing, revealing a taboo fetish for the first time to her husband. She probably didn’t know that I already knew she would want to use that thing on me. And what could I do? I couldn’t turn her down. I couldn’t tell her that for the rest of her life, she wouldn’t get to experience one of her biggest fantasies.

  There was a thick lump in my throat. I was feeling terribly weak and humiliated, coming to grips with the fact that my wife possibly married me because I had a woman’s body. I didn’t know what to say. I knew I couldn’t turn her down, so maybe there was no point in saying anything. So I kept my mouth shut and I walked over to the bed. I crawled up on my hands and knees, and once my face was turned away from her, I closed my eyes and bit down on my tongue. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt. Maybe it wouldn’t feel like anything. It would probably be over in no time—and maybe Janie would find it boring and never want to do it again. Besides, it’s not like it was going to give her any pleasure. There was nothing penetrating or rubbing or vibrating against her. The only pleasure she could possibly get out of fucking me in the ass was the pleasure in seeing me humiliated.

  She crawled up on the bed behind me. She grabbed the skirt of my dress and flipped it up. Then she tugged my panties down to my knees. Using her hands, she spread my butt cheeks wide and ran the tip of her thumb over my tight hole. A fluttering of nervous energy rattled my heart. I took a deep breath. Then Janie bent forward and connected her lips with my asshole. She stuck out her tongue and started to lick with a rhythm, as if she was eating out a pussy. And maybe in her mind she was eating out a pussy. Maybe my asshole would be known as a pussy for the rest of our marriage.

  I remained still, keeping my eyes closed, trying to fight back the humiliation. I had to do this for her. I had to satisfy my wife, no matter what. I had to prove to all of my friends and family members that Janie and I really could work out in the end—that our union wasn’t just a big mistake.

  She got her tongue in deep, penetrating my hole, flicking and turning and exploring. A jolt of warm ene
rgy shot up my spine. Maybe it didn’t feel so bad. It kind of felt nice—though I was starting to feel a bit ticklish. I took a deep breath, and then I felt two of her fingers pushing into my hole, stretching me out just a little bit, getting me ready for the real deal. She sunk the fingers down to her knuckles, and then she started to pump. My legs were suddenly trembling. She was fingering my asshole as if it was a pussy, and I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised. “Do you like that?” she asked with a nervous grin in her voice.

  “Yeah,” I said, breaking my silent, even though I wasn’t sure whether or not I liked it. It was a weird feeling—something going up a hole that was designed for things to come out of. It didn’t quite feel natural, though at least it didn’t hurt.

  She pumped her fingers faster. I could hear a slight sloshing as her saliva squished in and out with her fingers. She was making sure that I was well lubricated before the big finale.

  I took another deep breath. Then I noticed the tingling in my cock. I looked down and saw that I was erect. My face suddenly became hot with embarrassment. I didn’t want my wife to see my throbbing erection. I didn’t want her to think that I was enjoying this, even though that’s exactly what I wanted her to think.

  I didn’t know what I wanted. I still hadn’t fully processed what was happening. The past few days had gone by so quickly. So much had changed in my life in just a couple of weeks—and so much had changed in just a few months. I was a single, loveless virgin before my last birthday. Now, I was married to a beautiful model and I was dressed like a little whore in Thailand, getting fingered in the ass by perfectly manicured fingers. I could feel the softened edges of Janie’s white fingernails sliding in and out of me.

  She reached around and grabbed my erect cock. My heart stuttered. Now she knew that I was aroused, and I still wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. She didn’t say anything. She just started to pump, still pumping my butthole with her fingers. The double-pleasure was growing quickly, making my mind spin in fast circles. She tightened that grip on my cock. “Come for me, baby,” she said with that sexy voice that drove me so crazy. “Come for me. I want your cum so badly.” She pumped faster and faster with both hands. Now my legs were trembling hard, buckling together. My arms were hardly able to support my weight. I started to groan and squirm. I shut my eyes and tried not to squeal.

 

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