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Story 03 – The Good Wife
Please take note! Adults Only Literature
The text in this story contains erotic material and is expressly written for adults only.
If you are an underage minor or offended by such material -or- if viewing this file is illegal in your locality, then leave, close or delete this file-story now.
This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead or otherwise is purely coincidental, etc.
Copyright 2004
****
"Ouch, take it easy," yelled Larry when I pulled the strip of material coated with dried wax off one side of his butt hole.
"No pain, no gain," I muttered reaching for the strip covering the other half of his bottom. I get my Brazilian bikini wax at the spa but my husband Larry being a man couldn't show up at Le Prairie's reception desk and request a wax job on his private parts. They do give men facials, however. Men are very metro sexual here in Big D.
We were in the master bathroom of our hacienda style home in Plano, TX. Plano was an upscale suburb of Dallas. I'd reluctantly agreed to remove all Larry's pubic hair myself. Larry was laying face down on the massage table. We were two hours and counting from attending our first cross dresser's ball.
"Just rest and relax while I get ready," I told Larry giving him a pat on his tingling butt.
"I'm pretty tense about tonight. Will you do me a big favor, Chelsea?" asked Larry turning over to lie on his back. When he rolled over and his hard cock came into view, I knew the favor he wanted.
"We don't have a lot of time," I said. That was true. I had to get both of us ready.
"I'll pop quick," said Larry taking his cock in his fist and offering it to me.
"All right but think lurid thoughts," I said leaning forward to grab his penis in my hand as I swirled my tongue over the cockhead. I was excited about tonight too and a little apprehensive myself. Still a woman is put on earth to keep her man happy so I took a deep breath and wrapped my lips around his cock and began the process of sucking my husband's dick. Getting Larry to coat my tonsils with semen required that I give my full oral attention to his cock. I looked him in the eye as I rolled my tongue over the mushroom head. I wanted him to understand that I considered it not only an honor and a privilege to place his penis in my mouth but that at the climatic moment when his semen enters my mouth that swallowing it was pure unalloyed joy. I placed my index finger on his anus and pressed slightly to further my cause. I'd sucked Larry's cock so my many times that I could estimate within a minute or two, how long before he orgasmed. From the rate of breath, sighs, and moans I calculated five minutes at most. I did a butterfly lick of his piss hole as one hand massaged his balls and the other stimulated his sphincter. God you give good head I told myself.
While I put those oral skills I'd been honing since high school into action, my mind wandered to the upcoming event and how I came to agree to it. There's something of a story there. I'll tell it to you so you're up to date.
Physically, we're a small couple. Larry's not a big guy, 5'3", about 125. I'm only a couple of inches taller and weigh practically the same. Two months ago, Larry sat me down in our great room and made an announcement.
"I want to add something new to our sex life," said Larry after taking a sip of an excellent cabernet he'd retrieved from our wine cellar.
"And what would that be?" I asked wondering if now would be a good time to suggest attending a weeklong Tantric yoga workshop in Hawaii. One of my girlfriends I play tennis with had just gotten back from Maui. She'd regaled us at lunch about her thirty-minute orgasms. "It's beyond divine. I thought I was going to melt. It's an entirely new dimension," was how she described it. I was dying to experience a half hour le petit mort.
"I want you to help me dress as a woman and go out in public as one," blurted out Larry.
"You mean become a cross dresser?" I said trying to control my shock and not laugh. Larry had always been a little out there sexually. In the fourteen years we'd been married, we'd worked out way through the kinkier chapters of several sex manuals. I'd agreed to certain things like role-pay, S&M, water sports and forcing a ten-inch strap on dildo up his behind. Other things like wife swapping and threesomes I'd drawn the line at.
"But not all the time and never while the children are around," added Larry.
Good I thought. There was no way that Justin at 13 and Judith at 12 were going to see their father in a dress.
"You trying to attract men. That's a gay thing," I said. I didn't know much about cross-dressing just what I'd seen in the movies and the theatre. We'd seen LaCage au Faux on Broadway a few years back. That Nathan Lane is so talented. He was also queer as a three-dollar bill at least in the play.
"No, it's not that, at least for me it's not. Cross dressers are not necessarily gay," said Larry.
"But why dress like a woman if not to attract another man," I replied.
"It's a fetish thing. I think I'd look pretty good as a woman. What do you think?"
"You're nice and thin and you have feminine facial features. That's the good part."
"And the bad?"
"You're balding, have a prominent Adams apple, no tits and a very big cock plus your physique is decidedly masculine. You have a flat butt and no hips," I said hopping to discourage Larry from further pursuit of this venture. I wasn't lying about Larry's cock by the way. The man was hung. He should have been listed in the Dallas yellow pages under tripods.
Right before I met Larry when we were students at Rice, I'd been dating this 6'4" he man type, Jerry, who had a wonderful piece of equipment. After I broke up with Jerry and went out on my first date with Larry, I reached between his legs in the front seat of his BMW roadster and was astonished to grab hold of an even bigger hunk of meat even though it was mounted on a much tinnier man.
"There are ways to get around those things you mentioned," said Larry. "There are places on the WEB that cater to cross-dressers. I'm asking for your help and support. I know it sounds a little twisted; but you've always been there for me, Chelsea."
"Give me a day or two to think about it," was how I left it with him.
What's the harm and after he does it a few times, he'll get it out of his system I told myself. If I say no, he'll nag me for months. None of his sexual urges had lasted more than a couple of weeks, a month at most. Larry would dress as a woman, get bored with it and move on to something else. Last year, it was water sports and I had to squat over his mouth in the shower stall and let him swallow my urine. We'd licked froze several piss sickles while we screwed. But after he tried it a few times he lost interest and I cleaned the tray of frozen pee pops out of my freezer.
"All right I'll support you as long as it's not a gay thing. What's involved?" I announced two nights later after the kids had finished their homework and gone to bed.
"There's a dance on June 15 th sponsored by a Dallas-based club of cross dressers. Come into the office and I'll show you their WEB site," said Larry obviously pleased that I had agreed. Marriage requires compromise I told myself.
I suppose that between being a soccer mom and taking care of the house with the aid of only one housekeeper, Consuela, I don't have time to learn about all the weird doings of this world. Larry keyed the URL; then left me alone to read about the club dedicated to men who loved to dress like women and the women who love and support those men. The club looked like any other club. It had officers, regular meetings, and quarterly formal dances. The WEB site included a gallery of pictures from last year's ball. The party had been held at one of Dallas's better downtown hotels. There was a band. There were numerous images of tall women dancing with shorter women. Still it looked pretty tame. I thought about the possibility of running into someone we knew. I decided that if we did the person we met would be just as interested in keeping their mouth shut as we were.
Larry owned a real estate development company that his dad started. It wasn't like he worked for some large corporation that would frown on one of their executives dressing up as a girl.
"So can I sign us up for the dance?" asked Larry coming back into our home-office.
"Yes, I'll do it," I said having decided it was within my limits. He gave me a big hug and kissed me.
I spent the next few weeks going to the Galleria and picking out clothes and bringing them home for Larry to try on. He turned out to be enormously difficult to please. I felt like I was trying to dress Princess Grace. And that was for a man that wore a tee shirt and jeans to work unless he had a meeting with a planning board or the bankers.
Thank God he had small narrow feet and could fit in a 9B. I must have brought home twenty wigs for him to try on before he decided to keep two. He ordered a set of 32C falsies, a waist cincher and a set of "bumpers" to round his hips from a New York catalog store.
We had some very unsatisfactory dry runs while the kids were out of the house. He insisted that I get him a pair of five inch fuck me pumps. He looked like an elephant trying to ice skate when he walked in them. I could barely walk in them myself. He settled for three-inch heels and even then he had to practice going up and down the stairs.
I bought him some very sexy French underwear from the La Perla boutique. Larry insisted on a garter belt and hose even though I tried to convince him that there were sound reasons having to do with comfort and convenience that led women to universally adopt pantyhose.
From the wig on top of Larry's baldhead to the color of his toe nail polish there was so much to worry about I started to long for last summer when all I had to do was lick frozen urine on a stick while Larry pounded his cock in my holes.
Slowly everything came together. I found the right makeup for his complexion and had the clothes altered to fit better. We sent the kids off to computer camp the week after school let out. Larry took the week off. He'd made our reservations for the dance. To say he was excited and nervous was to understate the situation. He was close to frantic and I had to calm him down.
"Let's go to lunch today, Lorraine," I said to Larry on Wednesday morning at breakfast. The dance was that coming Saturday night. We'd chosen Lorraine as his girl name.
"Where?" said Larry before he understood my true meaning. "Oh, you want me to go to lunch dressed as Lorraine?"
"There's a new very chic restaurant opened in Irvine, near DFW airport. It's very expensive. Let's dress you up and go." I said feeling rather wicked for reasons I didn't understand.
"I don't know," said Larry.
"Listen, if we're going to that dance Saturday, you need a real dry run. Let's take the training wheels off and put you in the Ladies Room at LaGrenouille," I said.
"Are you sure?"
"You can wear that Chanel suit that looks so cute on you," I said enjoying myself immensely.
Three hours later, I handed the car over to the restaurant's valet. Larry hesitated only a moment before accepting the hand of the car attendant who had opened the passenger side door and extended his hand to help Larry exit the vehicle.
"He looked up my skirt," whispered a thrilled Larry to me as we walked the few steps inside.
"Of course he did, silly. The one on my side looked up mine. You always allow the valet to see your panty so he'll take good care of your car," I lied to Larry.
I had to admit that Larry passed as a girl. Men did look his way. I don't mean to say he was a hottie just an attractive well-dressed female that most men wouldn't kick out of bed if they had an opportunity.
"I have to pee," said Larry after the waiter had taken our drink order.
"Well go to the Ladies Room, find a stall, pull your skirt up, panty down and take a piss. Then peel off a few squares of tissue and wipe your pussy. You've seen me do it often enough," I whispered.
"What if there's someone in there? You know an attendant."
"If there is, tip her a dollar. Take your purse."
"Do you think she will know I am a guy?" said Larry.
"Not unless you ask where the urinal is and haul your dick out," I said.
"Should I put on more lipstick after I pee?"
"Your lipstick's fine. After we eat, we'll both go to the Ladies Room and repair our makeup. Now get along."
Larry returned excited that all had gone well. He'd even exchanged pleasantries with the attendant who'd handed him a towel after washing his hands. I insisted Larry order a Waldorf salad instead of the prime rib sandwich.
"Women order salads at a place like this. Meat sandwiches are for the guys," I reminded him.
We got through lunch without a hitch. Larry's girl voice wasn't bad. He didn't have a deep voice to start with. The hard part was not to forget and talk to the waiter in two different registers.
Larry made sure that the car attendant could see his La Perla raw silk britches when they brought our car around.
"Now for the Mall, feel like a little shopping," I asked as we were getting in the car.
"You think it'll be all right?" whispered Larry.
"No one has called you out so far, Lorraine. Kiss me. Let's treat the valet to a little lesbo action before we drive off."
I leaned over and planted a hot steamy tongue kiss on Lorraine as the two attendants looked at us bug eyed.
"That was so fucking hot, Chelsea," said Larry as we pulled away from the restaurant.
"The attendants are probably discussing how much they'd like to watch the two of us rubbing out doughnuts together," I said.
We drove to the Galleria where the valets were given another chance to see Lorraine's underwear. Lorraine followed me to the couture department in Neiman-Marcus where I casually selected some things for us to try on. We followed the sales girl to a changing room.
"We'll share a changing room," I said to the sales associate.
"Would you like me to stay and help," asked the girl.
Most of the time, I dismiss the sales girl. I can dress myself. I know there are filthy rich Dallas women who've never zipped their own dress but I'm not one of them.
"Sure, why not, okay with you, Lorraine?" I asked.
"Fine," replied Lorraine. I detected a hint of fear in Larry's voice.
I removed my suit jacket, slipped out of my skirt, and began unbuttoning my blouse. In the mirror I could see that Lorraine was following me. The sales associate seemed a little surprised we were both wearing garter belts and hose. She probably didn't see much of that.
I had to hope that the cock strap was still holding Lorraine's meat pole tucked up between her legs. The ruse was up if Larry looked like he had a radiator hose concealed in his drawers. I smiled at my husband as I stood before him in my undies. The sales associate was busy hanging our clothes on a nearby hanger. When I looked again in the mirror I saw there was a wet spot in the front of my panty. What Lorraine/Larry and I were doing was definitely turning me on. I fought the urge to stick my hand in my panty and check my vagina. I sensed my Bartholin glands were pumping oil like the Petromaine Dome in its heyday.
If the sales clerk figured out that Lorraine was really Larry, she kept it well hidden. Couture is commission selling and I imagine she'd put up with pretty much anything as long as you bought something. Lorraine found a darling St. Johns' knit and I opted for a Dolce & Gabanna two-piece. I became somewhat intrigued about the limits of the sales clerk's sense of decorum and planted another long sensuous kiss on Lorraine's lips as the clerk busied herself putting clothes back on their hangers. Lorraine got into what we were doing and we stood there in our brasserie and panty making out as she put everything right then exited to ring up our purchases. She did give us a wistful look at us as she departed. I wonder if she would have liked to make it a three way.
Back at the point of sale terminal, I signed the slip for $2500 and accepted the profuse thanks of the sales associate.
"Do me a favor," said Larry as we sped down the interstate toward Plano.
"Anything Lorraine, just name it," I said putting my hand on Larry's knee and giving it a squeeze.
"When we get to the house, let's go upstairs. Put on that strap on cock and fuck me in the ass," said Lorraine.
"All right," I said wondering if Larry really meant it when he said his cross-dressing had nothing to do with being gay. If a guy wants his wife to fuck his ass with a strap on is that a step toward getting a real cock for his butthole? And if he's wearing a Chanel suit, does that make it worse or better?
"Don't undress," said Larry when we got upstairs. "Put the harness on underneath your skirt."
I raised my skirt and fastened the harness around my waist. Two summers ago, we'd bought the contraption from a mail order catalog. At first, it was kind of weird fantasizing that I was a man as I covered Larry's anus in Astro-Glide then pushed the latex tip past his sphincter. There was a moment of gratification when I realized that Larry's first time hurt him the same or more that my first anal intercourse hurt me. I practically chewed my way through a pillow when the guy I was dating at the time talked me into letting him ride the Hershey Highway. I was sore for days afterwards.
I'd grabbed his hips and ever so slowly pressed forward as he whined and moaned clinching his fists.
"If it's hurting too much, I'll stop," I offered.
"No, I can take it. Just go slow," gasped Larry as I went in another two inches. Butt fucking your husband is great fun for a wife.
I savored the moment when my pubic bones nestled between his butt checks. There was ten inches of flexible latex in his bowels. I gave him a couple of short hard thrusts. He responded with loud moans. It was killing him but he loved it.
Butt fucking my husband was quite satisfying. One reason was that the harness included a clit stimulator that was agitating the little man in the boat. The other reason was that it was a double-ended dildo and there was a good eight inches inside my pussy. In fucking Larry I was fucking myself.
Later we added an S&M touch. I got to use a small hand whip with Mylar strands to redden his bottom as I fucked it. In an odd way, it was payback time to the male gender for all the bad dates, lousy fucks, and half dozen drunken date rapes I'd endured.
Larry got used to anal after the first few times. Ever so often, he would ask me to use the strap on. Today's big difference was that he was wearing a skirt.
Once we got upstairs, Larry placed an ottoman in the center of the dressing area's three-sided mirror and got on all fours. We were going the scenic route.
"Fuck my whore pussy, Chelsea," said Larry fascinated by the sight of himself in the mirror.
I'd dropped my panty to the floor and stepped into the leather harness. My end of the double-ended dildo slid into my vagina in one smooth motion. I was wet as the Amazon Rain Forrest. I moved my labia aside, positioned the clit stimulator and pressed it against its target. Spikes of pleasure traveled from pussy to brain as the hard latex nodules ground into my flesh. I bucked the waist belt, tested to make sure it was securely in place and turned around to face my loving husband Lorraine who was kneeling on the ottoman with his skirt hiked up begging me to fuck him.
"You want this big dick in you, then suck it," I said willingly stepping into the role-play.
I face fucked Lorraine for what I assumed was the appropriate amount of time before stepping back behind him. I pulled his panty down a little and ran my hand over his bottom. I decided he needed to be teased
"You want it bad, don't you, you little whore," I said. I was a fine art major at Rice. I'd done quite a bit of acting.
"Oh God yes, fuck my pussy," said Larry.
I pulled his panty all the way down, parted his cheeks and squirted Astro-Glide over his brown hole. I spent some time working it inside his anus first with one finger then two.
"Tell me how much you want my cock in your pussy," I said working my fingers in and out of his sphincter.
"Please, fuck the living shit out of me," begged Larry.
I looked at the two of us in the mirrors and it did look hot. There I was fully dressed with my skirt hiked up and this leather harness holding a bobbling dildo. Larry also fully dressed on his knees and elbows with his skirt pulled up and panty dangling from one ankle. I'd unsnapped the cock strap and his pecker was hard as a rock in anticipation of having his man pussy fucked. I took my time sinking the head just past the anal ring.
"You want more pussy boy?" I asked.
"Oh fuck yes, I want more," begged Larry pushing back greedy for more penetration.
I held his hips as I pushed forward experiencing the pleasure of grinding my clit against the patch of rough latex as the force of the dildo in his ass transmitted vibrations to the one inside my pussy.
He jerked himself off as I fucked him. After he spilled his load in the top of the ottoman, he rimmed my ass and ate my pussy until I had a powerful and long orgasm. We got naked and hopped in bed for an afternoon of very good sex. It was the hottest fuck of the last several years of my fourteen-year marriage. I found myself looking forward to Saturday night.
So here I am standing at my massage table and sucking my husband's cock. Larry did pop quickly. He was definitely anticipating that something exciting was going to happen that evening.
"How was it?" asked Larry after he ejaculated in my mouth.
"Sweet as always, now get in the shower," I said.
Two hours later, we drove into the hotel's drop off. Lorraine had been a lot of work but I was pleased with the result. Larry had wisely chosen a simple black Carolina Herrera sheath dress and looked quite delicious. The details were right from the carefully styled wig to the pedicured and lacquered toenails tucked into a pair of Manolo Blatnik strap sandals. The dress was short and the lace tops of his Wofford hose were visible if he bent slightly over. He wasn't any Nicole Kidman or Jennifer Connelly but he could definitely get laid in a pickup bar with soft light.
We entered and found our table. We wound up seated with four other couples we didn't know. Rather surprisingly, two of the women were dressed as men. The idea of dressing up as a man didn't appeal to me. It was enough work transforming Larry. Making me into an acceptable man would be a challenge of similar magnitude. I work hard to keep my figure and even after two kids, I'm slender and thanks to power yoga my abdomen does not look like a well-used suede handbag. Hiding my 34C boobs and a bottom that my girl friends say is very Jennifer Lopez is not my thing. That night I was wearing a low cut Prada top that showed serious décolletage and my skirt was short and tight hugging my bubble butt.
The party turned out to be pretty blah. Larry and I danced. I even danced with two of the wives dressed as men. One of the cross dressing wives danced me into a dark corner and proceeded to stick her tongue down my throat as she pulled my skirt up and felt my ass. Later she slipped her phone number in my purse.
Larry danced with women dressed as women and I danced with men dressed as women. It was all a bit much and downright confusing at times. There was considerable discussion on the topic of passing. The cross dresser I was seated beside was wearing a scoop neck dress and showing some very large and I assume very fake tits. Some men had let their hair grow long. There was talk of taking female hormones. One of the men at the table extolled the effect of hormones in changing the pitch of his voice, widening his hips, and shrinking his Adams apple. I bet his balls were quite a bit smaller too.
There were cross dressers at the party who would fool anybody and there were others who would only fool the blind and deaf. I could proudly say that Lorraine was in the top ten percent in the pass as a woman category. Any improvement beyond that would require a surgeon's scalpel.
The party was an opportunity for the cross dressing community to get together and show off. It was at that point that I realized why there was no sexual tension. Sexual tension came from passing as the other sex in a group of people unaware of your true gender like we did at LaGrenouille. The hotel party was a gathering of like-minded people. Cross-dressers wanted a man to look at them and think there is a woman I'd like to fuck not realizing that woman was really a man.
We said our goodbyes at midnight. Larry seemed a little down. I noticed that he hadn't bothered to show the valet his panties.
"That was a little disappointing," said Larry as we pulled away from the hotel.
"It was quiet. But you looked terrific," I said as the good and supportive wife I am. I reached over and put my hand on his leg and rubbed it. Larry leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. It was his way of saying thanks for all my efforts. I figured that Larry's flirtation with cross-dressing was over. He queued up a CD and we listened to a Tony Vale CD as I drove toward the interstate on ramp.
We were still in downtown Dallas almost on the Interstate when all of he sudden Larry said, "Turn right at the next corner."
"Why?" I said as I flipped on the turn signal.
"I need a drink," said Larry. "There's a place down on Fourth Avenue where we can go."
"This is a pretty crummy part of town. Are you sure?"
"Ed Waverly took me there a few weeks ago. It's a country and western place."
One of the differences between Larry and me was his taste for country and western music. I don't hate it. I just don't seek it out.
"Aren't we a little overdressed?" I said. I didn't feel up for walking in a place like that dressed like we were.
"Yeah, but its only for a drink. We'll only stay for one drink. I promise," said Larry.
Rollin's Country Music Store looked like a hundred other similar places around Dallas. It had a neon guitar outside on the marquee and a parking lot full of pickup trucks. If I'd been wearing jeans and a tank top, I'd have felt right at home. But here we were two women dressed in designer clothes walking into a red neck club. The fact that one of us was actually a man seemed like asking for trouble. Still Larry was more than passable according to the judgment of his fellow cross-dressers and he insisted we stop.
We found two seats at the bar and ordered our drink. The place was busy. A C&W band was cranking out music. I was hoping that after one drink and a few tunes, Larry would call it a night. I wasn't that lucky.
"Would you like to dance, Ma'am?" I heard someone say from Larry's side. My head whipped in his direction as I heard him say, "Of course."
I wanted to scream, "Are you fucking nuts?" as Larry slipped off the bar stool and headed toward the dance floor.
"How about you pretty lady?" said a cowboy type appearing in front of me.
"Yeah, sure," I said. I had said yes for one reason only and that was to keep track of Lorraine on the dance floor. My God it was a slow song. Larry's arms were wrapped around his partner and they were talking about something. I hoped it wasn't golf or the Cowboy's chances of making the Superbowl.
I decided what the hell as I melted into my partner's arms.
"You and your friend been to a fancy party?" asked my partner whose name turned out to be Sam.
"Yes, it was business related. We just stopped by for nightcap," I replied.
"What's your business?" asked Sam.
"Real estate development, investments," I replied. Given that was the family business I did know something about it. Sam and I danced until the song ended. When out of the corner of my eye, I saw that the crazy Lorraine was not leaving the dance floor, I asked Sam to dance another song.
"Sure, honey, what's your name?" said Sam gathering me in his arms.
"Chelsea," I responded.
"I see you're married," said Sam taking a look at my wedding ring. "Where's your husband?"
"I resisted the urge to say, "Over to your left, dancing with the guy in the black cowboy hat." Instead I lied, "Out of town on business."
"My wife's in Lubbock with her parents. We're kind of separated," said Sam who'd shifted his hands from the small of my back to the top of my butt.
"That's too bad," I said.
"Oh we may get back together. You never know. Your girlfriend married?"
"Yes, Lorraine's married," I said. When I looked in Larry's direction, I saw that he was kissing his dance partner. "Fuck," I whispered unfortunately loud enough for Sam to hear.
"What did you just say, Chelsea?" said Sam probably thinking he had misunderstood me. His hands dropped to my bottom and he pulled me against him. Grinding your sex against a man's pubic bone is erotic and normally I would have found it so. But not with Larry making out with an unsuspecting male ten feet away. I let Sam pressed himself against me and maybe because I was pissed at Larry I pressed back.
"Just thinking out loud, it was nothing, sorry," I said as I put my head on his shoulder and turned in Larry's direction. Larry and whoever were tongue kissing as the music ended. They seemed to be really getting into each other. Song over. I expected Larry to return to our seats at the bar where I would drag his sorry butt out of this place before something awful happened. But Larry and his friend didn't return to the bar. They walked off the dance floor and into another room in the back of the building.
"What's back there, Sam?" I asked.
"Pool tables," said Sam.
"Let's play some nine ball," I said.
"Sure Chelsea, just a little kiss first," said Sam gathering me into him for a kiss. Sam was obviously a womanizer who was slowly establishing his claim to me. I was being qualified. He definitely had the right moves as he gathered me in for one of those kisses that are as close to real sex as kissing can get. His hands roamed over my backside as first he kissed my mouth then the tops of my breasts.
After we came up for air, we walked in the back room where Larry was leaning out over the pool table showing the four men watching that he had white thighs above the black lace tops of his hose. The poolroom was vacant until we arrived. Our house in Plano has a pool table in the family room and both Larry and I can play a decent game of pool.
Sam racked the balls while I watched Larry miss his shot. While his dance partner was taking his turn, Larry allowed one of the other guys to casually put his arm around his waist dropping his hand to Larry's butt. The man squeezed Larry's butt as they kissed. Larry looked to be enjoying himself immensely. He was drinking beer and allowing himself to be passed around between the four men. Later, when I asked him what he was thinking he said he was just having a good time and didn't realize things would get so serious. "I'm not a real girl. I thought I could make out with them and that would be all," was what he said later when I questioned his judgment.
"Your friend's a crowd pleaser," said Sam noting where my gaze was fixed.
"She certainly is," I said with thinly disguised disgust.
When I bent over to take my shot, Sam came up behind me and put his hand on the back of my leg.
"You'll make me miss my shot," I said.
"That was my intention," said Sam as his hand traveled up my inner thigh before dropping away. He came within an inch of touching my sex. I did miss an easy shot.
In fourteen years of marriage I had been an adulteress only three times and all of them were with tennis coaches at the club. I justified it on the basis that those young men were so young, handsome, and athletic that no woman could resist them. It must have been true because the last one, Gary, slept with practically every woman in the club, even Mrs. Tully, the seventy year old doyenne of the women's tennis league and a breast cancer survivor.
However, although I was willing to let Sam feel me up, I had the good sense to realize that my number one priority was to get Larry out of there and safely back home. So in spite of thinking it might be fun to roll in the hay with Sam a couple of times, I intended at the first opportunity to tell Lorraine it was time to pack it in. Maybe Sam and I would exchange numbers and get together another day.
When I missed a shot and turned the table over to Sam I looked for Larry and discovered he had disappeared. Two of the four men were still at his table and two were nowhere to be seen. At that moment, I heard a loud, "What the hell!" followed by an ever louder slap. It was coming from a dark corridor right near the pool table where Larry was playing. I heard another slap and the sounds of angry voices.
"I've got to see to Lorraine," I said dropping my cue on the table and hurrying toward the disturbance.
The other two men disappeared into the corridor before me. It was a dimly lit hallway leading to the restrooms. There I found my husband pinned up against the wall with his black dress up around his waist, his panty at his knees and his very large cock dandling down. There was a trickle of blood at the corner of his nose.
"Don't hurt him," I yelled pushing past the two men to arrive at Larry's side.
"Fucking queer, trying to make a fool of us," said one of the men holding Larry's arms over his head against the wall.
"Ought to beat the living shit out of you. We don't like fags in Texas," said the other man holding Larry.
"Let's take him outside," said another one.
"No," I yelled.
"You too, you fucking faggot,' said one of the men grabbing me and slamming me against the wall.
"The two of you come in here, all dressed up, figuring we're just a bunch of red necks, too dumb to know the difference between a woman and a queer," said the man who'd grabbed me and pinned me to the wall.
"Its' faggot bashing time," said one of the men. "Let's beat the motherfuckering shit out of them."
"Hold on fellows. I got an idea," said Sam who had just showed up.
"What's your idea Sam? I'm not anxious for this to get around. Everybody's going to be laughing their ass off at us when they hear about this,' said the one holding Larry.
"Is your RV parked out back, Tim?" asked Sam.
"Yeah, like always. The boys and I were planning to take Lorraine there and screw her but since Lorraine's a faggot, we'll just take him out in the parking lot and stomp a mud hole in his ass," said Tim. "You can rearrange the kisser of that one."
He was referring to me.
"The other one fooled me just like she fooled you. I say we take these two queers out to your RV and see how good they can suck cock and take a big one in their ass," said Sam.
"Let us go or I'll call the police," I said.
After I said that, Sam slapped me so hard I saw stars. It was an open palmed slap across the side of my face that left me dizzy and my ears ringing.
"One more word out of you and I'm going to knock all your teeth out," said Sam drawing back his fist as if he was about to punch me in the mouth.
I was paralyzed with fear. Speaking was not an option.
"What do you say, boys, think we should let these two fags suck us off?" said Tim.
"Yeah, why the hell not. It's the only way I'm going to get laid tonight," replied one of the three.
The five men marched us down the corridor and through a doorway marked with an exit sign. Right outside the back door was an RV, a new one from the looks of it. Tim produced a key and opened the door.
"Welcome to my new pussy wagon. I was hoping to break it in with some juicy twat but you queers are going to be the first," said Tim.
Larry and I were pushed through the door. I started to say something but Sam raised his fist like he was punch my lights out if I did so I kept my mouth shut.
"Beer everyone. I got some weed my brother brought up from Senora," said Tim walking over to the refrigerator and getting everyone a beer. He pulled out a dime bag too.
"You won't be needing this,' said one of the men snatching off Larry's wig.
"You neither fag," said Sam grabbing my hair.
"Ow, its not a wig," I yelled as Sam try to scalp me. Sam looked at me surprised.
"You two girls get naked. Here we go Ed, finest sinsemilla," said Tim handing a pipe he'd just lit to his stocky buddy who was wearing a CAT Diesel cap. The smell of marijuana quickly filled the RV.
"You heard the man," said Ed spinning Larry around and unzipping his dress.
"You too," said Sam turning me around.
"Let's watch my big screen television. The dealer threw it in as a freebie since I paid cash," said Tim sliding back a wall panel to reveal a 42 inch flat panel television screen similar to the one we had in our home entertainment center in Plano. "We can watch some porn while our girl friends suck our dicks."
They all laughed when Larry took off his brasserie and the falsies rolled out on the floor. The laughter stopped when mine came off and they saw my tits.
"Those real?" asked Sam who I think was starting to see the light.
"Of course they're real," I said.
On the screen, two girls were eating each other's pussy as a voice over promoted an 800 number you could call for only $2.99 a minute.
"Pecker like that is wasted on a queer like you," said Ed noting the size of Larry's cock. "No, leave the garter belt and hose on. I like the effect."
"We can just sit down on the settee, drink and smoke, watch porn and let Lorraine and Chelsea suck our cocks," said Tim who proceeded to unbuckle the large silver belt buckle and push his jeans and briefs down. "Come over here Lorraine and show me how a real faggot sucks dick."
"Shit, this one's really a girl," said Sam as I pushed my panty down.
"Of course I'm a girl. Now let us go before we have you arrested for rape and assault," I said.
"Now, that is a nice surprise,' said Tim eying my pussy. "Sure there's not a little peter down there somewhere. Check her out, Sam."
"Nope," said Sam after he stuck his hand between my legs to make sure. "She's even wet."
"Who's your girlfriend, Chelsea?" asked Sam.
"Larry's my husband. We went to a party for men who dress like women. Larry's not gay."
"Now why would a man go to all the trouble of dressing up like a woman unless he wants a man to fuck him," said Tim. "I said for you to get your ass over here, Lorraine."
That was a good question and I didn't really know the answer. Larry is not a warrior. He looked scared shitless as he walked over to Tim.
"Now get down on your knees and suck my dick or we are going to unload a can of whop ass on you and the little woman," said Tim grabbing Larry's wrist and pulling him to his knees. Larry had told me before we were married that he had never ever sucked another man's cock. But somehow the hungry way he looked at Tim's erection made me think he was getting exactly what he wanted. Being forced gave him no choice but choice is not always desirable.
"Good, now show Chelsea what a good cocksucker you are," said Tim pushing Larry's head toward his cock.
Larry put one hand on Tim's cock to steady it as his tongue went to work on the head. I decided it was not his first homosexual experience.
"Your turn," said Sam leading me over to the couch. He sat down and stuck one leg out.
"Pull my boots off," commanded Sam.
It was a struggle but I finally got his cowboy boots off.
"Now the rest," said Sam unbuckling his belt.
Larry was sucking Tim's cock as I pulled Sam's jeans and briefs down.
"Okay, Chelsea, show me what you got," said Sam unlimbering his cock and pointing it my way.
"This is rape you know," I said.
"Yeah, its rape. I can see the headlines in the Dallas Ft. Worth News, cross-dressing couple assaulted. Now put my dick in your mouth and suck it before I get pissed off and do something we'll both regret tomorrow," said Sam.
I joined my husband in the cock sucking squad. I felt someone kneel behind me and a cock came in contact with my bottom.
"No point in letting this end go to waste. Ain't nobody using it," said Ed as he pointed his cock into my vagina and pushed. I grunted at he slid inside my vagina. Since I was already wet, he easily mounted my rear and started to pump.
"Little Chelsea's got a warm tight pussy, fits my pecker like OJ's glove,' said Ed who had a firm grip on my hips as he fucked me. I'd reconciled myself to my fate. I was pushing back and squeezing Ed's cock with my vagina muscles while I gave Sam an energetic and enthusiastic blowjob. I'd decided there's nothing to do but fuck them until they can't fuck any more and then hopefully they'll let us go. After which I am taking Larry home and kill him.
"You got any lube," asked someone behind me.
"There's some K-Y in the medicine cabinet, Luke," responded Tim.
I could hear loud moans coming from the television. Someone sat down on the couch beside Sam grabbed my hand and put it on his cock. I began jacking him off.
"Look at that clean butthole, not even the tinniest little hair," said Luke who had returned from the medicine cabinet and was preparing to lubricate Larry's asshole. He deserves to be fucked in the ass I told myself. What was he thinking? Now we're both being raped thanks to his stupidity.
"Oh fuck that hurts," said Larry in response to Luke expanding his anal ring. Given that Larry's butthole frequently hosted a very large dildo, I doubted it hurt all that much. Larry was role-playing.
"Isn't that what you wanted, Lorraine, a cock in your tight little ass?" said Tim.
"No, I was just playing around," said Larry who had finally found his voice.
"Hand me that K-Y," said Ed thereby informing me that anal was on my dance card.
But Ed didn't butt fucked me right then. He lube me butthole and fingered my butt while he pounded my pussy. As soon as Ed climaxed in my vagina, Ron, the one I'd been jacking off took his place and he took me anally. As Ron drove his cock deep into my rectum, Sam filled my mouth with semen that I obediently swallowed. At my side, Larry also engaged in the honorable procedure of ingesting another man's sperm.
"Toke," asked Sam offering me the pipe.
I figured why not and took a draw. With the kids around, weed is a no-no in our house even though Larry and I smoked a lot of dope in college. One of my tennis team has no children so we girls occasionally meet at her house and get high. I'd hoped that with all five of them having ejaculated they'd let us go. But I was delusional. These were horny Texans and they were just getting started. The five of them fucked the two of us until the sun came up over Dallas. I was screwed in all positions: missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, reverse cowgirl with double penetration, and cowgirl with triple penetration. Larry got all the dick he secretly wanted. The dope got Larry and I both horny and high and before it was over I was an enthusiastic rapee as was my husband.
During one of their breaks, they let Larry fuck me while they all sat on the couch and watched. I looked up at the big screen were a porn star was accepting the money shot. Four men were jacking off on her face.
Being fucked by Larry seemed the odd part. There I was on my back bent double with a sloppy pussy that had taken a least ten loads of jism. The five of them sat drinking beer and passing the pipe. After Larry blew his load, they made him eat me and I got off.
Larry had eaten his own creampie out of my pussy before but never anyone else's. So that was a first. Having your husband eat your pussy and asshole when it's oozing other men's ejaculate is hot.
The sun was out when Larry and I stumbled out of the RV and walked around front to our car that much to my surprise was still there. The five cowboys were passed out between the couch the RV's master bedroom.
We stopped for coffee and a bagel at a Dunkin Doughnuts drive through. God knows what the clerk thought when she looked in the car at us. We definitely looked like we had been ridden hard and put in the barn wet. I gave a thought to STDs then pushed it out of my mind. Nobody had used a condom and anal with strangers without a condom is for idiots but still I figured the odds were with me.
"Sorry about that Chelsea. I got carried away," said Larry as we pulled onto the interstate.
"We could have been really hurt, you know."
"How's your face?"
"Just a bruise, I'll live," I said.
"No more cross-dressing for me," said Larry. "I'm just going to stick to straight sex from now on."
That should have been my plan too but while I was paying for breakfast, I saw the card that the lady at the party that dressed like a man had slipped in my purse. I made a mental decision to give her a call.
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