Saturday, August 30, 2014

Feel like his...

I'm excited.

We're dress shopping tonight, a date night.

Yes, our date night is shopping for a dress for her to wear on her date night with Matthew.

I know, it's strange, I know...only a sissy likes dress shopping with his wife; only a cuckold likes picking out a dress for his wife to wear on a date with a man.

I'm both so I'm doubly excited; there it is.

She must have asked me fifteen times yesterday if I was sure, each time I said yes and asked her if she was sure. I think we're both sure. Nervously sure. But sure.

We were sending ideas to each other this morning, inspirations, though we have to see what we can find when shopping.

I sent the first one, almost a joke.

"You like," I asked, "for tomorrow night?"

"Sweetie, if a dress could talk, this one would say 'you're not getting laid tonight,'" she emailed back.

"You're hilarious. Shorter? Like this," I emailed her a little black dress.

"Now we're getting somewhere. Better...a bit formal though. You need better inspiration, love," Emily said.

"So give me some," I teased.

"Fine," she emailed back a bit later. "Here. I think this sets a better tone. You know, leaving no doubt in Matthew's mind...or anyone that sees us...that I'm his."

"I don't know we'll find something quite that...skimpy, Em."

"We can try," she said, "can't we? I mean...he said go beyond what we'd normally go."

Right before lunch she emailed again. "I found what I want," the email said.

I looked at the picture. Fuck. "That's lingerie," I emailed back.

"Actually, it's not," she replied, "close though. They don't have it locally or in my size online, but this is similar, just as sexy...for club wear."

"Love the necklace, no?"

"Fuck," was all I could say.

"They don't have that either...but there's another option..."

"What," I asked.

"Instead of looking for a slip dress, just look for a slip."

We talked about it, that night, after we got home with a dress, er, a slip, how it made her feel.

"It's not how I picture you," I told her.

"I know, believe me, it's a bit...uncomfortable. When we went out last time, I felt like I was on display, like I was naked, even."

I heard the quiver in her voice. "You liked that? The feeling?"

She nodded. "With him...yes. It makes me feel, I don't I'm..." She paused, bit her lip.

"Like you're his whore," I finished.

Emily blushed deeply. "Sara, I don't mean to," she started to say, perhaps misjudging my thoughts.

"Em," I held up my hand, stopping her; she certainly saw my eyes now, the reaction to the erotic presence of Matthew. "Say it...finish..." She understood, her words didn't hurt, humiliating as they were, her words were the thing, the essence of the thing we were doing, the thing we both craved. "When you dress for him, how does it make you feel?"

She looked at me, our eyes met, I could see the wheels turning in her mind; she too felt the erotic charge between us that Matthew was causing, the intimacy he brought to Emily and me. "I...I feel...I feel like I'm his whore," she said in almost a whisper.

"When else do you feel like that," I asked. "When else do you feel like his whore?"

"When...when he touches me," she said, eyes half closed. "I feel like his whore when he touches me."

"And," I asked, "when else?"

"I...I feel like his whore when I'm undressed in front of him."

"What else?"

"I feel like...his whore when I'm kneeling on the ground."

I half mumbled, half moaned.

"I feel like his whore when he's in my mouth.

"What else? When else do you feel like his whore?"

"I feel like his whore when he fucks me."

"Em," I said, touched her breasts.

"I'll feel like his whore when he cums inside me." We were holding hands, squeezed them together, I was as hot as she was. "And I want you to feel like his whore," she half moaned, "when I get home and you lick me and taste me."

But I feel like his whore now, already, his whore, her whore. It's such a bad word, so, so bad, but so erotic, too, so fucking erotic.


  1. Sara:
    I know which outfit Emily won't be wearing, but you might down the line...... that black romper/playsuit with the black lede trim.... and of course the wonderfully sheer black pantyhose. Admit it. You want to be seen wearing that!

  2. Big day for you all ... thanks for keeping us posted. I love that Emily is willing to wear something as outrageous as that red dress - WOW! Wishing you a wonderful evening, each of you in your happy-place ;-)

  3. Such an erotic post. It's so true that you can feel, and be his whore just by your role of providing Em additional pleasure upon her return. Lovely,

    sissy terri

  4. Nice way of stringing out this story for all of us to enjoy, Sara.


  5. Precious collection of dresses.
    Thank you very much for sharing it.
    Thank you for his wonderful blog.
    Cordial regards.

  6. This is so exciting!


  7. It's Sunday afternoon and there's been no update from Sara. It makes me wonder if perhaps Emily didn't leave with Matthew after all, rather they were so hot they chose to involve John/Sara in an evening at home. Or perhaps they all went together to the club and hotel. Wouldn't that be erotic to be a cuckold watching your wife dancing erotically with her lover and then go back to their hotel to humiliatingly watch them finally have sex without a condom and be there for cleanup duty? I can't wait for Sara's next blog post, whenever that might be!

    1. I don't think so.
      Do you remember? Sunday is intimate time for them. No time to write anything.

    2. Pippocit,
      You are correct that Sunday is usually intimate time for them. But in the past Sara has "lived blogged" during Emily's dates with Matthew, usually posting something right after they leave on their date. This is what I was rather poorly referencing.