Monday, January 26, 2015
How long has it been since I was free, able, allowed to touch myself at will? Months, slipped into years.
How long has it been since I was erect, like a boy, instead of soft, like a girl? Weeks, slipped into months.
How long has it been since the feminine became the norm, the daily existence? Years, slipped into decades.
How long has it been since my pleasure was reduced to the frustrating touches through a locked cage? Since she realized this was the natural state of things.
How long has it been since I was inside her? Before him, before he claimed that right as his own.
"Do you miss it, Sara," he asked me, "do you miss being inside a woman, inside her?"
"Yes," I whispered, unable to even meet his eyes.
"Would you switch places, if you could?"
"No," I answered, not even needing to think, to consider.
"No," Matthew said, "no, of course you wouldn't."
He knew, as she did, as I did, the essence of it. The thing every sissy, every cuckold wanted so much, to be with a woman, was the thing we were most afraid of, ashamed of, trying to please a woman like a man.
That was the thing, the conflict. Surrendering. Accepting.
"What do you think of when she's gone," he asked. I hesitated. "Sara..."
"She's a sweet woman, she's lucky to have you."
"I'm the lucky one," I said, automatic, as it was the truth. He smiled. "What?"
"Something only someone like you would say or even understand. She's lucky, too, though, I mean it, to have someone that understands her needs, her desire to surrender now and then. Both of you, really."
I blushed, looked away, not quite ashamed, but still, humiliated by my thoughts, the feeling powerful, erotic.
Posted by Saragirl at 7:52 AM