Monday, August 26, 2019

Just sayin...

Maybe she wouldn't think you were a sissy cuckold if you didn't get an erection every time she dressed you in lingerie and went on a date with a man.

Monday, August 12, 2019


I love sitting at Emily's feet in the evening, carefully painting her toenails, especially in the summer. She'll watch tv or read a book while I focus on her, the object of my entire attention.

It's such a good task for a sissy, cuckold, as it gives practice in the feminine arts, emphasizes service over self, and makes her look pretty when she's out and about.

P.S. Not Emily's actual feet, but certainly a good representation.


He thought it was nice his wife had met the slightly older couple that moved in across the hall. He spent too much time traveling for work, often leaving Sunday night, not coming home until Friday morning.

"Don't worry," the woman told him one afternoon, "we hate thinking she's home alone all week, we're happy to have her over any time."

"You're sure she's not imposing?" he asked, "I mean..."

"Imposing?" the woman interrupted, "not at all, not at all. If anything, it's the opposite, she's quite helpful and always pulls her own weight, if not more."

"You're sure?" he asked one more time.

Oh, she pulls her own weight, alright, she pulls and pulls and pulls.

Wasted Time

To think all that time they spent (totally unsuccessfully) trying to date girls when they're so much happier just being girls.


I always prefer answering questions in a post because not everyone goes back and reads comments after viewing a post.

Anonymous asks:

Looks like saragirl's thoughts are ramping up again. (smile) Will you be this nervous again the next time Emily finds a man?


Yes, yes my thoughts are ramping up again, in part because Emily's are as well. We're not there yet, but there is an unquestionable pull for both of us.

And will I be this nervous? Oh my god, yes. It's been awhile and I you have no idea how nervous I'll be when she tells me it's time.

Thursday, August 8, 2019


I walked into the bathroom just as my wife was attaching a stocking to her garter belt. "Jesus," I whispered, not meaning to say anything but unable to keep quite.

She didn't look up, didn't acknowledge my presence, just carefully, attached the garter tab to her stocking, slowly. Finally, she looked up, hand still on the garter.

"You're gawking, sweetie," she said, a mild scolding.

"I...I didn't mean to," I mumbled, mouth dry.

"Yet you are," she said. She sat back on the counter, moved her hands into her lap, subconsciously covering her legs which only showed off her breasts, shifting my eyes up.

"I...I didn't expect...I look so..." I swallowed again, felt my stomach tighten. "You look so pretty."

"I was going for sexy," she said, "but I'll take the compliment."

I finally lowered my eyes, conscious to avoid staring, shifted from foot to foot.

"What?" she asked, carefully watching me.

"I...I don't know," I said, "I just didn't...I mean...look at you...I don't...I don't know if this is a good idea."

Her face got serious and she watched me for a good minute. "Sweetie, he's on his way, I don't think it's fair to him for me to call him now and tell him it's off."

"I just...I don't know," I said, "we...we hardly know him."

"No, we know him well enough, that's not what this is about. Are you having second thoughts?"

"No...I mean...I don't know," I said.

She got serious, watched me. "Listen, this is something we both said we wanted, something we both talked about. If you're serious, if you don't want to do this, I'll call him, I will. He'll be mad, but he'll understand."

" will? Call him?"

"Of course," she said, "we've talked about this. If this isn't what we both want, we're not doing it. But I don't think that's what this is, love, I think you're just nervous, that's all, and if that's what it is, nerves, I don't want to call him. You know what he said about that."

I looked down, thought about his ground rules. We could stop anything, anytime, but if we flaked out, he was gone, that while we were involved with him, he was in charge.

"So are you really having second thoughts," she asked, "or are you just nervous?"

"I...I'm nervous," I admitted, "I mean..."

"Your wife's body belongs to someone else now," she said in a low, seductive tone.

"Oh, god," I moaned.

"For the first time in our marriage, there's going to be a man in our lives."

"Hmmmmm," I said, almost drooling.

"A strong, dominant man...I know it's difficult, I get it, but it's what you want, isn't it? You're not really having second thoughts, are you?"

"I..." My mouth was so dry, I couldn't form words.

"So do you want me to call him or no?"

"," I said, "no. No."

Monday, August 5, 2019


The anticipation of watching her wait for her lover excites you almost as much as the reality of watching him take her.

What is is? Seeing her ass in the air, face down, forbidden to look back, forbidden from raising her face from the bed. Knowing she won't know what's coming, won't know if he intends to spank her, fuck her, or just watch her quiver in anticipation.

What is it? Seeing her beautiful body on display, knowing it isn't for you but rather for him. Knowing the woman you love, the mother of your child, the woman who brings you so much joy, needs someone else, begs for someone else, submits to someone else.

What is it? Watching her, minute after minute, waiting for him, wanting him, needing him. Seeing her shake when she hears his footsteps approaching. Hearing her breathing quickening as he enters the bedroom. Watching her quiver, anticipating his touch.

He looks over at you, smiles, pleased at your presentation of your wife, pleased at your offering.

He walks towards her, careful not to block your view, wanting you to see the comfortable ease he feels with her. Without a word, he slaps her ass. She jumps, but can't really move, his strong hand remains on her, grabbing her roughly by the pussy, not enough to hurt her, hard enough to claim her.

"How long?" he asks, looking at you.

"F...forty five minutes," you say, voice rough, not having spoken a word that entire time.

He moves his hand, you see it slip easily into her pussy; she moans softly. "She's soaked, have you touched her?" he asks, an accusation.

", Sir," you say, shocked, you'd never do such a thing, never.

"Crawl over here," he motions you with a finger, "pull her panties the rest of the way off."

"Y...yes, Sir," you say, crawling, feeling the soreness between your legs as you swell to the edge of the small, locked cage.

When she feels your trembling fingers touch her soft skin, she starts to put her legs together to help you, but slaps her with his free hand, while pushing his fingers deeper into her. "Keep you legs apart," he scolds her, "wider."

As you're struggling to pull her panties down, with a practiced one-handed motion, he undoes his belt and pants, pulling his hard cock free. When the panties are off her one leg, he steps between her legs, slaps her ass again, shaking his head in appreciation. "What a fucking ass she has," he says, looking at you.

"Y...yes, Sir," you mumble, eyes locked on his erection, amazed as always how thick and hard he gets.

"Spread her apart," he tells you. You do, the excitement almost too much to bear, you watch, face inches from her as he takes his cock in one hand, moves it up and down, wets the tip with her juices, pushes it against her outer lips, waits. And waits. And waits.

After thirty seconds, your wife's ass starts shaking involuntarily. After a minute, she's breathing heavy, trying to coax him in without moving, afraid if she does he'll stop.

"What's the matter?" he growls at her.

"'re teasing me," she blurts out.

"Sluts should be teased," he says, rubbing the head against her, still refusing to push it in.


"But nothing," he says slapping her again, "don't pretend to be the dutiful wife when we all know you're a cock hungry slut."

You see her shaking again, know how his words strike at her, clash with her carefully crafted image as a wife and mother. She prides herself on that, being a good wife, a good mother, keeping a good house, devoting herself to her family. And it's true, but for one thing, she lives that image, it's her. It's really her.

But that thing. That one thing. The good girl, the good wife, with an inner slut.

"Say it," he taunts her pushing forward ever so slightly, teasing her with what she wants.

"Please, Sir," she begs.

"Say it now, say it without me telling you again, say it or I walk out of this room."

You know he's serious, so does she. He's done it before, left, as training, training her to behave.

"I...I'm a slut," she says, voice but a whisper.

He slaps her ass again, the last warning.

"I'm a cock hungry slut," she says with more conviction. "Please, stop teasing me, please stop...."

Her word are cut off by a rough thrust of his hips, his cock pushing into her fast and hard, not gentle and easing as a husband would, but forceful, purposefully, pushing into her like he owns her.

You're eyes go wide, you've never been allowed this close before, and it's like he forgot you were there, forgot you were so close, watching.

He fucks her rough and hard, animalistic, sex, not love, fucking, not coupling, possessing her, taking her, fucking her until he shakes, shudders, grunts, faster, until he stays inside her and cums with a loud, masculine growl.

As suddenly as he entered her, he pulls out, slaps her again. "Stay there till I leave slut. He'll clean you when I'm gone."

A minute later, his footsteps still echoing, you lean forward, tongue out, ashamed of what happened, of what you're doing, but doing it just the same, eagerly, licking her, licking her clean.

Not true, Sir, as there is something I can do about it; I can lick every single crop of your cum out of her

Friday, August 2, 2019

Hashtag Games

#pussyfree #teampussyfree #lockedforlife #teaseanddenial #sissygasmonly #never #restorevirginity