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Message-ID: <50816asstr$1111907403@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: VickieTern@aol.com
Subject: {ASSM} Corespondent by Vickie Tern 2/3 TG femdom F/m wife
Lines: 557
Date: Sun, 27 Mar 2005 02:10:03 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d


Corespondent by Vickie Tern 2/3
 
 
 
 
 
Janice was supposedly gone for the weekend visiting her mother  in
Peoria.  She had to seem safely away while I tended to her  husband,
or he'd be too nervous about her walking in on us once I had  him
well-compromised.  In fact that was her plan.  She wasn't  in
Peoria, only downtown in a hotel room with a guy from her office,
I  forget his name, a tall thin one with a cock to match, she said. 
I prefer  thick cocks myself, but you never know, we take what we
can get, and it takes  all kinds.  Anyhow, there she was already
shacked up with him at this  very moment, passing the time.  If her
plan worked she'd return some  time later on tonight and catch us in
flagrante, as the lawyers say.   She'd make outraged noises, leave
indignant, head straight for the divorce  courts, name me in a
sealed proceeding as the corespondent, the 'other woman'  who had
alienated her husband's affections, and then she'd strip  Jeffrey
bare of all his assets. 
 
"When I catch the two of you together, I guarantee he'll turn to
jelly,"  she assured me.  "I tell you what.  Don't just fuck him,
humiliate  him too.  Utterly!  Dress him up girly and sexy, the way
you  sometimes do with your lovers when you're about to dump them
and want to  change the way you think about them.  I've seen it. 
You even dumped one  of those sissyboys onto another man once, I
remember, that sales rep from ...  well, never mind where.  He was
dressed up like a prom queen, and you  got the two of them blind
drunk, and then they went off together.  You  spent the rest of the
night laughing and laughing about how they'd untangle  themselves
when they got sober enough and then each would realize what it  was
they'd just fucked.  Well, make Jeffrey look like a girl,  it
shouldn't be too hard, he's not much of a man to begin with.  I  bet
he'd be better-looking as a girl.  Then when I discover the two  of
you he'll never be able to locate even a shred of whatever he calls
his  manhood.  He'll sign anything."  
 
So that was the plan. 
 
Anyhow, Jeffrey let me in, and looking at him in a new way I  saw
immediately what Janice meant.  As a man he was a wimp,  no
question, but still, he was cute!  Not massive like Ron  but
slender, graceful, with soft features.  Almost pretty, he had  the
makings of a quite passable babe.  His hair should be  lightened
several shades to bring out his eyes, I was thinking -- but  then
that wasn't in the works for tonight.  Dress size maybe a 10,  could
even be an 8 if not too clingy, not that he knows it yet.  But  I
didn't need to think about that either -- Janice had already laid
out  his outfit for the evening upstairs.  Whore gear, leather mini
skirt,  net stockings, strappy five inch heels and all.  
 
"Not that it's all work and no play for you," Janice had told me. 
"He  has a respectable pecker, nothing exceptional but enough to
give  satisfaction."  I saw right away that I was going to enjoy the
evening  even while only doing Janice a favor.  Maybe I'd even owe
her one?   We'd see.
 
"Hi!" I said, looking straight across at him -- he was about my
height  and build.   From my own angle of vision, without lowering
my eyes  I could see that my nipples were poking out at him.  He
sure saw them,  he couldn't lift his eyes up to meet mine!  "Janice
asked me to come  over to see if you're properly taken care of while
she's away.  Getting  enough to eat.  Is there anything I can do for
you?"  And of course  as I thrust my chest up at him, his eyes
locked onto each breast tip.   One on each.
 
"Ahhh, that's very nice of you," he finally said.  "I mean  that's
very considerate."  He was flustered utterly.  Mr. Dork  indeed.  No
wonder Janice wanted to divorce him.  A polite man  isn't being
polite at all if he just stands there and does nothing when  a
girl's obviously offering herself to be leaped and fucked.   But
Jeffrey was nothing if not polite, and only polite.  My two  nipples
held him like a deer in headlights.
 
I stood there in the doorway, waiting for him to take what would be
his  only initiative of the evening.  "Err, won't you come in?"  he
said  hesitantly.  Finally he had arrived back in this world.
 
I did, and preceded him into their living room, and stood alongside
the  couch, and looked up at him with the most outrageous bedroom
eyes I could  muster, eyelids drooping as if I already had his cock
tucked way inside me  and it felt real gooooood.  Then I sat down
and stared up at him wide  eyed.  
 
"Shouldn't you sit too?" I asked.  "It's your house, you know."  
 
Though not for long -- Janice intended to keep it as part of the
divorce  settlement.  "You're too good a neighbor to lose," she'd
said.  "So  I'll stay.  Jeffrey can leave with the clothes on his
back, I'll allow  him that much.  Maybe some of my last year's
dresses too if you're as  good at what you do as I suspect.  I'll
have to see."
 
"Janice, is all this necessary?" I'd asked her.  "Why don't  you
just train him to obey you without daring to ask why, the way  I've
trained Ron.  Then you can keep him for life and he'll be  no
trouble.  A guy in the house can be handy for fixing the  plumbing
or running errands, opening cans, you know, stuff like that.   So
can two incomes."
 
"Oh, I don't intend to do without two incomes," she'd said.   "It's
just that Jeffrey isn't the kind of man I care to live with  any
more, and his income isn't the only one I intend to live on anyhow.  
There are bigger and better of both in this world.  I envy  what
you've got with Ron, but I don't have your patience and finesse. 
And  anyhow Jeffrey will never have Ron's masculine drive, nor his
business  sense.  Compared to Ron Jeffrey's no prize at all.  If he
hadn't  inherited his money we'd probably be living on an assistant
supermarket  manager's salary.  That's what he'll end up as once I'm
rid of him, I  expect."  She'd grinned.  "If not a checkout girl."
 
"I see," I'd replied.   I was making a mental note -- if she  envies
me Ron, I'd better watch Ron closely until Janice finds a  wealthy
hunk of her own to occupy her.  From now on, whenever I go out  and
I know that Janice is home, I've got to deplete Ron utterly.   Take
no chances.  Even if it limits his performance afterward.  
 
But how?  I gave it a little thought.  I won't be able to fuck  him
myself those times, I was thinking, because my men always  complain
when they find my pussy's been used recently.  That guy thing  --
they don't like to slosh around in each other's goop any more than
Ron  does.  Maybe they think that's faggotty?  Who knows?  So  I'll
have to see to it that Ron spends at least an hour jerking  himself
off before each of my dates, till there's nothing left to jerk.  
I'll help by describing the guy I'm dating and what we intend to
do, and  meanwhile tell him to keep pulling on his thing until it
squirts.  And  then pull on it some more until it squirts again. 
And then again -- Ron can  sometimes pitch triple headers, and he'd
masturbate the thing raw if I told  him to.  Maybe I can get him to
prefer that kind of sex to the real  thing, pulling himself off
while imagining me getting fucked by someone  else?  So he can think
he's fucking me at one remove, in a way, and then  can't do it at
all at first hand, so to speak?  I should try it, I was  thinking. 
I do so love to mess his mind!
 
But now here I was alone with Janice's husband, doing her a favor
by  seducing him into divorce court.  "Come sit next to me," I  said,
stroking the couch cushions next to me as if they were the cheeks
of  his ass.  "And tell me if you want anything.  Maybe I can help."
 

He did.  He sat stiffly alongside me, close enough so I knew  he
could feel the warmth of my thighs through our pants legs, his
hands  planted firmly on his knees.  Uneasy, silent.  Boring.
 
I decided to cut to the chase, no matter how abrupt it might seem. 
He'd  never make his own moves.  Janet had told me that he never
made the  first move sexually anyhow.  "Too shy, I suppose," she'd
said  indifferently.  Well, we'd see if he's shy once he's been set
in  motion.  What was it that high school Quarterback told me when
he took  my cherry and I was marvelling out loud at the way our hips
moved, how they'd  just kept pumping and wriggling on their own? 
Newton's Law he'd called it,  "Bodies in motion tend to remain in
motion," he'd said.  Newton sure got  that right!
 
I placed my palms under each breast and lifted them up and held
them as  if offering them to him, and stared at him until he finally
turned his head  and stared back at me.  At them.  Then he couldn't
take his eyes  off them.  
 
"If this isn't too intimate a topic for you, I've been thinking
lately  about this odd habit women have, wearing brassieres," I
said.  "Even  though we like to feel free to do whatever we choose
to do, we bind ourselves  into them anyhow.  What do you think? 
Should I have put one on before  coming over?"
 
He gazed down at my proferred boobs, suddenly frightened.   But
unable to take his eyes off them.  My nipples were distended  now,
anticipating his mouth. 
 
"I wonder why women wear brassieres when they don't need them," I
added  earnestly, as if seeking his counsel.  "And not men too. 
Have you  thought about that, ever?  Wearing brassieres?  Wondered
what it's  like?"  I paused.  Plant the seed of an unthinkable
thought and it  sprouts out not at all unthinkable.  And eventually
grows lots of  interesting little thoughtlets.
 
He swallowed and seemed to choke.  I bet he's tried it, one time  or
another!  Janice's bras, or his mother's when he was little.   Good
enough.  At least he hasn't bolted off this couch and  locked
himself in the bathroom.
 
"Let me show you what I mean," I said. 
 
I released my breasts, which descended and bobbled once under  their
silken draperies before resuming their usual rightful upthrust.  
Then I quickly unbuttoned my blouse.  In a moment my chest  was
altogether naked and those pink, protrusive nipples were fully
exposed  to his eyes.  They stared at each other.  He didn't know
what to  do.  He looked terrified!
 
"What do you think?" I asked him.  
 
"I ... I don't know," he said.  "I don't think they ...."
 
"Hush!" I said, reaching over and placing a finger across  his
now-hardened cock as if it were his mouth, swearing it to secrecy.  
"Look, let's just find out.  Why don't you look in Janice's  undies
drawer and bring me the largest bra you can find there.   You
already know where she keeps things like that, I suppose?"   That
traps him into a confession  of sorts, I thought.  He  nodded.  This
would be so easy!
 
To make it easier still, before she'd left supposedly to visit  her
mother Janice had bought a bright red bra in exactly Jeffrey's
chest  size, all satin and elastic lace, strong enough to gather up
his loose skin  and slack chest muscles and shape them into breasts,
and she'd spread it out  across her top drawer above all the others,
where he couldn't possibly miss  it.  Anxious to escape my
threatening naked boobs, Jeffrey did my  bidding.  I saw with
satisfaction that as he left the room he was bent  way forward and
glancing worriedly back at me to see if I saw his  shame.  I smiled. 
In three minutes more that hard cock will be inside  me, I told
myself as I stripped off my pants and panties and arranged  myself
luxuriously along the length of the couch.  I was now as  altogether
bare as that painting, Goya's "Nude Maja," though like her I  was
still wearing my heels.  One leg stretched ahead with the  toes
pointed as if already orgasmic, one leg was languidly draped down
on  the floor, my pussy slit peeking out, altogether accessible.  My
boobs  were still exposed, though now sagging softly.  He returned
with the red  bra and then stood transfixed, this time staring at my
exposed, moist, pink  crack.  Maybe he'd never seen one quite this
open?  Not even  Janice's?
 
"Jeffrey, don't just stand there holding it in your hand!  Bring  it
here.  We need to try it on to see how it fits?"
 
But as soon as he came within range I reached behind his neck and
pulled  him down on me with one arm, while with the other arm I
reached for his belt  buckle and zipper.  I had to slide his thing
into position and then push  myself onto it if his hips hesitated to
do the deed.  But no sweat, a  moment later he was inside me.  This
was the easiest lay I had ever  seduced.  
 
And a pretty fair size, too, for a boy-man like Jeffrey.  It  felt
good as I closed my thighs over his back and thereby closed off  his
only escape route.  Mission accomplished!  Jeffrey was  now
officially an adulterer.  Here come the judge!  The rest would  be
fun.  
 
"Oh, that cock!" I cried out in ecstasy!  "How could you do this  to
me, Jeffrey?  I'm so ashamed!  More, more!"  And I lunged  my pelvis
at him.  He actually began to move, even to rotate!  And  then to
plunge.  And it was true, then there was no stopping him!   He
rolled in and out and around and around me as I lubricated, then
turned  dripping wet.  My juices quickly coated both our groins and
bellies and  started to leak onto the couch -- Janice's problem now,
I thought vaguely as  my pleasure mounted.  
 
"Suck me!" I commanded in a tense whisper.  "Suck my nipples!   You
know you want to!  Do it!"
 
"Yes!" he squealed in a high-pitched voice, one I realized would do
very  well.  Maybe I really should make him a girl long term?  It
would  take a certain amount of work.  But what for? 
 
An idea began to dawn -- I could knock down two birds with  one
stone!  But it depended on Janice.
 
Meanwhile he sucked my nipples like a starved baby!  Sheer heaven.  
I reached a marvelous orgasm, then another, crying out joyously
each time  to encourage him.  The third came slower, giving me time
to wonder  whether he'd ever reach a peak himself --I had other
things to do with him  before Janice returned,  So I concentrated,
and slid my pussy up and  down and around him with a little extra
corkscrew lunge on each  upstroke.  Finally, "Ahhhhhhh!" he cried
out, muffled by his mouthful of  titty.  That meat inside me began
to leap about in my cunt like a  frightened colt.  "Ahhhh!  Ohhhh!"
he grunted with each spurt, and  the spurts kept coming.  He was a
fountain!  Finally it ended, and  he collapsed on me. 
 
He'd now groaned more syllables in heat than he'd uttered  as
conversation since I entered the house.  I wrapped my legs  around
him even more tightly, and locked my heels against the small of  his
back so he couldn't possibly escape, and clamped my vulva  tight
against his crotch as if to preserve all of his sperm inside me,
and  waited.  He pulsed once or twice more.  But all good things
end,  and as his prick shrank our mingled cum leaked out into the
slick mess now  soaking irretrievably into the couch cushions.  No
way to hide what we'd  done now!  He was hopelessly compromised!
 
"Just wonderful, you're a darling," I crooned.  "Really great!  
Wherever did you learn to make love like that?"
 
In fact he was pretty good once he got under way.  Size not  half
bad, impassioned moves, and incredible staying power.  A natural.  
I still didn't know why Janice wanted to divorce him when she could
just  as easily keep him on at home and fill out her sex life with
add-ons, the way  I did.  She could have her cake and he could eat
it, the way Ron did  mine.  I wouldn't mind keeping him conveniently
nearby for my own casual  add-ons, I realized.  A man like this has
his uses.
 
Which reminded me.  He wasn't supposed to be a man when  Janice
arrived.  "Mmmmm, lick me, sweetheart," I said to  him
affectionately.  
 
He obliged, his tongue lapping at my nearest nipple.  
 
"No," I said gently, releasing his hips from the grip of my thighs
and  slowly pressing his head down toward that oozing place between
my legs.   "I mean here.  I just can't go home with you dripping out
of me.  I  can't take the chance I'll be discovered!  Help me!"  And
with  that, I pushed him to the floor, his shoulders below my
crotch, then threw my  legs high in the air and took his head
tightly between my thighs.  I  squeezed, and pulled his face into
me.  "Yes!" I cried.  
 
He had no chance to escape at all, on his knees and weighted down
by the  legs I'd wrapped about his head.  But he cooperated
voluntarily!  I  felt his tongue slowly emerge as if from a cocoon
and then burrow about in my  slit.  Slowly good feelings began to
rise up in me again, and soon his  face was all over my pussy while
my ass was writhing and slithering all over  the soaked couch
cushion.  Then as I orgasmed yet one more time and my  cunt pulsed,
the rest of our blended glop pushed, practically squirted into  his
mouth.  "Swallow it!" I hissed intensely.  "Don't let it drip  onto
the sofa!"  
 
Swallow he did!  As if it mattered, what else happened to the sofa!  
Mostly it was his cum -- mine was squishing in the couch cushion
beneath  me.  This man was a prize!  What was wrong with Janice?
 
But now it was time to perform the rest of the scenario, R&R,
regret  and remorse!  I began it as abruptly as I'd begun my
seduction.
 
"Oh, I do so want to see lots more of you, Jeff honey.  You're  so
lovely!  Your passion overwhelms me.  But I feel so terribly  guilty
that I allowed you to do this to me.  And now I'm terribly  afraid! 
Not just for me, for you too!  My husband Ron, you've seen  him,
he's so strong, and he has such a violent temper.  He can  be
insanely jealous!  I don't know what came over me!  If the  least
breath of this gets out we'll both regret it for the rest of  our
lives.  Or I will for the rest of mine -- you're not likely  to
survive after Ron finds out."  
 
His face looked up at me, wide-eyed with surprise and gleaming with
cum  and saliva.  My thighs were now loosely draped across his
shoulders,  quite comfortable.  I could do this for as long as it
took.  I  threw an arm across my eyes and began to sob as if
overcome by shame and  humiliation.
 
Gradually his breathing returned to normal, and his customary
timidity  returned too.  He was rather sweet -- the man had no
bravado at  all.  He really was a dork.  A pussy.  "My God!"  he
said.  "You're right!  He could kill me, and even if he doesn't,  if
Janice  finds out she'll divorce me!  No doubt of it!  We  can't let
anyone suspect!  What have I done?"
 
He hadn't, I'd done it, and in record time, too, but this was not
the  moment to correct the books on that score.  I tried to look as
pale and  wan and desperate as I needed to sound.  "Oh!" I began to
sob.   "Everyone will know soon enough!  You'll talk!  I know it! 
Men  always boast about their conquests!   The gossip will  spread
everywhere!  My life is over!  Yours too!  And Ron will  spend the
rest of his life in jail for your murder!  Oh, God, how  awful!"
 
"No," he exclaimed, his voice strained, but trying like a gentleman
to  reassure me though as fearful for his own life as for mine or
Ron's.   "No, no, don't worry, I'll never say anything!  It never
happened!   Nothing happened!"  He didn't sound persuasive,
especially with his face  suspended over my quim and his chin still
dripping his own cum.
 
"But it did!  We're lost!  How else can we explain this?"   With
both hands I rubbed the huge, sticky stain on the couch cushion  now
spread out on both sides of my butt.  It actually did squish!   Had
I pissed into it unawares at the height of my throes?   That'd
happened once or twice before.  "Can we deny what this is?   Janice
will know in a heartbeat!  Or she'll ask you what it is, and  you'll
break down and confess everything, and then to avenge herself on  me
she'll tell Ron!  Then we're both dead!"  
 
"No," he said again with much less assurance.  "I'll scrub it  and
say I spilled something there.  Janice will be furious, but  she
won't imagine that it's anything ... sexual."
 
"Oh, Jeffrey, you're dreaming!  Feel it!  Sniff it!"  He  hardly
could, but he took the musky odor wafting up from my pussy as  its
equivalent.  "She'll know exactly what it is!  I'm a woman,  with my
reputation ruined I'm nothing!  You're a man, you're under  enormous
peer pressure to boast!  I need better than assurances.  I  need to
know there's no way you'll ever hint this to anyone.  That if  you
do, no one can believe you.  I need to know that your risk  of
exposure is as great as mine!  That's my only insurance."
 
"How can that be?" he asked, no doubt thinking I was asking  the
impossible.  "Who could ever arrange that?"
 
"I know how," I said in a hushed voice.  "But you'll never  be
willing to do  it!"                                                
 

"Do what?"
 
"Do something that's so shameful you'd never breathe a word of it
to  anyone.  As shameful as anything we've just done."  I decided
not  to add, "so far" -- he was too spooked to be moved by promises
of more.   "Something that disgraces your manliness so thoroughly
you'll never ever want  to spread rumors about us to anyone.  So
it'll be impossible for you to  say anything!"  I paused.  "So it'll
seem impossible that it ever  happened.  So people will think that
you aren't even interested in  girls.  Not sexually interested
anyhow.  So no one'll believe the  rumors if word ever does get out
about us."
 
Jeffrey lowered his head and looked as baffled as an ox being led
into a  slaughtering pen.  
 
"Yes, of course!" I said, as if the idea had just occurred to me.  
"There's a way!  That's how it can be!  There's a camera in  my
purse, we'll take pictures!  Then we can both feel sure that  we'll
each keep each other's secrets, and we'll both be safe even if  word
should get out, because no one will believe we'd do such a thing  if
we have the pictures to prove we wouldn't!"  
 
Another pause.  "Not only our reputations but our marriages are  at
stake, Jeffrey."  That seemed heavy enough.  But I added,  "Your
life too, it could be!"  I gazed at him earnestly, and said  no
more.
 
He just looked at me, altogether baffled..  "There's a way?"  he
asked vaguely.  "Pictures?  Pictures of what?"  I'd gotten  way too
far ahead of him.  Which is where I wanted to be, so he'd be  too
busy running to catch up to think about where he was going.
 
"Yes!  Here!  This!  This pretty brassiere!"  I  gestured at the
lacy red confection he'd brought down from Janice's  bureau
supposedly to see if my breasts needed more support,  dropped
unnoticed on the floor during my flurry to debauch him.  I  picked
it up now and dangled it, a feminine noose about to be hung  around
his neck, Then I broke it to him.
 
"You'll wear it.  Not me.  That's all it'll take!"
 
"That's all what'll take?"
 
Stolid and stunned, he understood nothing.  I rolled  on
enthusiastically as if I didn't notice.  "You'll wear it with  some
of the things that go with it!  Of course!  Then I'll take  pictures
of you and then if word ever got out about us, I could show  them
around, and then who'd ever believe that we'd had sex?  That  I'd
ever be the slightest bit interested in you?  Or you in me!"
 
"What?"
 
"Honey, concentrate.  Here's my plan.  We'll dress you up to  look
like a girl, and take a few pictures of you looking really cute! 
I  bet you would be, too, though that won't matter, chances are
those pictures  won't ever be seen by anyone.  They'll just assure
me that you'll never  say anything about this, because if you did,
I'd be forced to show them  around, and then you'd be disgraced. 
Right?"  
 
"I guess," he said.  He was following me now, all right.  There  was
now genuine fear in his eyes.
 
"Who'd see you dressed that way and believe for a moment that
you're man  enough for me?  I'm married to a guy who's all guy.  Ron
would  never believe I could feel attracted to an effeminate pussy,
a man who wears  women's clothes!  I mean, someone who looks as if
he actually wants a  pussy of his own, not the cock he's got.  Or
maybe wants someone else's  cock for the sucking.  A crossdressing
sissy girl.  As gay as they  come!"
 
"Gay?"  He was catching on.  I think.
 
"Actually, transgendered.  But most people don't know  the
difference.  Most people think that men who want to look like  women
are gay, that they want to look like women so they can attract men.  
As if gay men, men who are attracted by other men, can be be
attracted by  someone who looks like a woman!  But no matter, people
think gays are  sissies and sissies are gay, so most people would
assume you're queer!   Ron would, and that's what's important!  I'd
feel safer if I had  pictures of you pretending to be a woman.  And
if you did, you'd feel  safer too, because Ron can be .... terrible
in his wrath!"
 
Strike while the iron is hot.  Make hay while the sun shines.   A
penny saved is a penny earned, I suppose.  Time to earn the penny.  
"Here," I said, holding the bra out to him.  "Put this on.   Let's
see if it fits!"  I knew it would of course.  Then next stop,  up to
Jeffrey and Janice's bedroom to get the rest of the gear Janice  had
set aside for him.  Soon to be Janice's bedroom exclusively.   "Do
it!"                                      
 
"I don't know how," he said in a low voice, looking down.  
 
Not 'whether' but 'how'!  Miraculously, he'd bought in!   My
argument had worked!  I hooked that bra behind his back while  he
looked on dazed, and I pulled his flesh into the cups while he
watched  bewildered, and there they were, a quite respectable set of
titties, not  large, but noticeable.  I then took him by the hand
and led him upstairs  into the bedroom he still shared with his
wife, as far as he knew.  His  thin shoulders looked quite feminine
under the bra straps -- he'd really look  lovely in a spaghetti
strap or halter top, I was thinking, I'd love to get  him dressed up
properly!  Full head of hair, not much anywhere  else.  He wasn't
much of a man except when his cock was pre-heated, but  he'd make a
fine girl!  This was such fun!  
 
An hour later my camera was filled with shot after shot of  Jeffrey
posing in high heels, garter belt and net stockings, then in  his
leather miniskirt and a decollete blouse.  Finally, in one  of
Janice's long brunette wigs while wearing full facial make-up.   He
actually did look pretty!   He's been wasted, all these years as  a
man, I kept thinking as I added garment after garment to his body
and  snapped picture after picture.  There are surely better uses
for him  than this, than merely humiliating him so Janice can
intimidate him into a  bigger divorce settlement.  I was still ahead
of schedule.  Janice  wasn't due to break in on our debauchery for
a bit longer.  There was  still time for me to give my budding
thoughts further consideration.  
 
"Have you ever sucked a cock, honey?" I asked him suddenly, girl  to
girl, as it were.  "It's so nice, pleasing a man orally.   They're
always so grateful.  Here, sit down and lean back, let me show  you
how we girls do it."
 
And before he could say anything or even back away, I lifted up  his
skirt and pulled down his panties, just enough for his  quite
respectable cock to pop out.  Then I enclosed it in my  mouth.  It
grew to its full extended size almost immediately.
 
"Mmmmm, you like taking cocksucking lessons, don't you," I said. 
"Well,  let's see if we can teach you how to be the best cocksucker
in the  world."  
 
And for ten minutes I licked, sucked, and stroked his penis with  my
tongue and lips, now and then enclosing it tightly, as if my upper
lips  were the lips of my vagina and I was spasming in orgasm, a few
times taking  it deep into my throat.  Each time he seemed close to
cumming I stopped  and delivered a little lecture about whatever I
had just done, then briefly  demonstrated it again.  I simply
wouldn't let him cum.  He was soon  whimpering with frustration.   
 
"Now you," I said.  "Doesn't your wife keep a dildo or  vibrator
somewhere here?  Let's see what you've learned.  Let's see  if you
can please me the same way."  
 
 
 
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