Teased

by Gingerfred Man

 

Chapter One – Innocence

It wasn't my fault. Those things I did with my stepson. Anyone would have caved. He was so…..

Well, let me tell you about it and you make up your own mind.

I married Jamie's mother after a six-month office romance. I knew Rita was divorced and had a kid, but she was and is an extraordinarily hot babe. She was 38 when we were married and I was 47 and divorced, with no kids. Jamie was 15.

Rita and I had been dating about three months when I asked her to marry me. She was kind and sweet and draining my ball bag several times a day. I felt like an 18-year-old around her. I wanted her sweet pussy, tight asshole and cocksucking mouth for life. And her pleasing personality and intellect as well, of course.

I have to admit that Rita warned me about Jamie. "He's not like most boys," she would say before I even met him.

"In what ways?" I asked.

"He's a sweet, kind, boy," she said. "Not like a lot of those roughnecks."

I was skeptical about that evaluation, coming from Jamie's mother. Most mothers think their serial-killer sons are merely misunderstood.

"But there are other things too," Rita continued. "He has lots of guy friends, and they're some of the most popular boys at school. He's always going to the gym with them and working out."

I had seen a few pictures of Jamie and he was small and kind of wimpy looking. Definitely not the "gym rat" type. Hmmm.

"And he's very affectionate. Harry," she said to me. "He was always that way with his father (the no-good piece of garbage), until he left us for an 18-year-old, blonde, airhead slut. I just know Jamie will take to you."

That was a very accurate prediction on Rita's part. Very accurate.

A week after we were engaged, I met Jamie for the first time.

I kind of knew right away there was a problem, but I played it down in my mind, since I was so hot for his mother.

Most teenagers are sullen and nasty. I was ready for that. What I didn't expect from Jamie was his friendliness. Jamie was a boy, I deduced, who wanted a father very badly. Even though I had had no experience, Jamie picked me for the job.

The first time Jamie and I met was when Rita invited me for dinner at their house. Before that, Rita and I had gone on our dates from work, or Rita came to my house. She said that she didn't want to get Jamie's hopes up until we were engaged.

That night, I showed up on time at their very comfortable, middle-class home on a quiet street. I had flowers for Rita and a big box of chocolates for Jamie (who knew what a teenage boy wanted?).

Rita answered the door, gave me a nice kiss, and fussed over the flowers.

Then she said, "Jamie, Dear! Harry's here."

Jamie burst into the living room. He was smiling broadly, the first surprise. Despite his mother's gushing, I expected Jamie to see me a rival for his mother's affections. Or at least, a pissed-at-the-world-cause-it's-there teenager. No and no.

The second surprise was his appearance. He was beautiful. A terrible word to describe a boy. And me, a fiercely hetero man, saying it. But he was beautiful. It was a warm night and Jamie was wearing very short shorts and his feet were bare. They were pretty feet. Girlish. And his legs were better than his mother's. I evilly pictured them encased in silky, black stockings. Where did that image come from? His face was gorgeous. I mean it should have been on the cover of Seventeen. Even without make-up he would have been a finalist at Miss America. I imagined him with foundation, blush, lipgloss, eyeliner, eyeshadow and mascara. He would romp through the Atlantic City pageant. They would rename it the Jamie Pageant. His lashes were an inch long.

Was he really a boy?

Reacting on instinct, I glanced at his crotch. Omigosh. There was a little tent in his shorts. Very little, but a stiffie.

As if that weren't bad enough, he came up to me and hugged me. Then he looked at me and his eyes filled with tears.

For the first time, I heard the angel speak. His voice tinkled as he said, "Oh, Mr. Robbins, I'm so happy that you and Mama are in love and that you'll be my Daddy."

What would you have done? I didn't want it. I didn't invite it. But Mr. Woodrow visited my pants.

I PRAYED that no one noticed. No one said anything. But I was mortified nonetheless. Had I suddenly become gay? At my age? For a 15-year-old boy?

Regaining my wits, but not my limpness, I said, "Please, Jamie. Call me Harry."

Jamie only smiled. He was going to call me Daddy forever. I knew it.

We sat down and talked a while about his school and stuff, but I was very uncomfortable. I was so effing attracted to a boy who had to be gay. Didn't he?

 

Thank goodness I kept my wits about me and kept up my end of the conversation.

Rita cooked a great dinner, which was the best news of the night. Fucking is great, but you have to eat too. After dinner, the front bell rang and Jamie's ride for a trip to the gym came in.

Brian, one of Jamie's many friends, was a VERY good-looking young man who was 16, muscular, and very manly. He was a football player and had two cheerleader girlfriends. Yet, he and Jamie were going to the gym to work out. Jamie grabbed his gym bag, kissed his mother, then me <gasp> goodbye, and left with Brian in Brian's car.

I didn't know for sure what was going on, but I had strong suspicions.

Strong suspicions.

Rita said, "Jamie won't be home for three hours. Wanna play slap and tickle?"

I did. But not with her. Still, any port in a storm. Rita was a beautiful, horny port. And there was a powerful storm brewing in my pants.

I fucked Rita hard and fast, dreaming forbidden dreams and cringing at many of my thoughts.

The only thing I knew for sure at that point was that no matter what Rita thought, Brian and Jamie were nowhere near a gym.

 

Chapter Two – Caught

Later, when I caught Jamie and confirmed my suspicions, I wasn't sure who had been "caught," me or him?

In the three months Rita and I were engaged, I had dinner at her house at least once a week. Jamie was always there, at least for the dinner part. After dinner, he would always "go off to the gym" with his gym bag and a succession of hunky teenage guys. The pre-dinner and dinner contact I had each time with Jamie had me so worked up that I gave his poor mother a hard and thorough fucking, repeated at least twice. Rita was delighted that "she" aroused me so much. She offered her pussy, ass and mouth for my pleasure.

I was beginning to question Rita's astuteness. Didn't she see what a hot little piece of ass her son was? Didn't she see the effect Jamie had on me and every other male Jamie came in contact with? I would go home at night, after three ball-busting orgasms with Rita, and lie on my bed stroking my big boy and dreaming of Jamie. I would imagine that I was one of those boys taking Jamie to "the gym" and that Jamie's gym bag was filled with girish lingerie. Instead of the gym, of course, I would bring Jamie to my house, where he would strip naked for me, exposing his endless beauty, then girlie up with make-up and a pretty nightie. Sometimes I would imagine the details of our dream lovemaking, but most of the time, just imagining Jamie naked was enough to send me into a whimpering, gut-tearing orgasm.

Reality wasn't much easier for me to handle. As the wedding got closer, Jamie became more and more affectionate with me. He would kiss me on the cheek and hug me when he saw me and when he left me. That would give me a raging Woodrow, which was so stiff that it stood straight enough to avoid detection. A month before the wedding, Jamie began to call me "Daddy." Each time he said that it was like a taser blast on my balls.

Then there was the lap business. Two weeks before the wedding, I was sitting in an easy chair in Rita's living room having a beer as Rita puttered around fixing dinner. While she was in the kitchen, Jamie appeared.

I began to pray that I wouldn't get a hardon. The prayer never had a prayer, because Jamie was wearing cutoff shorts so brief, I could see the bottom part of his perfect, pink asscheeks. Ohhhhh. His feet were bare and I averted my eyes, because I had been fantasizing often lately about sucking those little wigglers until he blew his cummies. I was so bad.

But so was Jamie. He was wearing a tiny tshirt that exposed his cute bellybutton and sweet hips. Man was not meant to endure such torments. Especially hetero man.

I knew he was going to kiss me hello, but my Johnson was so stiff, I couldn't stand. So the worst happened. Jamie squealed with happiness to see me, ran over to me, and sat in my lap. His bottom was on my thighs and his hip rubbed my cock. Oh, it was humiliating. For both of us, I thought. But Jamie just seemed to rub against me harder, throwing his arms around me and kissing me. He even put one big, but brief smacker on my lips.

Unnnhhhh. I wanted to get away. I wanted to get away with Jamie, throw him on his back, put my thing into him and fuck him for the rest of my life.

Was all that squealing and hugging and "Oh, Daddy! It's wonderful to see you. I love you" just innocent, boyish love for a father figure? Or was it a little prickteaser's way of controlling his new stepfather?

When Rita walked into the room and saw Jamie on my lap, I thought the game was up. She would recognize my lustful attraction, throw me out, call the police and perhaps my first-grade nun, and maybe even shoot me for defiling her son.

Instead, Rita said, "Oh, that's so cute. I wish I had my camera. I love to see my two favorite men getting along. Let's go, boys, dinner's ready."

Huh?

Maybe I was reading more into things than was really there. Of course, it was hard to misinterpret the big kiss on the lips, with the tiniest hint of tongue, which Jamie had given me just before he got off my lap to go to dinner. He stood in front of me, smiled, and then turned sideways to reveal a silhouette of his beautiful body. Including the tiny, but evident stiffie that was tenting his little, cut-offs.

He knew. He knew I knew.

What was I to do?

The next day, I got a message at work that I was to come at 5:30, instead of the usual 7, to Rita's house for dinner. Rita usually didn't get home until 6:30. There was no reason given, but I tried to accommodate Rita's wishes when I could. I should have suspected when I noticed that Rita didn't deliver the message in her own voice on a voicemail. It was an email from Rita's personal address.

I arrived at 5:30 and thought it odd that Rita's car was not outside. I had my own key, so I let myself in.

I wondered idly if Jamie were home. What would I have done if he were? We had never been alone. A few days before the wedding would be a bad time for the groom to be arrested for child molesting.

I brought Rita's mail in, and, when Jamie didn't rush to greet me, as he usually did, I breathed a bit more easily.

Heavy breathing was what got me in trouble that day, however. Not mine.

I walked around downstairs a bit, wondering where Rita was. Then I heard noises from upstairs. Heavy breathing. Little grunts. Gasps and whimpers. A bed squeaking. My first thought was a bad one. Rita was upstairs betraying me with the mailman. That was completely untrue.

But I needed to see for myself. Quietly, I scaled the stairs. The sex sounds got much louder and gained in intensity. Someone was getting fucked hard by someone who was about to cum.

Rita's door was open. And her room was empty. Whew. A relief.

But that meant…..

The smart thing for me to do would have been to walk away. Jamie was getting fucked – no doubt about that – probably by one of his gym buddies. No need to see any of that. Just walk away. That was the right thing to do.

Like a dumb teenager in a horror movie, I walked toward the sounds of sex, which were cascading from Jamie's room. The door was wide open. The crescendo was building. I peeked around the corner and changed my life forever.

Jamie was on his back being fucked by that boy Brian, whom I met the night I met Jamie. But that was the only part that made sense to me. Jamie didn't look like the Jamie I knew. Strange and impossible as it seemed, this was a far better Jamie.

Jamie was wearing a tiny, black babydoll nightie. The panties to the set had been flung to the floor, as had all of Brian's clothes. Jamie also had on silky, seamed (!!!), black stockings and killer, stiletto pumps. His stockinged legs were back and his calves were resting on Brian's shoulders as Brian pushed his considerable assets in and out of Jamie's welcoming bottomhole. Jamie's face was made-up in feminine splendor – truly the prettiest, girliest face I had ever seen. His beautiful eyes were moist in the agony of orgasm, which had gripped his incredible body. I caught glimpses of his little three-and-a-half-inch peeny as it ejaculated thick globs of creamy juice. Brian was in ecstasy as well as he groaned and pumped his Love's ass with every drop of the bounty of his manly balls.

I shuddered with lust, then humiliated myself by cumming in my pants. I was wearing khakis and thought idly how I would have to run home and change them before seeing Rita.

But that humiliation was minor.

Jamie opened his beautiful eyes, turned his head toward me (as I stood dumbfounded), and smiled at me. Just smiled.

I panicked.

I bolted from his doorway, took the stairs two at a time, got in my car and drove home.

 

Chapter Three – Married Life

Rita and I were married in a lovely ceremony attended by 200 people, but I only had eyes for one of them – Jamie. Thank goodness Rita seemed to be completely oblivious to my attraction to her delicious son.

After I saw Jamie in all his feminine, coital splendor, he had eased off on me a bit. Letting me cool down until I married his mother, then took her to Jamaica for two weeks of rum and cum.

During that two weeks, as I fucked Rita again and again, in every willing orifice, I found myself thinking of the one I left behind – beautiful, sensuous, teasing Jamie.

I was racked with guilt. What I ached for was wrong – on every level. I was in love with Rita. Thinking the way I did was a betrayal of the worst sort. And any acts were illegal in every state and most foreign countries. Plus, it was h-o-m-o!!!!! I was not a fag. Nope. Not me. Uh uh.

But there I was. Dreaming of the sight of Brian pounding his cock into the tightest, hottest pussy in the world. Belonging to the world's prettiest babe. With a little peeny as an add-on bonus. All those boys who took Jamie "to the gym," they knew what I felt. And those feelings were not gay.

On our honeymoon, I often wondered what was going on back at Rita's (now our) house. Rita's brother Jake was going to stay with Jamie while I was gone. Would Jake be fucking Jamie? The thought made me outrageously jealous.

When we returned from our honeymoon, Rita was exceedingly happy. She loved me very much and was very impressed by my sexual prowess, she said. That made me guilty too. I was only fucking my wife so well because I was dreaming about my stepson. Groooaaannnn!

I remember how Jamie ran up to us at the airport when we returned. He hugged and kissed his mother first, then me. On the lips. Oh, please no. I had another big erection, which I had to conceal with my coat.

Jake had brought Jamie to the airport and I studied his face and actions for clues to whether he had been porking his nephew. The results were inconclusive.

Driving home, Jake drove his car and Rita, who says she gets sick riding in the back seat, rode shotgun. That put Jamie and me alone in the back seat. Double groan.

Rita was Chatty Cathy about the honeymoon, speaking almost constantly the whole way home. I wanted to join in the conversation, but I was overcome by the presence of Jamie. So close.

The little teaser said, "I love you, Daddy! I missed you and Mom so much. Though Uncle Jake and I did have fun."

What was that supposed to mean?

Then he leaned over, hugged me, and put his head on my shoulder.

My prick was stiff and pounding. And Jamie knew it.

Rita interrupted her monologue about a shop we visited in Kingston long enough to say, "I think it's so cute the way Jamie, unlike most males, can show affection. And I'm super-happy that you can show it back to Jamie, Harry. Very pleased indeed. I'll show you how pleased I am later. <Giggle>"

Jake kidded Rita about being a horny newlywed. She laughed, then went back to her monologue.

Jamie kept nuzzling against me. Then he held his head back a little, closed his eyes and opened his mouth for a kiss.

Omigosh.

Something I wanted very badly was right there for the taking. Right there. But it was so…. Rita was….. I wasn't…… Oh, crap!

I kissed Jamie right on the mouth. Holy cow! He slipped me the tastiest tongue I had ever licked. He moaned almost inaudibly. We held the kiss for only about ten seconds. But a big line had been crossed and we both knew it.

The rest of the night passed without incident, except for the huge flow of body fluids I passed to Rita on several occasions. Make no mistake. Rita was a great piece of ass. If Jamie hadn't been her son, we would have been very happy. Instead of tormented.

The next morning, Rita had to leave for work super early. I wasn't scheduled to go back until the next day, so I was assigned the million errands that had piled up while we were gone.

I gave Rita a nice goodbye fuck at around five a.m. I fell back to sleep until she kissed me goodbye at six, then I fell back to sleep until it happened.

I was having an incredible dream about lying on a cloud being sucked off by an angel. It was a very realistic dream. So realistic that when I awoke, I was living it.

Jamie was in bed with me. He was completely naked and so was I. No girlie clothes. No make-up. Just a boy. With a mouthful of my cock. Swirling his tongue around the head. My poor cock, despite its intense work of the previous night and morning, was stiff and drippy.

Was I dreaming?

Please let it be a dream.

It wasn't.

When Jamie saw my horrified expression, he stopped sucking, looked at me and said, "Good morning, Daddy. Am I doing it right for you? I hope so. I want to make you very happy."

Not only was it illegal and wrong, it was gay! Where was all his girlie stuff? Had he left it at "the gym?" Was he trying to super-embarrass me? Was he "playing" me?

He really was beautiful, you know. As a girl or a boy. And he could teach his mother, who was very good, a thing or two about cocksucking.

I can honestly say that I had never been more sexually aroused in my life than I was at that moment.

Then things changed.

The beautiful boygirl released my cock and got on his back. He held his knees up to his chest, exposing his girlish pussy to me in all its wrinkled glory. I could also see an exquisite little package of girlish privates – a tiny cock and pretty set of sissy stones in a tasty little bag.

"Please love your little sissy, Daddy. Please. I love you so much and I lubed my pussy so nice for you. All you need to do is put that big, hard, gorgeous thing in me. Please, Daddy!!!! I'll put my calves on your shoulders and you can push your thing in and out of me all day until Mommy comes home. Please, Daddy. I need you. I love you, Daddy."

I wish I could say that I resisted, but my brain had slid from my head, all the way down to my cock. I wanted that pantyboy more than anyone in my life. More than all of them combined.

I mounted him, covering his teeny frame with my big body. I kissed his mouth, sucking his tongue. I rubbed his penis against mine. He moaned in helpless lust. Or maybe that was me.

Things were too warm for preliminaries. I slid one luscious leg over each shoulder, put my cock at paradise's gate, and pushed.

Ohhhhhhhh. It slid in as if the sheath had been made for the sword.

Jamie screamed, which drove me even wilder with lust. I began to pound the dollbaby's pooper – in and out – with long thrusts.

His mother loved being fucked, but Jamie was crazy for my cock. He darn near spoke in tongues as I pleasured his bowels. Clearly, the pantyboy had had many large visitors back there. He took my gargantuan creature with ease and milked me with delicious muscular skill.

Jamie was begging me, "Fuck me, Daddy. Oh, Daddy. Fuck me. I love you, Daddy. Fuck me forever!"

He was very hot inside. And his ass juices were slick and sexy.

I was assaulted by all of my senses and, even though I had been fucking Jamie's mother only an hour earlier, I was cumming hard and copiously into the tightest, sexiest pussy I had ever been in.

I was in ultimate ecstasy. I wanted to fuck that ass ten times a day for the rest of my life.

Then I was in ultimate despair. I was gay. I was an adulterer. I was a child molester. I was an idiot.

I was lying on my back, my chest heaving, letting my delicious stepson lick my poopy cock clean. Where did he learn to suck cock like that? Oh, yeah. "The gym."

Jamie stopped sucking for a second and locked eyes with me. "That was the best ever for me, Daddy. Did you like it? Did I please you? I was giving myself to you, Daddy. I'm yours forever, Daddy."

I groaned with equal parts of shame, fear and lust. What would Rita do when she discovered what I had done? Would she go to the police? Would she go to the kitchen knives?

Jamie saw my discomfort, but may have misinterpreted it. "Oh, Daddy. I'm sorry. I should have 'gotten pretty' for you before we made love. You probably think I'm a little faggot or something. I'm not. I'm going to take a shower, then get pretty for you, Daddy."

The little teaser gave my cockhead a 360 with his hot, wet tongue, then stood and shook his perfect ass to the bedroom door. He stood in the door and said, "You can join me in the shower if you want, Daddy."

My brain was rapidly relocating to my cock. I actually considered getting in the shower with Jamie and fucking his bottom raw.

I laughed at my stupidity for even thinking that. Then I heard the shower go on in his bathroom. Seconds later, I was in the shower with Jamie, kissing him as if I were starving and he was the only food left in the world.

His hair was full of shampoo and I decided to use some of it to lubricate his cock. I stood behind him, kissing his neck, reveling in his squeals of joy. I reached around his right hip and held his cock for the first time. It was small and feminine. And very sensitive. He was in flames when I rubbed it. Oh I loved bringing that perfect angel pleasure. Was it any wonder that I stuck my rammer into his pussy yet again. I rubbed his popsy as I fucked his bottom. He reacted as a girl would. No. As the perfect girl would. The one I had dreamed about but never met. Until that day. He was hungry and needy and sexy and grateful. He was loving and giving and taking and randy as blazes. And he was drop-dead, fucking beautiful. Even naked. In his boy body. With no clothes or make-up.

Would he really dress for me and let me fuck him in all his feminine glory?

As you can see, dear reader, I was lost.

Or found. My cock was pushing in and out of a place it never wanted to leave.

Jamie was gasping hard. Then he said, "Oh, Daddy. You're so wonderful! I'm going to cum now, Daddy. You're making me cum. Unnnnnnnnnnnnnnhhhh."

I had never held a cock (other than my own) as it spewed its goo. Watching Jamie's sweet cream spurt was a beautiful experience for me. Fantastic. His little balls pulled up and he drenched my hand with his juices. Ohhhhhhh. I was sorry we were in the shower. I wanted those juices.

Jamie's orgasm made his ass contract in a way that made my "little gentleman" very happy. It was as if a velvet vise had gripped my cock. I cried out and pumped my manly goo into that sissy angel's bottom.

Was I in love? Was I crazy?

Probably and definitely.

When we got out of the shower, I was so agitated that I could barely focus my eyes. I sat on the toilet seat, naked and dripping from the shower. Jamie dried himself off, gave me a big, deep, kiss, handed me a dry towel and said, "I'm going to pretty myself up for you now, Daddy. You just relax. I'll be in to see you in a half hour."

My cock twitched as he kissed me again, wiggled the prettiest bottom in the world in my direction, looked over his shoulder to smile and wave to me, then disappeared.

Where did he learn to do that? What man could resist that?

I shook my head to rouse myself from the mental theme park where my brain had been vacationing. This was over! I was going to get dressed and go out to do my errands. That would clear my head. Errands. I would just tell Jamie that we had made a terrible mistake. Several terrible mistakes. But it was over. Finished. Hasta la vista. Someone had to be the grown-up and that was going to be me.

Brimming with resolve, I shaved, then got into my underwear, khakis, sweatshirt, socks and shoes. I combed my hair and changed the sheets (very important). The cum-drenched linens were going into the washer and then I was off to the grocery store, post office, yadda, yadda. Resolve. That was what I had to do.

Then Jamie walked into my bedroom.

And Resolve left the building, took a cab to the airport and flew to Bora Bora.

Oh. He was the most delicious, sexual sight I, or any other man, ever saw. His make-up and the come-fuck-me expression behind it promised intense, forbidden, bedroom delights from a sensual, sexual woman.

Make no mistake, the Jamie I saw was feminine. Anyone who saw her would defend that observation with his life.

She was wearing a long, blonde, curly wig and a pink bustier that exposed perfect pink nipples. The bustier's six straps connected to pink, fully-fashioned, silky sheer stockings that led to pink, four-inch stiletto pumps. Her sheer pink panties didn't really conceal her spectacular, girlish peeny and testicles. One could also see the cleft in her plump, heart-shaped buttocks.

When she saw that I was dressed, she made the saddest, poutiest face in history and said, "Why are you leaving me, Daddy. Don't you love me?"

<Gulp>

<Gulp>

How could I……. What should I……….

Be honest. What would you have done? I mean really. Would you have left to go squeeze the fruit in aisle 16? Or would you have stayed to squeeze the creamy juices from an angel's little pink bag?

I chose door number two. Heaven help me!

When I didn't run screaming from the house, Jamie knew she had me. She was unworldly. She could cloud men's minds, or at least stiffen their cocks, which is really the same thing.

I stood frozen. Sweat had formed on my upper lip. It was the sweatshirt I was wearing. Suddenly, I was too warm. I took the sweatshirt off. Then my pants. Jamie smiled. Did she enjoy controlling me like that? Obviously. But I didn't care.

A few seconds later, I was naked and rampant. My clothes were in a pile. I surrendered to animal instinct, something I would recommend we all do much more frequently.

Jamie stepped toward me and I was the guy at the buffet with all my favorites and the time to eat them.

We hadn't really done much kissing and suddenly, I wanted that very much. I drew her to the bed. I lay on my right side; she was on her left. She acted a little shyly, which stoked my fire even more.

Her glossed lips were huge. I kissed them, softly at first, then with a hunger I never knew I had. When she gasped and moaned, I thought I would cum right then. I kissed her again, sucking her tongue and cupping her soft bottom with both hands. We kissed for a long time, exploring each other's bodies with our hands as we did so. My ears were on fire and I was sure that steam was coming out of them.

After a good half hour, as she was still kissing me, Jamie began to rub my cock as she sucked my tongue. No one had ever given me a hand job half as good. The kissing was fantastic and the smell of her perfume had me in a full dither. She murmured something about me being "so big, so hot, so hard." Then, and this was the killing blow, she stroked my cockhead and said, in a perfect little-girl voice, "I love you Daddy. You're the perfect Daddy and I'll love you forever. Cum for me, Daddy. Plleeaassee!!!!!!!!!"

Now see. You say that you could have resisted all that. You wouldn't have fucked her the first time, let alone the second or the 100^th. And you wouldn't have cum when she did that "little girl loving her Daddy" stuff. But you weren't there. I was. And I blew a major load into her hand and all over her pink bustier. She milked every drop out of me, first on my cock, then with a ball massage that was going directly into the ball-massage hall of fame.

I was exhausted. And scared. And filled with shame. But just a teensy bit less fear and shame that the last time. With guys, in the end, the need for great pussy is our strongest instinct, stronger than any emotion. And there's no doubt that Jamie was great pussy.

When my consciousness, which had left my body and was rotating around the earth, returned to my body, I had two things on my mind. I wanted to kiss, lick and suck those pouty, bare, erect little nipples Jamie was flaunting and <blush> I wanted to suck Jamie's cock and swallow her cum.

The little prickteaser was on her back whimpering for something just like that to happen, so we had an agreement.

Nipples first, I decided.

A good choice. Jamie was almost flat-chested, but she had just a little lift to her nipple area that I had never seen in a boy. Was she getting "help" in that area? No matter. I got on top of her, straddled her body, and kissed her mouth, then her neck, then her upper chest, then trailed my kisses to her left nipple. It was very erect, very pink and extraordinarily beautiful. When my lips brushed against it, Jamie gasped. When I touched the tip of my tongue to it, she moaned. When I licked it, lovingly and steadily, she squealed, the said, "Daddy, I…..unnnnhhhhh"

Sissy sperm was flying from her popsy in cute, creamy globs.

Each spurt I witnessed sent a shock wave into my balls. I had just made the most beautiful person on earth ejaculate helplessly. Now I was going to feast on that ejaculation.

It goes without saying, though I'll say it, that I had never sucked a cock before. Did I mention that I'm not gay? Yet, if I hadn't sucked Jamie's doodle at that exact moment, I convinced myself that I would not have survived for five minutes more.

Some of the babydoll's spermies were on her tummy; some were on her bustier. Some had even dribbled onto the sides of her peener and even <blush> into the wispy hairs that crowned her privates. Some had even drooled down onto her pretty ball bag.

My plan – lick up every drop – then kiss, lick and suck her "down there" until I get a fresh load, right into my mouth.

A sound plan, don't you think?

I thought for a microsecond that I was about to cross a line guys didn't cross. Fuck the line.

I began to lick a nice little puddle of sissy cream that had formed by the angel's belly button. Touching it with my tongue, then lapping it up, I was pleased with its pleasant taste. Of course, I had tasted my own goo out of curiosity, but Jamie's girlish seed tasted, I don't know, girlier.

What I really liked was Jamie saying, "That's wonderful, Daddy. I love you.'

She kept saying nice things as I licked what I could from her pink bustier and poised my lips over her privates. I looked at her eyes, just before I dove into her doodle, and I saw only love and sexual need. No guile. Maybe she wasn't a manipulative prickteaser. Even if she was, I was not seeing much of a downside at that lovely moment.

I kissed her wet, sticky pricklet, right on the peelips. The sweetest little drop of goo slid out. I licked it into my mouth and rolled it on my tongue. Then I took my darling stepson's entire penis into my mouth and gave it an earnest licking and sucking. The enjoyment of the experience was heightened for me tremendously by some incredible noises of appreciation Jamie was making in response to my amateurish efforts. She was grunting and moaning and gasping and panting. She was squealing out her love for her Daddy and getting stiffer and hotter and then she screamed, "Oh, Daddy!!!!!!!!!!" and thick globs of hot cream scorched my mouth. The little doll was shuddering and cumming hard. I tried to swallow it all, but in my inexperience, dribbles ran down either side of my mouth and onto my chin.

I adored every moment of it and all fear and shame were gone. For the moment.

My pretty doll was senseless after her cum, until I began to lick the cum flecks from her little quail eggs. She liked that. When I had cleaned her privates of cum, she drew me to her for a big, cummy kiss, licking her own goo from my face as she promised me her undying love.

OK. New plan. I was going to pack all of Jamie's and my stuff, put her in my car and head for the airport. We would then fly to a country with no extradition treaty with the USA, rent a shack, and fuck until one or both of us died. It had flaws, sure, but it was the best plan, based on my feelings at that moment.

Jamie and I kissed for a long time after that. I was hopelessly in love with her, which was not a good thing, really. She was young. I was 32 effing years older. But my cock, which was stiff as it had been when she woke me with a blowjob, was my master.

It appeared that I also had a mistress – Jamie. Whatever she would ask of me, I intended to move heaven and earth to achieve. The first thing she asked me for was quite pleasant.

"Daddy," she said. "Would you kiss my <blush> pussy like you did my privates? I want you to make love to me, but I think that after my shower, I'm too dry back there."

Oh. "Yes, ma'am. I think we can accommodate you on that" was what I was thinking, but my grunt and nod were agreement enough for Jamie.

"Stay on your back, Daddy," she said. Then she turned away from me, straddled my shoulders and slowly lowered her perfect bottom onto my face.

There was no smell, really. Other than soap. But if it had smelled like limburger cheese with onion, I still would have kissed her beautiful pink bottom all over. Her globes were plump and warm. My lips on their flesh were pleasing to my sweet baby. But she adored when I began to kiss the parts of the cheeks that come together when the angel stood. The aroma was one of raw sex.

Cautiously, I touched Jamie's rosebud with the tip of my tongue. She squealed and wiggled her bottom for more. I began to dig my tongue into her cave. She sat up straight and gasped. I began to wonder if Brian and those other gym friends of hers did what I was doing for her. Was I jealous? Oh my. What did it matter what they did? We both enjoyed it a lot.

I had eaten Rita's pussy dozens of times, but never her asshole. I made a mental note to add that to our lovemaking, assuming that Rita didn't catch her son and me in bed doing the dirty. And that I was still living say, eight hours from then.

Jamie loved a tongue in his "dirty." I loved having it there. The taste was pungent, but not unpleasant.

I was pretty sure from the pattern of her squeals that Jamie's latest load was about to breathe free air. But no.

The little cum catcher pulled off my mouth and reversed her position. She held my stiff big guy in her hand, smiled at me, then eased her moistened bottom down on it, an inch at a time. It slid in VERY nicely.

Being on top, Jamie was in charge of that fuck. She was very vocal and very enthusiastic. I loved when she leaned over so we could hug and kiss during her anal impalement. It was very intimate and, that magical ingredient of sex, dirty.

So was the messy goo she spurted all over both of us once, then again fifteen minutes later as we fucked deliciously for 45 ball-busting minutes. When my balls finally boiled over, my symptoms were stroke-like.

Middleweight boxer Roberto Duran said it best – "No mas!" I couldn't go again. It was noon and I had to do this and that before Rita came home. I had to change the sheets.

But, of course, Jamie sucked me to another stand, and I eagerly allowed her to do so. Then I fucked her for a good hour, cumming once to her three spurts.

It was almost two o'clock and I was in deep shit.

I showered, changed the sheets, kissed Jamie (dangerous – could lead to multiple orgasms) and flew out the door to do my errands.

Shockingly, I ran into no traffic, no delays and after four frantic hours, I returned home with all missions accomplished.

Jamie, in his boy persona, helped me unload and put away the groceries. When we finished, there were only ten minutes until his mother was scheduled to come home. Whew!

I was gong to talk with Jamie then about breaking things off. But he was on his knees sucking my cock and I hadn't cum in four and a half hours. I came in his mouth in an agony of delight, then drew him to me for cummy kisses until his mother pulled into the driveway.

The little teaser ran off to his room.

What was I going to do about Jamie?

 

Chapter Four – In-House Love Affair

Whatever possessed me to believe that I could be married to a woman, live with her, and fuck her sissy son whenever I wanted? Well, a good portion of that optimism was based on Rita's seeming obliviousness to Jamie's sissiness and his sexual escapades with anyone who possessed a cock.

Even that night when Jamie and I first played "hide the salami," Rita breezed in the house, kissed us both and fussed over us, then thanked me lavishly for my hard work doing errands all day.

Couldn't she see I was in love with her son's feminine self? I must admit that Jamie was a hell of an actor. In front of his mother, he acted the same way to me after I fucked him as he did before. Flirty and teasy. Affectionate and loving. But not as if he had had his pootie pounded by his stepfather most of the day.

As usual, Jamie's gym bag was packed with all the things a sissy needs to work out – a tiny nightie with matching panties; a lacy garter belt with silky stockings; ultra-sexy, towering mule sandals: and a make-up kit that would make the Rockettes' dressing room envious. I know, because I sneaked a look at it. A mega-hunky boy named Stan was the big winner that evening. Even though I had pumped a small river of baby juice into sweet Jamie's pooper earlier that day.

I was very jealous. But Rita was making major goo-goo eyes at me and I knew five minutes after Stan and Jamie left, we would be in the bedroom, my pork deeply in her pussy. But that didn't seem to make Jamie one bit jealous. That kind of ticked me off too.

See how complicated my life was? Bet you wouldn't want to be me, huh? You would? Well, let me tell you more.

The next few weeks were the best and worst of my life. I loved Rita. I really did. And I wanted us to have a life together. If Jamie could have just run off somewhere or gone to live with an aunt in Saskatchewan, that would have been great. Sort of. But that wasn't happening.

I could have just stopped fucking Jamie. Funny thing is, he probably would have said, "OK, Daddy. You're the boss." Then he would have done those things he did and I would be puncturing his pootie again.

What things? OK. How's this? One Saturday, Rita ran out to the store. Jamie and I were home alone. I stayed in the living room watching a ballgame and didn't see the little cutie for a half hour or so. I thought the femmy Jamie was going to appear at any minute and try to seduce me. That had only happened like ten or so times in the first three weeks. But that time, I was going to be good.

Then I got to wondering. What if my angel is sick? Here I am, in charge, Rita comes home and she finds her son in a coma because I'm too lazy to check on him.

Well, that's not how a responsible stepfather acts, so I walked upstairs softly to check on him. Just to see that he's breathing and all. Then right back down. A good plan.

His door was open, so I peeked in.

Jamie was in full femme mode. Her long, exquisite legs were encased in fully fashioned, tan, seamed stockings. I love tan stockings. My mother's friends wore them when I was a lad, and I wanted to fuck them all. But I digress. Jamie's pretty boobies, which I swore were growing (maybe from all the sucking I had given them), were encased in a soft, cotton bra. Her stockings were hooked to a frilly, white garter belt, over which she had pulled on pink-and-white, gingham panties. The panties had the cutest, hardest little bulge as she put the finishing touches on her perfect make-up.

I stared. Did she see me? I didn't think so. I could have backed away, gone downstairs and avoided a sin. A big sin. Maybe several. Hopefully. But I was weak.

I cleared my throat. Jamie spun around, squealed with joy and had my pants off and my cock in her mouth, then her ass, in mere moments.

I felt like a robot. A well-fucked, very-happy-at-times robot. But Jamie could tease me into anything. I wasn't alone on that, either. The day we went to the doctor, I saw it first hand.

One of the many "odd" things about Jamie that his mother didn't even think about, was his weekly shots from Dr. Sullivan, the family practitioner, who, a year earlier, had diagnosed some strange "allergy" in Jamie. Jamie usually made his own way to Sullivan's office after school on Wednesdays, but two months after our marriage, Jamie had to take his annual physical. Rita had a big meeting that day, so she asked me to take him. That meant about 90 unsupervised minutes with my little sexpot, so I eagerly agreed. Rita kissed me and said I was the best husband in the world. That kind of made me feel like a rat. But I was still going to fuck Jamie. Oh, yes.

When we got to the doctor's office, everyone knew Jamie and he was very girlie around them. Since Jamie was a minor, I was supposed to be with him when he saw the doctor. When the doctor appeared, the expression on his face told me everything I suspected was true.

Dr. Sullivan, the pervert rat, was in love with Jamie too. The love Jamie and I shared was beautiful and pure. But not with this guy. OK, he was young and hunky, but hey. I was Jamie's Daddy.

Jamie was fucking this guy to get hormones so he would have big titties, small waist, wide hips and a sweet voice. Well, that part was OK. But why was Jamie so promiscuous?

Maybe because every guy on the planet seemed to want Jamie's pussy.

Dr. Sullivan asked Jamie to disrobe and, I swear, the doctor licked his lips after he said it. Jamie did so, slowly and sensuously. He had blue satin panties on instead of his boy underwear, yet, he didn't seem embarrassed. Nor was the doctor. I was embarrassed enough for the both of them.

The teaser stood naked in front of the doctor, who was taking his own sweet time to examine my stepsissy's considerable charms.

The prostate exam lasted a good five minutes, with a squealing cum as the result of three lubed, but ungloved fingers massaging the sissy g-spot. I cleared my throat at that, but said nothing, since people who live in houses like mine shouldn't throw stones.

I always thought that it only took a few seconds to do the part where the doc grabs your balls and says "Turn your head and cough," but they lingered in that position for a long time.

At the end of the exam, the doctor said, Mr. Robbins, I wonder if I could speak to Jamie alone for a few moments?"

The poor guy's eyes pleaded with me to say yes. Jamie's eyes showed indifference to my decision. Knowing what the need for Jamie does to a man, I gave the doc a break, even though it cut my time in the sack with the sweet babe by 15 minutes that day.

Even I am capable of some charity.

 

Chapter Five – Discovery

There were really only two questions to be resolved out of all this. One -- When (not if) was Rita going to find out what was happening? Two – How would she react?

I got the answers to both questions six months and three days after we were married.

Amazing that Jamie and I got away with it that long, really.

Things started out very well that fateful weekend. Rita's mother, who lived 250 miles from us, had been asking Rita to spend a little mother-daughter time with her. Rita, who was getting more and better cock (yours truly) than she had ever had in her life, was reluctant to give that up. Even for a weekend. Who could blame her? Even though I had to service two babes, I had risen to the task. Somehow, I had been able to make love to Rita twice a day and four or five times per day on weekends, while attending to Jamie whenever we could get together for a quickie. Usually, that was when Rita went to the store or got home late from work. Sometimes I fucked Jamie while Rita was taking a shower, or even just a pee. It was all very rushed, but very dirty and very exciting. The prospect of a weekend totally with Jamie had me in a major dither.

Rita left at nine on a Saturday morning, right after I had porked her pussy until she came three times, then dropped a big gooey load in her perfect bottom. After that, she almost called her mother to say she wasn't coming. But duty prevailed, and she drove off.

Jamie kissed me deeply the moment Rita left. Then the little prickteaser told me to wait while she girlied herself up for me. It was wonderful when Jamie was able to femme herself for me. Usually, I just fucked her in her boy clothes. She still looked pretty femmy, even naked. But it seemed a little g-a-y to me, you know? As if that were the worst of my sins.

That lovely Saturday, Jamie took her time and the results were spectacular. One time, early on, I asked Jamie where she had gotten such delicious, expensive female lingerie and accessories. Her answer said very little and very much. "Men appreciate me."

Since then, I had bought Jamie loads of femmy trousseau items, though I had rarely had the opportunity to see them displayed on her gorgeous frame. The real beneficiaries, I imagined, were the "gym boys." That weekend, I was looking forward to seeing a lot of her pretty things, then removing them.

The sight of Jamie that day almost stupefied me. She had bathed, powdered and perfumed. She was wearing a little white nightie, so brief that it barely grazed her pubic hair. The breast area of the nightie had only gauzy straps, no material, so Jamie's little plums hung sweetly out there for my pleasure. Her pricklet was stiff and deep pink, with lots of gooey topping drooling from her peehole. Jamie had been letting her hair grow for months and it was displayed in two pigtails at either side of her head. She wore silky white stockings with stay-up tops and was walking easily in what appeared to be her highest sandals ever.

Jamie put her head down, looked at me through her long lashes and said, "Please love me, Daddy."

Good golly! Would I survive the weekend? Who cared?

I stood up, stripped naked, and contemplated my prize. Where would I start? My eyes were drawn to her perky nipples, so I began there. I sat on the couch, drawing Jamie to my naked lap. We kissed. Oh, it was heaven. I knew the girl was promiscuous. I knew she was a manipulator. I knew it was illegal, immoral and stupid. I didn't care.

When I began to kiss my angel's nipples, I noticed several things about them. I hadn't been able to explore Jamie at my leisure for some time and the changes in her body, from that horny doctor's shots, were remarkable. Jamie's titties had been growing so nicely. They almost filled an A-cup and would soon have to be concealed with a sash or something when she wore certain boy things.

The nipples were also hard and erect from my attentions and then I noticed….a flow. Was it my saliva? No. It was breast milk!!!

Holy cow (pun intended)! Jamie was giving milk! How?

Jamie was breathing heavily, but she gasped out an explanation. "Doctor Sullivan's special hormones. Do you like it?'

The prettiest sissy on earth and breast milk too? Jamie was going to have to register with the local PD as a dangerous weapon or something. She was beyond sexy. Into a new realm. Jaminess.

I sucked hard. Jamie yelped. "Take baby sips, Daddy," she said. "My boobies are very sensitive."

I nursed gently for a while, thinking of what a lucky guy I was to marry into a "two-fer." Two for the price of one. I was probably aging at the rate of a year every six weeks, but that was OK with me.

Jamie really enjoyed nursing me. She patted my head and told me what a good Daddy I was. There it was again. She seemed submissive, but was actually very much in charge.

If I kept doing that, Jamie would cum. I didn't want that. Jamie had spent a rare night at home the previous night, which meant that she hadn't cum for most of a day. Not only did that make her super randy, it meant her cummies would be thick and creamy. I wanted a mouthful, then a belly full of her girlish load.

Jamie whimpered softly when I stopped worshiping her nipples, but she made a cute little gasp when I took her pink jewel into her mouth. It was luscious! Hot and wet and attached to Jamie. I tripled my angel's pleasure by inserting two loving fingers into her tight bottomhole as I rolled my wet tongue around the cute mushroom of her cockhead.

The sweet pantyboy gurgled with pleasure as I assaulted her on two fronts, then, suddenly and helplessly, she ejaculated her heavenly sperm into my welcoming mouth.

I ate my tasty treat as I licked and suckled her pretty knob to prolong her pleasure as long as possible. Then I withdrew my fingers from her bottom and replaced them with my tongue. That surprised and delighted her. Moment later, it had her stiff and eager all over again. When I got my angel wet and ready, I turned her on her back, mounted her, and fucked her until I came twice without withdrawing and she came three times, screaming out her love.

I was glad we had double-pane glass. The entire police force would have broken down our door if we had not.

That was pretty much how our wonderful (up to a point) weekend went, with one big exception. Late that afternoon, as we lay in bed, our chests heaving, our bodies covered with cum, Jamie told me she was hungry. I offered her a protein supplement, but she meant for the kind of food you eat when people are watching. In a restaurant.

She wanted us to go out. Together. With her dressed as a girl.

That was new. And scary. First, what if I ran into someone I knew? Who would I say Jamie was? What if we ran into someone Jamie knew?

It didn't seem to worry Jamie at all. And, as I said, I pretty much hated to deny Jamie anything. Especially when she sucked me to another stand, than lay on her stomach, wiggling her sweet bottom at me. I fucked her deliciously one more time then we managed to keep our hands off each other long enough to bathe and get dressed.

I wore a blue suit, white shirt, red tie. Jamie wore the sun and the stars! I had never seen her dressed to go out in public. I didn't think she had ever been en femme in public.

The public had been deprived.

My doll was wearing a yellow, summer frock, tan stockings and delectable yellow strappy sandals with an obscenely high heel. She looked better than she had in that nightie with her goodies hanging out.

Seeing her like that, I was only hungry for her, but she was insistent about going out.

So we went.

I drove to a neighboring town 25 miles away, to a restaurant I had heard of, but had never been to. Though I was probably not in good enough standing to have my prayers answered, I prayed anyway. Please, don't let me meet anyone. Surprisingly, we didn't.

But we sure made an impact on strangers.

When the maitre d' saw Jamie, he was so stunned that he didn't even ask if we had reservations. Though the place was crowded with Saturday night business, he seated us immediately. Jamie glowed with the impact of the huge attention she was getting from the seated diners, both male and female.

It was no wonder. She was stunning.

I may as well have been in an Afghani chador (head-to-toe covering). Initially, no one glanced in my direction. When we were seated, they began to size me up and speculate. Was I this pin-up's father? Grandfather (Ouch)? Sugar Daddy? Gym partner?

Every man in the place was envious of me. That alone made my dick hard, but when Jamie looked at me over her menu, smiled and said, "I love you, Daddy. You're the only man I love. Those other men mean nothing to me," that melted my heart and put Mr. Johnson into Condition Red.

I was proud to be with the hottest babe in the place. And yes, you pruriently curious diners, I thought, I am fucking her.

The waiter fawned over us and even asked Jamie if she would like some wine. Did he think she was 21? I realized that her dress and her sophistication made one think Jamie was in her twenties. Hmmmmm.

Jamie and I were in a booth, seated side by side. This had its advantages. I was next to someone who had me in flames. But I couldn't do anything until we got home. Or at least to the car. We were in public.

That didn't inhibit Jamie one bit. She put her head on my shoulder as we waited for the food. I heard several gasps from the other male diners when she did that. And saw lots of disapproving looks from their wives and girlfriends over their men's crassness.

I wasn't really comfortable with Jamie doing that in public. But that was only the beginning. Jamie said, "I know you're excited, Daddy. I hate to see you in pain."

Seconds later, Jamie went trouser fishing. I felt a soft, feminine hand pulling my zipper down. I said, "Jamie, I……"

She said, "Shhhhhhhh……" Then she extracted my cock from my pants. I must say, she did an excellent job of freeing it from my underwear and everything. Amazingly good.

But back to my predicament. My cock was out in a public place. It was below table level, but I'm pretty sure that almost everyone in the place had it figured out what was going on with the babe's hand and the middle-aged guy's privates. Especially when she kissed me passionately as she skinned my foreskin up and down.

I was horribly embarrassed. And frighteningly aroused. Making a fuss would have made things worse, so I surrendered to her kisses and her excellent strokes. I closed my eyes at one point, and I realized that all conversation in the room had stopped. As had clinking of glasses and rattling of silverware. People were watching me get an under-the-table handjob. I had never been so excited. When I came into a Kleenex Jamie applied at the moment of splooge, I heard gulps all around the room. Jamie tucked me in, tucked the Kleenex into her purse, then tucked into the food, which had just arrived.

Jamie liked to walk along the edge all right. It was exciting, but I paid the tab in cash. My credit card had my name on it.

When we got into the car, I leaned over, lifted her skirts, pulled down her panties and sucked out my dessert. When we got home, I had the greatest night of my life.

Which was followed by the worst morning.

Around 8 a.m. Jamie got herself out of bed, then washed and freshly made her face up to feminine, pulchritudinal perfection. Then she come back to bed and ruined all that magnificent work by coaxing a big creamy load out of my balls and all over her face.

She refused to wash it off, saying, "It's a sissy badge of honor to have a cummy face, Daddy. It says, 'My Daddy loves me.' Why would I want to erase that?"

Good question.

Rita said she would be home mid-afternoon.

Working under that assumption, Jamie and I were in her bed. I was naked. Jamie was in a lilac babydoll with matching stockings. My most recent cum still coated her beautiful features. My cock was squarely in her ass. Her screams were audible in Latvia.

Rita surprised us at 9:23 a.m.

As it turned out, Rita missed us so much that she couldn't sleep. So she had gotten up at four and driven home. Of course we didn't get those particulars until much later.

What we got was a loud scream, then the sound of a woman fainting and falling to the floor.

Omigosh!!!!

My worst nightmare!!!

Caught in the act.

In flagrant violation.

What to do?

Jamie didn't seem all that worried. I was panic-stricken.

I considered my limited options. I could head for the airport and go to a country whose name ended in –stan. I could quickly, before Rita awoke, clean everything up and tell Rita she had been dreaming. I could beg for forgiveness.

I chose option c, but Rita didn't appear to be in any mood to forgive me.

When she awoke, she screamed at me. Called me an adulterer and a molester. Well, she had me there. Jamie got a little of it, but most was reserved for me.

Then Rita ran into the bathroom and locked the door.

I heard her sobbing and I knocked gently asking to come in, but I just got some very nasty, flaming screams shot back at me.

Jamie was just sitting there, looking cute and fuckable. Oh, was I thinking that? I was evil.

I asked Jamie to change her sheets, clean up, especially her beautiful, cummy face and change into her boy clothes, which she did. I got into a sweatshirt and khakis. Then we waited.

Racking sobs behind the bathroom door went on for a couple of hours.

Jamie sat with me for a while, but I had this strong urge, even in that time of anguish, to penetrate her pooper. I was pretty sure that that would have made things worse. So I asked her to go to another room.

The sobbing ended at 11:37. Then there was an uneasy, spooky silence for about 20 minutes. My head was on the guillotine, waiting for the blade to fall. Then the door opened.

Rita's make-up was streaked and her eyes were red and raw, but she was perfectly calm.

"I've thought about it and I know what to do," she said. "I want both of you dressed exactly as you were when I broke up your little love nest. Go tell that little tramp to get dressed. You strip naked."

This was not good, ladies and gentlemen. Not good. No. Before I saw Jamie, I ran downstairs and hid all the sharp knives. Then I told Jamie to put her lilac nightie and stockings back on. She looked at me curiously, but complied.

I stripped naked, then moved back to the master bedroom, where Rita was, so I wouldn't see Jamie and get a stiffie. That would have, I imagined, enraged Rita even more.

Rita was sitting calmly when I entered the room. Jamie arrived moments later. Rita looked at Jamie very critically and for the first time, Jamie showed fear.

"Lift your nightie," Rita ordered. When she saw Jamie's nascent boobies, she gasped.

Rita looked at me with fire. "Did you do that?"

I honestly answered no, which Jamie backed up.

Rita extracted the whole story out of both of us, including tons of stuff I learned about the men and boys in Jamie's life. I even learned where the boys took her every night. Dr. Sullivan rented a small apartment that he let Jamie use as a "stabbin' cabin" for her and her lovers. All he asked in exchange was three evenings a month with Jamie, which she cheerfully provided. Rita was shocked and extremely angry at herself for being oblivious to it all. To say nothing of how she felt about me for being an active, enthusiastic participant.

Things were calm, but I knew we were in the eye of a very nasty storm.

 

Chapter Six – Retribution

Having heard the testimony, Judge Rita considered her decision.

I had never been so scared in my life. If she went to the police or if she cut my balls off……

Rita spoke. "Stand up, Jamie and turn around."

Jamie complied. Oh, no. Despite my terror, I had a half-Woodrow again.

"Lift your skirts to your belly button, Jamie and turn around slowly."

Torture. I looked away, but just the thought made my dick stiff as iron. And I was naked.

Rita said, "Hmmm. Here's what I think. You both behaved despicably. But Jamie was at least as guilty as Harry."

I let a teeny bit of air out. Shared blame. Was that good?

Rita's eyes burned into mine. "You were the grown-up, though, Mister. You were supposed to say no."

<Gulp> I began to imagine life without testicles.

"Still," Rita said, "I married a man, not a saint, and no man ever born could resist a sissy like Jamie."

That was good for me, right?

Rita was still scowling. "Jamie, you're a dangerous pantyboy. A prickteaser and a prickpleaser without equal. You're going to have to control yourself a bit."

A bit? Did that include me? Was Judge Rita saying I could still fuck Jamie a little?

Rita said to me, "I want Jamie spanked. Now. Hard. By you. And until I say to stop."

I really wasn't in a position to argue. But spank my little doll?

Jamie whimpered. Then she spoke to Rita. "Oh, yes, Mama. I'm so sorry. I've been terrible. Daddy should spank me."

Whoa. Spanking that luscious ass? That was punishment for me?

I sat on a hard chair. Jamie laid her tummy over my knees and her high-heeled feet on the floor. Her pretty bottom, meant for my kisses and hard cock, parted for me and I saw the hole that was the center of my universe. I couldn't do it. But then Jamie said, "Spank me, Daddy. I deserve it."

My cock could split bricks. I looked at Rita, then at Jamie's rosy bottom. I took a deep breath and swatted. Jamie cried out and I wanted to stop, grab Jamie and take her away. But she said again, "I've been bad, Daddy. Spank me."

I swatted her again. And again. She cried out in pain, but something else was there. On the 15^th swat, when she grunted and sprayed cum all over my thighs, I knew what it was. Lust. She loved being dominated by a man. So few men, including me, dominated her. I smacked her ass enthusiastically after that. She came again at stroke 36 and I blew a big load at stroke 48. Rita stopped us at 50.

Jamie's bottom was very red and sore. All I could think of was rubbing cream on it, then fucking it until it was all better. Didn't learn much from all that did I?

Jamie whimpered a little. Rita had her stand in the corner and said, "no rubbing."

Then Rita turned to me and said, "You're next, Lover Boy."

Huh?

Rita sat in a chair and beckoned me to get over her knees. I mentally refused. Then I thought of the things that a lot of large gentlemen with shaved heads would do to me behind bars. I got over her knees.

I hadn't been spanked since I was ten and was caught playing doctor with Mary Weller.

It appeared that streak was at an end.

My ass was exposed to my very angry wife. My Jamie would hear how I reacted. Must be a man, I said to myself.

Of course, that's easier to do when an angry woman isn't bringing a large hairbrush down on your ass fifty times. I didn't cry. But I moaned. Didn't shame myself. But I'm not getting the lead in the next Matrix movie either.

It hurt like fire. But the whole scene was very sexually arousing too.

I think Rita was fired up when I got off her lap and she saw my big stiffie. She said, "Come here, Jamie."

Jamie and I stood in front of Rita like two bad schoolboys.

Rita noted that Jamie had a stiffie too.

She sighed and said, "I know what males are capable of and what they simply can't do. Here's what I want from you two. When I'm in the house, no looks, no touches, no notes, no sneaked kisses. Nothing!!! Understand?"

Jamie and I eagerly agreed. I was afraid to ask, but Jamie wasn't. "What about when you're not home, Mama?"

Oh, no. My ass couldn't take 50 more.

But Rita treated it like a fair question. "I never want to catch you two again. And I promise I will never come home unexpectedly. Understand?"

We both eagerly agreed. So it would be "don't ask, don't tell?" Was I OK with that? Did I really have a choice?

I'll admit – all that stuff about all the men and boys who had enjoyed Jamie and were still enjoying her was disturbing to me. It certainly didn't make me feel special.

Maybe I would just focus on Rita, if she would have me, and ignore that little sissy prickteaser.

Maybe Newt Gingrich and Bill Clinton will go bowling together every Wednesday night.

I was a little concerned about the future.

Rita kept to herself the rest of that day and I discovered that the yard needed a lot of work. Jamie stayed in her room. Rita cooked dinner and was civil if not pleasant. She didn't blink when Jamie went off to the gym with Charlie Ogilvy. Jamie had some balls, I'll give her that, to keep her gym date that night.

After dinner, Rita asked if I wanted to make love to her – just her. I guess she needed "it" as much as I did. Or maybe she was just being pragmatic. She knew I loved her. She loved me and liked me too. And she knew that no sane, hetero man would say no to an offer of sex from Jamie.

From that moment on, I devoted myself to Rita's happiness. Except when I was fucking her beautiful, sissy son.

When Jamie and I were "bad," which, <sigh>, was often, Rita never saw the tiniest evidence.

It's an odd arrangement, but it works for us.

WARNING – Do not try this at home.

 

THE END

 

Comments? Story ideas? Let me know at gingerfred99@yahoo.com.

  

  

  

*********************************************
© 2003 by Gingerfred Man. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, and compilation design) may be printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without the express written consent of StorySite and the copyright holder.