A Wife's Indulgence

by WannabeGinger

 

…… from the home of WannabeGinger

 

Ginger's wife wants to put their relationship into context, and show how a marriage can grow if both parties develop eachothers' interests and pleasures.

How did it all begin? The steps towards a marriage where we are a man and a woman, most of the time, and two women when the fancy takes either of us? Perhaps it was at my instigation – and perhaps it wasn't. Perhaps he wanted it all along…. indeed, I know he did. But then, I must have done too. "They", whoever they are, say that marriages become set in their ways, sexually and in general. They say that some people never get to add spice to their lives. Did we know, when it began, that this was what was going on? Not at all. We had spiced up our lives in many ways. He had become much more adept in oral love-making than I could have wished; he learned from his ability to "put himself in the other person's place" in business. He was successful. He could easily imagine what a woman like me would wish to have "done" to her. I returned the compliment, though hardly as skilfully. We relish the soixante neuf we indulged so often, and we still do. That would be enough for many couples.

 

How did what begin, then? My husband's crossdressing. It wasn't started from his teenage years when he did experiment, with girly clothes and hair styles. He had long since locked those away as secrets before we married. No, his crossdressing was latent, maybe, but it was no feature of our early married life.

 

I can remember when the seeds were sewn for the first time. We were talking together in the wonderful warm time after a good long fuck. We had been at it for hours, it seemed. We had made foreplay an art form by this time, coaxing and playing with eachother but stopping short of a climax time and again. Sometimes we ache for release but go on to further, and higher heights of real pleasure. We were talking about what we had both enjoyed so much during the time just ended. I purred at the thought of his tongue parting the lips between my thighs; softly and sensually, slowly at times and faster as a rhythm developed…. until I had cum for the fourth, maybe the fifth time. He, by comparison, was still waiting for the first release. I enjoyed it most when, having saved himself for this, and brought me to a time when I couldn't cum again, he pulled himself up and entered my wet and wanting pussy. He came inside me – which I do always appreciate! - and stayed inside for a while resting upon me as he subsided. He slowly slid down, his face licking the soft spot between my tits, and on and on, his tongue rounding my tummy button……. on his way "south". Soon, he was back in the depths of my Bermuda triangle, as we called it……. (things go in there and may never be seen again!) He licked and licked as the cum he'd given me slowly slipped away. He brought a face up to meet my own, cum lubricating every inch of his face.. and then my own as we kissed deeply. We laid back together.

 

How were the seeds of his crossdressing sewn in this moment? Simply, and I don't know what made me suggest it…….. We were quiet, neither speaking for minutes on end. Luxuriating.

 

"You would taste extra special if you had some lipstick on", I said. He blushed.

He was silent. His eyes told me that he understood and that it would be true. But his eyes also showed, for an instant, a trace of his past obsession. He had worn make-up as a teenager.

We were lying in the bed, swathed in a light duvet. The smell of sex was strong in the air.

"There's one on the vanity unit. Go, please, and fetch it."

He didn't move, for a moment or two. He breathed deeply.

"What made you say that?", he whispered. His voice was light, almost joking. He had bought-in to the idea but maybe didn't want to admit it.

"I thought it, so I said it. You smell and taste very sexy………", I said, with equal lightness in my voice, hoping to encourage him. Crossdressing was never further from my mind. I just knew that it would be incredibly sexy if we both shared a lipstick-laden kiss and, maybe, he would go down on me again wearing that creamy concoction.

He said nothing more, lying still in the bed for another minute or two, breathing more shallowly now. Then he reached over to the vanity unit where all my cosmetics were laid out. I had always worn a lot of make-up having had skin problems myself as a teenager. The lipstick was an expensive one; a Dior Addiction, long-lasting one. Its case was beautifully sexy too. Our eyes met and stayed fixed upon eachother. He stroked the lipstick gently as he leaned back into the bed. He kissed the case with his lips slightly apart, making a gesture with his eyes that was totally unmistakable. My suggestion had been taken up.

 

"You first", he said.

 

Should I do so?, a thought flashed through my mind. What if I did….?

 

"Oh, no….. my treat is to have you kiss me", I replied.

 

If his teen years had involved experimenting with clothes and cosmetics, mine were taken up with exploring girl-on-girl experiences. I had been quite a "lipstick lesbian" for a year or two, before we met. So it was right for me if he wore the lipstick.

 

"Promise you'll kiss me again", he smiled.

"Only if you show me you enjoy it", I teased.

This was the turning point. Indeed, he did show he enjoyed it. He took off the cover of the lipstick slowly, holding the top between finger and thumb. He smelled the stick before slowly twisting the case to have it emerge, a deep burgundy colour with a shaped top. Unused until now. He smelled the stick again and opened his mouth, lightly touching the top of the colour with his tongue. He was clearly enjoying himself.

 

He showed me the tip before moving it towards his lips. He had to steady his arms, resting on the bed, in order to get close enough to begin applying the colour to his still cum-laden lips. He licked his lips to remove what had been left behind, making his lips wet again.

 

"Difficult to apply lipstick to wet lips", I said. "Kiss me first."

 

He did so, beautifully, lingeringly, and seductively. Making me want more. But then he broke away and the lipstick was at his lips immediately. He made an arching sweep from the centre of his upper lip, first to the left and then to the right. He had obviously watched me do this and, for a man, he did a good job. The outline of his lips was near perfect but there wasn't enough colour.

 

"More." I whispered.

More indeed, from this moment, he took time to cover his upper lips again and again, leaving the vestiges of a cupid's bow in the centre, before sweeping across his lower lip several times. Each sweep was accompanied by a breathless "mmmmmmm". He was making sure I knew he was enjoying this.

Finally, he licked his lips to let them shine….. No need to apply lipgloss, well, not this time.

He held the lipstick up to me. Gesturing, but saying nothing. Meaning it was my turn. But, no, I wasn't having any of that… not yet. There would be ample time. I just smiled.

"Kiss me, lover." I whispered. "That's what you've earned. You proved you enjoyed that."

We locked together, the taste of his lipstick and the cum blending into a dreamy mist in my head. I had kissed girls before that had done as much for me, but never had the sensation with a man. He was different. Very different. I was lying in his arms, savouring his kiss and sensing an orgasm rising, even though I hadn't been touched intimately for maybe half an hour. My hand reached down to just help me along that pathway. He continued to kiss me fully on the lips and lipstick smeared across both our faces. I flew into a frenzy for what seemed hours and eventually broke from his embrace. Our lips parted.

 

He started to move south again but I couldn't bear the thought of cumming again so soon….. "No! No!" I shouted…… "Not because I don't want you to, but please just take me slowly…." My breathing took time to slow. He rested his head on my tits. We laid quietly. Then a lipsticked lip surrounded one of my nipples which remained hard and aroused. Though I couldn't see, I felt a light touch on the other nipple. He was putting lipstick on that one too. The lipstick then was applied to his own lips and he laid back in my arms.

 

Near exhaustion, I raised my hand and touched his hair, tracing a line down across his forehead and down his nose, reaching his lips. He kissed my finger and then took it into his mouth. Lipstick around the finger would find its way elsewhere soon. My hand went back to his hair, as I softly stroked his fringe. If he was a girl, he'd have bangs. The rest was, and remains, longer than most guys' hair. I stroked it gently, putting fingers into the top and the sides, stroking this way and that. I raised one thick strand from the crown of his head. I stretched it to its fullest length. It was as long as my own. I smoothed it down again. Something inside me suggested not stopping here. He was in my hands. He had done as I suggested with the lipstick. We would use that again in our love-making.

 

His hands moved across my body, wrapped is it was in my favourite peach satin nightie. He traced the lace along the tops above my tits and reached up as the straps rose to my shoulders. His hand slid under the straps and stayed there.

The seeds of our enjoyment of his crossdressing had been planted. Here I was with a man wearing lipstick, caressing his hair as he fondled the satin of my nightie. Knowing of his past enjoyment of crossing, and feeling equally attracted to a girl as a boy myself, I reached an unconscious decision. This was here to stay as a part of our loving. Almost whatever he felt.

I touched his hair again and took a strand more tightly, rolling it round my finger. I held it. He twisted a strap from my nightie and tugged it. I pulled his hair again. He almost purred in pleasure.

"Let me brush your hair." I said, not asking for agreement. "Then you can do mine." I reached for the hairbrush beside the bed.

"Not unless you have some lipstick too." was his reply, offering the open lipstick to me..

Slowly, he sat up in the bed and turned his back towards me. He smiled. His lipstick was still smeared but the second application was bold enough. I put colour on my own lips for the first time today. The smell was, again, captivating. The taste, likewise. The feel of the creaminess on my lips was sensual in the extreme.

 

I took the hairbrush and drew the hair from the back of his head to the side and back towards the other side. I reached over his head and brushed the hair away from his face. It reached over his crown. I repeated the strokes several times, increasingly strongly to remove slight tangles and make it sleeker. I picked up the hair from his crown and, who knows why, I began to back-comb or tease it, perhaps to add volume. Now I know, it was to make the style more feminine. I parted the hair down his head from crown to the front and smoothed the sides. His hair cried out for bangs at the front but the cut wouldn't allow this. I back-combed the crown some more. Oh, if only I could work on the colour, I thought……..

 

He hadn't moved through all of this. Where was it taking us? We had passed a turning point. The look was very much different to that we had started with on him. Writing this, I know it was my choice rather than his – but he was happily compliant with my suggestions, wasn't he?

 

He shivered quite suddenly. "I'm cold", he said

 

It was then I asked if he would be comfortable wearing something slinky……

(Shall I continue??)

  

  

  

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