Turnabout Pt. 07
Şub 13, 2022 // By:analsex // No Comment
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When backing her car down the driveway and turning onto the darkened street, as a wave goodbye, Marie flashed her high-beams.
Momentarily blinded and through tear-filled eyes. I stood frozen in the full-length bay window as my wife turned onto the street for a night of infidelity.
Talk about an emotional roller-coaster. For years, I had thought about my wife having a fling with a guy better equipped than me. Convinced that it was something she was owed. But now that it was happening, fears that I could lose her to another man were horrifying. And if I were to believe my wife’s own words, she planned on this being but the first of many nights getting fucked by someone other than me. Marie had made it clear that she intended on getting laid by a variety of men and having the kind of sex I couldn’t provide.
If all went according to her plan, as of tonight, I would officially become her cuckold.
Assuming the title of Marie’s cuckold was a scary proposition. But it thrilled me even more. My devotion to this woman was such that I knew it was a title I could embrace and carry proudly.
My night-sight slowly returned in time to watch Marie’s tail lights drive away. At the same time, I thought I detected movement out on the front walk. Wiping my eyes of excess tears, I was able to make out what I’d seen. One of our neighbors, Mrs. Bates, was out walking her dog. I did what any good neighbor does; I put on a friendly smile and gave a little wave.
There was a momentary pause before she returned an unsure wave.
Only after turning away from the window was I reminded of my nakedness. Naked except for the barely-there panties I still wore. Making things worse, the flash of Marie’s high-beams through the large bay window had no doubt truly spotlighted my state of undress.
My entire body quaked with embarrassment, causing a trickle of pee to be released. Before losing all control of my bladder, I headed into our bedroom and the master bath. Passing the vanity mirror told me that my boner had not diminished in the least. This sent another mixed bag of messages to my brain. My little man was more excited about what my wife was up to than worried about any negative ramifications. And being seen by our neighbor while almost entirely naked was a little extra treat for the exhibitionist in me.
That feeling of leaking piss had actually been a burst of pre-cum. The super-sheer panties readily showed that an ongoing river pre-cum had been trickling along the outer surface. Shiny and slippery fluids had left a trail down the length of my boner to where my balls would normally have been
But since I had tucked my gonads into my abdominal cavity, they weren’t there to bathe in the puddle forming in the crotch of the panties. [I wonder if Mrs. Bates enjoyed seeing me like this.] This produced the spitting out of even more pre-cum.
Pulling down the panties to answer nature’s call freed my balls to hang loose once again. Still, my boner wouldn’t relax, making it impossible to pee without spraying all over the wall above the toilet. So, I did something I hadn’t done since I was a teen. I stepped into the bathtub and just let the stream go where it wanted.
By the time I had emptied my bladder, my hard-on had also begun to subside. Still, the far wall of the tub enclosure had been thoroughly hosed down with piss. (Don’t worry, before stepping out, I did rinse off the wall.) Next, I rinsed out the panties. This made me think, [I might as well rinse out the pair that Kathy had gotten me to cum in.] I retrieved them, and after an initial rinse, I filled the basin with warm water and some mild soap to wash out both pairs.
After a thorough rinse and carefully wringing out excess water, I draped them over that shower curtain rod. Looking at my handy work, I was forced to realize that the only reason these two ultra-feminine panties hung there was because they had been worn by me. And it was me who had soiled them. This produced another little shiver. I found it odd, but this was a shiver of delight.
Glancing back at the mirror, I caught that there was a smile on my lips.
Just then, the smile disappeared. Out of left field, a terrifying thought coursed through me, piercing my heart. [Marie has gone off to have sex with another man … and I never asked her about birth control!!!]
Both anxiety and anger shook me to my core. I stood there shouting, “Shit. Shit! SHIT!!! How could I have let her go without finding out what and how she planned to deal with … things?!” My erection withered as I frantically tried to remember when she had her last period. Was she in her prime days to be ovulating? Was my wife in heat??? Could that be why she was so keen on getting laid tonight?
My heart raced, and my pulse pounded in my ears as all sorts of thoughts bounced around my brain. [What if she IS ovulating? Is she even aware of that? If she is, will she still let him ejaculate inside her? Or, will she insist that he wear a condom?]
That bursa escort single though caused me to speak out loud. “Hold on! NO! Not that.” Condoms had never been a part of my dreams. The only way I ever envisioned things was for her cunt to feel every inch of his naked cock. My inner voice said, [I suppose she could let him fuck her without one. As long as he promised to pull out.] That would work, I reasoned. [But what if he promises that he will only for one or both of them to get so caught up in the moment. Marie could have her legs wrapped around him, preventing him from pulling out. That would ensure wads of thick baby batter being shot into her fertile baby bakeshop?]
Inexplicably, my mind shifted gears. A totally random thought occurred to me. One that was so comical, it almost made me laugh out loud. [Jeez! It’s only Marie’s first night to check out her husband’s competition, and before even getting to size up a second guy, she could actually end up being impregnated by the very first guy she fucked!]
The ironic humor of such a thing occurring lifted my spirits.
Accepting there was nothing I could do to change any of it, I shrugged my shoulders, telling myself, [No sense worrying about what MIGHT happen. It’s out of my hands. Whatever will be, will be.] Just as I told myself that, another thought made me shiver and smile. [Daddy Roulette. My wife could be playing Daddy Roulette. Maybe birth control is being intentionally ignored as a kinky sort of game. Night after night, one guy after another gets to fill her snatch with his cum, and sooner or later, bingo! We’d never know for sure who the father was.]
I don’t know why, but looking at it as perverse kind of game was both intriguing and exciting. This brought my boner back to full force and oozing more pre-cum.
Returning to our bedroom to get dressed, I was reminded of how Marie smiled when she had seen me wearing ladies’ panties. That gave me pause. Being seen wearing panties had caused special, unexpected feelings. Kind of like being caught doing something I knew better than to do. Add in the kinkiness factor; I had to admit that I kind of enjoyed the experience.
Wearing ladies’ panties had been like being on an erotic adventure. Doing the unexpected, something so opposite of what had always been, was stimulating. But now, three times, people had witnessed me wearing panties, either due to voluntary showings or, better still, when I was caught. Each time someone saw me in women’s panties, it electrified that part on me I could usually keep hidden away: The exhibitionist. Just thinking about these women seeing me in panties made my hard-on twitch.
But there had to be more to it than just wearing something out of the ordinary. So what was it that made it so stimulating? [Marie sure made it obvious that she liked the way I looked in them. Was that because they were so transparent? I bet anybody would look sexy wearing those panties. So, was it just because Marie kinda ordered me to put them on that made it exciting? Well, seeing that I had done what I’d been told did put a big smile on her face.] Thinking of Marie’s reaction made me smile as well.
[Come to think of it, the way she looked at me when she came into the room, it was like she was totally elated that I was wearing panties. Period! Like it wouldn’t have mattered what panties I had put on. Having her husband wear ladies’ panties really seemed to make her day.]
Shrugging my shoulders, [That’s all well and good. But, it’s not like I had any intentions of trading in my men’s underwear for ladies’ panties. I mean, let’s face it. As a guy, wearing panties couldn’t possibly be more comfortable than underwear made to be worn by guys.]
After some additional consideration, I decided, [Nah! No guy could possibly be comfortable wearing panties,] I told myself. [Panties don’t have the pouch that men’s briefs do. They aren’t cut full enough where it counts, except…] Standing in front of our dresser mirror, looking at my naked body, I felt somehow torn. [But, what if they were???]
My boner bounced, and that’s when the mirror seemed to tell me, ‘Just how much of a pouch do you need? You haven’t got so much down there to need THAT full of a cut.’
This prompted a brilliant idea. And now that I was all alone, it seemed like the perfect time to act on it. Opening my wife’s underwear drawer, I was greeted by a rainbow of colors — from bold and bright to soft pastels. Solids and patterned — and in just about any conceivable style. Each style — from teenie G-Strings and thongs; on up to bikini; french cut; low-cut waist; boy shorts; regular briefs; all the way to full-sized “granny panties” — were assembled in their own separate piles.
Well, obviously, her G-Strings were out. And I already knew from my fittings at Karen’s boutique that thongs and low-cuts also were a no-go.
The extended leg openings of boy shorts were too much like men’s boxer briefs. So I çanakkale escort passed on them as well. I also didn’t choose to experiment with her regular briefs. Aside from all the colors and lacking a fly, they didn’t look much different from men’s briefs.
Instead, for this challenge, I decided to go with something that would be more like I imagined Marie would want to see me in. Without further examination, I plucked a pair from the french cut collection. Holding up what I had grabbed caused a tingle to course through me. They just happened to be a satiny pair of deep burgundy. Pulling them on brought about more tingling. At the same time, I was telling myself, [This should prove that even I couldn’t possibly make wearing panties a daily driver.]
Once they were up securely around my waist, two things became evident. First, unlike what she said, Marie does not wear the same size as me. The panties I tried on and bought this evening from the boutique were all size 8. These size sevens made my boy-parts press more snugly into my groin. That tightness, along with the richness of the color, almost obscured the fact that I was a guy. Even so, damned if the crotch wasn’t just broad enough to accommodate every bit of my goods. [Huh! That means if these were ‘my size,’ size eight would be even more generous in the crotch.] This was a bit disconcerting.
Needless to say, this is not what I had expected. [Then again,] I told myself, [Just because they fit while I’m standing still, it doesn’t mean that moving around wouldn’t cause ‘things’ to begin leaking out.] So I started walking around the house. [Huh. No problems so far. What if I do some exercises?] Bending, twisting, even jumping jacks and still, everything stayed put. Nice and snug. Comfortably snug!
Physical exertion brought with it thirst. I went into the kitchen to get a glass of something cold to drink. As I reached for a glass, I heard a car pull into the driveway. Forgetting about what I was wearing, my mind immediately thought of my wife. [Uh oh! Things didn’t go as she planned.] Just as I was about to open the front door to greet her, I heard a familiar voice. Only it wasn’t Marie I heard. It was our daughter returning home.
A chill of fright ran down my spine. Megan was back from the movies! AND her daddy was wearing nothing but her mommy’s very feminine panties!!!
I backed away from the door as quickly as I could. No sooner had I turned the corner when I heard the front door open. Worse still, there was another voice accompanying my daughter. I barely got my bedroom door closed when Megan called out, “Daddy! I’m home.”
Doing the best I could to not sound panicked, I responded. “Hi there, baby girl. I’ll be right out.”
“Okay! Tammy and I will be in my room.” [Oh great! Company.] “Tammy’s mom is waiting out front to talk to you.” [Shit! Now what?] Not wanting to keep her waiting, I quickly threw on a pair of sweats and went out to see what Peggy wanted.
“Did we catch you at a bad time, Jeff?” Peggy asked.
[Oh god. Please tell me they hadn’t seen me when they drove up.] “No. Why? Did something seem wrong?”
Peggy chuckled then said, “Well, you bounded out here like the house was on fire or something. You don’t even have any shoes on.” [Crap!] I was so full of adrenaline that I was almost vibrating. And it had nothing to do with the evening chill.
“No,” I said, forcing a relaxed smile. “I just wasn’t expecting… I didn’t want to keep you waiting.”
“Oh. Okay. Well, after the movie, Megan invited Tammy to sleepover. You don’t mind, do you? I know it’s last minute and all.”
“No. That’s fine. Really. It will be great. Tammy is never a problem. The two of them get along so well.”
That’s when I was hit with a question I had no planned answer for. “Where’s Marie? Will she be home soon?”
GULP. “Oh, uhh, No. I mean, I’m not sure when she’ll be back. She’s out with… ah… a friend.”
After giving me a curious look, Peggy smiled, rolled up her window, and drove off. Back in the house, I told the girls to get ready for bed. Megan opened her bedroom door to show me they were both already in pajamas. “Can we have a snack before going to bed?” I told them that would be fine and asked what they’d like. Megan looked back at Tammy and said, “Daddy makes a wicked nacho-supreme. How’s that sound?” Tammy smiled brightly and agreed that would be good.
As I was getting everything together, Megan came out to the kitchen and asked, “Where’s mommy?” [Oh crap! Here we go again.] As calmly as I could, I told her that her mother was out with friends. “When will she be home?” [Oh boy. That’s a tough one.]
“I really don’t know, pumpkin. Probably not till late.” Megan seemed satisfied though a little mystified and returned to her room and her guest.
For the next twenty minutes, I put it all together then baked it in the oven until the cheese turned golden and gooey. Taking that and some drinks into the girls, çankırı escort they asked me to read them a story while they ate.
Since going way back, each night at bedtime, I read to my daughter. We were currently in the middle of one of Megan’s favorites, “Treasure Island.” So, as the little ones munched and sipped, I read the next chapter.
As I went along with the story, both girls, especially Tammy, enjoyed the various voices I used for different characters. Tammy always giggled when I spoke the parrot’s lines. When I finished the chapter, they were begging me to continue. As it was now after eleven o’clock, I reminded them that it was well past their bedtime.
While they went off to brush their teeth, I collected the empty glasses and left-over nachos. After tucking the girls in, I went back out to the kitchen, reheated the nachos, and along with a glass of wine, finished them off.
Getting myself ready for bed, I got out my ‘we have company sleepwear,’ an old t-shirt, and pair of soft cotton shorts. (Any other time I’d just sleep in the buff.) Removing the sweats I’d been wearing revealed that I had been wearing the same pair of my wife’s panties the entire time. The ones I had been put on to prove that I’d never be comfortable wearing ladies’ panties full-time. Yet, here I had totally forgotten I was wearing a pair.
Had it been just by chance? Or was there something deep in my subconscious that made me choose this particular pair? Out of everything I could have picked from, I had selected possibly the brightest, most feminine pair she owned.
I was further dismayed to discover that everything was where it was supposed to be, even after all of this time. Nothing had leaked out of either leg opening. And wearing these panties had been comfortable enough to cause me to forget I was even wearing them. [Dammit! I bet a fully equipped man, like whoever Marie is with right now, couldn’t get far wearing these panties. No wonder there was such a turnabout in my wife’s attitude regarding my small package versus that of an adequately equipped man. No doubt, seeing me in panties only reinforced that opinion.]
Slipping them off, I washed them and placed them on the shower curtain rod alongside the others. Now that I was dressed for bed, I quietly checked on the girls [Good. Sound asleep.] and returned to my room, turned off the light, and tried to get some sleep.
Sleeping was the last thing my over-active mind would let me do. Imaginary images of my wife in bed with another man wouldn’t leave me alone. One thing my mind didn’t conjure was that they were making soft and tender love together. No! They were having wild sex together. Hot and heavy. Of course, all I had to go by were the sex scenes I’d seen on the Internet and old porno tapes. Only, unlike those old triple-X tapes, Marie’s sex partner was not depositing his cum all over her body. Nope. He was dumping a bucket load of cum deep inside my wife’s belly.
Once again, thoughts that she might become pregnant came to the surface. My semi-consciousness did a deep dive into the notion of my wife playing this risky game, making it all that much more thrilling.
Suddenly, I was but a microscopic speck deep within my wife’s vagina while still able to see in the darkness. I imagined seeing his long thick cock repeatedly pistoning in and out. Sometimes coming directly towards me. Other times I had a side-view, watching and feeling as the crown, rim, and every vein slid past.
With ever-increasing speed, he was pounding her pussy. In and out. In and out. Exploring the depths of Marie’s birth canal. Touching and stretching membranes I could never come close to reaching with my 4 incher.
Just then, with one final lunge, there was a volcanic eruption. Thick white lava jettisons from his cock head. I am surrounded by and bathed by its intense heat and stickiness. The lava continues to spew from the volcano dome, filling every nook and cranny of the chamber. Suddenly, I see a small round opening. Her cervix. The pressure is intense now. With nowhere else to go, the lava is forced through the expanding opening, taking me along with it.
The next thing I know, I am floating in a massive lake of cum inside her womb. I become aware that I am surrounded by billions of squirmy little tadpoles. Instead of being grossed out by my surroundings, I am calmed, bathing in the churning warm goo. Like being in a vat of baby tadpoles, the sperm tickle as they twist a turn around me. Wave after wave of more eager sperm and white cream continues to be pumped in.
Then I see it. The left Fallopian tube contracts, ejecting an egg just waiting to be fertilized. I swoon with delight and desire. I want it for my very own.
But I am too late. The egg has already been swarmed by a few dozen sperm. I watch helplessly as they beat their little tadpole heads against the outer shell of the egg. Then, finally, one lucky guy breaks through and embeds itself.
I have just witnessed the miracle of fertilization and the beginning of a new life. My wife is now with child. This time the child will not be the by-product of her husband. But the result of a lust-fueled, one-time affair. And only my wife and I will ever know that it wasn’t me who brought this about.
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