TG New Hairdo 2/3 F/m M/m F/f femdom "Is he married?" I asked. For some reason I wanted to remind her of our solemn estate, not to be entered or left lightly. She looked pensive. "He had been. His wife died shortly after giving birth, if you can imagine such a thing in this day and age. A combination of things, including AIDS. Their baby was stillborn and she died two days later. He was devastated." "I can imagine," I said, to break into her silence. "No you can't. He'd cared for her devotedly. No man more attentive or tender. He'd known that her pregnancy could be dangerous, so he'd tried to deny himself the "consolations of her body" he called it, except for a very few times when she'd begged him for it, seduced him shamelessly, really. Then those times he took every conceivable precaution. It was just as well, since she was HIV positive and she hadn't told him." "Well, she got pregnant anyhow, and refused to abort. 'This is a love child,' she told him. 'And you're its legal father, so I want to bear it and to see you raise it.'" "So?" I asked. I'd heard of worse marriages, if more fortunate ones. "You don't understand, sweetie, any more than he did then. A 'love child' is a child out of wedlock. Someone else was the father. After her death he found out there was no knowing who. It'd hard to believe it, in fact the whole story sounds incredible, but it seems that his wife had been unfaithful for years, sexually insatiable. And he was so trusting, he hadn't a clue. All day long while he was at work there had been a parade of lovers passing through their apartment and into her bed. Gobs of their semen overflowed her snatch, and she never bothered even to blot, their maid said afterward. She took no precautions at all. Then when the afternoon household help came on duty, her first task was to run a bath so Scott's wife could soak off the sweat and cum and saliva, and douche herself while the maid mopped up the mess and changed the soaked bed and got the sticky linens out of the apartment so Scott would never know. Scott's wife could take on a half dozen men daily, he found out. And did. Long before her pregnancy, and all through it." "Anyhow, between the mother's marginal physical condition and all those dickheads knocking on her door that baby never stood a chance! When his wife found out the baby was dead she told Scott it was no big deal, it wasn't his anyhow. That she'd never loved him. That she'd married him only because she'd tried everything else, and he was as boring as everything else. Then she died. That's why he felt so devastated. His whole life had been a lie. He left town and moved to this city to get away from everything that reminded him of her." I looked sympathetic, but said nothing. Then, "You said you never touched each other. How long before you did?" April grinned at me. "You want me to cut to the hot part, don't you, sweetie. Well, all right! It was incredible, how it came about! Unbelieveable! Let me tell you! About a month after he'd settled in, when we were seeing each other daily, he told me about his wife -- 'if she ever was one,' he said. And he asked me to perform a vasectomy on him. If anyone he cared about ever got pregnant again, he wanted to know for certain that the child couldn't be his. He didn't want children. His patients would be his children. He'd be a better pediatrician for it." I'd heard enough about this Scott's nobility. "So?" I said. "The touching?" "It's a simple procedure, I arranged to do it in my office. I put him in a gown, and set him up on a gynecological examining table I keep there, and I fastened his wrists so he couldn't interfere or thrash about, and I strapped his legs into the stirrups and spread them wide apart. That gave me plenty of access. He looked so cute, spread out like that! So helpless! Just like a woman!" She smiled at me, and then looked away. "But down there he didn't look at all like a woman. Not with that equipment! Leslie, honey, you've never seen anything like it! I'll bet not even when you were dating all kinds of boys back in college!" She was so entranced she'd forgotten who I really was! As her best girlfriend, I nodded, trying not to break the spell. "So I injected him with a local, and cleaned him up, and when I thought he couldn't feel anything, I took up the scalpel and prepared to cut in, to resect his vas deferens. But I teased him first. Tied up the way he was, it seemed like fun. I said, "You know, with a flick of my wrist I could emasculate you right now, the way I did my husband." "His voice came from the other side of the sheet we use to isolate our work area, 'You have a husband? I thought you lived with a woman. A lawyer, good-looking if a little butch is what I've heard.'" "'Yes,'" I told him. I didn't want to keep any secrets from this man. And I wanted him to believe my teasing might not be teasing! "He's a very good-looking woman now," I said, "You could say pretty. But he wasn't when I began with him!" The same feeling came over me I get when I'm playing with you. I felt so powerful! "Would you like to join him? Join my little harem? You might end up as pretty as he is!" I waved my scalpel high up, where he could see it. I imagine no man ever felt more helpless than he did at that moment. His response was unexpected, Leslie. I'd never have imagined it! "'April,'" he said. "'If you must, I want you to. I hope you'll leave everything there. I guess this is as good a time as any to say it. I have very special feelings for you. I want to join myself to you. I want to become part of you. I want to make you happy the way only a man can make a woman happy. I'll need what's down there to do that. I love you. But because I love you, I want your happiness above all! So you do whatever will make you happy!'" "Can you imagine? I couldn't believe my ears! That was so sweet! He was willing to give up everything for me. Even more than you've given up, Leslie. at least so far! I could accept him as a man or unman him, whichever I chose. Greater love hath no man! Right then and there I couldn't help myself. I felt so grateful! A gift like that? I leaned forward and I kissed the very balls he'd offered to me. Softly. I thought that with the anesthetic he'd never know. But his cock swelled up immediately -- he hadn't gone numb yet. So I came around the other side of the barrier and I looked him straight in the eye. That rugged, handsome face. He had a broken nose from his college boxing days, but that only made him more handsome. Tears, I was crying, they flowed down my cheeks and they fell on him as I leaned forward and kissed him on the mouth. He kissed me back. He must have tasted my tears. I opened my mouth, and he thrust in his tongue. It isn't as long as your tongue, Leslie, but it tasted so very sweet!" She'd finished with her main course. I'd finished mine earlier. Now she set her silverware aside and seemed to be day-dreaming, as if seeing it all again. "I told him that no one had ever trusted me so completely before, not even my husband. That I had to love him for that! And that I wanted to kiss him some more, while we waited for the anesthetic to kick in. He interrupted me. 'May I kiss your breasts, April?' What a proposal! My smock and my bra just flew off, and there were my breasts with their nipples protruding, rock hard. I decided not to release his hands, though I desperately wanted to. You know what it's like, Leslie, when you're aroused and want to feel your breasts caressed and cupped and held passionately. I gave him just a few minutes apiece of each breast dangling over his face, my nipples hanging into his mouth. His lips closed on the ends of each breast, and his tongue tickled and caressed the tips, and shocks of pure bliss shot through me deep into my vagina." "I don't remember when I climbed up onto him and inserted him into me. I know we were both soaking wet when I came to myself and found I was astride him and he was inside me and I was banging and riding and writhing and twisting on top of him for all I was worth, and my pussy was squeezing itself into one spasm after another. Glorious! Chain orgasms, I'd heard of them! I've had them so often with him since then! Most often when he's on top of me, that gorgeous thing of his banging into me as ferociously and brutally as he can slam it and pound it at me! God, I do love hard fucking!" Her voice had risen, and I looked around. She noticed, and ducked her head. "Oops!" she said. The waiter came and removed out plates and went away. He then came back with dessert menus. April handed them back to him. "Maybe later," she said. "Maybe not at all. Wait, and we'll let you know. Is that all right?" "The waiter mumbled 'Of course, madam,' or something like that. I don't know why, but at that moment I turned toward him and gave him a great big smile, perhaps of gratitude for his tolerance that we could stay a while longer. Perhaps it was something else. To reassure myself that I still was sexually attractive myself, as a woman if not as a man? To overcome my jealousy of Scott, of that cock hammering my wife's pussy as mine never would again? I touched my hair a few times, fluffed it up a bit in back, and looked the poor man in the eyes just a bit longer than I needed to. He was startled at first, but he returned a grin as he turned away. April noticed, but said nothing. "I never did perform that vasectomy. When we were both fucked out and my thighs were stiff from riding and bouncing on him, I just climbed off the table and picked up the scalpel again, and grinned wickedly, and said to him, 'So you trust me, do you?' 'Yes,' he said, and he closed his eyes. So peacably! 'I do. I love you. What you want is what I want.' Leslie, I had his balls in the palm of my hand, and a knife in the other hand. But what I said to him was, 'Scott, I want your baby! I want lots of them. And lots of doing what we've just done! A lifetime of it!' It surprised me! Amazed me! Him too!" "But from that moment I've known that one day you and I would be sitting here talking like this, Leslie honey. That I'd need to tell you I was divorcing you to marry Scott. Because Scott opened his eyes and he looked at me and he said in the most earnest and intense voice I have ever heard, 'April, that's what I want! All of it!'" "So of course I set down the scalpel. And then with his cock erect but absolutely numb, I gave him the best blow job I have ever given anyone, while he watched. He couldn't feel a thing, but he knew I had to, and he watched me do it with such understanding and gratitude and devotion and fondness. We spent the rest of that afternoon cuddled in each others' arms, kissing, spooning, loving each other. My heart felt so very full. It still does." "When was this?" I asked, a little bitterly. April didn't reply. She just looked at me. I remembered my proper role. "That's so exciting, April!" I said. "I'm so happy for you both! But for how long have you two been ... making each other happy? And is it ... very often? You can tell me!" She resumed chatting with her girlfriend. "That was maybe a year ago. We've gotten together whenever we could since then. Never often enough, never more often than four, maybe six times a week! Our schedules are pretty tight, so it's not easy to free up the time and place. We're quite an item around the hospital. Hardly anyone hasn't opened a door and found us humping each other standing, sitting, lying down, crouching, you name it. Or me blowing him. We do little things for each other. We love it. We love each other. There's no getting around it, Leslie. That's why we want to get married." "But you've loved me this past year too," I reminded her. "For our kind of sex. You've come home eager, and crooked your finger at me and said 'Come upstairs to bed with me quick, honey, I need you badly.' And when I'd get upstairs you were already lying on our bed with your skirt and panties off and your slip pulled up and your legs spread wide, and you'd say, 'For God's sake, Leslie, please! Your tongue! I need your tongue!' And you were already dripping wet, really soaked down there sometimes, by the time I could get my lips rounded and clamped over your slit to begin to suck you and spoon those sweet juices out with my tongue. Some days you were really filled to the brim, secretions pooled in every crevice. I loved it, that you'd get so aroused just from anticipating me!" April was silent. Daydreaming again? She looked at my face. "Yes, sweetheart. Sometimes Scott and I didn't have time for more than one fuck before we'd be interrupted. Phone calls, patients, something. And then I'd feel so frustrated, unfinished! Now and then we'd both fly out of town for professional meetings, and then we could spend three or four days plastered together. That was always nice, my body always as full of him as my heart! But at the hospital he'd get called away sometimes before we could satisfy each other several times. I'm really grateful to you that then you helped him out. I do hope you enjoyed his flavor. I think he's delicious!" She paused, and glanced again at my face, and saw the expression there. "Oh, good heavens, honey! Did you think all that pearly stuff in me was me? Good heavens, no! Some of it. Your tongue still excites me! But not all of it! Not even most of it! You've sucked and swallowed more of Scott's cum than I have during the past year, Leslie. Much more!" She suddenly stopped. She'd said too much? "That's what girls do, honey," she said a little defensively. "And I do want you to experience everything girls do!" She sat a moment, then sat back. Then looked at me. The spell had worn off. I was again her husband, not her girlfriend, now that she'd told me as much as she meant to tell me. Maybe I was Scott's jealous rival? "We have to talk more, Les," she said. "Yes, I suppose so," I replied. "Separation agreements, property settlements, and so forth. But not now, April, please." I was near tears. That bleak feeling was descending on me again. Outside it was pitch black. Soon she'd leave me and I'd have to walk out into it alone. "Yes, now," April replied. "We need to talk. But not about those things. Not exactly." I just sat there. What else was there to say? I felt helpless. I'd done everything she wanted. Sacrificed everything, nearly. And now I was losing her! Could I begin my own life again? As what? To cover my misery I took out my compact and lipstick and began touching up my mouth yet again. I'm sure I was starting to cry. I could barely see myself in the mirror. A teeny, forlorn sound came out of me despite myself. "Leslie," April said suddenly in the sprightliest possible voice. I looked up. Her head was cocked vivaciously, and she seemed buoyant, grinning. She wanted to cheer me up. "Let me ask you the same question you asked me. How do you know you wouldn't rather make it with a man than a woman? Have you ever tried?" I appreciated her effort to jest. "Of course not. You know that." I couldn't look at her. "No, you've never even had a dildo inside you, have you. Even though that's what women often use with other women. You never knew that? It never occurred to you? " "No." "Nor to me. I must be pretty straight, I suppose. I never did feel like penetrating you, it was so nice just doing what we did. And because I've been getting fucked so frequently by Scott, and he stays hard so long and recovers so quickly, I've never needed for you to use a dildo on me. But recently I've been wondering how you'll get by, when I've gone off to live with Scott." "I'll get by," was all I said. "I'll survive. Don't let me slow you down!" I tried to be sardonic, but she wasn't buying it. "I'm sure you'll survive," she said. Then, "You know, there's this woman at work, Fran, she's another surgeon, abdominal mostly, she said that she's cleared all kind of things out of men's bowels that women have pushed into them and then couldn't get out. Or other men have pushed in. Golf balls, soda bottles, light bulbs even, you name it. Lots of wives have done it to their husbands. So one day Fran decided to try something like that on her own husband. But safely, with a dildo." "Well, she said it was overwhelming! Really empowering! She loved being the dominant partner! She loved violating his ass with her own thrusting torpedo, at will or whim, whatever her pelvis felt like doing, all the while he lay there helplessly and grunted and just took it. She liked being the man. Being in charge. He hated it at first, she said. But in a way he must have loved it too, because his cock was a wooden pole the whole time. And when she orgasmed just from the raw animality of pounding into him, he came too! 'It was different' was what he said when she asked him how it felt. 'I'll bet!' she replied. 'I heard you moaning for more!' She found that when she was wearing the cock and he knew he had to take it into his body, he'd submit to other ...ahh... indignities as well. Even against his will. And be grateful afterward." "Well, I told Scott about Fran and her husband, but that's where it ended. Scott would never let me bugger him, not in a million years. He has the tightest asshole in Christendom. I can't even get a finger in! A real anal compulsive, anal retentive personality. An uptight asshole, you'd probably say, if you were a man. But he does have the tightest buns, too! I love them! Yours got so plump when your hormones rounded them out that they're even a little flabby now. I've been meaning to get you some exercises to help you shape them up a bit more. 'Buns of Steel,' you've seen the videotape." "Anyhow, Fran asked me if I'd ever used a dildo on my girlfriend Leslie. When I told her 'No,' she just looked at me and said, 'What are live-in girlfriends for, April? Good heavens? The woman has a cunt, and you don't fuck her? She must be feeling terribly deprived!'" '"Yes,' I answered her. 'She may well be feeling deprived. I'll have to ask her.' I couldn't very well tell her that my girlfriend doesn't have a cunt, and that may be the reason why she's feeling deprived." "What?" I asked? "What was that, April?" Her last statement hadn't at all gone where I'd expected it to go. I hadn't felt at all deprived, not until tonight! I began to pull out of my depression, to listen more closely. "Leslie, tell me. Wouldn't you like to feel for yourself what it's like, what I've just been describing about my affair with Scott, or what Fran's husband feels these days? How it feels to be on the receiving end. To give while receiving? To be really and truly fucked?" The obvious remark occurred to me, but I said nothing. "I've been selfish, I suppose. All take and no give. But I do want you to experience the ultimate pleasure a woman can have. I owe it to you. You need to know why it is that these parking attendants and waiters dance around you hoping for a glance and a smile. Why those men pick you up at those clubs we go to, and whirl you around the floor. They hope, they dream, vaguely, that somehow you'll let them sink themselves into you, so they can feel the pleasures a pussy provides. Could provide, if you had one. And they hope for an opportunity to give you pleasure too!" "April, cut to the chase! Are you telling me to take up with dildos, or with men, or to let you equip me with a vagina?" "Honey, I really and truly feel guilty about all this. I love you. You know that. I don't want to just walk away and leave you neither here nor there. I want my girlfriend to enjoy being what she is. I certainly don't want you to resent that I turned you into a woman, nearly, and that now I'm divorcing you for a real man, the greatest fuck I've ever had, the love of my life!" She hadn't answered me. She noticed that I'd noticed, and then she went on. "Honey, I guess yes, that's what I'm telling you. I don't want to press you or anything, but give it some thought. You can only go so far with dildos, or with satisfying your men with your anus, if that's what you think I was thinking. The best sex between men and women is what happens when a man's cock is inside a woman's vagina. With no vagina, you can't experience that. Right now all of your erogenous nerve endings are still in that useless penis of yours, most of them down toward the base. I want you to think about turning the whole assembly inside out. About having a sensitive clit and a vagina that throbs with joy when a real prick strokes in and out of it! Feeling heaven between your legs!" "And there's something else. You know that Scott knows about us. He isn't jealous of us, exactly. He isn't jealous of my relations with women. I don't think he understands them. But we've talked about you. He likes the idea of my spending time with someone affectionate who shares my interests. A woman. With an intimate girlfriend. He'd feel reassured to know there's someone I can be with when he's not available." "And I want him to have that reassurance. I'm now married to a man who's nearly disappeared, and I'm divorcing what's left of him, but that doesn't mean I can't still share things with my dearest girlfriend. We won't live together the way we do now, of course. You'll have your own place, the house we're in now, and you'll lead your own life. Have other friends. Get to know the neighborhood wives. See other men maybe. But we can still see each other. There's no reason not to! You can still be my dearest friend. We can still giggle together about everything!" She paused. "Isn't that so?" I nodded. It was so. I almost sobbed at the pity of it. A friendship was all that remained of our marriage! But at least that much! Maybe more! "That's if you're a woman. If you're no way a man. You have to be a woman. Scott has to be satisfied that you're a woman." Understood, I suppose. She'd sort of said that. Then she leaned forward to say more. "Leslie, Scott and I want you to be my Maid of Honor at our wedding." My mouth fell open. "More than that, I want to do this for my Maid of Honor! I want my bridal gift to you to be a pussy. I want to share everything with you, the way girlfriends should. Nearly everything! Please think some more about it." "Think too about how much fun we can have picking out our gowns and everything! I'd be so happy! Arranging different couples at different tables. Maybe mixing up the husbands and wives, to see what happens?" She threw me a wicked glance. "Honey, I don't want you left all alone, after everything we've shared. And think about after the wedding! There'll be lots of Scott's friends there, and some of them are between wives, and some of them are roamers, and I should think looking the way you do you'd have the pick of the lot. I know you would. There are some wonderful experiences out there for you, waiting to happen! If you can accommodate them!" "April, you keep saying it. But I don't want to be intimate with men. I really don't." I was appalled by the way she kept returning to that notion! "Honey," she said. "You think so now. But looking the way you do, feeling the way you feel about yourself, it's only a matter of time. Take it from me. I know that when you first try a dildo you'll love it. It's like Fran's husband said, it's different. He wasn't the least bit feminine when she started with him, but now when she comes toward him he can't open up to her fast enough. Then sooner or later you'll find that men are a lot more satisfying than dildos. You already love the way they fall all over you for a smile. Don't deny it. Well, you don't know it yet, but in bed men can be very warm and loving, and when they're horny they have moves and desires that can take your breath away. You'll see." "Leslie sweetie, you're the woman I've taught you to be. That's the next step! I have no doubt at all that soon your mouth and your anus will be baptized with real sperm, sooner than you think, and you'll be thinking about getting a pussy. I may not be moving from man to man any more, the way I did before I met Scott, but you'll be. You'll be checking out lots of the merchandise. The way you behaved with that waiter? You must know that!" I paid no attention to her reference to the waiter. "You've been moving from man to man? For how long now?" I was shocked yet again! She looked at me narrowly. "Oh, Leslie, I've been thinking you were my girlfriend, and I forgot you still think you're my husband too. Of course! Practically since we were married! With lots of men. Right away I missed the way some of my old boyfriends felt, different from you, so I started in again with one, then with another. I missed my old girlfriends too, the things we used to do together, but they'd all moved away. That's why I wanted you to fill in, to be my new girlfriend. And that's what you've been!" She sighed, reminiscing. "Why do you think I found it so easy to do without your cock? Why do you think I didn't care when you lost your erections? On the other hand you know how I absolutely adored those darling little titties of your when they first began to come in, especially when your nipples got so erogenous that all I had to do was touch them and you'd squeal, and then you'd do anything I asked you to do. It all got a lot easier then!" She was lost in reverie for a moment.