Date: Mon, 4 Aug 2008 06:15:30 -0700 (PDT)
From: Fred Gingerman <gingerfred2005@yahoo.com>
Subject: Teased -- transgender

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 100th. 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 15th 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.


Please tell me what you think at gingerfred2005@yahoo.com

My other stories on nifty:

"Acting Up" transgender -- control

"Panty Pleasures" transgender -- young friends

"Woodville" transgender -- tv

"Mothered" transgender -- control

"Panty Town" transgender -- teen

"Tradition" transgender -- teen

"Punished" transgender -- high school

"Panty Paradise" transgender -- teen

"Kevin and Molly Go to Camp" -- transgender -- teen

"Lovelife" -- transgender -- high school

"My Three Sissies" -- transgender -- tv

"Acting Out" -- transgender -- high school

"Explorers" -- transgender -- high school

"Pantied" -- transgender -- young friends

"Rebuilding" -- transgender -- teen

"The Au Pair" -- transgender -- surgery

"Birthday Girl" -- transgender -- teen

"Genes" -- transgender -- high school

"Brothers in Panties" -- transgender -- teen

"Coach" -- transgender -- control

"Intervention" -- transgender -- high school

"Winners" -- transgender -- teen