The Secret Life of John and Sara, 14

This is Part Fourteen of The Secret Life of John and Sara, started here.

The Secret Life of John and Sara is based on a true story. I’ve fictionalized it to protect the identities of my friends John and Sara, whose ‘secret life’ is secret for a very good reason. John is a Silicon Valley CEO, a sissy and a cuckold, and Sara is a 40-something nymphomaniac Nurse Administrator. Here is their story:

“I said SUCK IT!” My tone was forceful and demanding and brooked no argument.

Sara opened her lips,  took John’s twitching sex into her mouth and started sucking. He groaned beautifully as his poor tortured cock–finally freed of its chastity device–grew in her mouth, a sound of mingled pain and pleasure. He grabbed for his wife’s head and I released her into his hands, watching as his long fingers bunched in her hair and buried her face against him. She gagged a bit and tried to pull back but I pressed my hand against the back of her head.

“Take it you little bitch. Suck that cock!” I pushed her head even farther down onto him, holding her there until she started to heave and press her hands frantically against his thighs.

We let her get some air, and then John shoved his cock back into her mouth, fucking her face in earnest. I was really enjoying the sight of a man dressed up in women’s lingerie fucking a woman’s face. There was something almost poetic about both the scene and the payback.

I got down on my knees beside her so I could whisper into her ear, and I untied my little leather paddle from my belt. I gathered her wrists up behind her with one hand and with the other, I held my paddle.

“You are such a good little cock-sucker, Sara. I always imagined you would be,” I said into her ear and signaled to her John.  He pulled his cock out of her mouth and then I let my paddle fall against her ass. She jumped and cried out.

“Owww!”

I paddled her a few times in short succession.  She struggled a bit, sawing her wrists, but seeing as she could have easily broken my hold, it was obviously a token resistence. She was softening up very nicely.

I pointed at Sara, then mimed slapping my own face. I looked up at John. He gave me a questioning look. I frowned at him.

He slapped her. Then, in a moment of inspiration, he said, “Bitch, get back to sucking my cock!”

Sara gasped. “What did you call me?”

“Bitch. I’m your husband. Now. Suck. My. Cock.” And with that little serving of humiliation, he grabbed the back of her head and shoved it toward him, toward his stockinged thighs and panty-lined balls.

As he pulled his wife onto his cock, I grinned at John. The man was learning fast that he could be every inch the man even wearing panties. A cross-dresser he might be, but a sissy he was not. And I had a feeling that it was going to be a long time before Sara thought about cuckolding him again. We’d both make sure of that….

THE END   (Or rather, the intermission.  If I get enough interest, I might continue on to the good parts, you know, strap-ons and bondage and all that   I DO SO LOVE COUPLES DOMINATION)