The things that used to bring me joy seemed to be following
the law of diminishing returns and, as a result, I was stuck in a rut. Though
there was still one thing that still brought me excitement and joy. Ever since I could remember, I have been a crossdresser. My earliest memory of
this was trying on a pair of my grandmother’s high heels at the age of four and
being laughed at by my father. The shame made that a taboo straight away!
However, I would continue to dress in my sister’s things whenever I secretly
could. It wasn’t just about the clothes, there was a strong desire to be female
but the shame stopped this from being expressed. I guess I was and still am
suffering from gender dysphoria.
That is the very reason the weekends, when I get the chance to dress, really do
bring me a sense of true happiness. For years I would spend the odd Saturday
evening dressing and taking selfies and that was enough. Or should I say, it
was enough until it wasn’t enough. The photos and the clothing gradually became
more risqué and eventually I wanted to share them to see what reaction I would
get. Sometime later, I joined an adult hook-up site where I would upload my
pics and bask in the positive feedback.
Now, I’m not of typical build for a male: I’m 5’4” and overweight (a female
size 20/22) and due to this I don’t have any trouble filling a 38C bra (one
benefit I suppose). I’m also half Vietnamese and half-white, which probably
helps to explain the height and lack of body hair. I was pretty passable I
suppose, with a feminine face, full lips and those oriental eyes. I wasn’t
expecting too many proposals from the site, as I joined looking to meet women
and from my experience, women don’t tend to have much interest in crossdressers.
Many months passed with no genuine interest from the girls, but (predictably)
thousands of messages from men. I had no interest in men whatsoever so I would
delete these straight away without even reading them!
One morning, I logged into the site to check my emails, and amongst the deluge
of messages from men were a few from couples – I always read those, just in
hope the female wants to play alone. It was even from a verified couple so I
knew it was genuine. Upon reading the message I genuinely aroused and
absolutely shocked to the core! I have copy and pasted it below:
“Hi Jada,
I had to get in touch after looking at your profile. Now I’m not sure this will
be for you so please just say no if it isn’t. My name is Gemma and as you can
see I’m part of a couple on here. We’ve been playing on this site for a long
time and married for even longer. The reason I messaged you is because I have a
fantasy and I think you would be perfect to play a role in it. I looked at your
pictures and I love your curvy body! You look around the same size as me (5
foot 5, size 20, 38DD and size 7 feet). Well, in the hope that you are a
similar size, the following is what I would like to happen...
I want you to come round to our house and I want to dress you up in my clothes:
knickers, bra, stockings, heels, dress – everything! I then want to do your
make up just like mine and have you wear a wig that looks just like my hair. I
want to make you look like an exact copy of me. Once this is done I want you on
my bed and playing with yourself using my sex toys while I film you. After a
while, my husband will walk in (I’m getting wet just thinking about this now)
and take you. He’s much bigger and stronger than your feminine self so he’ll be
able to treat you like a sexy little wife. He’s going get you to suck his big
cock and play with your tits and arse before he fucks you. All the time you are
going to be my replacement so he will be calling you Gemma. You will also be
wearing my wedding ring so you will be his wife and you will give him what a
wife should give her husband. I want to film the whole thing until he shoots
his cum inside you.
I hope this sounds good to you because it does to me!! I want this to become a
regular thing so let me know if you want to become the new Gemma. Xxxx”
As I said, I was shocked because as somebody who considered themselves straight
I was so turned on. The email left me confused about my own sexuality after all
these years! I was too stunned to even respond and by the time my curiosity got
the best of me, they deleted their profile. I was devastated! A
once-in-a-lifetime opportunity gone just like that. Maybe it was a fake
profile? But, they were verified? The site had an active forum where we could
all share our experiences. It was a nice community, so I decided to share the
message I received with the others and air my frustrations.
A week or so passed and I’d managed to let go of my disappointment. I’d
continue to post my pics on the site in the fading hope for female interest.
When, one day, out of the blue, I received a message from another couple titled
‘Become me, become the wife’. Well, that got me instantly excited so I opened
up the message straight away in a rush of pure exhilaration.
“Hello Jada,
First of all please allow me to compliment you on your photos, they are just
divine! I recently read your message on the forum about you taking the place of
a wife in the bedroom and I must say, I was incredibly turned on. Although it's
not a situation I have ever imagined, it is now something I must try!
We are a similar size, but you are a good few years younger than me so I hope
that isn't an issue. I'd love to see you dressed in my bra, knickers, stockings
and heels, lying on my bed with my vibrator inside you. You would make such a
wonderful replacement! My husband wouldn't be able to keep his hands off you.
Like a good, dutiful wife, you will let him ravish and use you until he
climaxes inside you like any wife would. Yes, your curvy, plump body would make
you look like the perfect, sexy mummy!
Let's face it; you were born to be a woman not a man. You're short, curvy and
have a tiny clit, and you have those big, pouty cock sucking lips. You are so
much more feminine, soft and curvy than many females I know. Somebody like you
should be on her back, with a womb full of cum, not pretending to be a man most
of the time.
I'm getting rather carried away. Let me get back to the point of my message. I
don't want this to be a one-off meeting; I want you to be my long-term project.
Over time, I want to make you into my sexy replica. You already have that soft
curvy body so we don't need to work on that, it is very similar to mine and the
sizes you mentioned in the story line up with me perfectly, although I am an
inch or two taller but that won't matter as you will be wearing my heels.
I'd love to hear you on the phone so I can find out if you need some voice
training. I want you to sound perfectly feminine when you are squealing for my,
or should I say your husband. Speaking of which, he will make you feel oh so
much of a woman! Robert is 6'2", with a rugby player build and a nice,
big, cock. A real man! He's very dominant and a typical, old school gent who
likes his women sexy and obedient. Which is part of the reason I want you to
take my place - I want some freedom and I can't just leave him without a wife
while I'm off living my life. You can live your fantasy as a middle-aged
housewife, and I get to do the things I have missed out on over the years.
If this does appeal, and I'm sure it will, please message back saying you agree
to be the new Jane.
I look forward to your reply. X"
I refused to let this moment pass and replied instantly…
“Hi there
I absolutely agree to be the new Jane!
As you will have seen in my original post, I have always considered myself
straight but this particular fantasy has really driven me wild. I can’t think
of anything better than becoming Jane and being a gorgeous middle-aged
housewife.”
I sat refreshing my browser waiting for the reply for what felt like hours but
was in reality around 20 minutes. The response from Jane made my heart feel
like it was going to leap out of my chest.
“Thank you for the swift reply.
You mentioned that this “fantasy” has driven you wild but I must say this is
not a fantasy; I want this to be a reality. You will become me and fulfil all
my roles at home as a dutiful wife. In return, you will be treated well by
Robert and lead a pleasant existence in the periods when you are Jane. I am
very happy you have agreed to become the wife of Robert. I wish you much
happiness in your new role. Don’t worry, all our children have grown up so you
won’t have to do any mothering.
Now, initially, I will be around to train you in how to look, dress, act and
talk like me. We will then move on to training in how to please Robert in the
bedroom as I think that is incredibly important. I will teach you how to give
the perfect blowjob and which positions he likes his woman to be in. This part
is where I get my sexual kicks: knowing a male is taking the stereotypical
female role in the relationship to empower me really gets me horny! I want to
see Robert fuck you so hard that struggle to walk. I want to see him plant his
seed inside your womb repeatedly. I want to see you begin to love your role as
Jane and become the perfect housewife.
Please leave your phone number in your reply and I will call you when I am next
available to hear your voice and arrange our first meeting. I will be showing
Robert your pictures tonight and letting him know what I have planned. I think
he will be very excited indeed!”
In one short moment when my brain stopped reasoning, I typed my phone number
into the response box and pressed send.
Later that evening, my phone lit up and vibrated as I received a call from an
unknown number. It’s a cliché, but my heart felt like it dropped into my
stomach as my body was flooded with a rush of fear and excitement. Apprehensively,
I pressed answer and lifted to phone to my ear, barely able to utter a faint
“hello”.
A confident, mature female voice began talking.
“Hello, please tell me who is speaking?”
“… I… um…”
I was lost for words as my anxious mind tripped and stumbled over what I should
say. Do I say Jada (my crossdressing pseudonym) or Mark (the name on my birth
certificate)?
I wasn’t given the choice.
“You are Jane, wife of Robert, correct?” the voice asserted.
“… Yes…” I fearfully replied.
“Fantastic! I’ve been looking forward to speaking to you. But I need to hear
more of your voice so I can determine whether you sound convincing enough.
Please repeat after me “My name is Jane Wilson. I am 56 years old and I love my
husband Robert”.
Thoughts were racing through my head. If she has been a passive wife to a
strong, assertive husband all these years, how is she full of such confidence?
“Come on dear” she urged.
“My, my name is Jane Wilson. I’m 56 years old and I love my husband Robert.”
“Hmm-mm. Not quite right but you have potential.” She assessed. “Not to worry,
we have plenty of time to address that.”
She continued to talk and explain that Robert loved my pics and was very much
on board with her plan. She clarified her hopes by revealing her circumstance.
She was married off to Robert at a young age despite never wanting to marry or
follow the traditional expectations that were enforced on her by her family.
She wasn’t even sure about her sexuality. By the time she was 25; she had 2
children and had her final child at 38, due to Robert’s demands. Now her
youngest child had moved away to University in Edinburgh and her parents had
long since passed, she finally felt liberated to express her repressed feelings
to Robert. The years must have mellowed his archaic attitude somewhat as he had
some empathy but was adamant that he would not be without a wife. This was why
Jane had suggested that she finds a temporary replacement to tend to his needs
while she got the chance to explore.
I empathized with Jane as I felt my life path had been strongly determined by
the expectations of others and not my own desires. Jane wanted to meet in
person but I explained I had never left the house dressed in female clothes,
due to the fear of being outed. She was understanding and allowed me to meet
dressed in male clothes, on this occasion.
A few days passed until the day of our meeting at a high street coffee branch.
I spotted her straight away but with me being dressed in male clothing, it took
her a few seconds to notice me. She was dressed casually in jeans, boots and a
nice lowish-cut top. I felt attracted to her but maybe was it envy? I noticed
her full thighs and wished mine would look that good in tight-fitting pants. I
also very clearly remember that the first thing she said was “Oh yes, you are
the perfect size and shape for this!” I knew what she meant straight away as we
were almost identical in size and stature. With it being a Saturday afternoon,
the general noise was loud enough for us to discuss this unusual topic without
being overheard by somebody nearby. We chatted about our ourselves and what we
liked to do, wear, eat, drink, listen to etc. We had some similarities but not
that many. She said I was going to have to train myself to enjoy what she does,
followed by a cheeky wink. After a couple of coffees she suggested we go back
to her place where we could chat more freely and I try on some outfits as she
couldn’t wait to see me wearing some of her things.
I followed Jane back to her house in my car. She’d already told me that Robert
wouldn’t be home but I was still quite nervous and excited. She lived in a
beautiful, detached, Victorian house with a large front garden. Once inside,
she gave me a tour then lead me to the bedroom to show me her wardrobe and reminded
me that when I become Jane this will all be mine. I’ve got to admit I was
incredibly jealous of her extensive wardrobe. She had so many gorgeous dresses,
heels and lingerie.
“What do you think?” she questioned.
“I think I’m in heaven. You have such good taste!” I replied.
“Ha! It’s not my taste. It’s what Robert demands. I don’t care for fashion, I
simply did what was expected of me and played the role of the ultra-feminine
and dutiful wife.” Jane revealed as she continued to release the resentment that
had built up over the decades. “But I can already see that appeals to you. What
a cruel fate life brings about to so many of us. This is why I need to follow
my heart and you need to follow yours.”
She snapped out of her thinking and then picked out a bra and knickers set from
the top drawer, asking me to try it on to make sure her clothing would fit. It
was all size 20 - 22 so I was hopeful. She told me not to be shy so I stripped
off and tried them on. I still remember the thrill I got when she said “Oh,
Robert is going to love your tits! They’re lovely – I quite like them too” as
she grabbed them and gave them a shake. She then said I need heels and got me
to try on a pair of her stilettos, which were a perfect fit. Next she asked me
to twirl, which I did while feeling embarrassed. She said “Lovely! Jane you are
very sexy housewife! Robert won’t be able to keep his hands off you. Just like
he couldn’t keep his hands off me”
We spent another 30 mins or so trying on outfits, especially lingerie, before
she asked me open the bottom drawer and passed me a key to unlock it. Inside,
there were so many vibrators and other sex toys. Jane asked me to pick one so I
chose a realistic medium sized dildo. She congratulated me on a good choice.
“Robert bought all of these for me but I never picked the realistic ones to
play with. They reminded me too much of my predicament as a wife under the
control of a man.” She explained before grinning. “Not anymore, though.” She
continued.
Next, She asked me to lie on the bed as she grabbed a bottle of lube and
followed me. She then pulled down the knickers I was wearing and asked me to
raise my knees. She then proceeded to use her finger to lube my hole and began
to slowly insert the toy inside me. It was painful at first but still
enjoyable. I became instantly hard, which made her smile.
“I love that you like having a cock inside you. You enjoy it so much more than
I ever did. I had to dream of anything other than a man when I was penetrated,
just to escape the reality. But you, I can tell you are ideal wife material.”
She remarked as she became visibly excited.
Jane then winked me off as she reeled off everything that she planned to do to
me and what she wanted to see Robert do to me. She commented that she was so
happy and turned on to see me responding so well to this. She asked me to
imagine myself getting pounded by Robert and having his cum deep inside my
“womb”. The euphoria was driving me wild and at that very moment I came harder
than I ever have before.
“You naughty slut, Jane” was the last thing I heard as I collapsed from
exhaustion.
“You would make a wonderful wife, Jane!”
“Just imagine how happy you would be living as Mrs Wilson.”
“The lingerie, the dresses, the heels would be all yours.”
Jane’s voice swirled around my head for weeks following our encounter. I
couldn’t focus at work as I constantly dreamed of the scenario Jane had
suggested to me.
*Bzzzzzz*
My phone vibrating, snapped me out of another daydream as I sat in front of the
TV, neglecting whatever I had selected on Netflix. Picking up the phone, I knew
the message would be from either Jane or a marketing company. I didn’t really
keep friends and rarely spoke to my family so my introversion had at least made
life predictable. Though the introduction of Jane was changing that.
[Hope you enjoyed our meeting, Jane. Let’s meet again tomorrow –
same time, same place. J x]
A jolt of excitement shot through me, triggering me into an instant response. I
began to type…
[I can’t wait! Ma...
I didn’t want to upset her so corrected my message…
[I can’t wait! Jane x]
My mind ran away with itself once again, dreaming up potential scenarios that
could await me tomorrow before snapping back into reality. Looking around my
dingy, drab home, I once again felt that all to familiar numb depression of
life – the life of Mark. Often, I questioned the point of even continuing this
existence - was this a life worth living? Then my mind switched back to Jane
and her life: her beautiful house, her wonderful clothing, and the freedom she
had as a lady of leisure. Oh just the thought filled my stomach with
butterflies! That’s the life I yearned for as a child but one I grew to knew
was impossible as life continually beat me with the reality stick.
I shot out of bed, as the sunlight penetrated the worn, tired curtains hanging
unevenly from rail in my bedroom. I hadn’t had the energy to jump out of bed in
anticipation of the day in years! I showered, dressed and shot out of the
house, powered by the prospect of what unpredictable excitement life had in
store for me today.
“Oat flat white please” I chirped to the barista.
“Can I take your name please?” she replied.
“Mark” I smiled back.
Once settled in the far corner of the café, I began mindlessly scrolling through
my phone to pass the time before Jane would arrive. Every now and then I would
look up and scan the room to see if I had missed her. A shadow cast across my
lap as I read through a rant on Twitter. Raising my gaze, I was gladdened by
the presence of Jane. She was wearing a gorgeous, belted, knitted-dress with
heeled ankle boots.
“Wow, you look great, Jane!” I remarked as I stood to embrace her.
“Just modeling your future.” She replied. “Oh and call me Jay from now on.
Having two Janes is just confusing.”
She sat down after hanging her bag and coat over the chair. After crossing her
legs, she eyed my empty disposable cup, with the name ‘Mark’ scrawled over it.
Raising her eyebrows and giving me the look, she didn’t need to say anything
for me to understand the sin I had committed.
“I’m serious about the whole thing you know? You may think this is just some
kinky game but I am 100% genuine and I want to know you are too.” Jay declared
with authority.
“Oh, I am, definitely!” I blurted out eagerly.
“Good, then let’s head back to mine straight away. No time to waste.” She
insisted, giving me no room to argue.
Jay picked up her belongings and headed straight to the door with me following
behind like lost puppy. This time she asked me to jump in her car – an almost
brand new yellow Audi A3.
“Nice car!” I commented.
“Robert may be a stubborn traditionalist, but he does look after his wife” was
her reply.
It wasn’t long until we were pulling into the gravel drive, after Jay remotely
opened the large gates. Once parked, we headed inside and Jay ushered me to the
large kitchen table. She had a list in front of her that she quickly scanned
through before beginning to talk once again.
“So, from my general observations, I’ve compiled a list of areas of improvement
necessary to turn you into Jane.”
This felt like a work progress meeting and had me quite nervous.
“Okay.” Was all I could muster up.
“Jane, your voice needs work and it will take time. It’s too masculine so I’ve
purchased an online voice-feminization course that with intense practice should
start to reap rewards within a month or so. If that doesn’t do the trick we
will move onto in-person lessons with a coach”
I nod.
“Next, I have packed a bag of shoes with heels of varying heights and types.
When you are at home, I want you to practice walking in them. Wear them at all
times when home so it feels completely natural to wear them and becomes second
nature. I also want you to sit with legs crossed at all times as the way you
currently sit is far too masculine. Do this at home, work, on the train, in a
restaurant – anywhere you go where sitting is required”
She continued “Finally, after our conversations, I understand you consider
yourself to be a straight man.”
“That’s right.” I replied. “Possibly bi-curious, I suppose”.
She cocked her eyebrow and laughed.
“Sexuality is fluid, my dear. Trust me.”
The feeling of cynicism must have crept across my face and encouraged Jay to
hammer home her point.
“It’s fine if you don’t believe me, Jane. The only way to remove doubt is with
proof, so allow me to prove this to you and indulge me. If at the end of our
experiment, you still consider yourself as a straight man then fair enough.
What do you say?”
It all sounded logical to me so I nodded in agreement. But what exactly had I
agreed to?
Jay stood and asked me to follow her upstairs.
We were back in her bedroom where once again she asked me to strip and get
changed into the lingerie left on the bed – high-waisted deep, purple knickers
with a stretchy satin seat a sheer front, a matching bra. Next she removed her
ankle boots and knitted dress, revealing the identical underwear she was
wearing. She then asked me to put on the clothing which was still warm from her
body heat. I wasn’t sure how this was going to prove anything but I was
enjoying myself so I honestly didn’t care. She grabbed a plain gown and wrapped
it round herself.
I was then led over to her vanity table where she began to apply make-up and
placed a wig that was a replica of her own hair – shoulder length, black and
wavy with an asymmetrical side swoop. As soon as she placed it on my head I was
astounded! I really could pass for a slightly younger version of Jane. Not that
she looked 56 - Jane had obviously had a little botox as I couldn’t really spot
many lines or wrinkles and could pass for a lady in her 40s. The way she had
applied my make-up also helped create the illusion that I was older than my 35
years.
“I expect you to begin growing out your hair so we no longer need this wig.”
Jay commented while using a comb to give extra volume.
“What do you think, Jane?” She asked.
I couldn’t conjure up to words to explain my feelings so, typically, Jay told
me what I thought.
“You look like and are beautiful, mature housewife. Now, wait here while I get
us a celebratory drink.” Jay asserted.
I admired my reflection while she headed to the kitchen and returned with two
glasses of wine. Jay passed me one glass and gestured for us to clink them
before I took a large gulp. It was delicious unlike the wine I had drank in the
past! I savoured the flavor with each sip.
“This red is full-bodied and very moreish, which is how Robert is certain to
feel about you, Jane.” She teased, causing me to blush and giggle.
Thanks to my eastern genes and the fact I rarely drank, I was already feeling a
little woozy.
“Remember what I said before about sexuality being fluid?” Jay quizzed
playfully.
I nodded.
“Well, I want to show you what I mean but in order to do that, you have to let
go of those silly, restrictive views you hold about being a straight man. Those
kinds of beliefs make us tight and rigid but all the wonderful things that life
is offering to us only present themselves when we loosen-up, let-go and become
playful. So will you trust me and just go with the flow, Jane?”
It seemed like Jay had lightened-up. She seemed less harsh and it really made
me feel safer around her. I wasn’t sure if it was the drink but I was now
feeling open and far less resistant to any of her suggestions. So, once again,
I nodded but this time I also smiled to give my approval.
She reached under my dress and began to massage me through my knickers.
“You have such sexy, delicate lingerie, Jane. You like to wear it because it
reminds you that you are a gorgeous housewife, who wants nothing more than to
be craved by her husband. Not that you don’t enjoy the admiring glances from
other men. Is that true?” She whispered seductively as her hand continued to
tease my hardening cock through the soft underwear.
Her words and actions combined to send jolts of pleasure throughout my body and
mind.
“Oh god, yes!” was all I could manage.
Her other hand began to massage my breast.
“Can you feel your big, weighty tits in that bra? Those tits that have nursed
three children. I bet you would love to have your husband playing with them and
getting those nipples hard with his tongue, wouldn’t you?”
“I would, I would” I panted in excitement.
“Straight men don’t want that, Jane. Straight men don’t think that way. Sexy,
mature housewives are the only people who think that way and nobody else. Tell
me what you are.”
“I’m a sexy, mature housewife.” I replied.
Next, Jay move my knickers to the side and allowed my cock to spring free. She
began to jack me off.
“Tell me more. Tell me what I want to hear.” She commanded.
“I’m Jane Wilson and I’m a sexy housewife. Nnngh!” I was so turned on now!
“More!” Jay demanded.
Unconscious thoughts turned into words as Jay teased them out of me. “Ugh. I
love being Jane and wearing sexy outfits. I love being a woman!”
Jay released my cock and urged me to reveal deeper and darker desires, buried
away from my conscious mind.
“You want my life. You want my husband. You want him to fuck you hard every
night. You want to be me in every way. You wish you could be me for the rest of
your life. don’t you?” she rasped as she resumed pumping me.
It felt like everything she said was a seed that was being implanted and taking
root in my psyche. I was in a completely suggestible state.
“Yes I want your life. I want to be Jane Wilson forever” I almost screamed as I
was on the verge of orgasm.
Then she stopped and pulled her hands away. I could hear the silence of the
room.
“See, Jane? I was right, wasn’t I?” Jay asked, quietly and confidently.
I nodded while still panting. “Please don’t stop.” I begged.
She picked up her phone and dialed.
“You can come upstairs now. Jane is ready for you.” She smirked.
A mixture of excitement, horror and lust coursed through my
body as soon as I heard those words. My head was spinning from the wine now.
But… I’d only drank one glass and even a lightweight such as myself does not
get this drunk from one glass of wine.
“You are excited for this, Jane. You can’t wait for your husband to come in and
ravish you, like the fine, sexy mature woman you are. You want his big dick
inside your pretty mouth. This is the way we are going to correct the error
life made – the cruel fate that made you male instead of female.” Jane’s raspy
voice continued to chant into my ear.
She grabbed my left hand and held it up to my face.
“Look, you are Mrs Jane Wilson – married to Robert for 37 years. Mother of
three children. A straight woman, who adores men and loves embodying all things
feminine.” She continued.
“You already dreamed of being a woman before I came into your life. Why else
would a man dress up in female clothes whenever he had the opportunity, and for
so many years? Now I’m here to make your fantasy become a reality. You already
looked very feminine. Now I’m here to make you all woman. Trust me Jane and let
me guide you to womanhood. Let go of any attachment you had to your old
identity and completely embrace being Jane Wilson.”
Jay’s words had an almost hypnotic effect. It’s like each sentence she uttered
had the power to rewire the neurons inside my brain. Every passing word
convinced me that this was the right thing to do - I was finally on the correct
path towards my destiny.
The door began to open and a tall and handsome Caucasian man with broad
shoulders and a powerful physique entered the room. He was wearing well-fitted
a grey suit with a white shirt – the top two buttons open. I’d never felt
attracted to a man before but I’m almost certain that was what I was feeling
now. In some ways it was different to the attraction I had previously felt
towards females – combined with the allure was a sense of my vulnerability. The
sheer size and presence of him made me feel like I was needed to surrender to
his will.
“What do you think of your wife, Robert?” Jay chimed to break what felt like an
everlasting silence.
While looking me in the eye, in the most masculine of baritone voices he
replied, “Jane, you look stunning!”
He stepped forwards and reached for my left hand, raising it, and gazing at the
ring on my finger. “As stunning as the day I took you as my wife!” he declared.
My heart leapt and fluttered in excitement upon hearing those words and my
cheeks, already red from the alcohol, now felt like they were burning.
“Take your wife, Robert.” Jay growled.
He needed no further encouragement. Pulling me into his body, made the
difference in our stature even more obvious. He towered over me, meaning I had
to crank my neck to the point of straining to even look into his eyes. Another
indicator of the level of contrast was his huge, strong hands – one wrapped
around my bicep and the other now placed firmly on my round, soft buttock. His
fingers dug in as he began to massage my voluptuous rear. My round, curvy body
was now pressed against his firm, masculine torso, reminding me of just how
feminine I was next to this alpha male. To compound the truth further, I could
now feel his huge tool hardening in his trousers, prodding me in my tummy.
Robert bent over and firmly placed his hand under my jaw to lift my head and
began to kiss me with vigour and passion. In the heat of the moment, it was as
if my identity as Mark – a straight male – had been removed from my mind. As
far as I was concerned, I had completely let go and become Jane Wilson, the
wife of Robert. We continued to kiss as Robert’s hands roamed all over my body.
He guided us towards the bed, which I toppled onto backwards.
A few moments later, Robert raised himself to his feet.
Jay, who I’d completely forgotten was in the room, instructed me, “Show your husband
what a good wife you are and unzip him, Jane.”
I was completely suggestible and no resistance remained in me. I unbuckled his
belt and unzipped him, allowing his trousers to fall to the ground, revealing
the astounding, hard bulge in his tight briefs. I couldn’t help but caress him
as Jay watched in anticipation. I moved my head next to this giant tool to feel
its warmth against my face before freeing it from its constraints.
“Yes Jane, fucking suck your husband!” Jay rasped with aggression as I moved my
hand up and down his huge, unyielding shaft.
I stuck out my tongue and ran it along the underside of his
monster-cock as Robert let out a groan of pleasure. Once I reached the top,
through the gap in his foreskin, I teased the visible part of the bulbous head
of his penis with my tongue, before sliding it underneath and circling around
it. This drove him wild!
I am a person, who lived most of their life inside of their head, instead of
their body, over thinking at every step. But something had changed in me. All
of the pleasure I had received from past girlfriends had now become my own
toolset that I was using to tease this hunk of a man.
“Take me in your mouth, Jane.” He instructed.
I pulled back his foreskin and just about managed to fit the large head of his
penis inside my mouth as I began to give what, in reality was, my first
blowjob. However, inside my mind, I had done this many times, over the years. I
was Jane, a sexually experienced housewife, giving her husband the
gratification he deserved, performing a serviced that gave her just as much
pleasure as him.
In the midst of this trance-like state, the words exchanged between Robert and
Jay did not even register with me…
“I told you, I could find a replacement.”
“Well, you proved me wrong as this one is perfect! However, I have no idea how
you convinced a man to take the job.”
“It was easy, finding out about his history, I knew he would have a similar
inclination to me. I would have done just about anything to have freed myself
from this prison of an existence to become what I always felt I should have
been. In his case, he just needed showing what his true feelings were. Once
that was established, the devil’s-breath really did do the trick.”
“Well, for somebody who has never sucked a cock before, she sucks much better
than you ever did.”
“I never wanted to suck your cock. I always wished for one of my own. Every
time I had to pleasure you, the only way I could escape the task, was to
imagine I was the one receiving the blow job.”
“If you’d have told me that 20 years ago, my feelings would have been hurt, but
our relationship matured to the point we became like friends, but I must admit,
I missed you being my sexy plaything, even though it was all a charade. I’m
glad you found a way I could have that once again and you can have what you
always wanted.”
“Happy to help, but this is just the beginning. There’s a long way to go and
there are many ways that we could trip and stumble so have your fun but make
sure stay focused!”
Robert lifted me to my feet with ease as he and Jay pulled the dress carefully
over my head, making sure not to remove the wig. Next, my knickers were
removed, freeing my small but rock hard penis. Jay guided me onto the bed into
‘doggy position’ and I could now feel the wonderful sensation of Robert’s
tongue inside me, preparing me for what was next.
Jay kept her face close to mine with her hands placed on my cheeks while I felt
Robert’s huge cock slowly enter me. I cried in pain, which Robert must have
taken as a sign that lube was needed, as the next thing I felt was the cold gel
being generously applied to my hole.
Jay began to talk me through the experience as Robert’s cock moved slowly back
and forth inside me.
“Oh you love being Jane, don’t you? Tell me how much you want this!” Jay
insisted.
I loved the imagination of this roleplay, it was really driving me wild with
excitement. The fantasy of becoming woman was the biggest thrill I could dream
of. “uuuuugh” I cried.
“Say it!” she demanded. “Say, I’m Jane and I love being Robert’s filthy wife!”
“I… I’m Jane and I love being Robert’s filthy wife!” I cried as Robert pushed
deeper inside me.
A sinister grin crept across her face. “Now, Robert! Fuck Jane and shoot your
hot cum inside her waiting snatch!” She commanded.
Robert’s hands freed my breasts from the bra cups as he grabbed hold of them
and increased the speed at which he was fucking me. Faster and faster and
harder and harder. I couldn’t contain myself as I screamed as my whole body
shook and jiggled from the force and speed at which he was pounding me. It
wasn’t long until he was pumping his warm, seed deep inside of me and we both
collapsed into a heap on the bed. His cock still firmly lodged deep inside.
“Ouch!” I was so sore down there and soon remembered why. I
started to slowly wake up in a haze, “Well, I guess I’m no longer a straight
man.” I thought to myself. As my senses and memories returned, I could feel the
bra straps digging into my shoulders as a pertinent reminder of the roleplay in
which I had taken part.
“Ah, glad to see you are waking after such an exhausting experience, Jane.” I
heard Jay’s voice call out.
I sat up and began to rub my eyes. “My head is throbbing!” I complained.
“Here take one of these and have a drink of water,” Jay empathised, whilst
handing over a small pink pill and a glass tumbler.
“I always get a headache after a good fucking, and, it seems you are the same!
I suppose it makes sense considering we look like twins right now.” Jay
commented.
Jay continued, “You really turned your husband on, Jane, I’ve never seen him
that worked-up before. He already can’t wait until the next session!”
“We’ll have to arrange it soon,” I replied, “I’ll send you a text when I get
home and we can go from there.” I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to play with
this couple again. I’d gotten what I wanted – a sexual itch scratched - but was
left feeling dirty and ashamed. I hoped she would get the hint that I wanted to
get washed, dressed and head back to mine ASAP.
“Home?” a perplexed Jay asked. “You are already home, love. I don’t know, you
menopausal ladies and your memory problems.” She tutted.
My head was banging, and I really did not have the energy to play along with
this game any longer.
“Heh, yeah…” forcing a mild chuckle at what was now becoming a tired joke. It’s
amazing how quickly a sexual climax can erode your enthusiasm!
“I really just want to go home now, I don’t feel too good.” I explained,
looking around the room, relieved to see Robert was no longer around.
“Jane, think about it. This is a huge house and there is plenty of space for us
to all live here. You could move in and save so much money on rent and bills!
I’m serious! How about you give it a week and see how you like it? After seven
days, if you want to go back your place, no problem?”
Jay’s powers of persuasion must have been good because I almost felt like it
was physically impossible to not agree. “Okay, deal.” I accepted her proposal.
“I just need to go home first and pack up my things and I’ll come over
tomorrow.” I added.
A soft chuckle emerged from Jay as she pointed out the ridiculous nature of my
statement. “Jane, you silly lady, all of your things are here – your clothes,
shoes, make-up, perfumes and, most importantly, your husband!” It was as if
every word Jay uttered made complete sense, in a “of course, why didn’t I think
of that!” kind of way.
“Why don’t you go and get cleaned up and get changed into something more
appropriate than lingerie, you naughty girl!” Jay recommended and pointed me in
the direction of the en-suite.
Upon entering the en-suite, it was clear this was Jane’s personal bathroom as
it was full of all things feminine. From the rouge and pastel hues of the walls
to the large ornate mirror and Victorian bath tub – there was no escaping the
unadulterated womanly essence of the room.
“Ugh,” Jay interrupted my musing, “I always hated this room, but Robert
insisted that a wife should enjoy all things feminine and pretty and had a team
of designers come up with this princess’s paradise.” Her rant continued. “Well,
this is all yours now so do enjoy being the queen of the house, and indulge in
your desire to be girly at all times, Jane.”
She began to draw a bath and emptied in all kinds of divine-smelling products
into the water before heading towards the doorway. “I will leave you a more
appropriate outfit on the bed, which you can change into after your bath.” She
announced upon her exit.
The bath felt wonderful as it soothed all of my aches and sore spots. The
products Jay had pored into the water made my skin feel softer and more
sensitive than ever before. It felt heavenly. As a basked in the calming water,
flashes of my earlier experience with Robert invaded my mind. It had all
happened so fast that it seemed to be only now my mind and body could process
it. The memories of his huge, hard cock inside me and the feeling of being
filled with his seed, that potent seed that allowed me to mother three
children, brought about an intense arousal! My hands moved towards my now silky
smooth breasts and began to play with my nipples as I dreamed of Robert
suckling on them whilst embracing me with his powerful arms. My right hand slid
down to my cock and began to slide up and down as more memories flooded my
mind, memories of all the wonderful fucks Robert had treated me to over the
years. Faster and faster, I stroked, harder and harder I tweaked my nipple as
my appreciation for being Jane, Robert’s wife intensified, until I came,
squirting my juices into the bath water.
Pure ecstasy was replaced with revulsion as I looked down at my penis,
realising that I wasn’t actually Jane. It all felt so real and now
dream-shattering reality had dragged me down! Oh how I wished I didn’t have
this awful thing attached to my body and instead would have a pretty vagina.
Robert would prefer that and all I wanted was to please Robert.
I felt refreshed and my skin was glowing after bathing for
an extended period. Exiting the bathroom, wearing the overtly feminine bathrobe
that was hanging on the door, I made my way back into the bedroom, instantly
spotting the outfit Jay had left for me on the bed – a deep green, floral wrap
dress with a plunging neck, 2” court shoes and a matching navy lingerie set
(bra, knickers, suspenders and stockings). Before dressing, I knew I should put
on some basic make-up and my wig, which I did whilst sitting at the vanity. I
opted for a natural style of make-up with some subtle lipstick. I noticed Jay
had left the beautiful wedding band on the vanity so I placed it on my finger
and complimented it with a dainty, gold choker and bangle set.
Once dressed, I spritzed myself with the exquisite Dior Oud Ispahan that I had
been eyeing while I was applying my make-up. I really hoped the womanly scent
would appeal to my husband. I tried to walk as femininely as possible as I
descended the staircase, these short heels made it relatively simple as I was
used to wearing at least 3” heels when I dressed at home.
The sound of classical jazz drifted from a room downstairs, so it made sense to
head in that direction. The antique, oak door creaked as I pushed it open and
peered around the corner. Robert sat in a leather-backed study chair, nursing a
glass of whisky. “Ah Jane, do come in and take a seat.” Robert invited me
inside and directed me to the chair opposite. I carefully and daintily made my
way to the chair, taking small steps that made my hips swayed with every click
of my heels - it seemed to come naturally, despite the decades of walking like
a man. The blatant feel of my satin underwear against the light, airy fabric of
the dress and the scent of the exotic perfume reminded me of my predicament. I
slowly sat, smoothed my skirt, and crossed my legs as I sat across from Robert.
“Drink?” Robert asked as I smiled a nervous smile. “Yes please.” I replied as
butterflies danced in my tummy.
Robert mixed a cosmopolitan and handed it to me, commenting “your favorite.”
“Thank you.” I nervously giggled back. I carefully grasped the glass and tilted
it towards my lips. The hit of sweetness and notes of sour combined deliciously
on my tongue. After a few sips, that woozy feeling had returned, but I assumed
it must be due to the wine I had drank earlier.
“So, Jay tells me you have decided to stay for a while?” Robert asked.
“Um, yes, but I’m worried about getting to work as it’s so far from here. I
think I may have to head back after all.” I replied with trepidation about his
coming response.
“My wife will never have to work so that is not a problem. Quit that dead end
job and be done with it for good.” Robert stated with unwavering certainty.
“But, Robert, this arrangement is only for a week. I can’t quit as I won’t be
able to afford my rent.” I responded, somewhat worried that I may upset him.
A look of puzzlement and pity was displayed across Robert’s face as he
explained the situation as if I were a child. “Jane, quit the job. If, and I
have no idea why you would, you decide to go back to your old life, I will
employ you at my firm on double what you currently earn.”
I remembered, from my conversations with Jay, that Robert owned a large firm
that worked in, I think, some kind medical field, but I wasn’t really paying
too much attention at the time. I’m not sure what kind of job I could do there,
considering I had no scientific experience whatsoever?
“Robert, I have never worked in medicine before, so I’m not sure how that would
work” I tried to reason.
I had clearly caused some annoyance as Robert retorted “Don’t be silly, woman,
you would be working with the girls at reception or as a PA. Pfffft medicine!”.
Feeling ashamed for my stupidity, I blushed and looked down at my patent court
shoes.
Robert raised himself out his seat and positioned himself behind me. Placing
both hands on my shoulders, he attempted to sooth my embarrassment. “My dear
Jane, don’t worry your pretty head about working. I want you to know that I
will look after all of your needs – financially and other – as I am your
husband and that is my job.” Either Robert had a tongue made of silver or the
alcohol was taking effect because once again all my fears were allayed, and my
confusion corrected by the simple utterance of a sentence or two.
I was somewhat unaware of the peculiarity of my current mind state. Whenever
Jay or Robert conversed with me as if I were Jane, I genuinely believed that I
was her. It was as if my previous life – all 35 years – never happened at all.
In that very moment, I was Jane! In that very moment, only memories of being
Jane existed. Even memories of Jane’s history would emerge without me ever
having experienced them. Was my brain constructing these memories to make my
adaption to the role easier? Don’t get me wrong, there were periods where I
recollected my life as Mark, but the longer I spent in this house, the less
often they occurred.
The hours flew by as I spent the evening in absorbing conversation with Robert.
He was one of those people who could enrapture you with his stories and
intelligent observations. He was a man of extensive experience and
understanding. Being around him was both enlightening but also intimidating. I
no longer felt confident about my own thoughts and opinions whilst in the
presence of obvious intellectual superiority. However, Robert must have been
well acquainted with his cerebral prowess, as he was skilful enough to
interject the conversation with compliments about my beauty and dress-sense,
managing to make me blush several times throughout the evening. The drink had
continued to flow, and I was now in a state well beyond tipsy.
It was getting late without me realizing. Upon looking at the clock, and being
shocked that it was now past 2 AM, I asked Robert if he could show me to my
room as it was getting so late. Surprised, Robert informed me that I would be
sleeping with him in our marital bed. “Jane, a husband and wife must sleep in
the same bed in order to keep their relationship alive, my dear.”
“But what about Jay?” I asked, bemused.
“Jay is not my wife, you are. Jay will be sleeping in one of the guest bedrooms
for a while.” Robert replied.
Once again, I simply accepted an answer that seemed to make complete sense,
despite the gaping holes that were clearly there. I followed Robert up to the
bedroom and changed into a beautiful deep burgundy negligee before slipping
under the covers with my husband. The very thought of being the wife of such a
masculine, assured man filled my tummy with butterflies.
We made love that evening. It was different to the experience earlier that day
where Robert had taken me with pure animal lust and aggression. This was a soft
and passionate affair, full of romantic kissing and intertwined bodies. I loved
being ravished in missionary position as his hard, masculine body lay atop of
me, my legs wrapped over him, my nails fervently digging into his back. He came
inside me once again as we kissed with deep affection, me wishing I could get
pregnant by this wonderful man. The words “I love you, Robert!” slipped from my
soft, feminine lips – this coming from pure feeling in the pit of my stomach
and not from the mind. He returned the sentiment, “I love you Jane.” Before I
drifted off into blissful sleep, feeling safe and secure, embraced by my
husband’s powerful arms. Not once that night did I think of myself as Mark. I
even dreamed dreams of my life as Jane, loving wife of Robert.
The stern call of “Wake up, Jane!” shocked me into
alertness.
It was one of those experiences when you wake up and you have no idea of who
you are, never mind what day it is. It’s almost a mystical experience as there
is no connection with the memories you have accumulated throughout your life,
just blissful being – no self as the Buddhists would say. As an adult, this
experience, when it happened, would almost always be brought to a screeching
halt when I remembered who I was and what I had to do that day, especially if I
had to go to work. Then the mild depression would return to replace that
momentary feeling of peaceful liberation. Today, however, as the memories of
what had happened with both Jay and Robert began to trickle back into recollection,
this stimulated feelings of exhilaration and elation.
The voice that had woken me was Jay’s. I turned to look for Robert but he was
no longer in bed with me.
“I’m sorry Jane, Robert has gone to work so you won’t be treated to a morning
fucking session.” Jay teased, causing me to blush. “Oh, I heard you both in bed
last night so don’t try and act all coy and innocent with me.”
Bizarrely, Jay was wearing my clothes from the previous day – a button up navy
shirt, jeans and a baseball cap. She must have seen the confusion on my face as
she interrupted my thought process by stating that we have a busy day ahead,
completely shutting down any potential inquiry.
I was still wearing the negligee from last night and, now that all my senses
had returned, I was aware of the feel of a stickiness between my ass-cheeks,
which caused me to further blush. I had no time to dwell on this as Jay
reminded me to “hurry up, time is of the essence!” so I rushed to go and get
cleaned up from last night’s exploits.
Once showered, I spotted the outfit Jay had already picked out for me laid upon
the bed. It was a crimson lacy top with ¾ length sleeves and a scoop neck –
obviously designed to reveal a cleavage; my cleavage to be exact. There was
also an a-line skirt with a split up to the thigh and a pair of Mary Jane
heels. The underwear she selected was a classy, strappy, satin, polka-dot
underwear set – Jay had unmistakeably selected a balcony bra to emphasize my
boobs and add an extra jiggle to accompany any movement.
I dressed, applied my make up and donned the wig before asking Jay how I
looked. I was expecting at best a compliment and at worst a rebuke, but what I
got was completely unexpected. Jay asked me to turn around so she could see
better. As I turned, (so she was now facing my back) she stepped forward and
placed her arms around me, running her hand along my thigh and pubic area,
accessed through the split in my skirt, at the same time as pulling me
backwards and pushing herself into my shapely arse. She positioned her mouth
next to my ear and whispered “completely fuckable,”. We stayed in that position
for a few moments, with her heavy breathing sending tingles down my neck and
spine, before she released me and asked me to follow her downstairs.
We entered the kitchen where I found a glass of water and an assortment of
pills on a saucer. “You need to take your medication, Jane, these are important
for a menopausal woman.” Jay explained straight away. I knew I wasn’t literally
a menopausal woman and that taking medication without knowing what it is was a
bad idea. Jay must have sensed my hesitation. “I can see Mrs is being fussy.
Well at least drink the water as you must be dehydrated,”. That I had no issues
with, and was rather thirsty, so I did as requested.
Jay began to explain what we had instore for us that day – a trip to the salon
was first on the agenda. Just when I was about to ask why we were going to the
salon, that fuzzy feeling from yesterday along with the accompanying headache
began to slowly return. I was now becoming familiar with the tell-tale signs. I
could hardly focus on Jay’s ramble about the schedule for the day. She must
have seen I was in pain as she once again reminded me to take my medication to
help. In desperation, I picked up the pills and swallowed them.
Not long after, we were on our way into town, with Jay driving. The headache
had lessened to a milder tension now but the groggy, light-headed` feeling
remained. Along the way, Jay parked up in a very familiar place. It was the
carpark for my flat. “What on earth were we doing here?” I thought. “Give me
your keys. I need to pop into your place to pick up some of your things. What
number was it again?” Jay prompted. “27,” I responded, without even feeling the
need to question her actions, as I placed the keys into her hand. She jumped
out of the vehicle and headed inside for around 20 minutes, before re-emerging
with a couple of full bin bags that she placed in the boot of the car.
No more questions were asked. Jay started the car, once again, and continued
with the journey. We were heading towards the town centre but ended up driving
into an industrial estate-cum-retail park. There were a few white goods retail
outlets and several large units which would have been impossible to distinguish
from each other, if it weren’t for the signs above the doorways. We parked
outside a large double unit with a sign on the fence displaying the logo for
‘RJW & Associates Medical’. My head remained fuzzy but I knew this wasn’t a
salon so I wanted to ask Jay why she had brought me here. She must have
anticipated this and sharply informed me, “The salon is round the back. They
rent a room within this facility.”, once again, bluntly ending my curiosity
with what seemed like the most rational, logical answer.
“Follow me,” Jay barked. I tried to catch up with her fast-paced strides but
struggled in my heels. The rapid clicking of the heels against concrete
alongside the exaggerated swaying of my ample cleavage, thanks to the balcony
bra, reminding me of my present situation. Jay stopped, turned around and
waited for me to catch up. She grinned, “You dirty, old MILF, trying to turn me
on with your big udders are you?”. I was so embarrassed!
Eventually we reached a small door at the back of the building. Jay pressed the
buzzer next to the steel door and, almost instantly, we were greeted by a lady
in scrubs and a face-covering, which given the current levels of COVID and the
fact this was a salon inside a medical facility wasn’t surprising at all. She escorted
us inside to a room which looked somewhat like a salon – in the sense there was
lots of beauty equipment, but it also looked cold and unwelcoming. Unlike the
beauty parlours you usually see, filled with laughter and gossip, this one felt
more like a laboratory.
I waited nervously as Jay and the lady stood close to each other and conversed
at a whispering volume. A few moments later, the discreet conversation abruptly
ended as the masked lady asked out loud “So, who do we have here?”. “Jane
Wilson, 56,” replied Jay. The lady nodded in response and instructed “Good,
this way, Jane.” In my foggy haze, I just sat there with a vacant expression on
my face. Jay impelled me to follow her by lifting me to my feet by my upper arm
and giving me a small shove in the back. I trailed behind the lady, feeling
surprised by the strength of Jay.
I was directed to sit in a reclining chair that reminded me more of something
you would find at a dental surgery rather than a beauty parlour. The lady then
placed several documents on the steel tray attached to the arm of the chair via
a swivel mechanism. “Have a read of these documents and if you are happy to go
ahead with the treatments then sign and date. I’ll give you some time to peruse
them.” She instructed me. As I tried my hardest to focus and read, Jay
positioned herself behind me. “They are just simple disclaimers explaining that
if you don’t like the work they do, you won’t take them to court. I used to
sign them all the time at high-end beauty salons, it’s typical because their
customers are normally rich and will take them to court over even a bad
hairstyle, but don’t worry, if you don’t like your new look, Robert will pay
for any changes.” She assured me. With the reassurance coupled with the fact
that I could hardly even make sense of the text, I signed and dated each page.
After the documents were taken away by another member of staff, the masked lady
began to recline the chair and asked me to relax. The masked lady returned and
began to inform me about what was going to happen “Now, some of the procedures
such as hair removal and ear-piercing are found painful by most of our clients.
As they are predominantly wealthy, they nearly always opt for a general
anaesthetic, rather than local. Your procedure has been fully funded by your
husband, so which would you prefer?” she enquired. Before I even got a chance
to begin the thinking process, Jay quickly interrupted “Oh trust me, it’s much
better to go for the general anaesthetic – you fall asleep and wake up looking
great without any pain!” she enthused. It sounded appealing to me as I’ve
always been pain averse. At no point, did I think to question why beauty
treatments would be so painful so I just agreed, believing Jay and the lady had
my best interests at heart.
A breathing mask was placed over my mouth and nose before the lady in the mask
instructed me to “count slowly down from 10.”
I obediently followed the order, free of any anxiety or concern “10, 9, 8, 7…
6…..5….. 4……………”
“She’s awake!”
Slowly, my heavy eyelids began to open, exposing me to the brightest light I
have ever encountered in my life. Well, that’s what it felt like. My whole body
ached and I could hardly move, due to what felt like severe fatigue. This felt
similar to the last time I caught the flu – I even had an incredibly sore
throat. “Am I sick in hospital?” I thought to myself. A shadowy figure appeared
above me, providing some temporary relief from the dazzling light by blocking
it from my vision.
A mature, well-spoken female voice greeted me “Mrs Wilson, I’m so glad to see
you are awake,”. Just hearing the name Mrs Wilson brought back a flood of
memories, leading all the way up to the moment when Jay had taken me to the
salon for beauty treatments. My current predicament and the memories were now
adding up to make a realistic explanation of the situation.
The blurred figure continued “You’ve been out for a few days now but I am happy
to inform you that the procedures so far have been a complete success. Now,
please do not try to talk at the moment as it will cause you pain. I’m sure you
have a very tender throat so I will have a nurse come along shortly to give you
a drink of iced water, which will bring comfort and relief.” Now confusion
began to arise once again, this time bringing it’s best friend anxiety along
for the ride. “Why would my throat hurt from a simple hair removal treatment?”
my mind flustered! The fear in my eyes and, now, my attempts to move must have
caused some concern to the lady standing above me.
“Calm down please, Mrs Wilson. Let me finish explaining the situation and the
next steps without this unnecessary panic, otherwise I will have to sedate you
for your own safety.” The lady explained in her unfazed, monotonous voice. This
brought my breathing under control and I tried to relax my body. “That’s
better.” She reacted.
“We are going to keep you awake for a little longer before we put you under
anaesthetic one again to carry out the remaining procedures. I wanted to tell
you that once the final surgeries have taken place, you will be kept here for
another week, before you can return home. Now, If you feel up to having
visitors, I am happy to allow that. There is somebody in the waiting room, just
simply nod if you would like to see them.” She explained. I nodded in the hope
that this would bring about some clarity. The lady pressed a buzzer on the wall
and gave instruction, “Please show Mrs Wilson’s guest to her room and bring a
beaker of iced water with a straw.”
I heard the door open and slowly close and was left alone with the deafening
silence for what felt like an eternity. Eventually, the door re-opened and I
could hear chatter from outside the room for a short period before it clicked
closed once again. Next, I heard footsteps moving around the bed before coming
to a halt. It’s amazing how quickly we become especially attuned to one sense
when the other are doing us no favours in monitoring our environment. Then an
all-to-familiar voice met my ears, “Hello Jane.”
Jay stepped forward and lifted a cup towards my face, the straw gently brushing
my lips. “Take a drink, it will make you feel better,” she suggested.
Instinctively, I purchased my lips around the straw and drank greedily, the
ice-cold fluid bringing instant relief to both my throat pain and thirst. When
I stopped drinking, I heard her place the cup on a surface nearby.
“Jane, I’m sure there are a lot of questions on your mind, but it wouldn’t be a
good idea to talk right now, trust me. So please let me explain everything to
put your mind at ease,” Jay began. I nodded, giving her the approval to
continue. “Firstly, let me tell you what procedures have taken place, you’ve
had: full-body hair removal, facial feminisation surgery, a tracheal shave and
a glottoplasty. The tracheal shave reduces the size of your Adam’s apple – I
know yours wasn’t a large one but it was worth doing while they carried out the
glottoplasty. Oh, a glottoplasty is where they shorten your vocal chords to
give you a higher pitched voice.”
The anxiety had set back in once again but this time I was feeling rage from
the manipulation I had experienced. Jay could obviously sense this but
continued completely nonchalant. “Oh, don’t give me this righteous victim
anger, Mrs, you agreed to everything! You signed the papers agreeing to all
this work – and more! You, on so many occasions, agreed to be the new Jane. So
spare me any anger or tears. Besides, I know you oh so well now. I know your
character. You are indecisive, passive, weak! And I’m not saying they are bad
things, in fact, they are wonderful traits for an archetypical housewife. I’m
merely guiding you to your true calling, to the life you should have had from
birth.”
Jay’s words had a ring of truth to them. It was hard to argue with any of what
she said. Her words reminded me of the days, and there were many of them, when
I would question whether transitioning would be the right thing to do. I never
followed up on this as I was too much of a coward.
My body calmed somewhat, which Jane took as a signal to continue. “I never misled
you at any point, Jane. I have always been truthful. Well, I did say this was a
salon, but that wasn’t the whole truth. This salon is attached to a medical
facility; a private healthcare facility – Robert’s private health care facility
to be exact. Over the next few days you will be sedated once again to complete
your transformation. Robert’s company are specialists in transplants. It was at
my behest, that they invested heavily in this field and become the leaders in
this area.”
“I suppose this is the point when I tell you my backstory and explain why…” Jay
went on.
“As I told you, I never wanted to be married. Truth be told, I never wanted to
be female, but I was born in a generation where people didn’t transition, it
wasn’t even a thing back then. My family offered my hand in marriage to Robert
as he came from good stock and, most importantly, money. I had no say in my own
life. But what could I do? Back then, you stoically accepted your lot and got
on with it. For decades, I lived a lie and played the perfect housewife and
mother. I dressed to impress and was a perfect trophy on Robert’s arm whenever
required. I would lay on the bed and open my legs or mouth to please him on
demand. I bore raised three wonderful children, who haven’t got a clue about
how I suffered! Imagine breast-feeding a child when you can’t stand the sight
of your own tits! These emotions were bottled up for decades, until one night I
almost ended my own life by taking an overdose. Luckily, Robert found me just
in time to rush me to hospital.”
Jay sat in the chair next to my bed and continued.
“Following my failed suicide attempt, I had to come clean to Robert and explain
everything. We agreed to stay together for the sake of the children. Robert
accepted that we would no longer have sex or any romantic interactions for that
matter – I wasn’t capable of pretending to be something, I knew at my core,
that I wasn’t. We agreed that as soon as our youngest had fled the nest, we
would part ways. Whenever the children weren’t around, he would address me as
Jay, to help with my dysphoria. However, Robert and I had built up something
over the years outside of the façade of husband and wife. We had a strong bond
that would never be broken and because of that, I saw his struggle with the situation,
his pain seemed unbearable. He told me that he still loved me deeply, and to
lose me as his wife, figuratively, was akin to the literal death of a loved
one.”
Jay reached out and took hold of my hand before resuming her explanation.
“I asked him if it would help if I could find him another wife, but he said
that nobody could compare to me. It was around that time, I logged onto our
swinging profile – swinging was something Robert enjoyed but I loathed but I
had to take part in whatever pleased my husband. The only thing I enjoyed about
that site was the forum, which was where I found your post. It was then that it
clicked and came together: a young man, who desperately wanted to play the role
of an older housewife; a lonely husband despairing for his lost wife and an
older woman on the brink of suicide due to her gender dysphoria. It all tied so
perfectly together, especially with Robert’s field of work. So one day I asked
Robert if he would be happy if I could find him a perfect replica of myself,
but one who truly loved being his wife. He accepted in theory that it would be
wonderful but he doubted whether it would ever work.”
Jay lifted herself to her feet once again and began pacing the room slowly.
“That brings us back to the present moment. Your face has been altered to look
just like mine and your voice, with a little work, will be soon just like mine.
There is still one little problem though – downstairs. Robert didn’t mind
fucking you that once but, penises really aren’t his thing. Luckily, for
Robert, you and I, this company are in the advanced stages of completing
gender-affirming transplants between two willing donors. It has been in the
development phase for many years but now they are ready for their first test
subjects. They are more than capable of carrying out a full swap of the womb,
vagina, penis and testes. Even more remarkable is the fact that they have
developed drugs that not only stop transplants from being rejected but also
eliminate the need for donors to have the same blood type. Isn’t that just
wonderful, Jane?”
I just lay there completely flabbergasted, unable to even reply. This was
moving at a rate my mind was unable to keep up with.
Jay resumed her monologue.
“When you wake up from your next round of surgeries, you will have a
fully-functional womb and vagina and I will have my very own penis and
testicles. The next time you see me, I will have also had facial surgery, vocal
surgery and a mastectomy and will be a perfect copy of the old you. I’ll give
you some time to savour what I’ve just told you as I’m sure you are over the
moon. After all, you did agree to all of this. Don’t get too excited though as
the nurses are under instruction to sedate you whenever they feel you are at
risk of injuring yourself. Our next meeting as Jane and Mark is going to be
something else!”
And at that moment Jay left the room so that I was alone with nobody but my
thoughts.
I’m running through the snow as fast as I can, but it feels
like I’m moving through treacle. Each step is heavy and laboured, my heart
pounds and the icy air freezes my throat. The longer this goes on for, the more
difficult it gets. I know it’s behind me and I know if I turn round and look it
in the eye, it’s all over. Here I am, stuck in a perilous situation, where it’s
getting harder and harder to run but I don’t want to acknowledge whatever it is
behind me: a beast or monster or something equally horrid. The temperature
drops to an unbearable level and causes the snow to freeze around my ankles. I
was completely stuck. I wait there for an eternity as day turns into night and
night into day, waiting as my slow demise becomes apparent. Then I remember the
fearsome creature that I had been trying to escape. I knew it was still there.
I’m going to freeze to death so I may as well look at whatever had been hunting
me. At best, maybe it will rip out my throat and let me die quickly? I turned
slowly and, to my surprise, saw an old woman – a crone maybe? – she was
accompanied by a swan. No not a crone, she looked like an elderly African
woman, with deep wrinkles in her skin and short, grey afro hair. Her eyes were
closed but she had a glow that radiated inner peace, just her presence put me
at ease. Her hands were touching at the fingertips. She began to move each
finger apart from its opposite, except for the thumbs and little fingers. A
glow shone from between her hands and a small butterfly emerged. I had never
felt such peace.
“Jane.” A soft voice called my name.
A warm glow embraced my face, slowly drawing me from my slumber. There remained
some pain in various parts of my body, but it seemed insignificant.
“Jane.” The voice called one again with equal tenderness.
I gently turned my head to face in the direction of the voice and saw a young
nurse with long, blonde hair tied in a bun.
“Good morning, Jane, I saw you stirring. It’s lovely to see you awake after
being out for such a long period. I’m Hannah and it’s lovely to meet you. You
should be fine talking now, but your voice may be scratchy.” The young lady
softly encouraged me.
“Hi Hannah.” I replied in a crackly but notably higher-pitched voice, while
breaking out into a smile.
“Jane, you’re so brave to volunteer to be the first person to go through with
this pioneering surgery. I just wanted to say well done! It’s been successful
but the Doctor will tell you more later. Just think, your brave decision could
change the lives of transgender people across the world in the future!” Hannah
praised me.
If only she knew, I didn’t really make this decision at all. I knew, now, deep
down that I had been manipulated and tricked by a very clever and cunning
woman, who most likely was no longer female. The strange thing was, even though
logically I knew this was the case, my body was awash with feelings of peace
and acceptance, and I didn’t want to fight them.
“Thank you, dear, I appreciate the kind words and how you have looked after
me.” I whispered back huskily.
“Mr Wilson, I mean your husband is waiting outside. Would you like me to send
him in?” Hannah chirped excitedly as she made her way out of the room.
I nodded and beamed in response, “Yes, that would be nice.”
It wasn’t long until Robert entered, looking as tall and handsome as the last
time I saw him. He was incredibly well presented, and most of all, he looked
genuinely pleased to see me.
“Jane, my love, I’m so happy everything went to plan and you are well. In fact,
you look more than well, you look more beautiful than I remember. Would you
like to see, how good you look?” He asked in his deep, rich, baritone voice.
I nodded and smiled once again.
He grabbed a hand-held mirror and lifted it to my face. The results were
amazing! The changes were subtle enough – a smaller jaw, chin and nose, plus
some work to make my eyelids more westernised but I now looked like Jane if she
had botox and cosmetic surgery.
“The Doctor told me you can return home tonight to recover. Would you like
that, my love?” He asked gleefully.
“I sure would, handsome,” I responded positively “But what about Jay?”
“We won’t be seeing Jay for a while, or Mark as he now likes to be called. He
has agreed to give us the time and space we need so he will be moving into your
old flat for a while. He, like you needs time to adapt to his new life.” Robert
explained.
I knew that this was how it was meant to be. How it had to be. I was ready to
accept my life as Mrs Wilson and return home with my husband to our beautiful
home and offer him the genuine love and affection that he deserved, after
living a life built on a foundation of lies. He deserved this. We deserved
this.
His powerful, muscular body pressed my voluptuous curves
into the mattress. In perfect rhythm, he thrust his vast, rock-hard cock in and
out of my glistening pussy. He’d started slowly, entering me with only a
portion of his dick repeatedly, the huge, bulbous head producing the most
pleasure. Gradually, he increased the depth and power of this assaults on my
delicate flower. “Oh Robert!” I cried as my French-manicured nails dug into his
back, encouraging him to fuck me harder and faster. Looking down, seeing my
weighty tits, with large erect nipples, jiggle with each thrust turned me on
immeasurably. I absolutely adore being a woman and I wouldn’t change it for the
world! “I love you, Robert!” I shriek from the bottom of my heart. “And, I love
you, Jane,” he responds before lowering his head to engage in some intense,
passionate French kissing. I can feel the pressure building and know he is
reaching his climax. This is my favourite part of sex! I love to see my husband
satisfied and I really love to feel his seed gushing inside me. I feel my
husband’s body tense as he shoots stream after stream of cum inside of me –
he’s such a heavy cummer! He collapses on top of me as we continue kissing in a
warm, sweaty embrace.
It’s been a year since my life was turned upside down. A year since Jane had
entered my life and manipulated me into literally trading places with her. She
used drugs to make me suggestable and slowly but surely dragged me into
becoming her. She even misled me into surgical procedures which involved a
transplant of my reproductive organs into her and hers into me. She told me she
did it for my benefit, but I seriously doubt that. Believing she was helping me
was the only way she could justify what she did. This would be considered a
horror story by any sane person with any semblance of empathy, but you know
what? I’m so happy she did it! My life has never been happier and more
fulfilled. I love being a housewife and mother to three wonderful, adult
children. I love not having the anxieties of a day job, bills and making
decisions. I love tending to my husband’s needs and truly get a kick out of
pleasing him in every way!
After I had left the medical facility, Robert had cared for me at home, during
my recovery. As such a thorough and efficient man, he had taken care of all the
necessary admin, with some help from the new Mark. Our documents had all been
exchanged, our phones and passwords swapped and medication taken care of.
Robert had ensured that the new Mark received a lump sum to make his new life
as easy as possible, which I was not averse to. I would have not wished my
dead-end job and joyless life on my worst enemy!
I was to continue taking HRT, which the old Jane was already taking due to her
being menopausal. My oestrogen levels were regularly tested by my doctor and
the medication adjusted accordingly. Over time, the effects became apparent: my
hips widened slightly, my hair regrowth slowed (also helped be regular laser
hair removal), my skin softened, my breasts grew slightly larger, areola and
nipple size increased and there was even some lactation. I had now fully grown
out the hair on my head so I could throw away the wigs. The strange thing was,
after a couple of months, I experienced severe abdominal cramps, followed by
spotting of blood in my panties. Robert quickly whisked me away to a
specialist, who, upon a series of tests and examinations, determined that,
unexpectedly, ovulation had resumed in my body and I was not menopausal. He
explained that it was shocking and currently unexplainable, but I was in a very
unique situation. Robert and I had talked long and hard about my unforeseen
fertility and he was happy to accommodate my desire to have a child. We have
been trying to get pregnant ever since.
It’s been so hectic, getting to know my new life but not as difficult as I had
imagined. As it wasn’t long since the old Jane had her breakdown and suicide
attempt, many of my friends have just assumed that I had emerged from a deep
depression, like a phoenix rising from the flames, and was well on the road to
recovery. Many even commented on how much more they enjoy my company than ever
before. I’m apparently, understandably, much more into girly things than the
old Jane and they all adore my company. Even my children have expressed how
much they feel our relationship has improved. My eldest daughter, Joanne, loves
to spend Friday evenings with me, drinking wine and chatting for hours on end.
My youngest, Sarah, loves “mummy and daughter shopping trips”, I hope it’s not
just because she gets free outfits paid for by the bank of Mum & Dad! My
middle-child, Brandon, lives in Europe, managing a successful business so I’ve
not had time to get to know him, yet, but we have had a few pleasant phone
calls and he just seems happy that I’m not longer depressed.
Despite the fact that the love between myself and Robert burns brightly, and
our sex life is wonderful, I have to accept that he is indeed a highly-sexed
man with an adventurous side. As I already knew, Jane and Robert had been
swingers for years and it was something that Robert thoroughly enjoyed. He not
only enjoys other women, but he would like to see me with other men and
possibly women too. Robert had suggested that maybe we could try meeting
another couple from the swinging website. It took some contemplation, but,
eventually, I came to see how a loving couple could enjoy the swinging
lifestyle whilst maintaining a healthy love.
We had arranged to meet a couple in their early 40s at our place, tonight. Robert
had shown me their profile and I liked what I saw. The male – Greg – was 41
years old, 6’4”, well-built and hung, Caucasian with brown hair. His wife –
Sandra – was 40 years old, 5’6”, very curvy with 40 DD boobs and a large bum.
She was mixed-race and had gorgeous loose afro curls and coffee coloured skin.
Like Robert, Greg was a dominant man and like me, Sandra was a submissive
woman. I was incredibly nervous when the doorbell rang. I opened the door and
greeted the couple, wearing a little black dress that barely reached my thighs,
never mind covered my stocking tops and a pair of 4” heels. My boobs were
spilling out of the low-cut dress, and I loved Greg’s reaction when he saw me.
I think he went from soft to hard in less than 3 seconds! Sandra looked equally
divine in a figure-hugging red dress and heels.
Once we had gotten to know each other over a couple of bottles of red wine, in
front of the roaring fire, Robert suggested it was time to become more
familiar. “I think it’s time you girls got to know each other more intimately,”
He winked. Sandra didn’t need any encouragement as she moved towards me
eagerly. We began to kiss softly, like only two of the most feminine creatures
could. Our fingertips gently teasing and stroking the areas of exposed skin. I
could already feel myself getting wet. It wasn’t long before we were both there
kissing passionately, suckling on the nipples of our huge, exposed boobs. We
were completely engrossed in each other. So engrossed that we hadn’t even
noticed that both men stood beside us, wanking their impressive cocks. Sandra
nudged me and drew my attention to what awaited us.
In synchronicity, we both dropped to our knees before our husbands, hungrily
grabbing their massive tools. I knew how Robert liked to be treated so I began
to wank him, pulling his foreskin back and forth. I loved how it made his huge,
heavy balls sway. I lifted them and took one in my mouth, knowing it drives him
crazy. I sucked his cock like it was the last time I would ever see one, doing a
better job than I know the old Jane could have ever managed.
After a while, Greg made a suggestion, “Would you mind if the ladies swapped
places, Robert?”. Robert grinned and replied, “Of course not!” Sandra and I
positioned ourselves in front of the other’s husband and continued to please
them. I ravenously began bobbing up and down on Greg’s big cock, sucking,
spluttering, and moaning. “Mmmmm, she’s a greedy girl, Robert!” he enthused.
“Oh yes, just the way I like ‘em,” Robert laughed. I licked up and down his
lengthy shaft, paying close attention to the spot at the base of the head,
which made Greg wriggle in ecstasy. It wasn’t long until he couldn’t take any
more. “You need to stop before I cum, sexy!” he alerted me. Robert laughed and
then gave instruction, “I want the two of you, on your knees, waiting for us on
the bed!”. We didn’t need to be told twice.
As Sandra and I waited for the men to put on their protection, we occasionally
kissed and touched each other’s breasts, giggling like two minxes, who loved
nothing more than being desired by our men. Then, suddenly, I felt two warm
hands placed on my ample rear, before feeling something large and hard sliding
into my soaking, wanting pussy. He started hard and fast, like a wild animal,
unable to contain its sexual yearning. It felt great and was perfect in this
scenario where four individuals gave in to their raw, carnal lust. Soon I hear
Sandra moan, “Oh yes, Greg, fuck that bitch hard!”. I hadn’t realised it was
Greg inside me and Robert inside Sandra. This made the hard and fast fuck even
better as I knew this wasn’t love making now, it was just for pleasure. I knew
Greg wouldn’t be able to last long at this pace, it wouldn’t be like the long,
drawn-out love-making sessions that I have with Robert. Abruptly, I felt Greg’s
body begin to tense, before he called out, “I’m cumming!”. This was clearly
driving Sandra wild! She screamed, “Yes honey, fill her belly with your seed!”,
and he obliged. The feel of him cumming was lovely, although not as nice as it
feels without a condom.
Not long after, Robert pulled out of Sandra and beckoned for us both to kneel
before him, at the same time as removing his condom. Like two obedient sluts,
we waited. I licked his balls while Sandra wanked his cock. Then, Robert
grabbed hold of his tool and, with after a few more strokes, began spraying
both of us with vast amounts of his hot cum. Robert always shoots in a large
amount and a considerable distance when he’s very turned on, and this was one
of those times. He coated both of us in his hot sticky fluid as we knelt there
with our mouths wide open. When he was empty, Sandra and I kissed, stroked and
groped for a while, loving the feeling of the sticky cum on our bodies.
At the end of a most enjoyable session and cleaning ourselves up, it was time
for our new friends to leave. Before they did, Greg handed Robert a card, a
business card, I assume. We said our goodbyes and headed to bed where Robert
and I slept soundly, looking like a typical, innocent, middle-aged couple.
I stumbled out of the taxi, almost breaking my ankles as I
placed my heeled feet onto the gravel driveway, before teetering towards the
front door. I searched through my handbag, trying to find my keys but Robert
must have heard me. He opened the door and noticed my obvious drunken state
straight away.
“Did you have a good night out with the girls?” he asked with a sly grin
displayed across his face. He reached out and helped me into the house.
“Yes, Jacqui and Andrea, asked me to say hello.” I replied, trying to disguise
my intoxication levels by speaking as coherently as currently possible, but
failing miserably.
Robert helped me remove my heels and then assisted me upstairs. He knows I’m
extra frisky when I’ve had a few drinks but little did he know, my lust levels
were through the roof tonight, after spending most of the evening flirting with
younger men. Andrea, Jacqui and I love to play the role of cougars on our night
out, but we always make sure we keep the others in check and not allow it to go
too far.
Once we are upstairs, I flop on the bed as Robert lays next to me. We enjoy a
little kissing and fondling before he stops and develops a serious look,
causing me to pout. “Aaaw, I was just getting into that,” I sob, hoping my
puppy-dog eyes will get him back in the mood.
“Jane, I’ve been thinking about that night we spend with Greg and Sandra,” he
uttered in a more playful voice than his face had expressed.
“Oooh, has that got you all hot, Robert? Was it the image of spraying your hot
cum all over two sexy, curvy women?” I teased, hoping this would make him hurry
up and get back to the action.
“Oh yes dear, that was amazing! But what I wanted to ask was, well, how would
you feel about taking it a little further?” Robert inquired with a little
trepidation in his voice, which was highly unusual for such a confident,
authoritative alpha-male.
“How far are we talking?” I asked. He had me intrigued now.
“Well, when Greg and Sandra were leaving, Greg handed me a card for a local
swingers club. He’d spoken to me earlier in the night about it. All kinds of
people go there and there’s no pressure. Some just gather there for social
meets and others like to take it further. I thought we could take a visit and
you know, no pressure…” He rambled. It was kind of cute to see him getting
nervous, it was a new experience!
“Greg,” I interrupted him, “I’d love to go with you.” I replied with some
enthusiasm, making him smile in relief. “Now get over here and fuck me! Mummy
wants a baby in her tummy!” I commanded. He didn’t need telling twice!
It had now been well over a year since I had swapped reproductive organs and
lives with a middle-aged housewife - something that would traumatise most
people for life. Strangely, I had taken to living as Jane like a duck to water.
The longer I lived as her, the easier and more natural it became. I was a
wonderful wife, who loved her husband and pleased him in the bedroom. I was a
great, supportive mother to my three brilliant children (I saw them very much
as mine now) and I was a great friend! All my girlfriends adored having me
around as a shoulder to cry on or as a partner-in-crime on nights out. It was
as if I had always been Jane. Rarely did I think about my life as Mark, and
when I did, it felt like I’d never even been that person at all. I must admit,
I did, on rare occasions, wonder how the new Mark was getting along, but, from
the start, Robert had insisted that he would be the one who communicated with
him, to make my transition to Jane as easy and smooth as possible. It’s almost
impossible to believe that 18 months ago, I was a depressed 35 year old man and
tonight I’m a 57 year old sex kitten getting ready to go to a swingers club
with her husband!
There were no plans as to what we would get up to tonight – it could be as
simple as some nice chats and a few drinks – but I hadn’t ruled out any wild
debauchery! I was feeling very naughty so I opted for a sexy but classy lacy
shaper teddy, that showed off some curves and created others. The garter,
stockings and heels were obviously a must! Then, in traditional fashion, the
entire outfit was concealed by a long wrap-around coat. Robert was wearing a
casual shirt, trousers and shoes combo, but who cares about that?
We pulled into the club car park around 10pm as we didn’t want to be too late
but we also didn’t want to be waiting around awkwardly in an empty club.
However, most of all, I’m an attention whore and I wanted as many eyes on me
when I walked into the building and revealed my outfit. We paid the entrance fee
and entered the main room through a set of double doors and found, inside, a
large dimly lit room full of all kinds of people dressed sexily. This was
definitely our kind of place. We located Sandra and Greg by the bar and had a
brief chat before exploring the venue. There was a room with a swimming pool
and jacuzzi, a number of rooms with beds and even a dungeon but we decided on
heading to one of the quieter side rooms to begin with, where I made friends
with a couple of ladies around my age and Robert chatted with their husbands.
After some time, I looked around and realised that Robert must have wandered
off because he and the other men were no longer there. He returned around 5
minutes later with a glint in his eyes. “Are you up for some fun, Jane?” he
asked mischievously.
“Possibly,” I replied, feeling slight unease.
“There’s a bit of a game going on in the other room, come and have a look to
see if you want to take part,” Robert continued.
He eagerly grabbed me by the wrist and dragged me along with pure excitement to
the room just down the corridor. Inside, there were a number of women wearing
blindfolds sitting in chairs in the middle of the room, and to the side there
was a large black velvet curtain that had divided the space. Robert explained
to me that the females sit and wait in the centre for the men to, one at a
time, emerge from behind the curtain and pick a lady to take away with the. The
only rules were that:
1. All participants must have a partner.
2. The lady can say stop at any time.
3. The man decides when and if the blindfold can be removed.
“So, what do you think?” Robert enthusiastically asked.
Normally, this would have been out of my comfort zone as I like to choose who I
get intimate with, but the drink and the occasion got the better of me. I
replied “Sure, honey,” and swiftly he pulled me to the centre of the room,
placed me in the chair and made his way towards the curtained area. Shortly
after, I was handed a mask, which I nervously placed over my eyes.
The suspense was intense as I sat there waiting. Who would pick me? I wonder if
Robert would be the one to select me or maybe Greg was behind the curtain? Or
would it be a young stallion? You may have guessed that recently I have
developed a taste for younger men. Being an older woman but knowing you’re
still attractive enough to turn a young man’s head, despite all the young women
available, is a massive turn on for me. It felt like an age, but it was
probably around 3 minutes before I felt a hand take mine and lead me out of the
room.
All I could hear was the click, click of my heels as we walked down the
corridor. I could feel the cold on my exposed bum, which was swaying as we
headed off to god knows where. Next, I heard a door handle being turned
followed by the door opening and a light switch being clicked on. He placed his
hand on the small of my back to usher me into the room and sit me on a bed. I
waited for him to introduce himself, but he never uttered a word. The next
thing I felt was him freeing my tits from their constraints and taking one
nipple into his mouth as his hand fondled the other breast. It felt so good,
even though he was a little rough – possibly inexperienced?
The attention he paid to my breasts went on for some time before he stood up. I
could hear him unbuckle his belt and unzip his trousers, the belt buckle
clinking on the floor as his pants hit the ground. I then felt his cock brush
against my full lips and needed no encouragement to show off my sucking skills.
I took the dick into my manicured hand and freed the head by pulling the
foreskin back. He wasn’t anywhere near as large as Robert – maybe 6 inches –
but the excitement of the situation was enough for me anyway. I started teasing
the already rock-hard head with my tongue before taking him into my mouth,
getting him as sloppy and wet as possible, as the fingers on my other hand
teased his balls. This combination was enough to get a deep moan out of him.
“Well done, Jane!” I thought to myself.
I could tell he was eager to fuck me as he pulled away shortly after and lay me
on my back.
“Please wear protection.” I instructed.
I heard him tear open a packet as he knelt on the bed. Next he placing my
stockinged legs over his strong shoulders. I wanted to make sure he was wearing
a condom so, in the pretence of helping him, I grabbed his cock and placed it
at the entrance to my pussy. He slid in easily to my damp hole and began
fucking straight away at an rapid pace. I had the feeling he was a younger man
due to his eagerness, but that was also an extra turn-on for me. He was getting
a little rough now, slapping my tits as he fucked me, and tongue kissing me
with great intensity! I knew he wouldn’t be able to keep it up, but it was hot
being used like this in contrast to the tender but powerful love-making between
Robert and I. This felt more animalistic.
A couple of minutes later he guided me into doggy position and resumed fucking
me hard, his strong thighs thumping into my ample arse, causing a slapping
noise each time. At one point he even asked me to twerk my arse on his pole,
which normally would be demeaning for a lady of my advanced years, but now was,
to bluntly put it, fucking hot!
He was really getting into this and had even become vocal now, calling me a
“dirty bitch” every so often and smacking my jiggling arse cheeks. Then,
shockingly he called out “Oh you dirty slut, Jane!”.
“How do you know my name?” I responded, confused and worried, almost ready to
tell him to stop but not wanting this pleasure to end.
The next thing I knew, my mask was removed. In front of the bed was a
full-length mirror which displayed a man fucking a woman doggystyle. My eyes
hadn’t quite adjusted to the light in the room, but I could make out that he
was a fairly well built, short man with black hair - he was certainly younger
than me. Then it clicked, I recognised that face. It used to belong to me!
“Mark?!” I cried out in utter dismay.
“Oh fucking yes it is, Jane,” he laughed wickedly, as he increased the pace.
Despite the shock of the situation, and the fact that I know I should be
repulsed, I was even more turned on. I involuntarily tighten myself around his
cock to gain the maximum level of enjoyment from my predicament. Logically, I
should be screaming stop right now, but I want more. I start to moan loudly
because the intensity is almost bringing me to tears.
“You’re loving this, aren’t you? You’re as depraved as me, getting a kick out
of fucking your old body, you absolute slut!” Mark gleefully tormented me,
before he tensed and pushed himself inside me as deep as he could manage before
exploding inside me with a thunderous groan of pleasure.
“Why, I don’t understand?” were the words that I could
muster as Mark removed his now flaccid cock from inside me. Turning around to
face him, instantly, I was amazed at how much weight he had managed to lose
from that body, considering how curvy it once was. What was also apparent, was
that he had obviously undergone several surgical procedures. Where there were
once glorious, bouncy breasts were now powerful pectoral muscles and small,
masculine nipples above a toned abdominal area, which had replaced a previously
soft belly. Most astounding, was the facial transformation – a previously
feminine face, which was pretty but showing the signs of aging with sagging and
wrinkles, was replaced with a much younger looking face, featuring a chiselled,
bearded, manly jawline. I must say, there was no way anybody could have guessed
he was previously female, never mind a plus-size, mature woman.
“Because it was fucking hot! Don’t pretend you didn’t like it, you dirty old
bitch,” he replied belligerently, interrupting my musing, as he reached around
to grab my arse and give it a squeeze with both hands. He then began to get
dressed, carefree, as if this whole bizarre ordeal was a non-event.
I continued to quiz him, feeling completely perplexed as I pulled a blanket to
cover my exposed body. “But how did you even know we would be here?”
Mark responded with a chuckle, as he reclined back in a chair with his shirt unbuttoned,
looking like the cat who got the cream, “Now, that is funny. I’ve been coming
to this club for a while. I had spent six long months working my arse off –
literally - getting this body into shape, and I wanted to reap the rewards from
now having a nice physique. I’ve fucked my way through half the members here
and I had a regular arrangement with one couple – Greg and Sandra – I believe
you’ve met them.” I nodded and waited for him to continue revealing the extent
of his recent sexual exploits.
“You won’t believe how excited I got when Greg revealed the breath-taking time
he and Sandra had with an older couple named Robert and Jane. I got especially
interested when he mentioned he had invited you to the club, so I made sure I
was here to welcome you. I watched you eagerly tonight and when I spotted you
being led by Robert towards the ‘grab-a-wife’ game, I knew that was going to be
my opportunity to strike and claim you as my conquest.” Mark boasted, with an
air of arrogance that was both sickening and alluring at the same time. Now I
could relate to the many women seem to be attracted to bad boys.
Feeling violated and ashamed, I crossed my arms, crushing my breasts against my
body. “Well, are you happy now then? You got what you wanted and now you can
tick it off your sexual bucket list or whatever.” I snapped at the conceited,
smug man opposite. He was everything that I wasn’t as a man, and I don’t know
if that is good or bad.
“Well, I have to say, there was something incredibly horny about having sex
with the person I used to be. Sliding into the pussy that used to be mine,
using the cock that used to be yours. But I do have to admit, I do prefer
younger girls, closer to my own age, however I would still be open to giving
you a good pounding again, if you’re older husband can’t satisfy your needs,”
Mark answered in typical form, taking great pleasure in taunting me, as he
buttoned up his shirt.
My shame had now transformed into fury due to the sheer entitlement this
overconfident individual exuded as he stood before me gloating. I seethed, “You
can’t help but lie, deceive, cheat, and steal to get your own way, can you?
Yet, no matter how low you sink, you never seem to develop any kind of faculty
for self-reflection or empathy! I should tell Robert about what you have done.”
Expectedly, Mark was numb to my barbed observations, which generated nothing
more than a shrug. “Tell him if you want – it’s no skin off my nose.” He
nonchalantly replied as he sprang to his feet.
There was no grand exit, not even any expression of emotion as Mark left the
room. An indifferent “See you later, Jane,” was evidently all he felt I
deserved, despite the history we had shared and the experience to which I had
just been subjected.
============================================================================
Many months had now passed since my last encounter with Mark, and that
experience had completely put me off swinging for good. I never confided in
Robert about what had unfolded that evening, partly because I knew it would
hurt him deeply but also because I just wanted to erase it from my mind.
However, he knew something bad had happened but was kind enough not to pressure
me into disclosing the events and accepted my decision to stop swinging
altogether. The experience had created a stronger, more intense appreciation of
the bond I shared with Robert, and the only kind of sex I was interested in was
the loving kind with my husband, when pleasure was intertwined with the feeling
of affection, trust and deep connection.
With swinging now out of the picture, we were able to devote our attention to
the more meaningful aspects of life. We enjoyed many trips away to new
destinations in addition to visiting our children. We also continued with our
attempts to conceive a child, investing large amounts into IVF treatments and
tests along the way. I tried so hard not to get too attached to the idea of
becoming pregnant, but I couldn’t help the maternal desires that persisted
within me. I was a pessimist by nature, and the nagging voice in my mind that
told me it would never happen – but even good things happen to pessimists, they
just don’t acknowledge them!
It was on the first day of Spring, a day when warmth had begun to penetrate the
previously chilly air and the daffodils started to emerge everywhere you
looked, when I was expecting my normally reliable period to commence. It never
came. I tried not to get too excited but, two days later, when it still hadn’t
begun, I decided to try a pregnancy test. Positive! Both Robert and I were
ecstatic, and we began to make plans and arrangements for the arrival of our
fourth child. The nagging voice that once told me I would never get pregnant
now tried to convince me that I was going to miscarry. The months passed and at
every step I made sure I rigorously followed the advice of the doctors as well
as the staff at the antenatal classes. Thankfully, Robert made sure I got the
best care money could buy. We attended regular scans, and, each time, we were
given the same news – the baby was healthy! We decided that we didn’t want the
gender of the child revealed to us and we would wait until the birth. I was now
starting to believe that this dream of mine was going to become a reality.
The months passed and the due date grew closer. I was now 7 months into this
pregnancy and my baby bump had ballooned to a size that was now impossible to
conceal from friends and family. I was at home, alone, trying to find a
comfortable position in a chair to bring some relief to my lower back pain when
I heard the clatter of the letterbox. Struggling to get to my feet, I slowly
removed myself from my seat, using the wall to assist me. Tentatively, I made
my way towards the front door, one hand massaging my belly and the other
occasionally pressing against the wall to support me. I just about managed to
grab the letter from the door mat and take it to the kitchen.
I leaned against the kitchen island, alleviating some of the pressure from my
feet and lower back, and examined the envelope. Notably, the markings on the
outside showed that this letter had been rerouted several times, sent from
pillar to post, due to the incorrect address and, as a result, it had been
delayed for months! Carefully, I opened the envelope, making sure not to rip
the contents. Upon unfolding the letter, once it was removed, I swiftly
realised it was from a doctor we had hired during our attempts to conceive. The
letter explained that our test results had been returned and, unfortunately,
due to Robert’s exceptionally low sperm count, we had less than a 1% chance of
conceiving a child.
Shock filled my body as I tried to process the information I had just read. How
did we manage to get pregnant? Was this a miracle baby – maybe the gods were
looking down on us and smiling? Then that shock turned to dread. I cast my mind
back to the evening of my steamy encounter with Mark. The dates all matched up,
but I made him wear a condom and I even double-checked he was wearing one. But
this was Mark, the one person I knew who was twisted enough of get a kick out
of this. Would he sink low enough to pierce holes in a condom to impregnate me
for a kick? Yes, yes he would. What a predicament I was trapped in!
I spent the next couple of weeks deliberating what I should do. Do I come clean
and tell Robert and break his heart? That felt like the right thing to do but
the pain and chaos caused wouldn’t be worth it. Should I go to the police and
report this as a crime and finally get some revenge on this sick individual? I
was tempted but over time the anger dispersed and I realized the damage this
action would cause. I concluded that there was only one option I could live
with - one that would protect Robert from misery and deprive Mark of the
satisfaction of knowing he impregnated me. I would keep this secret to myself
and let Robert blissfully enjoy being a father. He was not a young man so god
knows how long he would be in the child’s life. He’s almost certainly not the
father, but I knew that raising a child in the loving embrace of two adoring
parents was the right thing to do. Some secrets are worth keeping for the
greater good and this is one I could live with. This is what a truly loving,
caring, empathetic mother and wife would do, and that is exactly who I am!
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