Chapter 3

I wanted to scream, “Yes!” I wanted to proclaim how I loved sucking random cocks. I wanted to thank her for bringing George home for me to blow in the back yard. But couldn’t with my mouth being filled as it was. So I just nodded vigorously as I had been doing for all her questions.

From that moment on as she alternated from dildo to boob she asked, “Do you like sucking my real nipple?” Then she would switch and ask, “Do you like sucking this fake cock!”

I was getting more and more excited. She would insert four or five inches of the giant cock colored vibe into my mouth and I would suck it with a vengeance. Then she’d stick her lovely nipple in my mouth and I’d try my best not to hurt her. Until finally she was going too fast and in a moment of confusion I suckled hard on her sensitive nipple like I’d been sucking the cock.

“Ouch!” She dropped the big toy, clasping her hands to her breast protectively, “That’s it! No more nipple for you.” She stood up, dressing as she did, and I knew that meant our sexcapade was over for the night.

Unfortunately, I’d heard that before. I apologized profusely. Not only did my apology not cut it, but in a moment of spite she declared, “The only thing you’re ever gonna suck around here is dick.” Then as an impulsive afterthought she added, “Real ones.”

I was overjoyed to finally hear it from her own lips. “Great idea! When do we start?”

With arms crossed and a sour look on her face she answered, “I knew I could turn you with nipple play. But that really hurt, and now I’ve decided that your first time should be a punishment.”

I imagined several delectable punishments she could impose on me: kneeling blindfolded with my hands tied behind my back in the forest preserve, or her forcing my face down on a too large anonymous cock, maybe dressing me in a leather hood in front of a glory hole.

I fell into the master/sub role instantly, “I got carried away. I know I bit it and I’m sorry. Whatever you want. Mistress.”

Leaving the room in a huff she called back, “I’ll think of something.” Sadly, she didn’t even notice that I’d called her mistress.

By the end of the evening she’d come to her senses, realizing it was just an accident. She was her sweet kind self again so I asked, “So? Are they still off limits?”

She was remorseful that she had snapped at me, but claimed that since I couldn’t control myself I just couldn’t have her nipples again no matter how much I wanted them.

Afraid of her reply I just had to ask, “And my punishment?”

She smirked, “Well, that sounds too fun to pass up.”

It didn’t go at all as planned. I rushed things and it could have all gone South. I got lucky that he wants to please me so much. So when I lost my temper I saw my chance to recover and turn my husband into a cocksucker at last. After all these years I was finally going to live out my fantasy. I knew I was going to make it fun somehow too.

By now I’d admitted to being a cocksucker twice and yet she got it into her head that it was she who brought this about. No matter, I was looking forward to some secret BDSM game between a man, his wife, and a stranger with a big dick.

The next day she presented me with a goldfish bowl filled with little strips of paper. “Pick three.”

Laying the little strips out on the table they read, “Your boss.”, “Our neighbor Jim.” and “Your best friend.”

“Your task is to bring one of these men home to suck off here in the house.”

This would be impossible. I didn’t even know if any of them would want that. And I’d be mortified. “You can’t be serious?”

“I said I’d punish you and this was the only way I could think of. A little embarrassment won’t kill you.”

I threw the strips on the floor, “No way! I won’t do it.”

“Fine!” She started to get up then sat back down again, “But if you won’t pick one, I’m gonna pick all three. And I think I’ve proven I can be clever and pretty manipulative when I want to.”

I was starting to realize just how wrong she was. She didn’t have a clue about my history of cocksucking. She, in no way had converted me, and she just might get me fired if she approached my boss. But I was still beaten and in a jam. I hung my head morosely, “OK, I’ll bring Jim home.”

I’d approached men many times to offer blowjobs, but always in places where men went to get blowjobs. What are the chances Jim would accept an offer that came out of the blue? If he turned me down I’d have to face him in the neighborhood all the time. But if he accepted I’d fulfill the terms with Tassy and have a ready and available cock to suck right next door. It might even be big.

So I went next door, “Jim, do you think I can borrow a snowshovel?”

“Sure Jerry. In the garage.” I followed him in. He pointed to a row of shovels, “Pick any one you want.”

I waited until he would see, then I cupped my crotch in the traditional “look at what I’ve got” gesture. Nothing happened.

“Um, the shoveling hurts my back. You got one of those ergonomic ones?” I cupped again. But nothing happened.

“Try this blue one.” He held it out to me. Instead of taking it, I knelt down as if to examine the shovel. Now at eye level with his crotch I looked directly at it, then licked my lips. Still nothing happened.

“Well, thanks for the shovel, Jim. I think it’s gonna help a lot.” I headed for the door and then just when I was almost out I turned half-way back spitting out the words quickly, “Jimdoyouwanttocomeoverforablowjob?”

He looked me up and down with no emotion, “I got your drift the first three times you hinted at it. Leave the shovel outside the door when you’re done with it.”

I went back to Tassy, a failure. After I told my story she announced nonplussed, “I guess we can’t expect you to be an expert at picking up men on your first try.” Inwardly I laughed – if she only knew. But that was the end of it.

Then the following Monday when I got home from work she was lying naked on the bed to greet me seductively. She had on the same black stockings, “Would you like a footjob, or to suck a cock?” Both vibrators were on the bed next to her so she might mean that I would suck one of the vibrators or, if I were lucky, she might be planning to bring home George again.

“For you, I’ll suck a cock.” What I didn’t say was that I would do it for myself too.

She popped up off the bed. “OK, I can arrange that.”

In the kitchen and now wearing a tight white blouse with a skirt she started setting the table and pulled a roast out of the oven. Only it was a setting for three. Suspicious, I asked who was coming to dinner.”

“You know, Jerry, if you’re gonna move up in the world you gotta rub shoulders with the movers and shakers. Follow my lead.”

When the doorbell rang none other than my boss walked in. I looked at Tassy asking what was up with my eyes. At best she had set up a smoozing dinner without my knowledge. At worst she wanted me to hit on my boss.

He sauntered in like he owned the place. “Nice house you got here on your salary.” It was a dig disguised as a compliment.

Tassy took over, “Naturally, Mr. Homes, he’s really good with finances. He negotiated this house so we got it for twenty percent under asking. Then with sweat equity he tripled its value. Why, in a new role in your company he could do just as well for you.”

He appraised her statement, admiring her prowess, “You don’t say? Is that all?”

I didn’t know she had it in her. She was normally so scatterbrained, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t wily.

She continued building me up, “Not at all. He knows when not to take shit and he knows which side his toast is buttered on – some would say that makes him a suck up. I say it’s just smart.” Then she let that lay for a moment.

“Mr. Homes, where’s your lovely wife tonight? I haven’t seen her at the salon for months. It’s as if she dropped off of the planet.” Tassy walked toward our kitchen dragging us all along as if on an invisible leash. “I suppose I could call her.”

Suddenly his demeanor changed. All confidence left him, “Aah, um, she’s on a trip.” She led him to his seat by the hand.

“Oh right. She left you,” she stopped there for a long time, “alone to travel a bit. Are you doing alright in that big house all by yourself. I bet you get lonely.” Standing behind him she rubbed his shoulders just long enough to be sympathetic but not long enough to be considered flirting.

I never had any doubts about her flirting. She only had eyes for me – of this I was a hundred percent sure. Nothing could ever cause her to stray. Ever.

Bending low to set the gravy boat on the table she showed her cleavage brazenly to the suddenly befuddled man. Turning to me she kissed my cheek more affectionately than I would have expected under the circumstances. “My Jerry is the best man in the world and I’m completely devoted to him.”

We had a surprisingly pleasant meal discussing our personal lives and business goals and drinking plenty of liquor. She never lost an opportunity to make me look both socially adept and professionally accomplished. And in all honesty he appeared to be buying it.

She made me proud the way she pushed his buttons – both flattering his leadership and counterintuitively poking holes in his masculinity.

Finally he broke down, almost crying, complaining about how lonely he was and just needed some relief.

Pivoting, I saw the expression on her face change a few times as she was trying to make a decision about something. Finally, she asked coyly, “Suppose you had a personal assistant who would solve all your problems,” Somehow her blouse was unbuttoned one eyelet lower and he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. “Suppose this person kept your business running smoothly, managed your calendar, and helped you with that relief you spoke of?” With her chair turned sideways she crossed and uncrossed her legs displaying those same stockings she had previously massaged my dick with.

He started to answer, “Why, that would be perfect. As a matter…”

Abruptly, she cut him off with a finger to his lips, “And if you took advantage of this person – in the privacy of your office, no one need know.” She leaned forward placing her hands on his knees. He swallowed dryly. “The only important criteria would be results. It wouldn’t matter if your assistant was blonde, or brunette, tall, or short…” He nodded dumbly.

“Of course,” she winked, “an interview would be needed first. You would have to be certain that the offered relief was satisfactory.”