What's Your Perversion?

What's Your Perversion?
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Saturday, January 22, 2011

Forced Femme Stories: "Sucker" by Vickie Tern ( Parts 1 - 3 )

Here is another "Forced Femme" story by Vicky Tern, where the main character step-by-step willing agrees to walk down a path of femininity:
Sam's wife finally agrees to perform oral sex on him if he'll do it first for her. Little by little he discovers what she means by that.
 Since this is a rather long story, it will be posted a several parts.


Sucker by Vickie Tern (Parts 1 - 3)

I travel a lot on business, and I'm almost always faithful to my wife the whole time I'm away. I mean, there are rules, and I try to keep to them. This particular time I was away on an intensive three week sales trip, and I'd pretty much struck out, so I was incredibly horny when it ended, real eager to get home and bed down. So my last night out I phoned her and told her how much I missed her, and I asked her to rent us a porno tape we could watch together when I got back, "to help establish the right mood" I told her. As I always do.

Usually she'd respond "Do we have to?" and I'd answer, "A little fantasy adds spice and desire, honey! You like soft music and candles, and I can understand that. I happen to like seeing other people get it on! Same thing!" She'd then usually tell me that they are not at all the same thing, that a dirty movie doesn't in any way make for a romantic evening. But she'd do it if I insisted. Reluctantly.

This time when I asked there was merely a long silence and then she said, "Of course! That's just the thing! Have a safe trip home, honey!"

Finally she's coming around, I thought.

I did need the spice. Debbie's as sexy-looking as they come, the kind of woman men stop and stare at when they see her on the street. I don't know how I ever sweet-talked her into marrying me. Maybe persistence. I never quit asking, and when she finally said 'Yes!' no one could have been happier. But our sex turned out to be as vanilla as it gets. The missionary way only, no others need apply. Straight fucking with me on top. At most. Just do it, and sometimes I'd bring her off and sometimes I couldn't, and sometimes she seemed to want it and sometimes she seemed to want me to just get it over with. And often she didn't seem to care one way or the other. She'd been carefully brought up to believe sex was unseemly, I suppose. She never did want to talk about it.

I mean, Debbie did finally decide to spread her legs under me when I asked her to, so I could get into her, just barely. But she never splayed them way out to let me get way into her as far as I could penetrate, not that far but far enough I guess, and she never wrapped them around me to pull me deeper. And not even once did she ever feel some irresistible urge to kiss me while I was in her. Not even those few times when she seemed to be having an orgasm, or at least seemed more than usually interested in my moves on top of her.

I'd asked her about that, how come she rarely even kissed me when we were having sex, why she rarely seemed to get into what we were doing. She'd simply replied, "Sex is what two people want, honey. What you do just doesn't seem sexy to me." For Debbie, that was that. Sex isn't sexy? I'd ask her what she did want, but she'd never answer that either. Too embarrassed maybe, or too annoyed that I had to ask, thinking maybe that I should know the answer intuitively. Or, maybe her silence was her answer, that what she wanted was nothing. She'd rather we just cuddled? Who could tell?

 So I'd park my dick elsewhere now and then, reluctantly, but it was always nice to feel appreciated. Inside secretaries or clients in the companies I'd visit on the road, usually when there was also some business advantage. Only once with a woman near where we lived, Marcie, and then only because she came on to me first, and she lived way across town, and she was married and loved her husband Gabriel and would never leave him, she said, so there couldn't be any complications. It turned out he was so considerate and gentle and wimpy with her that now and then she felt she had to fuck a real man. I obliged for a week, and then quit when she called a halt. I worried Debbie might find out, but she didn't. No big deal.

But you can understand why I'd taken to watching blue movies with Debbie for arousal, using the other couples' fucking as a warmup. I'd always ask Debbie to watch with me -- I never did give up hoping she'd get curious about some of the things they did in those movies. She was fascinated by all that XXX coupling when we first started out. In fact she couldn't take her eyes off the screen. She'd stare at it and mutter "Unbelievable!" and "O my God, look what they're doing now!" over and over. But the novelty wore off, and after a while she just sat there with her eyes a little glazed, patient but glancing at her watch now and then. I'd ask her often if she'd want to try one of the positions we'd just seen, whatever the couple on the tape did. Not a word. She'd just look at me inexpressively for a moment, then look away again. Not even sadly.

This particular Friday evening I arrived home, and we had our romantic candlelight dinner, and then we each settled into our soft chairs in the game room and I put on the tape she'd gotten for us to watch.

Bad move right off! She'd picked it, but apparently the way she sometimes buys groceries, looking across the aisle for the next item instead of checking the shelf and then reading the label to be sure she was holding whatever it was she'd reached for. Or maybe she'd grabbed the first thing closest on the "adults only" shelf, with eyes averted. Because the subject was, for Debbie, absolutely hopeless. "Oral Sex for Women." A movie showing how girls can use their mouths to make their partners happy. How a girl can go down on a guy and love it. How to suck cock.

Oral sex was no way Debbie's thing! Way too big a step for her! A step in the right direction, sure, everything I'd wish for, I loved the feel of a girl's warm, wet lips nursing on my dick. But Debbie never went down on me, and never wanted me to go down on her. Even when we were engaged and I'd wanted into her pants the worst way, any which way, and she wanted us both to wait till we were married, because our relationship was something special, even then when I was desperate to make out with her and my balls ached, the most she'd ever do for me was a hand job. "Your thing in my mouth just doesn't appeal," was her only explanation.

I still had no idea how my thing in her mouth might feel. Guys would tell me what their girlfriends and wives did for them, and I'd try not to look envious. I often asked Debbie if she'd changed her mind. She'd just look at me silently as usual, then look away as usual. Sometimes in bed with her I'd just happen to end up in a position where my prick was right next to her face and her pussy next to my face. But even then, nothing. When I leaned forward to smell that fermy smell and kiss her pussy and then try to move deeper, maybe really go down on her for once, "I'm not clean," was all she'd say, and she'd wriggle out of reach. Even just after she'd just soaked in her bath, and her skin was soft and moist and smelled of that wonderful flowery bath oil she uses!

Well, the girl in this particular blue movie Debbie'd picked out had no such problem! Her guy's thing really must have tasted great! It hardly ever left her mouth. For her, a cock in the mouth was way better than two in the bush -- licking one was tastier than a lollipop or a fast-melting ice cream cone.

As the tape began, we saw first what looked like one of those gorgeous weather girls you always see on the news, those babes who stand in front of different maps and charts and stare out at you with huge dark eyes and advise you to stay indoors on rainy days to avoid getting wet. And you think, "Whatever you say, honey! Anything!" This girl sat at a desk, and her short dark hair brushed her ears as she shook her head earnestly, trying to be sincerely helpful. She explained that there are many things a girl can do for the boy she's with, if he's attractive, or if his cock is attractive, especially if she's practicing safe sex and not putting out, or if she's having her monthlies. "Here's Stacy to show you," she said.

The scene cut to Stacy, an even more gorgeous girl with plump, pouty red lips a lot like Debbie's. She was wearing a frivolous lacy babydoll that didn't quite cover her pale blonde mound or the stunning globes of her ass. It hung from huge tits projecting way ahead of her. She must have trimmed her pussy hair -- it looked half-naked, and I could see clearly where her slit began and then disappeared between her legs. As she walked down some hallway toward the camera, with each step she rocked her hips up to give me a better view. I began to get stiff immediately!

She entered a bedroom, and there on the bed was some guy supposed to be asleep on his back, sheets and blankets tossed to one side, cock and balls out there for all to see. An impressive package, I had to admit. Stacy smiled slyly as she looked it over, and she licked her lips while the first girl's voice continued on the sound track "Is he getting too eager, but you want to avoid getting pregnant? Or you just can't help yourself, you have to go down on him? Try this! A warning, though. Don't do this too often or he'll never be able to get hard enough for regular sex. He won't be able to penetrate you. He won't mind one bit, but you might!"

The blonde approached this guy from the foot of the bed and crept up between his sprawled legs and lay down between them, then stuffed the whole of his soft penis into her mouth. He opened his eyes, then closed them again and threw his head back. He was gone!

My boner got so hard it began to hurt!

I glanced over at Debbie. She was watching carefully, I suppose only just then realizing that she'd chosen the wrong tape, that it would only give me those same old ideas again. Which is what it did! I was thinking maybe this one would interest her in one of the things couples can do for each other, for once. But I wasn't hopeful. It was too much. Not a small step in the right direction, but the whole trip.

The man's cock grew to huge proportions, the way they all do in movies like this one. Thick as the girl's wrist and almost as long as her forearm, or so it seemed! Certainly it put mine to shame. Mine isn't especially small, though it's nothing to boast about, so as always when we watched these movies I hoped Debbie didn't notice. Though I doubted she'd care even if she did notice. This kind of thing wasn't for her. It wasn't sex.

When that dong got to full-size it looked scary! Stacy kissed its tip, licked a pearly bead off it, and then got down to pleasuring it. Her puffed out red lips stretched wide and then slid over the whole huge purple dome and then up and down it while both of her hands positioned that tool for her mouth and stroked and squeezed it, one hand gripping it above the other the way kids use a baseball bat to choose up sides, with a lot left over! She got more and more devoted to that cock head, more intensely concentrated, her cheeks hollowing on each up stroke. Soon his hips began to thrust into her face, and the length of that thing began to disappear into her head God knows where! They kept going, on and on, at it, the man grunting each time she bobbed down on him and he rose to meet her! I began to sweat! God, it was hot!

There came a shot looking at Stacy from the man's point of view, past his stomach to Stacy's face, though mostly what we saw was the hair piled high on her head out of the way. She was leaning comfortably between his legs on her forearms, her head centered and framed by his upraised thighs, her deep, dark eyes staring into mine as if it were my cock and we were sharing some intimate secret. His rod glistened, wet with her saliva, and I watched entranced as the upper part appeared and disappeared inside her swollen mouth.

Then came a reverse shot from Stacy's point of view of the man. A universe of gleaming cock filled the whole screen, a high-rise of erect flesh! Then came a majestic ride down that purple-domed tower, from the royal crown down finally to the man's pubic hair, a jungle of vigorous undergrowth. Then back up again to the peak. Stacy licked that shaft from top to bottom and back. Then again. Every heavy vein in that tree trunk was visible. And as Stacy licked them, they pulsed! There, from his crotch, was Stacy's view of the world. I could glimpse the man's face in the background in ecstasy, chin up, head back, somewhere else! Then Stacy's tongue got back to business again, and the entire viewing audience took a new lick down that cock from crown to jungle.

Eventually there came a side view and we could see Stacy's head bending to do the man repeatedly, swallowing more and more of him while he face-fucked her, slow-pumping that pipe into her like some oil derrick. She paused now and then to kiss the tip of the penis passionately, her long lost love now finally found, and to pull on the base with both her hands as if she were churning milk into butter.

I got so stiff I had to shift my weight to free up my own painfully hard-bound cock. Debbie glanced at me and for some reason smiled to herself.

Suddenly Stacy seemed to remember that this was an educational film. She lifted her head, still milking him with both hands, a thread of viscous pre-cum visible on those gleaming red lips as she smiled straight at me. The weather girl's voice came back, saying, "Girls, here's where you get to choose! Remember the old nursery rhyme? 'Cum in my face or cum in my tummy? Good for my skin, but also tastes yummy!'" Stacy hesitated, torn, looking down at the man's cock with real affection!

The cock decided for her, as it always does in these movies. It lurched a few times, then spurted white cum repeatedly onto her cheeks and chin and hair. She seemed rapturous. With a confidential grin she scooped a fingerful off an eyebrow, tucked it into her mouth, licked her finger, and mouthed "Yummy!" Then she kissed the tip of the man's prick again, her tongue wiping off a pearly puddle of semen that had fallen back onto it.

His cock now well and truly appreciated, Stacy then seemed to go into a frenzy of sucking, licking the softening prick and balls and kissing them both over and over. The weather girl's voice broke in. "Wasn't that wonderful? Aren't you eager to try that yourself? Well, press "pause" now and if you like go right ahead! We'll resume whenever you're ready!"

The word "PAUSE" appeared on the screen. I pressed "pause" and looked over at Debbie. It had been three weeks! Hell, for this, a lifetime! "How about it," I asked her. Ever hopeful!

"No way, Sam!"

"She enjoyed it! You saw!"

"She's an actress, a kind of actress anyway. If you're so eager for a blow job, do it yourself! Suck your own cock!"

"I would if I could," I said to encourage her, without even considering whether I would if I could.

"Oh? You would? Really? You'd like to take a cock in your mouth? How interesting!"

"But I don't bend that far."

"Where there's a will there's always a way," she replied, obviously for the sake of argument. "Maybe it's just that you're a little bit inhibited, Sam? Could that be it? Maybe this video can help you break down those inhibitions? That's what you're hoping will happen with me, aren't you? Wouldn't you love to have a cock sucking session like this one? Isn't that what you're thinking?"

"You bet I am! You bet I would!" I was desperate for one! Was tonight the night?

"I don't mean you getting one, baby. I mean you giving one if you're all that eager! Like Stacy! You saw her. Doesn't the idea excite you now that you've seen it? A long, fat prick like that man's sliding in and out of your mouth, and then feel cum shooting and splashing all over your face? Or do you prefer your cum yummy in your tummy?"

"Debbie, there's no need for sarcasm. All I did was wonder whether the tape might've changed your mind! You chose it, I didn't. I've been away for three weeks, remember?"

"You're always asking me!" she said, annoyed. "You're always hoping I'll go down on you! You're never satisfied with what we've got."

I wasn't going to fall into that trap! "We don't always have it! Not for the past three weeks, anyhow! And hope springs eternal. What's wrong with that?"

"Well, it's annoying. For one thing, I'm not persuaded there's anything in it for me! For another, I suspect you're all take and no give! You wouldn't do it!"

"What do you mean, I wouldn't do it?" I asked her. "I've wanted to go down on you lots of times! You always say 'No!' You know that!"

"That's not what I mean, Sam," she said, still resentful.

"Well, what do you mean?"

"You know perfectly well what I mean!"

I didn't exactly, but was afraid I might if I gave it a moment's thought. I also didn't like the direction this discussion was going in, not at all, and I certainly didn't like the mood. "No I don't know what you mean," I said, as innocently as I could.

She turned toward me. "Think about it this way. You're always after me to wrap my mouth around that tube of yours and lick it and feel all those veins and bumps with my tongue, and purse my lips on the edge of your cock head, and suck up whatever comes through your pee hole. Taste the stuff that leaks out of the tip whenever you get excited. Suck on it, and sink your prick in and out of my moist, hot, clinging mouth until finally you squirt straight down my throat. Yours would fit completely in my mouth, wouldn't it? Maybe even stretched out full it wouldn't quite reach my throat, so my lips really could do it all! Isn't that what you want? Great for you, maybe, but why should I? What's in it for me?"

Now I had a boner that was unbelievably rigid! "God, you make it sound so attractive! Honey, lots of women do that for their men! You heard what the girl said! What's in it for you is knowing that you're giving me pleasure!"

"Well then, if you think it's so attractive, if you think giving that kind of pleasure is so wonderful, you do it! You do it! You first!"

"I mean attractive for me! If the girl does it for me! To me!" I was getting confused. "I'd love for you to do it to me! It's harmless, and it would give me great pleasure." Now that sounded pompous! Our last discussion of this subject had ended this way too, I remembered. And the previous!

Debbie was turning stubborn, as she always did when we argued. "OK, Sam! I heard you! You said it, I didn't. So you must mean it! Sucking cock is attractive and harmless, and it's pleasurable because it gives pleasure. And that's why you want me to go down on you!"

"Right!" Now I was also a little exasperated. "I mean, Debbie, why'd you bring this video home and get me all hot and bothered like this? It's all about blow jobs! Which you don't do!"

She looked defiant, but said nothing.

For once I had the advantage, and I leaned in. "'Oral Sex for Women'?" I asked, incredulous. "What could the title mean other than what it does mean? Cunt lapping? You don't do that! Cock sucking? You don't do that either! What else could it be about? Let's just go to bed and do some of the old things! It's been three weeks, and I'm feeling horny as hell!"

"That's a very romantic proposal, Sam! How can any girl resist it? I thought from the title that for once we'd be watching how women do it with other women. You're always hoping I'll get ideas from your porn movies, so I thought maybe for once you could get some ideas. About how to be gentle and considerate, the way women are I'm sure! About kissing me nicely, for openers, maybe! Other things too. It does have pointers for you, doesn't it?"

"For me? A movie telling me how to suck a cock?"

"Even that! Yes! So at the very least you'd know at first hand what you're always asking me to do! So you'll know what you're talking about. Besides, cocks aren't the only things people can suck on. I've sometimes wondered how it might feel if you were a little more ... ardent. I have fingers and toes as well as breasts, you know. All you ever want in your mouth is my breasts. If those."

"Oh, God! Let's go to bed Debbie! Right now! I'd love to suck on your fingers and toes and breasts, right now! And anything else you'd care to name!"

She looked over smugly, as if she'd just finally gained a point in some contest. "That's good! But first, let's watch some more of the tape."

"Why, hon? If you don't intend to use any of the information."

"You never know what might turn out to be useful, Sam!"

Elated by that concession, slight as it was, I pressed "Play" and the tape resumed. Maybe there'd be something in this for me after all?

The next segment was brief. The short-haired, dark-haired, dark-eyed weather girl looked out and said "Now we're all going to break down what you just saw into its basic elements, and we'll practice each of them, and then practice everything together. Press 'Pause' again now, girls, and then go get your favorite man. Or if you don't have one, go get your favorite dildo." She smiled. "Or if you don't have one of those either, not yet anyhow, then a banana or a hot dog or a candle or a soda pop bottle will do just fine. Some girls like cucumbers. A little hand lotion will help, too. If you don't happen to have a man handy, plan to use your imagination." She smiled encouragingly, just between us girls. "Take him in hand, and then we'll resume." She smiled again.

The word "PAUSE" came on the screen again.


I pressed "pause," and turned to ask Debbie whether she saw her favorite man anywhere about. Without a word she got up abruptly and went into the kitchen. She came back with two bananas.

"Here," she said. "Practice what you preach!"

Now I was puzzled. "Why a banana for me? This tape is for girls.

 "Not necessarily." Then she relented a little. "It was recommended to me by my office manager, Bruce. He's ... you know. He's different, if you know what I mean. We all talk to him as if he were one of us, all the girls in our office. He knows lots about how to make men more ... responsive. What's attractive. What attracts. We're always curious whether men like Bruce feel the way women do about ... some things." She paused, then continued. "I mentioned my fingers and toes, how I wished sometimes you were a little more ... venturesome, and so on. He thought a tape teaching more about oral sex might help."

"You talk about our private things at the office, Debbie? And ask a gay man for advice?"

"Sam, it's Bruce, not just anyone! Women feel comfortable confiding in him! He never takes advantage of what he knows, so it doesn't matter what he knows! And he doesn't gossip -- who'd pay attention to him? And he has the cutest dates calling on him after work, sometimes! Sometimes we're all a little jealous!"

I didn't like hearing that. Jealous of Bruce? Debbie and the other girls at her office size up the men who come through as possible...partners? Even gay men calling on a gay man? I didn't say anything, but I must have looked a little solemn. Worried.

"I don't mean jealous of Bruce, honey. I mean we envy the way his dates look. All prettied up for their night out on the town. Some of them are just gorgeous, and dressed beautifully too! Designer dresses, he likes that, and they all have the figures they need to carry them off!"

"Bruce's dates? Gorgeous? Beautiful? And he's gay? They're men, aren't they?"

"I suppose. Some may be, technically. Bruce says lots of men think they're really women, so they take hormones and get the surgery they need to become women. And while they're at it, the surgery they also need to become beautiful. Lots don't, they just work at being beautiful the way women do. Whether they're then women or men is all in the eye of the beholder. Bruce likes them that way. His friends all look like women when they come to call on him. "

"Your Bruce likes guys who look like girls?"

"He likes girls who were once guys, honey, for sure! And the girls who visit him like his kind of man, too. We all do. He's something! A real man. Lean and graceful, but with solid, hard muscles, like a dancer. Handsome, chiseled face, high cheekbones, deep eyes. Very dramatic! He did dance professionally for a while before he got his M.B.A. Why do you ask?"

"No reason. Just trying to understand." The way she'd described Bruce was disturbing me. She sounded ready to go to bed with him even though he was gay. Debbie must have sensed it.

"Understand what, honey? Does it matter to you? Do you have some special feeling about effeminate men I don't know about? Would you like to date him too? A handsome, hard-bodied man? Does the idea that some men look like gorgeous women give you a funny feeling inside? Do you secretly envy them? We were talking about how nice it is to suck cock. Do you ever wonder what a pretty man's cock might feel like, say, in your own mouth? Or a handsome man's, pushed into you maybe somewhere even more private? Do you have strange feelings about all this you don't want to admit to me, maybe? Maybe not even to yourself?"

There was that sarcasm again. I was already losing round two, and I hadn't even left my corner. I said nothing. Then, "This tape teaches the wrong kind of sucking, Debbie. It's your Bruce's kind of sucking. Cock sucking! That's what gay men do with each other. And girls do with men. Real men don't suck cock or dress up to look like girls. That's all I meant!"

"That's what you think you meant! I heard something else! No more discussion! You said before that you'd suck on anything I'd care to name! Well, right now I'm naming a banana! Is that too much for you to handle?"

"No," I said, trying now to be conciliatory. "Of course I'll suck on your banana!"

She saw that I was trying to appease her, and she tried to appreciate it. "That's my dear! Let's just watch some more of the tape, shall we? Maybe we'll both learn a few things!"

Again, faint hope rose up in my heart from that remark. Maybe she would change her mind about blowing me? Maybe this mis-chosen tape would prove a godsend? I looked at the way she was holding her banana. Cradling it in both hands. Caressing it with her fingertips! A woman's fingertips, long, slender, manicured in deep red. Grasping her phallic banana at the base with one hand, and stroking its underside absent-mindedly with the other. Again I found I was rock hard! I pressed "play."

There was Stacy again, still wearing full lips and babydolls, but this time seen from the rear on her knees, facing a different man seated on a plain chair. Another man with an incredible endowment -- his erection rose from his crotch higher than two bananas planted end to end! Or so it seemed. Stacy looked over her shoulder, seemed to notice us watching, smiled, and then lifted her ass and waved 'Hi!' at us with it, swishing its exposed round cheeks. My prick lurched.

The dark-haired girl's voice again addressed us. "Now, we're going to take this topic up one part at a time, and then put all the parts together. The lessons are first, how to hold a man's cock. Then how to kiss it. Then in quick succession, because we're all eager to get down to it, aren't we, how to lick it, suck it, slide lips up and down on it, and then as a special treat how to deep throat it. Finally, cum-swallowing. Then, girls, you're on your own. But if you'd like to know even more, there are all sorts of "Special Project" lessons included on this tape for afterward, and you can watch them at your leisure. Meanwhile just listen and watch closely while Stacy demonstrates everything I describe. Ready?"

I glanced at Debbie, and saw that she was looking at me. Strictly speaking, at my banana, which I was holding at my side in one hand like, well, like a banana. While she was cradling hers like some precious, fragile thing to be cherished. Her eyes flicked up to mine, and I saw she was rebuking me. I quickly held my banana in front of me like hers, like a baby, in both hands. Satisfied, her eyes returned to the screen.

"As we all already know I'm sure, guys come in many different sizes. Some are weenies. Most are only average, but that's OK, some girls are satisfied with only average, maybe they have a problem of self-esteem, or maybe the man's good with what he's got. Chuck as you can see is not average! His is a prize-winner -- more than two hands tall! So Stacy has begun by grasping it gently but firmly at its base with one hand, and inclining it to a more comfortable angle for her mouth with her other."

A close-up followed of Stacy's long fingers with their long red manicured nails doing just that. Like Debbie's. I grasped my banana by the base and bent it toward me, and looked again at Debbie. I sensed that she'd just checked to see if I was now being dutiful and minding my lessons, but her eyes were on the screen, and she was holding her banana exactly the way Stacy was holding Chuck's cock, feminine delicacy implied by her little finger held apart from the rest, just a bit, as if cocks and bananas were tea cups. I did the same thing.

"Even when it's swollen and erect, a penis's skin is loose. Lift and lower the skin down at the base so it slides a little on the cock shaft as you grasp it. Pump it a few times. Then take hold of the cock with your right hand too, and lift and lower the skin there. Then with both hands together. Do this a few times. Men call what you're doing jerking off, but be languorous about it, girls. Real slow. He'll appreciate it later that you were in no hurry. And it'll give him more time to surrender his body and his desires to you for the rest of the session. That's what you want. To melt his brain into his cock so he becomes putty in your hands. You know the old rule -- make them want you, then decide later whether you want them."

Stacy was pulling on Chuck with a tantalizing slowness, and Chuck was already lost in his bliss. I have never envied anyone as much as I envied Chuck at that moment.

"If you're using a dildo or banana as a cock, pump with your right hand while the other steadies it. If you've got both hands full of a man, especially a man with a prick like Chuck's, count your blessings. And use the hand lotion or some other mild lubricant to give your hand a slick feeling."

I was now holding my banana like a flagpole on top of my own pent-up, raging prick. Stacy poured pink lotion onto her palms from a pink plastic bottle and then rubbed them together vigorously, like some ditch digger who'd spits on them before picking up his shovel. Then with sinuous, deft movements of those marvelous slim hands and fingers she spread the rest of the lotion onto the backs and wrists of both her hands. Debbie handed me an identical pink plastic bottle. It smelled of flowers -- her usual skin lotion. She watched me. I set the banana down for a moment and spread the lotion onto my own hands and wrists with a close imitation, I thought, of Stacy's seductive dexterity. Then cupped them and sniffed deeply. Now my hand also smelled of flowers, and it was like sniffing Debbie herself! Debbie smiled encouragingly and turned back to the screen. Slowly, with softened hands, like the blonde in the video, I masturbated my banana.

Our weather girl's voice returned. "Now bend over and kiss the tip, girls. Delicately." That's just what Stacy did to Chuck. "Then again. Lick off any drops of pre-cum. Now kiss the edge of the crown, and lick that. You're driving him wild, darlings!"

What Stacy was doing to Chuck was driving me wild too, but I didn't dare reach for my own dong, which was performing a full court press in my pants, trapped, weeping in frustration. Instead, I bent to my own kissing and licking after a quick glimpse at Debbie doing the same. She looked so sexy! Why wouldn't she do me that way!? Her eyes rose to meet mine with an almost sisterly affection, as if we were two girls double-dating two bananas. I turned my attention entirely to my man of the hour, Mr. Banana, and I kissed and licked him passionately, devotedly.

"Make him wait before you take him into your mouth. Make him a little crazy! Now kiss and lick his cock along its whole length, bottom to peak. Especially on the underside, girls. It's extremely sensitive. Take your time. But don't forget to keep pumping the base with your hands! A few gentle squeezes now and then will help too. So he can't possibly guess what you'll take it into your pretty little head to do next. Then he'll be so grateful when you actually do take it into your pretty little head!"

That's exactly what my pretty little head did. I looked over for a moment, and saw that Debbie had stopped with her banana altogether, and was just watching me. She looked pleased, not at all angry.

"No fair!" I said to her in between licks and kisses. "You have to do this too! It was your idea!"

"Yes it was," she replied. "You look so sexy right now, honey! So very dear! But may I make a suggestion? You're nowhere near gentle enough. Maybe you're feeling too passionate? Try to be more ladylike! Daintier! Maybe peel back the banana so your imitation cock will be a lot more fragile? Then you'll respect the delicacy of what you're doing! "

She's the expert? I did that, and found that from then on I did indeed have to be extremely careful not to bite or break it. The video instructor explained how the ridge below the crown of a penis provides a natural seal for the lips for sucking, and added that it isn't the sucking that brings a man off, it's the vacuum sealed pressure of a woman's lips sliding up and down on an erect penis, lubricated by her saliva, slippery and yet sweet, snug as a virgin's pussy. She discussed how to open the back of your throat, and advised novices how to practice defeating the gag reflex so a man can literally feel your throat swallowing him.

She informed us that a male orgasm produces usually less than two teaspoons of cum, but he can squirt it as far as six feet. "Men love to think it's gallons, and they love for us to swallow it all," the voice informed us confidentially. "So do try! If your man is healthy it's a nourishing source of protein, a little sweet, a little salty, slick on the tongue like tapioca or an egg white, lightly flavored sometimes by whatever he's eaten recently. You'll have plenty of time to get accustomed to his distinctive flavor while you seduce him, because if you've done your cock sucking right, he's been leaking pre-cum from his cock-tip all along. He can't help but. The poor dear!"

I tried diligently to do everything she advised. It was quite a repertory. Stacy demonstrated different lip, tongue, head, and hand movements, ways to play a man the way musicians play their instruments. Then she began freely improvising her melodies. Riffing! It was an art form!

My naked banana was ready to climax, I was sure, when I heard our instructor say, "If you aren't blowing a real man right now, girls, you'll want to taste your reward anyhow. So while Stacy's bringing Chuck to the edge, go get a gravy baster and fill it with the whites of a raw egg. Then squeeze the bulb into your mouth to simulate the ejaculations of a live cock finally gone wild and spewing cum for all it's worth! That's every girl's reward, the evidence of things hoped for."

I looked up. There was Debbie standing over me and my banana, holding a gravy baster erect in front of my face with an almost triumphant look! She really was getting off on this! I couldn't disappoint her! Like a starved whore I abandoned my banana, lunged at the gravy baster pointed straight at my mouth, and began to nurse on it frantically. I slid my lips back and forth over the narrow tip, up and down, while Debbie held it in position against her crotch as if it were her penis. I was vaguely thinking that size does matter, that bananas are really fatter, better endowed, more satisfying in the mouth than gravy basters. But just then the gravy baster rewarded me by pumping something warm, salty, and slick into my mouth. The warmth puzzled me -- I knew that we keep our eggs refrigerated. A faint fishy flavor puzzled me too. But then this whole previously prepared gravy baster puzzled me. Had Debbie seen this tape before? She must have. Why show it to me? She did intend to do me, somehow, but I had to leap some hurdles first?

I closed my eyes to concentrate on swallowing the viscous stuff -- all at once seemed the only way. I gulped several times, but still felt it coating my mouth and tongue. It stayed there, a film over everything that even my own saliva couldn't penetrate! It didn't let you forget! "Congratulations, girls! Now you've sucked cock!" the voice on the tube concluded. "This ends our demonstration of the essentials. You are now capable cock suckers, and your men will love you for it. But to learn more advanced techniques, continue watching!" I opened my eyes just in time to see Stacy lifting her mouth up off the hair at the base of Chuck's prick. She'd deep throated that whole tower! That tool of his kept leaving her mouth, on and on -- it seemed to take forever until finally the peak passed out from between her lips. Had Chuck cum directly into Stacy's stomach? Was his dong two feet long? Longer? How did that cute girl ever learn to swallow a thing like that?

There were more advisory lessons further along, our guide reminded us, detailed re-examinations of the fundamentals and quite a few ingenious tricks of the trade. But we might just as well view them another time, I thought. I stopped the video -- my banana had gotten mangled anyhow by my repeated failed attempts to deep throat it. The idea that Debbie was at last interested in oral sex excited me. But sucking on a banana was not my idea of an educational evening, nor an entertaining one either when I'd been away for three weeks. Maybe Debbie would look at the rest of the tape by herself, and maybe be persuaded by it? She seemed preoccupied. Had the video finally turned her on? I asked her that question.

"No," she replied seriously. "What turned me on was the sight of my own husband's lips sliding up and down on that banana. You did seem to be enjoying it, honey. If a job is worth doing, it's worth doing well, is that how you felt? Or were you really beginning to get turned on? I hope so. When you were bestowing those little nibbling kisses on the tip I felt very strange inside. Very excited, just as I'd hoped I would be. That was unforgettable. You did seem to be deeply in love with that banana! Next time I want you to have a manicure like mine to wrap around the thing, and wear some lipstick to enhance the effect. I'll love seeing that! Promise! Did you enjoy sucking off that banana? Please say yes!"

This wasn't the excitement I'd hoped to find, but it was something, maybe something I could work with. "Sure, whatever -- it was OK," I said. No more answer was needed than that. She sounded serious, but I figured she was still teasing me. At least she wasn't being sardonic, nor disgusted. She seemed more intrigued by my newly discovered talent. "What do you mean, next time?"

She took a deep breath. "Well, I have to tell you, Sam, and I realize people can differ on this. I loved watching you do it. Even though I've always thought the whole thing was little demeaning for a woman, insulting even. Asking a woman to bow down to worship the almighty male phallus? It's humiliating! That's why whenever you've asked me to lower myself that way, to submit myself to you, I get angry and answer 'No way!' And tonight when you were asking me again all I could think was 'Oh? You want that? You first! You do it!' And you did it! I loved watching you doing it. It's obviously a man's thing. A kind of phallic self-celebration. A vision of a man honoring the symbol of his own manliness. I found it strangely exciting!"

"Honey," I had to reply. "You miss the point. It's an act of affection. It's meant to make someone feel good. It's not in the least humiliating, I shouldn't think!"

"That's what I'm saying! Why don't men do their friends? Make them feel good, if it's like a good-natured slap on the back?"

I paid scant attention. "For men it's demeaning, Debbie. Submission to another man. But you heard that woman say that for women it isn't submissive at all, rather the reverse. Good oral sex can reduce a man to a gibbering simpleton who will agree to anything a woman wants. Its a way for a woman to control him, even dominate him." Maybe that argument will work, I was thinking.

"That's what you want? For me to control you? Dominate you?"

I had to choose my answer carefully, or I'd also lose round three! "For you to persuade me to please you in any way I can, yes, by trying to please me. Yes, I'd love that! And I'd want to please you too, Debbie. I really would!"

"That's the kind of relationship we've got? That's what love is? A tradeoff? Tit for tat? No tit, no tat?"

"Debbie, that's not what I said!"

"It's what I heard." She was silent for a long moment. I was about to suggest again that we just get to bed and try to please each other in our customary old fashioned ways -- I was desperate for any kind of sex after three weeks away and alone. For affection. Just for acceptance! Then suddenly she seemed to come to a decision. "Let's be reasonable, Sam. Put down that banana, or else eat it and let's talk."

"All right." Outwardly I was calm, but now inwardly wild with hope! Was it possible that this very night my wife meant finally to favor me with her virgin mouth?! Finally?

She settled in. "Now let me understand this. You want me to do something I think of as unnatural, distasteful, demeaning, even a little perverse, because it would please you. Is that right?"

"I'm sorry you feel that way about it. But essentially, yes. I'm not insisting, mind."

"I appreciate that, honey. So neither am I."

"Neither are you what? Insisting on what?"

"Insisting that you do it first. Something you'd think of as unnatural, distasteful, and even a little perverse. To show your good faith. So you'll fully appreciate what my pleasing you could be costing me. To show me even before I attempt it that you've been there and done that, and survived it, maybe even enjoyed it! Isn't that a principle of male leadership? Never ask anyone to do anything you haven't done first and done better?"

"Done what, Debbie?" It was getting late, and I was getting too tired and addled for these mind games.

"What you want me to do. Suck cock!"

"You mean I should go down on myself? I told you, I can't! I don't bend far enough!"

"But you did tell me you would if you could!"

"I said that, yes." And I'd regretted it instantly!

"So why not do it to a cock you can reach?"

"Where's that, baby?"

"Why not do some other man's cock?"


She continued in a straightforward, reasonable tone of voice. "That seems only fair. And I'll give you good odds! Here's what I'm thinking. You suck on another man's cock. All the way. Bring him off at least once, to show your good faith, maybe more if you feel like it to prove to me it's enjoyable. Then I'll suck on yours whenever you want, for all the rest of our married lives. But you first! Because I need to know that you've overcome the same distaste I've got at the prospect of it. That you understand how I feel! That you've overcome that distaste in order to please me! As an act of love. That you've set an example for me to admire and try to emulate!"

She smiled encouragingly at me.

I stared back. Had that video driven her mad? I tried to reach her. "Honey, for openers think of the humiliation! Men don't give sexual pleasure to other men. Not unless they're gay. Why do you want me to...?"

"You just said it wasn't in the least humiliating, that to do it is an act of affection! Where's your affection for me? And besides, you promised me you would. You said you'd suck anything I'd care to name. I named a banana and you did that job beautifully. Now I'm naming something else. Another man's cock."

She really meant it! She was serious!

"You're always telling me you're a man of your word, that's why all your clients trust you!"

That was true. I valued my word. What was it I'd promised her?

"So be a man of your word! But even more, be a leader! Here's your opportunity to lead the way! You do it, maybe I'll watch, and who knows, maybe I'll even pick up a few pointers. But certainly, then I'll feel obliged to do it for you."

She nodded, affirming that she agreed with what she'd just heard herself say. I just stared.

"It's that simple. You lead, I'll follow. You do it as payment in advance, or as a sacrificial act, or to set the right example, or out of curiosity, whatever reasons you think adequate, and I'll do it for you. In gratitude, out of renewed devotion to you. Who knows, maybe I'll get to like the feel of a man's cock in my mouth -- lots of girls do. Maybe you'll get to like the feel too. I saw you with that banana."

I still couldn't say anything!

She went into her closing argument. The one that cinches a deal and gets a customer to sign. I was reminded that she's a successful real estate saleswoman. "Think about it, Sam! Think about what it costs you, and what it gets you! Only maybe fifteen minutes of a little discomfort, a half hour at most, out of a whole lifetime. It can't be that unpleasant -- the video certainly doesn't think so, and you've never implied to me that it might be. You do that and you can get in return weeks and months and years of blow jobs if you want them. Weeks and months of my mouth wrapped snug around your prick and slipping up and down on it. Weeks of you feeling exalted while your loving wife gives you head. All for giving me fifteen minutes of your time. Showing me the way. Fifteen minutes you might not much enjoy, but then again you just might. Stacy certainly does! Less than fifteen minutes if you can get into it and bring him off quickly."

She waited for my reaction. I tried to speak, but only splutters came out. Was that a faintly amused smile at the edge of her lips? "Hello?" she called out to me.

"Debbie," I finally managed to say. "You don't mean it!"

"Do you mean it when you say you want me to go down on you? When you imply that I don't love you because I won't go down on you?"

"I've never said that! Never!" But saying it that way only seemed to confirm for her that I'd felt it. She merely nodded, her suspicion confirmed, a glint of anger now suddenly visible in her eyes.

She stood up abruptly. "Think about it, Sam. That's the deal. You do what you must. I'm going to bed!" And the next second she was gone. Nowhere in the room. A second after that I heard our bedroom door slam shut. I was familiar with that sequence -- many of our quarrels ended that way. When I came in she'd be asleep. There'd be no lovemaking between us! I wouldn't dare wake her. She was now unapproachable.


So I didn't think there was any reason to follow her in. To plead with her. Saying what? I just sat there, shocked. My own wife wants me to be a cock sucker. But she's right, her own husband wants her to become a cock sucker! Fair's fair. Isn't it?

Disconsolate, unthinking, I sat there. So somehow she's turned on by mouth-to-appendage, I was thinking. She'd mentioned fingers and toes. Other men's cocks too, apparently. But watching, not doing, or being expected to do it. Feeling in control of what's happening while she watches? That's OK. I guess she's something of a voyeur after all. Like me. Apparently she'd resented it whenever I'd asked her to do something she'd never done. But watching someone else do it?

I picked up the remote and pressed "play." Then I half-watched the screen. Was this my future? The first of the "Special Project" episodes showed Stacy sitting on Chuck's face while leaning forward to lick and suck at his cock. There are worse fates than that, I decided, and I began to watch more closely. The next demonstrated Stacy's swallowing techniques, different shots photographed at different times one after another, with what must have been forty different loads of cum spurting into her mouth all told, and swallowed down. The most efficient method seemed to be a kind of closed mouth gulping, teeth apart, prick held loosely in the lips like a cigarette. I tried to swallow that way.

Another episode established that however a cock sucker may feel about her man of the evening she should never break eye contact with him, not by looking down, not by looking away, not by closing her eyes. "Keep watching his face," the weather lady advised as Stacy's enormous dark eyes stared in solemn innocence at me again in the shot from the man's angle of vision, the one with her face centered just above Chuck's crotch. "He'll think you're hoping for his approval. But you'll know its just one more way you're playing tunes on his flute to make him dance." The angle changed to Stacy's, and I watched the man writhe in exquisite pleasure, or anguish, who could tell which, from whatever I was supposedly doing to him. Whatever Stacy was doing to him.

The tape ended in a suck-fest, bodies heaped on other bodies indiscriminately, each mouth fitted to a crotch of one or another gender. Close up I could see that some pairs were guys with other guys -- it didn't seem to matter. One of them looked like a girl until you looked closely -- she was just like any of the attractive girls you see in porn films, pretty and heavily made up, with puffy lips, large full breasts, and pointy nipples. Except that she also had balls and a cock. Equality of the sexes was this film's message, I decided. All mouths are created equal, regardless of race, creed, color, gender, or political affiliation. Suck and suck alike. As ye give, so shall ye receive! From each according to his ability, to each according to his need! Orgy politics!

Last of all was an image of two men sixty-nining each other devotedly, forming a perfect love knot I thought. Lying stretched out at their ease with eyes closed, heads bobbing, and mouths working, one atop the another, man on man, hugging. My mind by now was cluttered with all sorts of wise sayings. If you suck and don't succeed, suck, suck again. A cum saved is a cum earned. It's an ill cock sucker that blows nobody good. One good fuck deserves another. Good night, good suck, and God bless! I was too groggy to think straight. It didn't seem to matter. A few minutes later I crawled stealthily into my own bed for the first time in three weeks. Debbie didn't stir.

But in the morning when I opened my eyes she was leaning on one elbow and looking down at me with her inexpressive look. When she saw I was awake, she didn't move nor change her expression. I looked up into her eyes, also not moving. Then she wordlessly extended her thumb toward me, toward my mouth, its tip not quite touching. An inquiry, I realized even though I was still half-dozing. Wordlessly I leaned forward, kissed it, then licked it, then opened my mouth and closed my lips around it. Then slid my mouth up and down on it a few times, my eyes never leaving hers, cock sucking her thumb by the tried and true Stacy system. She smiled and with her other hand she stroked my cheek.

I suppose she wanted to be sure, so when I happened to be only kissing the tip of her red fingernail, she pulled it away, then placed both hands on the top of my head and gently pressed down. I slid down in the bed as she directed, until my face had arrived almost between her legs. At last? She spread those legs wide apart to accommodate my body, and I found myself lying between them just like Stacy with her second man, staring at her mound with its downy hair the way Stacy had stared at that man's huge dong. She wanted me to do her cunt! But no. Her hand covered her mound, and there was that thumb again sticking straight up out of it like a short, erect cock, exactly where a penis would have been if she were a man. I looked up and saw her looking down at me, her expression still benign, but expectant. So I kissed that thumb again, and took the red tip into my mouth. Then all of it.

I then began to suck doubly hard on that pelvic thumb, my eyes never leaving hers. She knew now, and knew that I knew. I closed my eyes and concentrated on that phallic thumb as if it were my life, my soul's sustenance, lipping the tip, bobbing my head up and down while sucking it up to the first joint, licking the length of its underside, kissing its base passionately, avid to bring it off! I wanted that thumb to climax and cum with all my heart! I was starved! Desperate! I saw each time my head rose that the third finger of that same thumbed hand, her left hand, the finger with her gold wedding band, had slid into her slit and begun a gentle massage. My head bobbed rhythmically up and down over her as I finger-sucked her while she finger-fucked herself! Her thigh muscles tensed. Then her whole body! Then she gave a great sigh and relaxed. I'd brought her off!

Nothing more needed to be said. There were no more rounds to fight. I'd agreed. She'd won.

And she then welcomed me with open thighs! Our lovemaking for the next few hours was mind-shattering! The best of our married lives together, by far! She kissed and clasped and writhed and twisted on, around, atop, and all over me, and I lunged and plunged myself into and all over her! All without a single word spoken! There was no need. Except when at last I was about to dip my face into her delicate pink, shining, moist slit, its dainty lips curling along its length and the pink bud of her clit peering out shyly from its hood, awaiting liberation by my tongue. We were in a perfect position for sixty-nining, my crotch in front of her face just as hers was in front of mine. I squared my hips at that moment to thrust myself forward, knowing that my penis was only inches from her mouth, offering it to her in return for my face buried in her. But she murmered, "Not yet, love. Not yet. Soon! But do me! Lick me! Yessss!"

I did.

It was early afternoon by the time we finally came together in the kitchen for a kind of brunch, showered and dressed casually, at ease, feeling quite civilized. I suppose strange things happen to couples when they're separated -- what we each desire becomes fixed in our imaginations, and if we don't get them, petty discontents emerge to haunt us. Then with a few lurches the relationship re-establishes itself, as solid as ever, if it was solid to begin with. But different. I'd been three weeks away from Debbie, and my old desire for oral sex with her and her reluctance become the dominant fact of our relationship last night.

Now we were different. She'd proposed a way to bridge the gap, and I'd accepted it. Already I'd enjoyed a bonus, hours of wonderful oral access to her body anywhere I chose. Her ten fingers and toes and her marvelous breasts had been sucked as lovingly, as fondly, as her clit. Now I was going to suck some guy's cock, and then she was going to suck mine whenever I asked her to do it for the rest of our lives together. We'd each give something and get something we'd each wanted. Otherwise nothing had changed. We still loved each other. It was a warm, sunny day. What had seemed unthinkable last night was simply no big deal.

I got down to the kitchen first, and greeted Debbie with an elaborate brunch. She was wearing white shorts and a slightly-tight white T-shirt, her hair held back with a red scrunchie the color of her lipstick and nails, looking just adorable. Looking radiant! We kissed each other as passionately as on the first morning of our honeymoon, and we almost went back to our bedroom. But no, enough for now. We had things to talk about. She looked at the spread I'd prepared -- eggs benedict, blueberry pancakes, bacon and sausage, toast and fresh muffins, espresso coffee. Her face lit up.

"That's gorgeous, sweetheart. I hereby claim this feast as a token of your love for me! Now let's eat no more of it than we must to keep from starving. We'll stow the rest."

"Isn't today special?" I was disappointed. I'd been creating that breakfast for over an hour, and had even gone to a nearby bakery to get the muffins.

"It is to me, certainly. But this needs to be a feast for the eyes, not the stomach. We need to lower your weight a little, improve your figure, so you'll feel more attractive. So do I."

"You couldn't be any more attractive to me than you are right now," I told her. "And I'm pretty trim. Last night probably took off any extra weight I added during the past few weeks."

She dimpled, then put her forefinger under her chin and bobbed her head, obviously delighted. "That's so very sweet of you to say that, darling! You are an angel, and I do love you! And you do look lovely, yes! You certainly feel lovely!. But I think ten pounds less to love would mean more that we can enjoy loving! With just a little care we can each lose that much in a week! Twenty in the month we'll need to field test before the big event!"

"All right," I said, a little puzzled. "That can't hurt. But why?"

"We need thin waistlines," she replied. "We're starting out fresh now, in a way. You're a new you, so you need to look new. More huggable. You can't imagine how happy I am, knowing that you're willing to please a man for my sake! Even if only on a whim, in order to satisfy me!"

She smiled, and her radiance lit up her whole face. My whole body glowed in the warmth! I melted!

"There's no hurry. But I know just the man! I think you'll like him too. And no complications!"

"Complications? You mean, I won't feel tempted to run off with him afterward? Who, Debbie?"


"The office manager who recommended that video to you to begin with? The gay guy?

"That's who, honey. You'll love him! Well, you will, sweetheart, that's true, at least you'll make love to him! He's so hot! I described him to you last night, you remember? A professional dancer, once? Thin, not as thin as you even now, but a real hunk! His every move marvelous to watch! And those penetrating eyes, gentle yet intense! You'll adore him, we all do! He'll be ideal for this! I'll talk to him on Monday. He's very particular about his partners, but I think maybe he'll let you do him as a favor to me. The other girls would be insane with jealousy! What a pity I can't call them and tell them!"

I was uneasy about this. "Give a blow job to a known faggot? Debbie, what would that make me if it got out? Think of my reputation! Think of yours, married to me!"

"That's what I am thinking about, baby. Who's more likely to talk, some straight guy boasting to his buddies about the freebie he got from that queer he always thought was straight, or Bruce, who gets all the sex he wants whenever he wants it, from other men if he wants them, so one more isn't notable? Who's had to be discreet about his sexual preferences all his life? Who knows more about this kind of sex? He'd be doing us the favor!"

She had a point.

"As for what blowing Bruce makes you, what does blowing anyone make you? The same thing. A gay man's penis isn't different from any other man's. Either way, whether or not it becomes known, sweetheart, you'll have taken a man's penis into your mouth. And tasted a man's cum. You'll be a man who has sucked cock. A cock sucker. No different from any other cock sucker, the same as Stacy in that regard. And that's what you'll always be from then on, the same as any girl would be who's ever gone down on a guy. You'll know it, and I'll know it! And I'll always know it, that my husband sucked on a cock until it spurted sperm into him. I'll remember every time I look at you! I'll also always know that I'm married to a man who'll do anything to please his wife! Who puts her desires above even his own! A real love!"

And she kissed me. I felt a little reassured. "I guess Bruce makes sense," I said judiciously. "He's had plenty of experience with this kind of thing, I suppose. Even with amateurs like me, I suppose."

"Don't worry about whether you'll do yourself proud, baby. You'll be fine! We'll work on it. You'll be ready when we decide to do it. I think he'll be willing."

The rest of the weekend was idyllic. Debbie was like a schoolgirl with a new fella, humming and prancing around the house. Each time she got a glimpse of me roaming about doing odd household repairs, or watering the house plants, or sitting at the computer entering figures in my sales log, she'd beam, obviously overjoyed just to be in my vicinity!. And I'd glow! And I tumbled in and out of bed with her, on and off, the whole weekend! And in bed her body was heavenly!

We were dieting, thinning down, so it didn't occur to us to celebrate our new relationship by going out to eat. All I remember about food during that weekend, and for the days that followed, was diet cottage cheese and unsweetened lemonade. And some diet pills of different kinds Debbie got from the drugstore to curb our appetites -- one of them made me feel so much better about myself that I almost didn't care much how hungry I was. Also the high moment of our dinner meal, a milkshake with very few calories that I found completely filling. She spooned the powder out of an unmarked jar into a blender, and told me that the recommended dose was one serving a day only, but that she'd already doubled the concentration to be sure I'd be well-nourished.

"Drink only one of these each day, honey," she warned me. "It's pretty rich. As it is you'll probably experience some pretty fierce mood swings, like sugar highs, maybe even acne problems, a few zits like when you were a teenager with your hormones raging. But it'll mellow you out, body and mind. It'll help you redistribute your weight. It's just the thing for that!"

I have to confess, now and then when I felt starved I did sneak in an extra milk shake. Each day, in fact! They made me feel dizzy at first, even a little nauseous. Not terribly sweet, but incredibly rich, I guess! Strong stuff. But the pounds started to melt off me and I felt just great!

By Monday morning I was thinner. "Not yet willowy," Debbie said, pleased at how loose my pants were. "But getting there! Thus far it's mostly loss of water. Like when I'm finishing my period -- I can lose four pounds overnight! But we'll keep it up."

I was in much better shape, too. She wanted me to burn off my incoming calories and tone up my body too while we were at it. No harm in that, so for exercise I joined her doing her aerobics tapes, then her jazzercize tapes, then a tape teaching slow moves like Tai Chi, all of them graceful, elegant, and delicate, feminine even down to the ways we draped our fingers. We did all three each morning on arising, and they were strenuous. We'd finish dripping wet, but I felt much more limber and lithe almost immediately! All of the movements were intended for women, I realized, with lots of the hip-thrusting and pelvic twisting that looks so wonderfully seductive when done by a curvy woman. And some swooping moves were exquisitely refined, and took lots of practice to get coordinated. All three had lots of limp-wristed, elbows-to-the-ribs moves that look so helpless when a girl does them. They're not as easy as you'd think, try them some time! All kinds of unaccustomed muscles come into play!

I couldn't keep up at first, until Debbie told me to quit thinking and clunking like a man, to just think of myself as fluid and graceful, to imitate the women on the tapes and go with the flow. "Be fey, sweetheart! You were worried about seeming to be a faggot? Be one! There's only me here! Be a really pouffe fairy!" I tried, and it worked. By the next session I'd learned how to flow intead of just step, how to loosen my arms to form captivating curves in the air when I danced, and how to tuck back my shoulder and toss my head in that fetching way girls have. Debbie was turned on by a lot of what I did. I seemed so much less boorish or brusque, so much more sensitive, she said, even in some ways endearingly coy. The choreographies seemed to reveal a side of me I hadn't wanted to let out before, one she found very attractive. True, all this was new, and I was feeling a little tentative about it all. Beginning to feel uncertain about other things too, in fact. Those mood swings from the milk shakes had kicked in, I supposed.

She thought I looked so sweet when she saw me taking dainty short steps instead of bold strides that she asked me to move that way all day, wherever I went. And the next day. And afterward. So I did. At first it felt a little femmy, but I got used to it. And if that was how I chose to move, that was that, whatever anyone else thought. None of their business! Debbie loved it! And I loved her!

We went to the movies together that Sunday night. By then I'd learned another trick the tape told me would tighten my stomach muscles, to walk by crossing one leg in front of the other with each step, pointing my toes straight ahead. It put a seductive wiggle into my hips, I noticed, but I got it down pretty well. I worried that I looked too much like Stacy when she'd waved at the camera with her ass, but Debbie told me it was subtle and expressive and good for my abs, a dancer's move, not to worry. So I didn't. Not even when after the movie, when we were crossing a gloomy parking lot in the dark, and a man coming the other way who could barely see us touched his hat and said, "Ladies" to reassure us he was no threat. He'd guessed that by the way our silhouettes moved. Debby was so amused she gave me a wonderfully reassuring hug, as if we were in fact close girlfriends sharing a secret. I suppose we were.

She found this new high-toned, more sensitive-seeming me so attractive that more than once we stopped running the exercise tape and made love right there on the floor, sweaty as we were. And again in the shower afterward. It was the loveliest weekend of my life, as was the week that followed. Debbie and I felt more deeply wedded to each other than at any time previously! I vowed to myself to give her whatever she wanted.


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