[NOTE - Anyone who is just beginning to read my blog might want to read the following early entries in my blog about my sissy journey before reading this latest entry: - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - – - - - - - - - - - - – - These are the previous posts that tell the story about my sissy journey.]
The good news? My blogs will continue. The news? Notice that I did not say, “I have good news, and I have bad news?” That is because I’m not sure how to characterize the second “news” just yet. Time will tell. The “news” is that, while I will continue to be responsible for creating the content for my blogs, in the future I am to expect “input” for things to post about. What does that mean? Well, I suppose it could evolve to some degree, but for now I will continue to choose photos and create sissy captions as I have always done. I have been told that I should not allow myself to feel inhibited about what I post knowing that my cheerleader and her quarterback will be reading my blogs. But what I have also been told is that I should expect continued “guidance” about things I post, just as I did last week when quarterback sent me text messages directing me to post about certain things, from either my cheerleader or her quarterback. We had a very open discussion about my blogs Saturday afternoon while quarterback was visiting us this weekend. One thing is clear to me – my cheerleader is slowly warming to the idea that I am blogging, although she is obviously being influenced by her quarterback, who seems to be thoroughly enjoying his discovery.
My first assignment? I have been told to relate the details of our weekend. I must admit that I feel different writing about my sissy life knowing my cheerleader and her quarterback will be reading what I write and how I describe events. Will they think I’m telling the story accurately? Or is my experiencing the events colored by my sissy nature, whereas they may see the event from a different perspective and find my version, well, just wrong? I suppose that is something I’ll learn as we progress in this new world I’m living in.
So, the weekend. Where to begin? If it is possible that I could feel more submissive, then this weekend created a new benchmark for me. As a sissy I’m naturally submissive. I’ve explained that in the past. But now that my cheerleader and her quarterback have discovered my sissy, well, confessions, I somehow feel even more subject to their control and authority. I wonder if my awareness of their inside knowledge of my sissy thinking affects how I behave in some way that I cannot sense? Regardless, I am telling you, I feel more submissive to them, and especially to him. It is like he has decided to impose his will upon me more than he already has since he learned I was a sissy who voluntarily stood by while he had his way with his ex-wife.
Earlier in the week quarterback sent me a message after I posted a photo on Tumblr of a pretty maid serving drinks, advising me that I would be spending the entire weekend like that. And, true to his word, he required me to be dressed at all times this weekend in my French maid uniform. He had seen me wear it before, but that had been at the suggestion of my cheerleader who was introducing him to the full gamut of my sissiness. The point, I think, of me being dressed as a sissy maid this weekend was to emphasize that I my role was solely to serve the two of them as they enjoyed a relaxing weekend with each other, never needing to lift a hand to receive anything they wanted.
I had to leave work Friday afternoon a little bit early so that I could arrive home in time to dress for quarterback’s arrival. My cheerleader had gone out for a mani-pedi that afternoon to help her get ready for her quarterback. I had yet to “read” her - to figure out how she was feeling about things now that her quarterback had discovered my publication of my sissy journey (our journey really). She was giving no clues to me Friday afternoon either. To the contrary, she was behaving much like she usually did when expecting a man to visit us, and especially her quarterback. What do I mean by that? Well, she was spending the time to prepare herself for an evening of giving herself to a man, and of being appreciated as a beautiful and sexual woman by a man, knowing her sissy husband was going to be present and lending support to her tryst, and not as a man. In any way. Her makeup was flawless and she wore several pieces of lovely jewelry.
Meanwhile, she had already set me up in the guest room for the weekend. Lying on my bed was my maid’s dress and the various items that I usually wore when dressed as a maid – a white bra, an open-bottomed girdle with garter straps, black silk stockings, a pair of white panties lined with rows of black lace, five-inch black paten leather high heels, an apron, a black headband with white lace, and a pearl necklace and bracelet and dangling clip-on pearl earrings. I showered and shaved and then dressed, careful to apply my bright red lipstick and mascara to highlight my lashes. How did I look? Completely sissy.
I went downstairs to prepare some hors d’oeuvres for my cheerleader and her quarterback. He was due to arrive around 6:30 and it was nearly 6:00 by then. When my cheerleader came downstairs I was stunned. She was dressed for an evening out. She wore a tight and form fitting sheath black dress with an a-line neck that dipped enough to reveal her cleavage. She was wearing her diamond necklace, tennis bracelet and earrings. Her hair was shiny and flowing down to her shoulders. Seeing the look on my face, she said, “Tom is taking me out to dinner for my birthday.” Oh! Yes. It was my cheerleaders “birthday weekend.” Of course her quarterback would do something special for her. “I see,” I said, my first moment of being reminded I was a secondary consideration in the triad that was our relationship. My cheerleader approached me and touched me on my cheek, “It’s going to be fine sweetie. We’ll still have my birthday just for us.” Her birthday is Monday, so the weekend would be her time with her quarterback. Monday would be our day.
A few minutes later the front doorbell rang. My cheerleader went with me to answer the door and to greet her quarterback. As I opened the door to him he entered, dressed in a dark blue suit, white shirt and lovely red and blue striped tie. He was carrying an overnight bag with his clothes for the weekend. He glanced at me, then his gaze swung to my cheerleader standing behind me. “Fuck! M!” he declared. “You look amazing!” I watched as the two of them moved into an embrace, my cheerleader draping her arms around his neck and kissing him full on his mouth, the two of them taking each other in for the first time of the weekend. As my cheerleader gave herself to him, their mouths locked onto each other, her quarterback moved his hands onto her ass, grabbed her and pulled her to him, possessively demonstrating ing his control over her. When they finally broke their kiss, my cheerleader said to me, “Sissy. Take Tom’s bag upstairs to our room. Then bring us drinks on the porch.” Embarrassed, I simply curtsied and replied, “Yes ma’am.”
After taking his bag to our bedroom, I went back downstairs and prepared drinks for them. The two of them were cuddled close to each other on our screened in porch at the rear of our house, a cozy sitting place nestled at the bottom of a steep sloped and terraced back yard garden. I placed their drinks and a tray of hors d’oeuvres for them to enjoy. They thanked me and then dismissed me to leave them to some privacy. I went back inside of the house and tried to keep myself occupied. I was reeling from the sudden news that they were going out for the evening to celebrate my cheerleader’s birthday. I had been given no early information on what the weekend would hold, but somehow I had it in my mind that they were going to be staying at our house all weekend.
After a short time together on the porch, my cheerleader and her quarterback returned to the house. It was apparent they were about to leave. Quarterback said, “I don’t know how late we’ll be Leeanne.” Fuck! He used my name again! It felt so weird to be called my chosen sissy name by my wife’s ex-husband, especially with her on his arm as they were about to go out for the evening. “Please have our bed turned back and a bottle of wine in our room for when we return. Stay in uniform though, in case we need your services later.” He actually smiled when he uttered that command. Fuck again! He was so comfortable talking to me as if I was their servant. Is this how the weekend was going to go? I wondered. And yes. It was, in fact, an early indication of how I was going to be treated for the weekend. “Yes sir,” I replied. “Have a lovely evening,” I told them as I opened the door to let them out. Looking out front, I noticed he had driven his silver Porsche 911 Carrera. I watched as he opened the door for my cheerleader so she could slide into her seat. He waved at me standing at the door as he opened his own door and dipped inside, driving off with my wife for an evening out together while I sat home alone, dressed as a sissy maid, waiting for their return.
This wasn’t the first time I’ve spent evenings alone while my cheerleader went out with men. And while it wasn’t unlike other evenings that I spent home alone waiting for her return, this evening somehow felt different to me since I knew the two of them now had seen inside of my sissy fantasies in a way I’d never let anyone in my physical life know about. All of my Internet friends knew. But no one else. Time slowed to a crawl for me as I waited for their return. I had already followed quarterback’s instructions to turn their bed back and to leave a bottle of wine next to their bed. I passed the time watching baseball on television and posting on Tumblr, posts that I now knew would be viewed by my cheerleader’s quarterback and, possibly, her, although I did not think she was watching my Tumblr as closely as quarterback was. Tumblr is simply not something she is into. Thus, every post of a “sissy” sucking a cock, especially a bbc, felt like me confessing to them my darkest fantasies to submit to a bbc. Every post of a “sissy” on her back, legs spread, accepting a cock inside of her, felt like a confession that I wanted that for myself or for my cheerleader. And with each post I remembered how my cheerleader’s quarterback had taunted me last weekend about arranging for me to experience a bbc. What else might he do to get inside of my sissy psyche?
It was nearly midnight when I heard the front door lock click and my cheerleader and her quarterback returned home. As they entered my cheerleader called out, “Sissy? We’re home.” Interesting, I thought. My cheerleader was still referring to me as, “Sissy,” while her quarterback was intentionally calling me “Leeanne.” I greeted them in the front hall, “Did you have fun?” She laughed and said it was wonderful. They’d gone out to dinner and then out for drinks at a Jazz club afterward. I asked if I could get them anything and quarterback said, “We’re going to bed. Come up with us.” They walked upstairs together, me following, the loud clacking of my wife’s and my high heels on the stairs creating, at least in my sissy mind, an ominous march of femininity on its way to the ultimate goal of the evening – my cheerleader giving herself to her quarterback – everything leading up to this moment was just foreplay.
Seeing the wine on the night table, quarterback told me to open the wine for them. After opening the bottle I poured them each a glass and handed it to them. They toasted and he said, “Happy birthday baby.” She smiled, sipped her wine, and said, “Thank you,” me standing by, the thoughts swirling around in my sissy mind so mixed and confusing that I could barely sort them out. Then, quarterback sat down in a chair in the corner of our room, his glass of wine still in hand, and said, “Undress your wife for me Leeanne.” I hesitated a split second, glancing at her to see her reaction. She actually blushed. “Go on Leeanne. Undress her for me.” Fuck! It was beginning! I had been wondering how I would be used. Now it was being revealed to me. I curtsied, unsure if that was something he would want, and I saw him smile as I did so, then said, “Yes sir.”
Turning to my cheerleader, I turned her back to me and reached to unzip her form fitting dress. Taking hold of the black fabric at her shoulders, I peeled it off and helped her wriggle out of it, then stooping to help her step out of the dress. I laid it on another chair by her quarterback. She was wearing the prettiest and sexiest white lace lingerie. She was facing her quarterback, me behind her, and I could see the lust in his eyes as he took her in. “Remove her bra Leeanne,” he told me. I unclasped her bra and, as I did, she let her arms drop just a bit and shrugged it off, allowing it to fall forward and into my hands. She now stood before her quarterback, as if presenting herself to him for his approval. Again, his eyes told me he approved wholeheartedly. “Her panties Leeanne.” My cheerleader had worn her panties over top of the garter belt that held up her black silk stockings. I slipped my fingers inside the delicate waistband of her pretty French-cut panties and tugged them over her hips and then to the floor, helping her step out of them. She now stood before her quarterback wearing only her jewelry, garter belt and stockings, and high heels.
I could not tell you what my cheerleader was thinking when this disrobing occurred. She certainly was showing no signs of resistance, or even discomfort. I, on the other hand, felt so small and humiliated to be submitting to the commands of her quarterback to present my wife to him. And yet, I could no more have refused than fly to the moon. Quarterback beckoned my cheerleader to come to him. She took the few steps forward necessary for her to be within his reach. As she got near him his hand reached up to graze her bare ass cheeks, and he slowly moved his had around until he was just barely touching her smoothly shaved slit, me standing just a few feet away as he possessed my wife. She audibly sighed as he slipped his finger inside of her for just the briefest moment. “I think someone is excited,” quarterback said as he licked his finger that had just been inside her.
He looked at me. “On your knees Leeanne.” Fuck! What was he up to? Without a word, I dipped to my knees as he had commanded. He pointed to a spot just in front of him, and so I crawled the few feet that separated me from my cheerleader, who stood close to him, and her quarterback. I was then positioned in front of quarterback, my cheerleader to my right. I watched as he stroked and teased her pussy with his fingers, her legs slightly open to permit him access to her slit. I felt so embarrassed and small and humiliated as the man who took my wife’s virginity demonstrated his complete possession of her, me kneeling before them dressed in a frilly French maid’s outfit. Quarterback, though stroking my cheerleader, was looking right at me and I could not meet his stare, my head and eyes dropping submissively toward the floor. “Kiss your wife Leeanne,” he told me. I looked up at him, and then began to stand, but he interrupted me, “No! Here!” he clarified, indicating her pussy. I looked at him, and then my cheerleader. “Kiss her,” he said firmly. I leaned over and, as quarterback continued to stroke her now glistening wet pussy, I kissed her softly on her mound. As I pulled back, quarterback said, “Lick her Leeanne.” Fuck! He had never been this firm and controlling before. I felt totally weak and lost to his command. I leaned in close to my cheerleader and licked her slit from bottom to top. She was sooo wet! As I went to lick her again, she stepped one leg slightly to the side, opening herself up to me, and her quarterback’s fingers, a little more. I licked her some more and could hear her breathing rate increase.
Trying to describe how I felt as I kneeled in front of my cheerleader and her quarterback, licking her pussy as her quarterback stroked her wet slit, is impossible. I felt so turned on and yet, so humiliated that I so willingly submitted to his command. But if I felt humiliated then, it was nothing compared to what he ordered me to do next. “Okay Leeanne. Enough. Remove my shoes and pants.” I stopped, realizing that quarterback had more plans. Without a word, I slipped first one, then the other, of his shoes off of his feet. I then pulled off his socks. As he looked down at me, his thighs open before me so that I was staring at his crotch, I could see his bulge between his legs. He was watching me with an interest that confused me. It was as if he was wondering, ‘Can I push her too far? How far will she go for me?’ My fingers visibly trembling, I reached to his belt and unbuckled it, then unsnapped his pants and unzipped him. I looked up to him for some assistance and he lifted up from the chair enough for me to tug his pants down. I pulled them off of his legs and then looked up to see his cock tenting up his boxer shorts. My cheerleader was watching me intently, his fingers continuing to stroke her pussy. As I hesitated, he said, “Pull them off Leeanne.”
I pulled his boxers off and his thick cock sprang free, bouncing upward as his hardness was revealed to me and my cheerleader. She gasped audibly. I was simply in awe at his massiveness. Quarterback was turned on by what was happening. “Worship it Leeanne. Show us how much you love cock. We know you think about cock all of the time. Now show us.” Fuck! I was crushed under the weight of the humiliation he was bringing down on me. On my knees, my wife standing by my side watching as her quarterback continued to finger her, he was ordering me to show them how much I loved cock – to “worship” his dick. I reached forward and touched him, feeling him react to my touch. He was soft and hard and thick and hot. Then, I licked his tip. Then, kissed it. I wanted his cock. So much. I wanted to take it in my mouth and suck it. Hard. To make him cum. I wanted him badly. But he’d told me to worship it. And so, I restrained myself, carefully licking, kissing, caressing him as I attempted to do what he’d told me to do – to worship his cock. While my wife watched. To say I became lost in the act is not quite true. I was not. I was completely aware of what was happening and that I was being watched. Intently. Then his words interrupted me. “Suck my balls Leeanne.” Fuck! He was pushing me and pushing me. I lifted his cock with my fingers to gain access to his balls. I dipped my mouth beneath his scrotum and, at first, licked his balls. Then I opened my mouth as wide as possible and took his full ballsack into my mouth, my cheeks bulging as I filled my mouth with his sack. As I did my cheerleader cried out, “Oh my!,” as if she could not believe I’d done it. They were so big and full and heavy. Despite the humiliation I felt, I also loved it!
I was sucking quarterback’s balls softly, letting them roll around inside of my wet mouth when he told my wife to sit on him. Uh huh. At his command, my cheerleader swung her left leg over top of me and, as I kneeled beneath her quarterback, my mouth stuffed full of his balls, she settled onto his hard cock, facing him, my face right behind her ass. As she lowered herself onto him she whimpered, “Oh fuck! Fuck! You’re so hard Tom! So big!” Her quarterback replied, “Thank your sissy.” As if she was also completely at his command, she said, “Thank you baby.” And then she began riding him. Rolling her pussy around on his cock. Lifting. Settling. Rocking and gyrating. And each time she settled at the base of his cock, her ass crack was pressed against my face. I continued to suck his balls as my cheerleader fucked him. I felt smaller and weaker and more submissive than I ever had in the past. I could feel the two of them as they were reaching their climax, especially quarterback, and then the inevitable eruption occurred and she sat down hard on him, his full, thick, hard cock impaling her as deeply as possible and I could feel his sperm being pumped from his ballsack as he filled my cheerleader’s pussy with his cream. Cum was leaking out of her pussy already, down onto his ballsack and into my mouth. After a few minutes, he let his cock slip out of her, still big, full, plump, and covered in sperm, slapping me on my face beneath them.
Without giving me a second to consider resisting he said, “Clean my cock Leeanne.” I let his balls slip out of my mouth and took his cock inside, tasting my cheerleader’s cum mixed with his sperm. As I licked and sucked him, his sperm continued leaking from my cheerleader’s pussy down onto his cock, replenishing the cum I was cleaning off of him. I licked and sucked until he was completely clean and he finally said, “That’s enough Leeanne.” I let him fall free from my sore jaws, relieved to some extent, but, if I’m honest, still wanting him. He told my cheerleader to get in the bed. She crawled off of him and did as he told her. Quarterback stood up then, towering over me with his cock hanging just above my face. I felt small and weak and impotent, even though my clitty was hard as a rock inside of its chastity cage. He dismissed me with little fanfare, “Goodnight Leeanne. You can go to bed now. We’re watching Wimbledon in bed tomorrow. I’ll let you know when to serve breakfast.” And at that point, I left them to go to my guest room and not sleep. There was no way I could sleep after what had just happened, although I eventually did.
I’m posting this now, because quarterback told me I was taking too long. The rest of the weekend will be posted later.