Saturday, July 30, 2016
Friday, July 29, 2016
Pride And Joy
Does sissy’s wife’s boyfriend need to hold sissy’s mouth onto his cock? Of course not! She has been well trained to submit to and please him, or whomever her wife requires her to submit to and please. But does he like to hold her head down? Ready to force her sissy mouth the last few painful inches as all of his cock penetrates her sissy throat with his thick cock? Yes. He does. And sissy has nothing to say about it. Her only role is to submit and please. She’s a good sissy and her wife is proud of her.
Pride And Joy
Does sissy’s wife’s boyfriend need to hold sissy’s mouth onto his cock? Of course not! She has been well trained to submit to and please him, or whomever her wife requires her to submit to and please. But does he like to hold her head down? Ready to force her sissy mouth the last few painful inches as all of his cock penetrates her sissy throat with his thick cock? Yes. He does. And sissy has nothing to say about it. Her only role is to submit and please. She’s a good sissy and her wife is proud of her.
Thursday, July 28, 2016
Wednesday, July 27, 2016
Tuesday, July 26, 2016
Monday, July 25, 2016
Wednesday, July 20, 2016
Tuesday, July 19, 2016
Thursday, July 14, 2016
Reprieve!
I've been granted one. Honestly, this past week has been emotionally draining beyond description. I find myself unable to communicate thoughts and feelings. I asked my cheerleader if I could delay reporting the rest of the details of this past weekend with her and her quarterback. She checked with him and he agreed to give me some down time. But I will return and post soon. Kisses to all who have offered their encouragement to me. I love you all.
Tuesday, July 12, 2016
I Have Good News. And News.
[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: A Little More Background - Am I Sure I Should Do This? - I'm Afraid - These - Where It All Started - Then, These - Miss Flo - Caught For The First Time - About My Last Post - Bikini Panties!!! - A Virgin Bride (And Groom) - Exhausted Sissy Needs Stress Relief! - Sissy Marries Cheerleader - Sissy Makes Life With Cheerleader - Cheerleader Discovers Sissy - Cheerleader Accepts Sissy - Cheerleader And Sissy Grow - Cheerleader Asserts Control - Cheerleader Teases Sissy - Cheerleader And Sissy Settle In To New Home - Cheerleader Cucks Sissy - Cheerleader and Sissy Are Mentored - Sissy Offers Context For Cheerleader - Sissy Sees Her Future - Sissy Adapts To Chastity - Sissy And Cheerleader Spend A Weekend Apart – Our Weekend Apart Aftermath – Cheerleader Has A Heart-To-Heart With Sissy - Sissy And Cheerleader's Last Weekend With Andrea - Part One - Sissy And Cheerleader's Last Weekend With Andrea - Part Two - Cheerleader Thanks Sissy - Cheerleader Does A Sleepover - How My Cheerleader Vets Men - Cheerleader Flirts - With Purpose - Cheerleader Is A Happy Girl - Cheerleader Learns – Juggling Isn’t Easy - Cheerleader Gets An Itch - My Cheerleader's Summer of Contentment – My Cheerleader and Her Quarterback - Cheerleader and Sissy Reach Accord (And Satisfaction) - Sissy Catches Up, Cheerleader Goes Sailing - Discovered! - It Was Bound To Happen Sooner Or Later - Quarterback Discovers Leeanne. These are the previous posts that tell the story about my sissy journey.]
Friday
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.
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