Memories - Cheating

We were in bed, talking, discussing my prior marriage, and something I said, something Emily picked up on, made her sit up, look at me. "Oh my god, she cheated on you," she said. "Duh, how could I have been so stupid."

"I thought I told you that...or at least implied it," I said.

"I don't know, I guess I just didn't...I'm so sorry," she said.

"It...it's okay," I said, blushing.

We talked about it, she asked about it, tenderly, and I explained how she cheated on my from the very beginning, how it eventually became not just cheating, but cuckolding. 

"She'd really do that?" Emily asked, "come home and make you...lick her?"

I nodded. "The worst thing is I started to look forward to it, like our sex life became her going out, coming home, and me licking her. She never admitted it, but we both knew."

"Why would you look forward to it?" Emily asked.

I shrugged. "I guess the humiliation turned me on. As cruel as she was, it still turned me on. I mean, I knew I couldn't please her, I got turned out fantasizing about a man pleasing her."

"Why?" she asked.

"I always have."

"Always? You always got turned on fantasizing about a man pleasing her?"

"Any woman," I shrugged.

She looked at me. "Wait, take a step back, how long has this been a fantasy?"

"Ever since I can remember," I said, "like always."

"Like you're always been turned on thinking of a woman, your woman, with a man?"

I nodded. "Always. I used to read these magazines. From Penthouse. Variations. They had stories about sissies and stories about...wife watching...cuckolding...they always turned me on."

"And so when she cheated..."

"It was my fantasies come to life," I said, "I always knew I was...that I never pleased her when we...did it, and it was like it just drove into fantasies I had since I was little."

"Why?"

"Why?"

"Why didn't you please her?"

"Emily...you know."

"I know, I just...I guess it's important for me to hear it."

"I'm...inadequate," I said.

"Inadequate?"

"Small...I've told you she said that...small and quick."

"It bothered her?"

"Obviously," I said. "She wanted a man, she had me, a latent...sissy."

"You know it doesn't bother me, right? I like you small and I like you quick. It makes you focus on my pleasure. I like you feminine."

"I know. And I did that with her, focused on her, but I guess she wasn't satisfied with that."

"I mean, she was cruel, yes, but all women like a well endowed man."

"All women?" I looked at her.

"All women, love. Don't get me wrong, I love your love making, and I'm usually satisfied with your style."

"Style? Usually?"

"Well, style, your mouth, of course, your god given talent. Most men I've been with treat going down on me as optional or, at best, something they do before the main act. For you, it's like it is the main act, like it's your speciality. Like you'd take that over anything."

She wasn't wrong. "Usually?" 

"I told you, all women want cock now and then."

"All women," I repeated.

"Have you ever..."

"What?" 

"Have you ever fantasized about me?"

"I always fantasize about you," I said.

"No, love, with men..."

I looked down, face red. "I mean I know you've been with men," I said.

She reached over, touched my penis through the panties I wore. "I have to spell it out, don't I? Have you ever fantasized about me with men? Have you ever thought of the men I've been with? You've met several, have you ever fantasized about them with me?"

"I...I don't know...maybe," I said.

"Maybe?"

"I...I suppose," I said.

"Who?"

I shrugged. "Jason...Craig...that one guy...Evan..."

"Evan," she smiled. She was rubbing me through my panties so I was kind of zoned out, it kind of wasn't fair. "What do you fantasize about?"

"The usual," I said.

"What's the usual? You're usual?"

"No, like...like stuff men do."

"And just what do men do?"

"You know, like..." I shrugged, "like blowjobs and stuff."

"Have you ever had one? A blowjob?"

"You've licked me," I said.

"Sweetie, that's not a blowjob, that's like, well, like you licking me. A blowjob is like...taking a man's cock in your mouth and sucking and licking and kissing, all hungry, until he explodes, and swallowing everything and...well...that's a blowjob. Not licking a pretty, panty covered penis. You've never had that, have you?"

I shook my head. "N...no," I said

"You fantasize about me doing that?"

"Y...yea," I said. "Have...have you?"

"Given a man a blowjob? Of course, silly."

"Like how many?"

"Times or men?" she asked. "Cause I doubt I can count how many times."

"M...men?"

"Well I've slept with ten men with cocks and one pretty boy with a little penis, so let's say eleven male partners..."

"And how many have you...given blowjobs to?"

"Of the eleven? Well not you, of course, so..." She feigned counting. "Ten."

"Everyone you've slept with?" I gasped. "You've given a blowjob to every guy you've slept with?"

She shrugged. "Guys like blowjobs," she said, "it's just a known thing."

I looked at her, at her mouth, pictured her lips around a man's cock, cock after cock. "Em..."

She rubbed me again, smiled. "You're thinking about it," she said.

I nodded, my eyes fluttered.

"Thinking about me doing that, not to you, but to the men I've been with, the one's you've met."

"Y...yea," I said.

"God, that's so hot," she giggled, "my pretty little boy thinking about me with cock in my mouth. You've fantasized about this before? Often?"

"Yes," I admitted.

"And you've fantasized about men fucking me?"

"Yes," I admitted again, "often."

She was quite for a moment, just rubbing me lightly. "What?"

"Have you ever," she bit her lip, "have you ever fantasized about that when we're...making love?" Her question shot through me; I couldn't believe she asked it and couldn't believe how shamed her words made me feel. "Sweetie?"

I couldn't even talk, instead just nodded.

"Often?"

I nodded again.

"Like all the time?"

"Em..."

"I just want to understand," she said.

I nodded again. "Like all the time," I said.

"Like every time we make love you fantasize about me with a man? Like every time?"

I looked at her, pained eyes, afraid she was mad, afraid she was horrified. "Like...like every time."

She looked at me, her eyes locked on mine; I looked away. "I just...I can't help it," I said, "ever since I was a kid, I had fantasies of...things like that. I always knew I was different, always knew I wasn't masculine, always knew I'd be inadequate. Like, even when I was a virgin, I knew."

"Oh, sweetie," she said, touching my face, "my poor sweetie."

The words kept coming. "It's hard to be a boy and just know you'll never be...a man," I blurted out. "I always knew I could never be a man."

"Why do you fantasize about me with men?"

"Because women like men," I said, "you said it yourself. And I have this need to...please. That's why I never said anything before, I was always like, she needs this, like I know I'm not good enough, she needs this. Her cheating on my just reinforced everything I thought about myself."

"But you hated her for it."

"She was cruel," I said, "she was cruel."

"And me?"

"You're not cruel," I said.

She thought for a moment. "And when we're together, what's going on in your head? What are you thinking about?"

"I don't know, jumbled thoughts," I said.

"Not a coherent fantasy?"

"Jumbled fantasies," I said, "like they jump all around."

"Tell me some," she said.

"Emily, it...it's embarrassing."

She'd stopped rubbing my panties, started again. Slowly, deliberately, just teasing me, pleasing me, making me hot. After a minute, maybe two, she said it again. "Tell me some," she said.

"I think about you giving a man a blowjob," I blurted out.

"You visualize it?" she asked.

I nodded. "You...you tell him how much you like it, his big, thick cock in your mouth."

"And?"

"When we...when I'm inside you, I hear you talking to me."

"Talking?" she asked.

"Telling...me things."

"Like?"

"Like...I don't know."

"Telling you what?"

"Like that...that you can't feel me...like I shouldn't worry about it...like I can go quickly...like it's okay, being inside you is for me, not you, that...that I should finish as fast as I can because you have a man who will take over."

"My god," she gasped.

"I told you, it's terrible."

"It's hot," she said.

"Hot?"

"So fucking hot," she said. "What else?"

"I fantasize about a man fucking you, watching, you looking at me, smiling, nodding, happy."

"My god..."

"I fantasize about you flirting with men, seducing men..."

"My god...what else?"

"I..." I looked down, afraid to say what just jumped into my mind.

"What else?" she asked.

"When I...go down on you...I pretend I'm...getting you ready for a man."

She gasped, I saw her hand, not the one on me, the other one, in her panties, touching herself. "And?" she asked, voice shaking.

"After...after we...make love...when I lick you I...I fantasize I'm licking you clean after a man's been with you."

She started moaning as she fingered herself, one hand down her panties another touching her nipple, what was in my panties forgotten. "When...you...lick...yourself...you...fantasize...it's...a...man?" Her voice was broken, lost.

"Yes," I admitted.

"You did that to her?"

I nodded. "Yes," I said.

"And you fantasize about doing that to me?"

"Yes," I said, "I'm sorry."

"Sorry? Oh, god, love, oh, god," she moaned. "That's so hot...I don't know if I'll ever be able to think of anything else, think of you picturing a man fucking me, knowing you're fantasizing about licking me clean."

"When...when I tell you my favorite thing in the world is licking you and worshipping you, when I tell you if I was never in you again, I mean it."

"And what if I wanted it?"

"Me licking you?"

"No, I always want that, I mean a man?" she asked.

I was shaking. "I...I let her."

"I mean me?" she asked.

"I...I don't know," I said, "I don't know."

"You're so adorable, love, so adorable."

"You...you prefer men?"

"Oh, sweetie, no, I prefer you...I like men...I love men...but I prefer you."