Evan - Gift
The time before she goes to see him is so intense...so intense...
She struck a pose, told me to take a picture of her wearing white lingerie that evoked innocence, bridal, virginal. "Why?" I asked, taking the picture.
"To send to him," she said, "to show him what he's getting on Monday."
"I'll send it to you," I said, assuming she was going to send it.
"No, love, I want you to send it."
"Me?"
"To show him what you're giving him."
I swallowed. "Em..."
"To show him you know what you're missing, what I can give to a man."
"God, Emily..." I looked at the picture, at her, at the picture. "You look like a bride," I said.
"Maybe I should wear a veil," she smiled, "just to reinforce the mood."
"You're not his wife," I said, almost defensively.
"No, no I'm not," she said, "I'm your wife; I'll always be your wife. But I give myself to him. We give me to him. All these years, there have been two constants in my life. Sara, my loving sissy and Evan, my man."
"There...there were years..."
"And I missed it," she said, "no one else was like him."
"At first you said...you said he just tucked you in," I said.
"You always liked the tease," she said. "I remember telling you once about him massaging me, touching me, telling me if I didn't stop him he wouldn't start. I remember excited you got hearing about his fingers inside me then his cock inside me."
"God, Emily..."
"You send me to him again and again. Then. Now."
"I thought you were...just fantasizing," I said.
"Back then? At first? Knowing I knew you fantasize, you really thought I was going to spend the weekend with a man I used to sleep with and nothing would happen?"
I looked down. "N...no," I said.
"No, love, no."
"I...I always thought...I mean..."
"You knew."
I nodded. "I knew."
"You were giving me to him even then. You knew."
"I knew."
"You're giving me to him now."
I nodded.
"Tell him. Show him."
I swallowed, composed a simple text.
I have something to show you.
He responded after a few minutes. What?
My gift...to you... I attached the picture, sent it.
It took a minute but he responded. She looks innocent, virginal, like a bride.
That's what she thought...we both thought.
I waited for text bubbles, but there were none. Instead Emily's phone dinged; she picked it up, read, smiled.
"What?" I asked.
She said nothing, typed. Her phone dinged again. Back and forth.
"Emily..."
Finally she showed me.
Too bad we weren't together on your wedding night, it would have been a night to remember.
I remember it well; it was an amazing night.
I'm sure...for a cock free wedding night.
She has a talented tongue.
How long until you actually consummated your marriage?
Awhile...
And you didn't miss it? Cock? On your wedding night?
Maybe...
You didn't think about it?
Maybe...but I was with the one I love.
I've no doubt...but you still thought about it.
So?
We'll re-live it Monday, Emily, the new bride, paying a visit to her lover because the one she married isn't...up the the task.
You're bad, Evan.
I'll show you what your wedding night could have been.
Promises, promises...
I keep my promises...every one.
I looked up from phone. "God, Emily," I said. "Did you miss it? On our wedding night?"
"Our wedding night was everything I wanted it to be."
"And if he was there?" I asked.
She shrugged. "That talented tongue of yours would have been put to good use after he was done."
The room felt smaller after she said it. My cheeks burned, but my cock twitched hard inside its cage and the soft pink panties I was wearing under my clothes. Emily noticed, of course. She always noticed.
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“After he was done,” she repeated softly, almost tenderly. “That’s the part that gets you, isn’t it, Sara?”
I couldn’t speak. I just nodded.
She kissed my forehead, then my lips, slow and sweet, the way a wife kisses her husband. Then she pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes.
“Monday is going to be different,” she whispered. “I want you there. Not just sending pictures. Not just waiting at home like before. I want you in the room.”
My stomach flipped. “Em… I don’t know if—”
“You do know,” she cut in gently. “You’ve always known. You used to beg me for the details, remember? Every little sound I made, every time he made me cum harder than you ever could. You’d stroke that pretty little thing while I told you how deep he went, how full he made me feel.”
She slid one hand down my chest, over my stomach, and cupped the front of my pants. I was aching.
“This time,” she continued, “you’re going to watch. You’re going to see what a real wedding night looks like when the bride actually gets fucked the way she needs. You’re going to kneel right there beside the bed in your prettiest outfit and hold my hand while Evan takes what’s his.”
I let out a shaky breath. “What… what if I can’t handle it?”
“You can,” she said, smiling that soft, knowing smile. “Because you love me. And because deep down you love this too. You love giving me to him. You love knowing I’m his when I need to be.”
Her phone dinged again. She glanced at it and laughed lightly, showing me the screen.
Evan: Tell your little sissy husband I said thank you for the preview. Can’t wait to unwrap the real gift. Make sure he dresses up nice for us on Monday. White. Something delicate. He can watch me ruin his bride.
Emily looked back at me, eyes sparkling with mischief and something deeper, something warmer.
“See? He already knows you’ll be there. He wants you there. And so do I.”
She set the phone down and slowly sank to her knees in front of me, her white lingerie brushing against my legs. Her fingers worked my zipper open with practiced ease.
“Let me show you how grateful I am for my sweet, generous husband,” she murmured, freeing my small, caged cock. “Before I spend all day Monday getting stretched and filled by a real man.”
Her mouth was warm, wet, perfect. She took me in slowly, eyes never leaving mine, and for a moment it almost felt like she was worshipping me. But we both knew the truth.
This was just the appetizer.
Monday was the main course.
And I was going to be right there, dressed in delicate white, watching my wife become Evan’s bride all over again… while my tongue waited its turn.
She pulled off for just a second, lips glistening, and whispered:
“Tell me you want it, Sara. Tell me you want to watch him fuck your wife on our wedding night fantasy.”
I swallowed hard, voice cracking.
“I… I want it.”
She smiled, proud and loving, and took me back into her mouth.
“Good girl,” she murmured around me.
And just like that, the countdown to Monday began.
Sara, that was something else. You, Emily, Evan… I’m sweating just imagining I was you right now.
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