Is your fantasy partner red/green colorblind?

Is your fantasy partner red/green colorblind?

***

I startled awake, the house completely dark. It’s night time? Dream Charlie had said twelve hours of oral sex, but I thought he was exaggerating!

My hand felt a pulse under the palm, warm, sticky fluid spurting up my forearm. My wife just came… Wife?

The cum on my hand drew my attention to my own burning core. That dream really had left me hot and bothered! Really bothered. Lips were swallowed by my wet pussy, the friction of lifting my hips enough to make me quiver. “Ungh!” I gasped, dropping my hips back down.

Fuck, these sweats are flooded. This is not the first time he’s cum… I mused, hand gripping the soft pillar and rubbing it with its own cum. Post orgasm dick was the best. All the length, none of the rigidity.

I rocked my hips across his lips, **** to feel some sensation. Mommy certainly delivered on the frustration. You’re not worth it! the echo of Mommy’s voice—my voice—rang in my ears. I was worth it. Right?

He exhaled, lips flapping against mine in such a way that I involuntarily humped against his face. “Oh, fuck!” I need to get off him. But I’m so—hump—fucking—hump—horny! This was a painful arousal. Charlie did not edge me. Mary didn’t have the restraint to edge me. The last time I was edged intentionally and this badly, I broke up with my boyfriend and fucked his best friend.

Once again, I felt like a wild animal. Nothing but urges and instincts. God, how fucking pathetic was this? Was I so fucked up that I couldn’t resist the pulse of my pussy?

Our relationship was in such a horrid place that he was willing to take my womb without so much as asking. And why the fuck would he have asked? I wasn’t worth a conversation.

I was so unworthy of a conversation, that even I decided that talking was less important than filling my stomach with milk and humping a face while I slept. My three priorities were sleep, sex, and sustenance. Just like a fucking animal. I didn’t even seem to care if he was involved. He had wanted to talk. He wanted to be mature, but I just trapped him on the couch with no consideration for his feelings and-and—oh, my God! Dream Charlie was right! I am rapey!

But every time I tried to pull myself off him, the string of grool would drip in such a way that made me slam back down and grind. He was never going to know. I was never going to be able to tell him. Even if I rolled off him right now and woke him, he’d never listen to me. I wasn’t worth talking with.

But right now, he was stuck. Right now he couldn’t leave me. My hand reached up, pinching my nipple, which sent a squirt of milk shooting out. I’d do it now. Maybe I was a pathetic animal, but he was in the cage with me right now. He was at my mercy.

I shook my hips, moaning as my hand around his cock kept stroking his limp, shivering cock. “Wake up.” I commanded. Feeling no response, I lifted my hips, dropping them back down harshly, transitioning into jerking off. He wouldn’t try anything while I held his dick. “Wake up, damnit!” I ordered, his cock sputtering once more.

Such big loads… he must’ve been saving up all weekend because he’s not a sex crazed animal who masturbates three times a day.

He inhaled sharply, giving a grunt of confusion. He was awake now. I pounded my hips down, feeling his tongue slither back into his mouth. “You’re mine, damnit! You’re gonna listen and if you wanna leave after that, then fine! But until I’m done, you are mine!” I started grinding my pubis into his chin, forcing his lips to move against me. He was trying to talk, trying to yell, actually, but I just took the vibrations and continued.

“First of all, I bought a video game.” I hissed, happening to find a really good angle on his chin that rubbed my clit nice. “It’s called Portal. I’m sorry for not taking an interest in your hobbies before, but I want you to teach me how to play it because it looks fun and I want to spend time with you.” He yelled again, hands trying to push against my legs, but he was too weak.

“Second of all, I’m getting promoted. Yeah, fuck yeah, keep fucking yelling! Guh! I’m gonna be a CFO! It’s so close to my goal, and I want you to be proud of me because honestly, I still feel weird about you paying for grad school and I’m scared that if I’m not progressing you wasted your money on me. But I know you probably fucking hate me for being successful because I rub it in your face more than this fucking pussy!” I took in a couple of sharp breaths, quickening my pace. “And because it keeps me away from home, which neatly takes me to:

“Three! I work from home now. Permanently. And you have a spot next to me for any business trips. The company’s moving to New York, so we’ll go see all the shows you fucking want—some tongue would help!

“Four—fuck you cum a lot and your dick feels so big—this fertility pill shit. Fuck you! No, really, Fuck you!” I violently assaulted his mouth for a few seconds to convey my anger, which also succeeded in bringing me closer to the orgasm I’d so awfully been denied. His fingers wrapped around my thighs, tapping away with an odd, irregular pattern. “We said no kids!” I added, tightening my grip around his dick, which just made it shoot out of my hand from all the slippery cum.

“But your plan worked. Fuck you. I’m awful—guh!—I deserve it, but fuck you. I’m not slaving away on lingerie, or sexy shower shows, or lowering my head and begging for affection any longer. You got your evil ****, we’re even, now. Oh and don’t ever respond to one of my nudes with ‘NO’, do you understand me?” I was getting close. Once I came, this was over. I was letting him go.

N-A-N-T

The letters raced through my mind as I sucked in air, my diaphragm tensing. I didn’t know their source, but it seemed so weird to come to mind at a time like this. I repositioned myself, sitting straight up and making quick, short, brushing motions, his irregularly tapping fingers adding some stimulation as he stopped yelling, denying me the vibrations.

“Lastly, your plan didn’t actually work.” N. “I’m stupid and had some wine.” O. “I know you said not to. Stupid story.” T. “Point is, I’m not as good of a person as you, ok?” P. “I will raise a kid if that’s what you really want.” R. “But you’re sticking around and it’s not gonna be this kid I fucked u—“

Was this morse code? Since when do I know morse code? My humping slowed slightly as I focused on his tapping fingers. E.

N-A-N-T-N-O-T-P-R-E?

No, it wasn’t morse code. That was nonsense. Besides, Charlie had tried to teach me once at a museum and it just sailed right over my head. Why would I suddenly be able to speak morse code with fingers on my thighs?

G.

N-A-N-T-N-O-T-P-R-E-G.

“Stop that.” I quickened my pace. “You’re distracting me.”

N.

I tried ignoring his fingers, so close to my orgasm. My clit throbbed, my nipples shooting pulses of lightning with each spurt of milk. I was so close.

A.

N.

T.

N-A-N-T-N-O-T-P-R-E-G-N-A-N-T.

I understood ‘pregnant.’ But what the fuck did ‘Nantnot’ mean? “I don’t know what Nantnot means, ok? Just let me cum and then you can—“

N-O-T

N-O-T

“Not? Not what?” My core tightened. Here it was. The big finish. The orgasm to probably destroy my marriage. “Pregn—“

I straightened my legs from the shock, sending me flying off his face. I had completed a complete leap off the couch, landing on my ass on the hard wood floor, taking a lamp down with me. Charlie gasped as if he’d been on the verge of suffocating or drowning, lungs wheezing and crackling. “Not pregnant!” He coughed, his voice higher, hoarse.

My heart skipped a beat. I stared through the darkness, trying to see his face. Trying to see if this was another trick or a joke. “You’re not pregnant!” He repeated, louder, but more emotional. “I swear!”

“My feet are swollen!” I yelled back, panting, forgetting entirely the burning need unfulfilled between my legs. “My ring doesn’t fit. I’m sweating non-stop, craving the weirdest food, and I’M FUCKING LACTATING!” He wasn’t tricking me this time. This was the equivalent of him walking in on me and Mary. There was no more denial. There was no more mystery. I had him dead to rights and trying to still play the con was fucking insulting.

“Turn on a light.” He said, voice wavering. “I-I’ll prove it.”

“I just smashed the lamp.” I said, carefully rolling away from the broken glass before attempting to stand.

“Can you get to the kitchen?”

“I wanted an Alexa.”

“Love of my life, please.” He didn’t sound quite like himself. Was he practicing his girl voice for that little roleplay we did before I left? I knew he said he wanted to maybe start transitioning, but it hadn’t even been a week.

I didn’t answer, just walked through the darkness, kneeling down next to the couch. “Do not fuck with me right now.” I wagged my finger at his face, barely able to make out the general shape of it.

His dainty hand grabbed my wrist tenderly. “Yours.” He said, pulling my hand down as he free one lifted the sweatshirt up. My hand was filled with firm, smooth flesh that bounced at my touch. I almost recoiled in surprise.

Boobs. I was holding boobs. My other hand reached down and together my hands squeezed and molested them. These did not feel fake. Well, they felt fake, but not like an external prosthetic. These were warm. There was no seam at his collar bone. They didn’t feel like sex toys, they felt like some big fake tits. The fat, bulging nipples had small metal bumps flanking each one, indicating piercings. I love nipple piercings…

No, this was another trick! I shot to my feet and darted for the kitchen. My foot catching on the arm of the loveseat, I was sent tumbling forwards and crashing into the ground. “Careful, love.” Charlie called out. “Are you—“

“Don’t fucking move!” I shouted, clambering to my feet and bounding in the direction of a light switch, using the blue numbers of the oven clock to guide me. My foot kicked a bottle of something, sending the container bouncing around the kitchen.

“What was that?”

“Fucking Dayquil.” I answered, kicking the bottle again, this time intentionally. It bounced off the pantry and went sliding out into the dining room. I reached the wall next to the oven, groping around for the switch, suddenly bathing the room in warm light. I flipped the switch for the dining room, too, which together should have had no trouble illuminating the living room enough to see the trick.

I turned my head to the couch. The back of it blocking my view of Charlie entirely. My heart was racing. Right now, I could just have this fantasy. Charlie lying there with big, bolted on tits and pierced nipples. But once I walked around the couch, the illusion would be broken.

I started taking slow, cautious steps. Not just because of the broken lamp, but because I wanted to have the fantasy a little longer. Once I saw the trick, we’d have our fight. But right now, I just wanted to live in a different world. A nicer world. A sexier world.

My foot kicked an empty container down the hall. “Milk carton.” I preemptively quelled Charlie’s concern. Did I manage to actually put anything on the counter, earlier?

I walked up to the back of the couch and paused for a moment. If we survive the next fight, I promised myself, I’m buying him tits.

I leaned forward and my heart skipped a beat. It was the same feeling I got when I first saw another girl naked. My eyes went straight to his chest, though I never would have imagined it was Charlie. Big, round, perfect and perky tits sat high and proud with a symmetrical bell shape atop his ribs. The fatty nipples were also just perfect. They had a definitive and bulging areola and both jutted outwards. Each of them sported pink barbells on the ends, the actual erect nipples standing out proud.

Too perfect. All of it was too perfect. I sucked in a breath, realizing I hadn’t taken one, and tilted my head to see their undersides. No scar. “You expect me to believe that you found and paid for a surgeon to give you implants that healed in less than five days without me knowing?” I locked my elbows to prevent my lips from latching onto one of his nipples.

“I don’t.” He said, stomach shaking. He lost weight. And his skin looked so smooth. He must’ve gotten it waxed right before I showed up… “The truth is much, much, harder to believe.”

I managed to pull my eyes off his body just to look him in the eyes. He got really good with makeup. His face looked softer, smoother, a little rounder. Covered in slick juices at his chin and swollen lips. Still definitely him, but decidedly more feminine. All while looking completely natural. That’s what fifteen years teaching theater gets you. I reminded myself his experience with makeup and prosthetics.

“This is a really good show, Charlie. I hope you save these props…” I mused, tracing back over his body. They really did look like real fake tits. The best I’d ever seen, actually.

My gaze traveled lower, to the gray sweatpants around his waist. Really good show… the dark spot indicating the cum soak covered most of the pants. His loads felt bigger with my horny brain, sure, but this was an absurd sight. If all that was cum, it would have killed him of dehydration. Not to mention the bulge.

Charlie was perfectly average. Mary made me act like it was small, and sure I enjoyed bigger toys, but his penis had always been of a perfectly reasonable and serviceable size. So I knew that whatever was making that imprint on those pants, it was not his dick. It almost looked like…

Yeah, that’s probably what he did. Strap on with my seven inch dildo. I thought, ignoring how real it had felt in my hands. I reached down and grabbed the sticky waistband with a squish. Charlie obligingly planted his feet on the soaked cushion and lifted his hips, letting me tug it down to his knees. The position let the dildo swing down, head resting against his tummy, cum drooling from the foreskin.

Definitely not my dildo. Too floppy and wasn’t circumcised. Not to mention the huge balls. And where was the strap? All I could see was the cum soaked lace of a pair of my nice panties. I couldn’t help but lick my lips at the sight of the thing limply slipping down his hip as he lowered himself back down. It certainly was not his actual penis. The panties must’ve been hiding the strap. But it was a very good strap to hold something that big while staying so out of the way.

Whatever he paid to make this fantasy for even just these few minutes, it wasn’t enough. I would give away whatever raise I was about to get to indulge in this every day. I’d even let him win our argument if he kept doing this. Forget CFO, forget New York. If his one condition for me getting this was a brat, then fine.

I reached for the panties, but his hand suddenly grabbed my wrist. He didn’t have the strength to stop me, but I let him. “You need to be very gentle.” He said, confirming my suspicion: the trick was under here. Maybe if I ruined it, it would break this spell he had over me. “And stand over there.” He pointed to the end of the couch his legs were at.

For once, I was the one whimpering. My bottom lip was pinned between my teeth and I was filled with that primal need to own. To take.

I stepped over, Charlie releasing my hand to flip over, standing on his hands and knees. My mouth watered, watching his limp, oversized cock dangle between his thin thighs, a long strand of white beading, dropping, and thinning on its way to the cushion.

The panties made his slim butt look amazingly tight. I wanted to spank it, bury my face in it have a fucking meal. But “gentle,” he told me. Always gentle… My hand shook as it reached over, fingers hooking on the waistband. There was some bulky bulge pressing into the fabric from inside.

My heart beat, slowing my pull. I wanted to remove them slowly, trying to imagine what that shape could be. A butt plug? Anal beads? A dildo, maybe? I thought I’d destroyed our chances of ever doing anal again…

My breath became shallow as his smooth crack came into view. From this angle, with the arched back, the panties… why, if not for the fat cock, he’d pass for the hottest woman I’d slept with.

Hottest man isn’t so bad an honor.

I peeled the sticky panties down his ass, quivering at the sight of his bare, pert ass. And sticking out of it was indeed the base of a dildo. One I recognized, too; One I recognized for not being particularly small.

I cracked a wide grin, hand filling my palm with his cum glazed cheek. He was shaking, the poor thing. I rested my thumb in the crack, slowly—and of course gently—sliding my hand down its gorgeous curve, trying to familiarize myself with this new creature. My hand paused as my thumb found a little indent between the cheeks. How strange, I clicked my tongue, excited to have found a nerve cluster or dimple. I tenderly pressed forwards, Charlie quaking and gasping as my thumb slipped into… his asshole?

I furrowed my brow, wiggling my thumb in the warm, tight hole. Part of me enjoyed how much he was squirming. *Just a little twitch of my finger and he shakes and moans*. But a more curious, rational part of me knew that this couldn’t be his asshole. Because his asshole was currently at least an inch or two lower and was occupied by a sizeable dildo.

The kinky part of me refused to relinquish my thumb from the warm cavity that controlled my helpless little slut. So the curious part had to lift my other hand. “G-gently!” He pleaded, sounding girlier by the second.

What was it? Perhaps he’d cut the bottom of the dildo off and used an adhesive to hold it to his taint? A clever workaround to get around not liking anal but still getting me worked up, I supposed. But the illusion had to end at some point. I get this off and the magic ends. No more fantasy. I break the spell and we finally talk.

My fingers pinched the base of the dildo, a familiar feeling of a silicone suction cup. I’d had some fun with this toy, though I didn’t mind its destruction for this show. I began pulsing my thumb in his asshole, needing to enjoy this control before I completely unmasked the trick. Maybe help mitigate the pain of ripping adhesive off his taint. Charlie gasped and I used that as my cue to slowly pull my hand away.

There was some resistance, Charlie whimpering. I could see lines of the sticky substance as I pulled the base of the dildo from his flesh. That was it. That was the…

My thumb stopped. My hand stopped. My breath stopped. My heart stopped.

Everything stopped.

I could not be seeing this right. No.

I pulled just a little more, feeling my hand get further away, but the seal never broke. “What…” I pulled further, a little faster, Charlie cooing and tightening his core. The dildo was inside him. Even as the thought hit me, I couldn’t process it, more occupied by the task of slowly pulling the toy out and watching in horror and amazement with each inch.

The whole surface was ruined. It looks as if parts of it had been dissolved. Some deep holes bored from one side to the other. Some parts looked as if they’d had bites taken out of it. But it was unmistakably a large dildo despite its miserable state.

Finally, and unceremoniously, the head slipped out of him with a kissing sound, the warm silicone drooping in my hand. My eyes stared at the puffy, leaking, gasping flesh in disbelief. “What the fuck…”

I dropped to my knees, finding it difficult to breathe as I dropped the dildo to the floor. How could this possibly be? My husband, a middle-aged, vanilla ice cream of a man, was sporting a vagina between his balls and his asshole.

“S-sorry.” He quivered. “I haven’t gotten a chance to see what it looks like, yet. I don’t know if it’s gross right now but it feels much more developed than earlier.”