0 comments/ 38780 views/ 5 favorites Hell Has No Fury Like A Drag Queen' By: Victor C. Anderson The Morning After: Scott slowly awoke to his cock being stroked. Relishing the smooth skin pressed to his back, the silky leg thrown over his, and the lips nibbling at the nape of his neck, he was surprised that his wife was this amorous in the morning. Susan was no prude, but she also was not the sexual aggressor in their marriage. Indeed, their first sexual encounter was more date rape than seduction. As he pressed back against the body behind him he realized that it was not his wife, but Ruth. Ruth! The sudden revelation caused him to stiffen bodily. "Good morning, Scott," Ruth said matter-of-factly, her fist firmly gripping Scott's rampant manhood. "Don't tell me you're having morning after regrets." The question came from Phyllis, Ruth's wife. She was sitting in the bedside chair, watching. Regrets Scott was having, in spades. Even more now that he realized that Ruth not only had her leg over his and her hand around his cock, but her rather impressive cock was firmly up his backside. He closed his eyes and relived the events of the last twenty-four hours. The Day Before: "Do you want me to shave you?" Susan asked, leaning against the door jamb to the bathroom. Scott had just stepped out of the shower, and was preparing to shave. "I think I can handle this," he smiled. Early in their marriage he had let Susan shave him—one of those cutesy things newlyweds do. It turned out she gave a very professional shave, and on more than one occasion when he was due in court or had to meet with important clients he had let her shave him. In fact, whenever they had to have dinner with a senior partner or a client, Susan always performed the honors. But today's court appearance was not important. At least not to him. Just arguments over some procedural matter. The only people who would be in the courtroom would be other lawyers, the judge, the court reporter and the judge's staff. Scott lathered his face and began shaving. "O.K., honey," she replied. "But you know you're going up against Ruth." Scott flinched from both the mention of Ruth's name and the nick it had just produced. Scott detected a certain smugness on his wife's reflection in the mirror as the small bubble of blood formed. As he looked for the styptic pencil, she turned and disappeared. From their bedroom he heard her call out. "I've laid out your dark blue pinstripe, honey. When you look good, you do good." Scott cringed at the homily, nearly cutting himself again. That was one of his mother's favorite sayings, and his wife had acquired it along with a variety of his mother's other habits and sayings. "You gonna take all day? Breakfast is ready!" Susan yelled as Scott was dressing. What's gotten into her, he thought. A nagging wife Susan wasn't. A Stepford wife she wasn't either. Wanting to make sure he was close shaven, laying out his clothing, even selecting the suit he was to wear, fixing breakfast when usually he only had juice and a pastry. Now that he thought about it, she had awakened him a half-hour early. When he reached the dining room, he was greeted with the full Monty: juice, coffee, toast, butter, jam, eggs, ham, hashbrowns. "This is just a motions hearing, not the O. J. trial," he said, indicating the spread on the table. "You're going against Ruth, remember? I don't want you getting light-headed in the middle of an argument." "Ruth Kranmeyer is very good, but she is not Clarence Darrow. She can be beaten." Scott was beginning to get angry with Susan. "Well, you've never done it," his wife said. Scott shot her a dirty look. "We're having Ruth and Phyllis over for dinner tonight, and for once I'd like to be serving a meal without crow for the entree and humble pie for dessert." "Ruth and Phyllis never acted that way," Scott protested. In fact, Ruth always been gracious in victory. Why not. Show me a gracious loser, and I'll show you a loser, they say. Besides, he and Susan were Ruth and Phyllis' best friends—some would say their only friends. Ruth had been a partner at Hume, Goethe, Marlowe when Scott arrived fresh out of law school. She had immediately taken to Scott, and had proven the perfect mentor. Scott played the grateful and loyal protégé, even maintaining an open friendship after Ruth left the firm. Ruth and Phyllis had been very grateful for that. Scott inherited Ruth's clients, and Ruth was always willing to provide insights on each one to Scott. Phyllis had been the perfect lawyer's wife—beautiful, gracious, excellent taste in clothes, a sparkling conversationalist, and most important to the wife of a young associate, never catty or imperious. Phyllis had taken to Susan as readily as Ruth had taken to Phil. Naturally this led to vicious gossip about the two couples' relationship. Especially when one considers the circumstances of Ruth leaving Hume, Goethe, Marlowe. "Sorry," Susan responded, somewhat contritely. "It's just that Phyllis and I got a little bet on the outcome of today's hearing, and I don't want you to lose." "What sort of bet?" "You'll find out tonight," she smiled. *** Ruth was just about to enter the courthouse when she spotted Scott at the foot of the courthouse steps; she waited as he climbed. Halfway up the steps, Scott recognized his former mentor. She was wearing a tan gabardine skirt suit with a medium blue shell, stockings and low-heeled pumps, looking more like a legal secretary than a lawyer. This evidently was not a high-priority hearing for her. Only the briefcase and the heavy-duty leather shoulder bag indicated her true status. "Morning, Scott," she said, extending her hand. "Morning, Ruth," he answered, shaking her hand then holding the door open for her. "I understand Phyllis and I are dining at your place tonight?" Ruth said, more a question than a statement. "Susan sprung that on me this morning." Scott replied as the two strolled toward the courtroom. "I didn't know you didn't know about this, Scott," Ruth responded. "We can postpone it, if you like?" "No, no, Ruth," Scott replied. "It seems the girls got some sort of bet going on this hearing." "Well, I hope Susan's a good loser," Ruth said as they entered the courtroom. *** "As usual, an excellent meal, Susan," complimented Phyllis as they repaired to the living room for drinks, followed by Ruth and Scott. "Thank you, Phyllis," Susan cooed insincerely. "I wanted Ruth to have a full stomach when she paid the bet." "But Sue, the judge decided in favor of Ruth's client." Phyllis rejoined, with an equally insincere pleasantness. "What are you ladies talking about?" Ruth interrupted. This cattiness between these two women was unnatural, and she was very disturbed by it. "Drinks, anyone?" Scott joined in. Like Ruth, he too was surprised and unnerved by the interchange between Susan and Phyllis. "The usual," said Phyllis. Susan indicated the same, followed by Ruth. Scott made the drinks and handed them out. By now all three were seated, leaving Scott standing. There was an awkward silence, broken by Ruth. "Ok, ladies, what's up?" "Well, we ..." "We bet ..." both Susan and Phyllis spoke at the same time. They stopped, then Phyllis spoke. "Well, Susan, this started with your remark, and you lost the bet, maybe you should explain." All eyes turned to Susan, who fidgeted in her chair. "Well, ... two weeks ago Phyllis and I were shopping, and I was trying on this dress that I really wanted. When I got ready to buy it, Phyllis asked if they had it in larger sizes. When the salesclerk said yes, Phyllis asked for it in a size that I knew was meant for Ruth. Well, ... I tossed my dress on the counter and blurted out that I wouldn't be seen dead in a dress a drag queen was going to wear." At this both Ruth and Scott looked at Susan, dumbfounded by her confession. Ruth stood and walked around the room, ending up at the bar. Ruth was born Harlan Kranmeyer and it was as Harlan Kranmeyer that he had become a partner at Hume, Goethe, Marlowe. It was his decision to live his life as a woman that had caused the firm to fire him. "So that's how you think of me, a drag queen?" Ruth harumpfed. Turning to Scott, "You too?" "I think drag queen is too strong a phrase," Scott said apologetically. Of all the partners and associates, only Scott had remained a friend. Of all the wives, Susan and a few of the senior partner's wives had still befriended Phyllis, but these soon also disappeared, except for Susan and two others whose husbands were in the closet. "Gentlemen," Phyllis interjected, "Sue is not quite finished." All eyes again turned on Susan. "Well ... I was really sorry for what I said. Phyllis walked out of the store, and wouldn't accept my calls for a week. When she did, she wouldn't accept my apology. We finally agreed to have lunch last Saturday to talk things out ... and ... and ... well, it didn't work out." The silence was deafening. Phyllis had had a difficult time, but was rebuilding her social life around herself rather than her husband's career. She knew that Scott's friendship meant a lot to her husband, now Ruth, and she valued Susan's seemingly sincere friendship toward her. And she knew her husband was no drag queen! So she was extremely hurt by Susan's remark. "Ruth," Phyllis broke the silence. "I told Susan that you're man enough to kick her husband's ass in court every time you oppose each other, and that you're man enough to satisfy both her, me, and every woman at Hume, Goethe, Marlowe anytime. And to prove it, when you won your next court bout with Scott, you would get to fuck both me and her, with Scott watching but not joining. ... By the way, Ruth is wearing the dress Susan wouldn't be caught dead in." The dress was a cowl-collared, long-sleeve cream print, with bold abstract slashes of color, belted at the waist, reaching to just below Ruth's knees. Scott and Ruth looked at the women, then at each other, then back at the women. Ruth recognized how bitter Phyllis was and knew that there would never be any reconciliation between her and Susan. This was their last dinner together. "Scott, Susan," she began in sorrow, "I'm sorry about this. I thought you two understood." Looking at Phyllis, he continued. "Phyllis, honey, ... I am truly sorry. I did not know how hurt you've been by all this. If you want a divorce ...." "Divorce!" Phyllis shouted. "If I wanted a divorce I would have filed the first time I caught you cheating! I love you as you are—panties and all. But these false friends of ours!" By now Phyllis was in tears—tears of anger—and Susan could only stare at her own feet. "I won't hold you two to this silly bet," Ruth continued, looking first at Scott then at Susan. "Phyllis will have to do without her pound of flesh." "Let's think about that, Ruth," Scott interjected. The other three looked at him. "Well ... I've seen you as Harlan in the buff ... I don't think Susan ever had anyone but me ... Have you Sue?" At this Susan shook her head in the negative, incredulous at what her husband was suggesting. His face was somewhat flush, and his breathing was becoming irregular. "Maybe you should ... you know .... claim your prize." Ruth and Susan looked at Scott in shock and surprise; Phyllis smiled in understanding. Standing, she went over to Ruth and unzipped the back of her dress. Phyllis pushed the dress off Ruth's shoulders and down her body, letting it pool at Ruth's feet. There had been much speculation at Hume, Goethe, Marlowe about what Ruth wore underneath her dresses. Tonight she wore a full satin slip, in peach. Phillis lifted the slip, revealing a waist cincher garter belt and full cut control front brief panties, also in peach. Phyllis unhooked the waist cincher and pushed it and the panties down until they was pooled at Ruth's ankles with the dress, revealing a flaccid eight-inch cock. Phyllis reached around Ruth and fisted her cock, bringing it into semi-erection. Looking straight at Scott, Phyllis invited him: "Wouldn't you like to help Ruth get ready to fuck your wife?" Scott had been watching the disrobing of Ruth zombie-like, not really aware of himself or his surroundings. The only difference between Harlan's body and Ruth's that he could see was the complete hairlessness of Ruth, and the seeming softness of her skin. The cock held in Phyllis' hands drew him like a magnet and without thinking he was soon on his knees with his mouth open as Phyllis guided her husband's cock into his mouth. As Ruth's cock grew to full hardness, Phyllis stepped away and watched. Turning to Susan, who was watching all of this with mouth agape, Phyllis sneered, "My husband's a drag queen? Your husband's a cocksucker!" Susan looked at the men. If she didn't know better, she would have thought her husband was eating another woman. From the neck up Ruth presented the vision of a reasonably attractive middle-aged woman: arched eyebrows, eye shadow, false eyelashes, mascara, make-up, lipstick, all tastefully done. Ruth's hair ended in a curl just above her shoulders. Below the neck, Susan saw the outline of Ruth's longline bra beneath the lacy bodice of the slip, giving her a full bosom. The lacy hem of the slip was draped over Scott's shoulders and back, his head shrouded in its satin folds. Only Ruth's mannish hands, incongruously red tipped, gripping Scott's head beneath the slip, and Scott's movements, indicated that Scott was giving head to a man, not a woman. *** "Think you can handle the drag queen?" Phyllis hissed. Susan looked at her in shock. Surely Phyllis didn't expect her to go through with the bet! But the look of hatred on her former friend's face told her Phyllis did! Susan looked at the men again. Ruth had pulled her now fully rampant dick from Scott's mouth and was extricating her feet from the clothing and shoes gathered around her ankles. Her feet free, Ruth stepped back and looked at the women. Scott was still on his knees, his face inches from Ruth's cock, looking back at Susan sheepishly. Susan saw an all too familiar look of sexual expectation on Scott's face. "Oh, what the hell!" she said, reaching behind her to unfasten her dress. She let the dress fall to her feet and walked toward the bedroom, followed by Ruth, Phyllis and Scott. All noticed the sway of Susan's nylon-encased hips as she walked angrily to the bedroom. Her beauty was no small asset to Scott's career. Reaching the bedroom, she removed her bra revealing a perfect pair of c-cups. She sat on the bed and removed her pantyhose and panties, then positioned herself in the middle of the bed, legs spread. She glared defiantly at the trio. Without ceremony or comment, Ruth climbed between her legs and positioned herself above her. Phyllis sat on the bed and opened the lips of Susan's pussy with one hand while guiding her husband's cock into the young woman with the other. Ruth sank into her to her balls, the lack of lubrication causing discomfort to both of them. As he looked down at Susan, Ruth saw the difficulty she was having. "She needs to get use to me," she said to her wife, laying on top of Susan, not moving. Phyllis looked with disdain at Susan. "Does that feel like a drag queen between your legs, Susan? You think some macho man with an eight inch dick would be concerned with your getting use to him? My husband in a dress is more man than any man you'll ever have in a jock strap, especially this cocksucking husband of yours." Phyllis then gave Ruth a very juicy French kiss. Phyllis' constantly calling him a cocksucker was beginning to tell on Scott. He didn't know why he had sucked Ruth's cock, but he knew he would do it again if presented with the opportunity. Did that mean he was queer? Was the real reason he had remained friends with Ruth was that he wanted to have sex with her? Susan had never had to get used to him being inside her. Could he satisfy her now that she had experienced a bigger cock? Phyllis' words also affected Susan. More their tone, really. She had not realized how she had hurt her friend by calling her husband a drag queen. And she had not realized how vindictive Phyllis could be. Of all the wives or other women with Hume, Goethe, Marlowe, Susan would have said Phyllis was the least catty, the least vengeful. But that was before Ruth came out. The past year and a half had not been pleasant, and Phyllis developed an inner hardness belied by her soft facade. What had hurt Phyllis most were how the other wives—women she had counted as friends—had turned on them so quickly. Only those wives who were in the same position—with cross-dressing husbands—stood by her. And they stood by mainly because they needed support too. So Susan's outburst was seen as a deep betrayal, her friendship a sham. It shattered Phyllis' last reed of decency toward those she believed betrayed her and Ruth. Phyllis wanted revenge. She wanted to hurt those who had hurt her. And she would start with the falsest of friends—Susan! Susan had been shocked when Phyllis made the suggestion that the loser would have to watch another man fuck his wife, and to orally service him too. She realized that the rupture between her and Phyllis would also sever the relationship between their husbands, and Scott would not be happy with that. But she was desperate; if she could stall for time, maybe Phyllis would relent by time they met for dinner. And the dinner had gone so well! Not once did Phyllis mention the bet. Not even a hint! And then the bombshell in the living room. And Scott! Willing to have another man fuck his wife! Not only willing to let it happen, but wanting to watch! And dropping to his knees to suck cock! The same cock that was now stretching her pussy. Susan felt less stretched now, and realized that she was adjusting to Ruth's girth. Ruth was laying on top of her, but still supporting the bulk of her weight on her forearms, which framed Susan's head, and her knees. Susan noticed that the feel of Ruth's smooth skin on hers was much different than Scott's. Not that Scott was hairy. But Susan had only known Scott as a lover, and never thought about skin texture as a sexual experience. She was not displeased with the differences. As she began to accommodate more of Ruth, Susan wrapped her legs around her waist. Her body was thicker than Scott's, so Susan could not lock her ankles as she did with her husband. She settled for digging her heels into Ruth's butt cheeks. Susan's heels on her ass signaled to Ruth that she could begin some movement. She started to pull out slowly, but realized Susan had not loosened enough for ease of movement. She settled back into the saddle of Susan's hips. Susan wiggled her hips, seating Ruth properly. None of this was missed by Phyllis. "You like being fucked by a drag queen, Susan? You like having your cunt stretched so that you can't move? Just wait until you loosen up enough for Ruth to really fuck you. You might be needing the divorce lawyer when Ruth's through with you. I don't think you'll ever be satisfied with Scott after tonight." Scott was standing at the edge of the bed, watching, transfixed at seeing Ruth's cock enter his wife. His own dick was now stretching his pants. He knew that soon he would be fucking his wife, and that idea excited him more than anything. Phyllis' words intrigued him: how would Susan's cunt feel after being stretched by Ruth. Susan was feeling something different. As she adjusted to Ruth's size, then the feel of Ruth's skin, Susan realized that the smell of Ruth's perfume was more appealing than the smell of a man's cologne. And Ruth did have excellent taste—in scents as well as everything else feminine she wore—and the money to buy the best. She wondered whether Ruth selected her own perfume, or Phyllis. The scent was not Phyllis', Susan noted. Ruth began sliding her cock in and out of Susan, about a half-inch at a time. Susan began to lubricate and Ruth began a more forceful movement. Soon she was stroking Susan fully, pulling out until just the head was in, plunging until her balls smashed into Susan's firmly soft ass. Susan wrapped her arms around Ruth and dug her heels into Ruth's ass. Susan had not felt so full since she lost her virginity. Hell Has No Fury Like A Drag Queen' Phyllis watched with pride as her husband fucked Susan. Drag queen indeed! When Susan wrapped her arms around Ruth and began to fuck back, Phyllis knew that Susan would never think of Ruth in that way again. Looking at Scott, she was not surprised to find him giving his undivided attention to the copulating couple. Well, not his undivided attention. Still clothed, he was rubbing a sizable bulge in his pants. Phyllis reached over and grabbed his wrists, moving his hands to his side. Staring into his eyes, she informed him "You lost the bet, remember? You're here to service us, not yourself." Releasing him, she leaned against the headboard while Ruth and Susan made the beast with two backs. Phyllis noted that the two went at it for a considerable period of time. Maybe this was not all that good an idea. All good things must come to an end. Ruth buried herself in Susan a final time and stiffened on Susan's body, her cock filling Susan's cunt with her seed. She collapsed on top of Susan, who continued to hold her. After several minutes, Ruth had deflated enough to pull out of Susan. Ruth rolled on her back, laying next to Susan. Phyllis was even more elated than before. She looked at her husband's softened cock, still a magnificent eight inches, covered with semen and, Phyllis imagined, Susan's secretions. Susan's pussy was distended, Ruth's cum running out, down to the crack of her ass and onto the bedspread. Scott stood there looking at his fresh-fucked wife. The glow of her skin, her ragged breathing, the enlargement of her nipples, the cum seeping from her now enlarged pussy—all gave Scott the hardest erection he could remember. "Go get some towels and a wet wash cloth." Scott didn't hear Phyllis' command. "Scott!" Phyllis said, louder, "towels and wash cloths, now!" Brought back to reality, Scott went to the bathroom, returning with the requested items. Ruth had regained her composure, while Susan just lay there, looking at the ceiling. "I think you should clean the mess underneath your wife," Phyllis instructed Scott. Scott wiped the pool of semen from the bedspread. When he went to wipe the stream still oozing from his wife, she jumped at the touch. "Just put a towel down there," Phyllis ordered. After Scott had done so, Phyllis commented, "You liked sucking Ruth's cock in the living room, I'm sure you wouldn't mind cleaning your wife's mess from it now—with your tongue!" Scott hesitated, then went to Ruth's side of the bed. Dropping to his knees, he took Ruth's cock in his mouth. "You can clean it better by just licking it," Phyllis suggested. Scott began licking. "That's the way, Scott, clean her good. I don't want any of your wife on her when she fucks me." Phyllis was now standing, removing her clothes. Scott was on his knees on the opposite side of the bed and had a ringside view as Phyllis stripped. A good ten years older than Susan, Phyllis had no reason to envy the younger woman. At five seven and a 110 pounds, with a 37-inch bust that didn't sag when she removed her bra, Phyllis was hot and knew it. Tennis, daily workouts with a personal trainer, swimming—all the perks of a wife of a successful lawyer—let her keep herself trim and fit. A hint of a furrow ran from between her breasts to her navel. Her waist nipped in to a girlish 28 inches, swelling out to full hips of 38 inches. When she bent over to remove her pantyhose and panties, Scott spied a dimple atop each cheek. When she straightened up and faced him, she truly had an hourglass figure. Phyllis put her hands on her hips and spread her legs slightly. "Enjoying the view?" she mocked. Susan had just laid there all this time, marveling at her husband being bossed by Phyllis. She tells him not to relieve himself, he doesn't relieve himself. She tells him to get towels and washcloths, he gets them. She tells him to clean the bedspread, and he acts like her maid. She tells him to lick her husband's cock, and he becomes a cocksucker again. Or a cock licker. Whatever. She turned to look at Phyllis as the older woman taunted her husband. Wow! Why would any man want to live like a woman when he had a woman like this to live with? Susan knew she looked as good as Phyllis—maybe even better—but that had as much to do with youth as anything else. Would she look that good at that age? "All finished?" Phyllis sneered, walking around the bed. Scott had licked all of the cum mixture off of Ruth's cock, bringing it to erection in the process. "Ooo!" Phyllis cooed. "I couldn't have done better myself. We might just have to have you as part of our lovemaking from now on." Reaching the side of the bed, she indicated to Ruth that she should sit up. Ruth complied, swinging her legs to the floor. Phyllis climbed onto the bed, laying where Ruth had laid. The motion caused Phyllis' hips and arm to touch Susan, who recoiled. Phyllis shot her a look of pure hatred. Not only does she think my husband is a drag queen, she now thinks she is too pure to be touched by me, Phyllis thought. This little minx really needs to be taken down a peg or two—or five! Positioning herself properly, Phyllis spread her legs and looked at Ruth. Through all this Ruth had kept quiet. In their seventeen years of marriage she had seen Phyllis this way only three times. The first was the weekend Phyllis had proposed to her. She had told her she was going to fuck her brains out and she nearly did. She wanted to give Harlan a fucking such that no woman would ever satisfy him again, and she did. The second time was when Phyllis caught Harlan cheating on her. Assured that it was just a booty call, Phyllis insisted that Harlan fuck her every night, and arranged to have other women available for weekends. After three weeks, Harlan knew that his cock was meant only for Phyllis—unless Phyllis decided otherwise. Triumphant, Phyllis was not possessive. She arranged for Harlan to have some type of variety every several weeks. Which led to the third time. Servicing three women during the course of a weekend tells on any man over the age of fifteen. To revive a flagging Harlan, two of the women Phyllis had procured one weekend shaved Harlan's body, powdered him and massaged him using their panties and stockings. Their pampering had the intended effect, and Phyllis found that having Harlan wear stockings and panties improved his randiness. Harlan found out he liked the feel of nylon and lycra and satin and lace against his skin, especially when he was shaved. What started out as foreplay became ritual became necessity. When Harlan went from wearing lingerie for sex to wearing lingerie under his clothes to dressing as a woman on weekends, Phyllis thought she could fuck him out of it. Whenever he wore women's clothing, Harlan had to fuck Phyllis into oblivion, or no more women's clothing until Harlan could perform his spousal duties to Phyllis' satisfaction. Sex went from a pleasure to a duty to a contest to a battle—for both of them. So they came to an understanding. Harlan could be Ruth—his nom de femme—as long as it did not affect his performance in the bedroom—his normal performance. Harlan became Ruth immediately on reaching home, and on weekends. With Ruth around all the time and Harlan existing only at the office and in court, they both realized that it was only a matter of time before their dual lifestyle would be discovered. So Ruth took over and Harlan disappeared. This included always referring to her in the feminine—Ruth, never Harlan; her for him, hers for his, she for he. Now it was second nature to them. Ruth looked at her wife and climbed aboard. She slid into Phyllis easily, the result of years of marriage and Phyllis' fantastic muscle control. She starter to pull back when Phyllis used that control to clamp her to her. "Not so fast, Ruth." Phyllis cooed. "Stay a while and enjoy yourself. You know I don't have to 'get used to you.' " These last words she spat out, looking at Susan. "I never have. No real woman would!" Phyllis squeezed her cunt around Ruth's cock, then began a rhythmic milking of her. Ruth moaned. "That's a good girl, Ruth. Just stay there with your balls against my ass and your eight-and-a-half inch cock filling me." Phyllis continued her ministrations, eliciting more moans from Ruth. "You didn't moan like that when you were fucking Susan, honey. Didn't she treat you right? ... Must not have, or why are you so hard for me? ... Or maybe it's that mouth of Scott's. Do I owe this good fucking to Scott? I hope not. ... That'll make a girl feel inadequate, her man preferring another man's mouth to her sweet pussy." Scott and Susan were both surprised and shocked by Phyllis' language. Neither had imagined her capable of such filthy talk. But then they had not imagined the existence of Ruth, or Phyllis' reaction too Susan's comment, or their own reactions this evening. And while Susan had mixed feelings, being both disgusted and turned on by Phyllis and their situation, for Scott the entire evening was one gigantic aphrodisiac. Ruth had heard it all before. What was turning her on was the movements of his wife. In addition to her cunt, Phyllis was running her heels up and down the back of Ruth's thighs, stroking her sides with her fingernails, rubbing her back with her fingers. Then there was the feel of Phyllis' body—the texture of her skin, the feel of her large breasts. Phyllis was still the best fuck Ruth had ever had, and it was time to shoot her load. Ruth braced herself and began stroking in and out of Phyllis. Phyllis would have liked to prolong the session, but realized Ruth had reached the point of no return. She didn't realize that she and Ruth had been coupled for nearly twenty minutes. She locked her ankles over Ruth's ass and met her stroke for stroke. After about three minutes, Ruth stiffened and came, collapsing on top of his wife. The two lay there for several minutes, Phyllis milking Ruth as the latter retreated to her flaccid state. One of the advantages of Ruth living as a woman was that she had removed nearly all of her body hair, and various skin treatments had given her a skin as smooth and as soft as a real woman. Phyllis enjoyed the feel of Ruth against her, even when they were not making love—or, more correctly, when their lovemaking did not involve fucking. If they were at home they would have remained like this and cuddled for some time. But they were not at home. They were in the bed of a most appreciative audience. Scott and Susan had watched with no small amount of arousal. By now, Susan had moved to her chair on her side of the bed, sitting spread-legged as Ruth's and her juices continued to leak, staining the seat of the chair. Scott had sat in his chair, still clothed. Phyllis was able to appraise both of them as she cradled Ruth. As Ruth slipped out of her, Phyllis eased her off and to the side. Ruth rolled off and sat on the side of the bed. Phyllis turned to Scott. "Get undressed, Scott," she directed. Scott stood and quickly stripped. Phyllis was pleased with what she saw. Scott was a jock, and was as fit as his wife. His body was well-toned without being muscular. 'You need relief, Scott?" Phyllis looked over at Susan. "That's what a wife is for." Scott came around to Susan's side of the bed and climbed on top of her. Being smaller than Ruth, and with Ruth's secretions still inside Susan, Scott slid in easily. Too easily. He tried pumping but felt like a swizzle stick in a highball. Susan also felt frustrated. She tried to contract her cunt but couldn't. Would she need a large cock from now on? And where would she get one? Was this the end of her marriage? After several minutes Scott climbed off and sat in Susan's chair, dejected. "What's the matter, Susan? Drag queen ruin you for Scott?" Phyllis taunted, again. She looked at Scott's body. Only the body hair was a turn off. Even Scott's average size six-and-half-inch dick did not phase her. She knew Ruth was better endowed than most, and did not fault those less blessed, just as she did not fault women who were not as beautiful as she was. She had never closed her legs and looked from Scott to her crotch and back. Scott got the message and climbed over his wife to lie on top of Phyllis. Phyllis wrapped her legs around Scott and pulled him fully into her. "How does it feel to follow a real man, Scott?" She continued to taunt. "Is this how Susan felt? But a real woman can handle you. ... Just lay there. ... I'll show you that a real woman can handle a six-inch prick and an eight-inch prick at the same time." As she spoke, Phyllis began to contract her cunt muscles, slowly decreasing the size of her pussy. "You're a lucky man, Scott, you know that? You've wanted me for so long. ... Don't deny it. Every man at Hume, Goethe, Marlowe wants me. ... just like they all want Susan. ... You wouldn't believe all the hits I received since Ruth came out. 'Would I like a real man?' 'They say you're not woman enough, I'd like help you prove them wrong.' ... Real man ... Help me prove them wrong! Ha! If they only knew!" By now Phyllis had tightened her cunt around Scott's dick and was milking it as she had Ruth's, with the same effect: Scott moaned. Looking triumphantly at Susan, Phyllis continued. "You like that, Scott. ... A real woman can handle any size dick. I can go from you to Ruth and back again." Phyllis pressed her heels into Scott's back, signaling that she wanted him to start pumping her. Scott responded, and Phyllis alternately gripped and released him as he pumped. "My, my, my," Phyllis breathed. "You're really good, Scott. Is it me, or do you just like sloppy seconds?" Scott stiffened at this and began driving into Phyllis harder. "You like fucking another man's cum, Scott? ... Think you can equal Ruth?" While she was saying this, Phyllis continued to grip Scott's cock as he rode her, while running her heels up and down his thighs, rubbing his back and sides with her hands, nipping and kissing his ears. "You know you're the only man to fuck me other than Ruth since we been married? Yeah, you're a lucky man, Scott." Soon Scott responded just as Ruth had, and came. Phyllis milked him as he too went soft and slipped out of her. Unlike with Ruth, however, Phyllis quickly pushed him off of her. Phyllis raised herself to a sitting position to assess the situation. Scott sat on the side of the bed, his cock coated with semen from two men and her juices. Susan lay beside her, a trail of drying semen leading from her distended cunt to the crack of her ass. Ruth was seated in the chair next to her side of the bed, her cock flaccid and laying against one of her thighs. Phyllis looked down at the cum seeping from herself. "Scott," she intoned. "Eat my pussy." It was as direct a command as possible, but Scott hesitated. "You're the only man other than Ruth to fuck me in seventeen years, wouldn't you like to be the only other man to taste my pussy?" Scott bent over and licked her tentatively, causing Phyllis to grab the back of his head and push his face into her crotch. "Eat me, damn it!" She placed both her hands on his head and held him in place as he began licking her outer lips. "Put your tongue in me, Scott!" Scott stuck his tongue in her, piercing the pool of cum. "That's right, clean me out!" Phyllis squeezed her cunt, forcing some of the cum out. Scott began licking her in earnest. Turning to Susan, Phyllis began taunting again. "He really is good at this, Susan. Does he eat you after he's cum inside you? Does he like the taste of cum and pussy juice? Oooooo," she moaned. "Damn, Scott, are you trying to take me away from Ruth?" Ruth looked at them, not the least bit threatened. She thought that Phyllis was overdoing the theatrics a bit. Phyllis had had her revenge, and Ruth was thinking it was time to put a stop to this. But Phyllis was not acting. Well, not much. She wasn't going to leave Ruth, especially for Scott, but Scott was doing a job on her pussy. Phyllis was about to cum again. "You really like eating another man's cum, uh, Scott? ... From his wife's pussy? ... With your own mixed in? ...Well, go ahead, Scotty, and I'll cum some more for you." And with that she raised her hips to his face and came. Scott continued licking Phyllis, goaded on by her words. He had never eaten Susan after they had fucked. He wanted to clean Phyllis out, but didn't know why. The taste of cum and pussy wasn't good, but not unpleasant. Sort of like a foreign food you have for the first time. An acquired taste, they say. No, there was something about Phyllis giving him orders that turned him on. And he was pleased that he could make her cum. Susan was laying beside them with serious doubts about her husband surfacing. He was groveling in another woman's crotch as if she wasn't there. And not just eating her, but eating the deposits of himself and another man! Her regret about calling Ruth a drag queen had turned into resentment of Phyllis. Phyllis could handle Ruth's cock with no problem. Phyllis could satisfy her husband after Ruth, when she couldn't. Phyllis' every statement had become a command for Scott. And Phyllis even came on Scott's tongue. Phyllis was in her bed, enjoying her husband and making her life miserable. Susan no longer resented Phyllis; she hated her. Scott's tongue was bringing Phyllis to another orgasm, one she didn't really want. She pushed Scott's head away from her, slightly lifting it as she did. "Why don't you take care of your wife?" Scott started to climb over Phyllis' and Susan's legs when Susan jumped out of the bed. "Don't touch me!" she yelled, running into the bathroom. Scott lay on the bed, wondering what to do next as they heard the shower running. Phyllis ran her fingers through Scott's pubic hairs, giving him a hard-on. When she heard the shower stop running, She bent over and gave Scott's dick a quick suck. "Scott," she mewed, "you like the way I taste?" "Uh, ... yeah," he answered, confused. "Ruth's dick still has my taste on it. Wouldn't you like to clean it off, like you did earlier?" She then bent down and gave Scott's dick a kiss on the head. Scott scrambled over her body and knelt before Ruth. "You don't have to do this, Scott," Ruth said. "This has gone far enough." Ruth had gone along this far for several reasons. First, he knew Phyllis was deeply hurt and had to be appeased. Second, she had also been hurt by Susan's statement. Third, Phyllis knew her husband very well; he had wanted to fuck Susan since the first time he saw her. Fourth, Scott didn't object. Since living as a woman, Ruth had discovered that the world is full of supposedly straight men who cant' resist having sex with a man in a dress. And like Scott, many of them take very easily to domination and cocksucking. But who was she to judge? "It's okay, Ruth," Scott practically begged as took her cock between his fingers. He took the head between his lips and sucked gently, soon having the head and two inches of shaft in his mouth. And this is how Susan found them: her husband on his knees with the eight-and-a-half-inch dick of the man she had called a drag queen in his mouth, and Phyllis sitting on the bed against the headboard like a queen on her throne, gloating. Susan pulled on some panties, a bra, a blouse, slacks and running shoes. Without speaking she went to her closet and brought out a suitcase and began filling it. "I hope you're not planning on leaving Scott," Phyllis inquired. "As a matter of fact, I'm doing just that." Susan spat back. This revelation shocked and hurt Scott. He had been so into the sex and the domination that he had not thought that his wife may be having a different experience. After all, it was very clear she had enjoyed being fucked by Ruth's cock. And she had not had to do anything else except lay there and have either Ruth or him make love to her. "Think about your situation, Susan," Phyllis continued. "You're the wife of a successful attorney. Do you think your prospects will improve once you leave him?" Susan hesitated in her packing. "Take it from me, what's out there isn't really better than what you have. Better the devil you know than the one you don't." Susan continued packing, not so sure of herself now. "You know, Scott's got a really talented tongue. You aren't going to find many men who eats pussy the way he does." Susan had finished packing, but did not close the suitcase. "And where are you going to find a cock as big as Ruth's? They don't grow on trees!" Hell Has No Fury Like A Drag Queen' Susan was completely demoralized. Everything Phyllis said was true. She sat on the foot of the bed, not knowing what to do next. "Like I said earlier, Ruth wanted to fuck you since Scott joined the firm. All the men do. And we know Scott felt the same way about me. We were the two most desirable lawyer's wives at Goethe, Hume, Marlowe. And now you are without competition. You've seen how one off-hand comment affected me. What if Ruth had not been forced to leave the firm, was still a senior partner, was still Scott's boss, and you had said that? Do you want to make that mistake again? We can never be friends again, Susan, but that doesn't mean we cannot be friendly. We just have to redefine the nature of our relationship—you and I, Scott and Ruth, the Kranmeyers and the Chadwicks." Phyllis paused to let what she had said sink in. While she had been speaking to Susan, the speech was also intended for Ruth. Phyllis had been faithful to Ruth throughout their marriage. While she had arranged for Ruth to enjoy other women, she had never sought extracurricular male partners. She had enjoyed the occasional head by some of the women she procured for Ruth, but it was at their insistence, not hers. It seems that women who want to have sex with a transgendered man also enjoyed sex with women, and Phyllis was definitely all woman. She also discovered that having her pussy tag-teamed by two or three people could produce a series of multiple orgasms that could last for more than an hour. Few men could equal the women she obtained for Ruth, but Scott had proven their equal. And he didn't have any problem sucking Ruth's dick. "Ruth likes variety," Phyllis continued. "I make sure Ruth gets all the extracurricular nookie she can handle. You could be that nookie. ... Think about it. ... You can get screwed by an eight-and-a-half inch cock on a regular basis—an eight-and-a-half inch cock whose owner knows how to fuck! ... And I'm willing to teach you how to handle both a cock of Ruth's size and one like Scott's." Susan looked at the floor at her feet, letting the words sink in. Ruth and Scott were looking at the women, also considering what Phyllis had said. Ruth had some misgivings about involving the Chadwicks in their sexual activities. None of their past or current sexual partners were part of their professional or social worlds. But Harlan becoming Ruth had changed those worlds. Ruth realized that Susan could easily become an excellent sexual partner with experience—and under Phyllis' tutelage. And while he wasn't into gay sex, a good blow job is a good blow job, and Scott was good. For the first time Ruth wondered if Scott had sucked cock before. Scott had sucked cock before. Between his first and second years at law school, he had roomed with two other interns at another law firm. One of them was a closeted gay who gave him and the other intern blow jobs on a regular basis. Toward the end of the summer, Scott and the other straight intern had gotten drunk and horny. Their gay roomie not being available, they went down on each other. In the midst of a rather sloppy 69, the third roommate came home. What followed was a clinic in how to suck cock. The three of them orally pleasured each other for the remainder of their internships. Returning to law school, Scott sought to erase the episode by pursuing every hot babe on campus, getting him a reputation as a womanizer. Susan considered herself lucky to land such a stud, even though she had to sacrifice her virginity to him to do so. Scott had occasionally fantasized about sucking cock again, including Ruth's when she was Harlan. So when Phyllis offered him Ruth's cock, he went to it without thinking or hesitation. Despite a well-earned reputation for womanizing, Scott had been faithful to Susan in their brief marriage. Susan had made it clear when she had sex with him the first time that he would have no sex with anyone else while they were together. She hadn't expected to marry Scott. Getting rid of her virginity was her prime motivation in going with him. Having a boyfriend in the law school stopped her fellow underclassmen from hitting on her. Having established his reputation as a stud, having one of the hottest women on campus as his girlfriend, Scott concentrated on his studies. His diligence paid off with an internship at Goethe, Hume, Marlowe. Not wanting to repeat his experiences of the previous year, he asked Susan to move in with him. She did, and just before the start of his third year they were married. Phyllis had also been right about his wanting to fuck her since the day he joined the firm. But then, every man at the firm did. He was both surprised and flattered when she let him fuck her. Surprised that she would let him fuck her and flattered that he was the only man to do so since her marriage. He now wondered if her proposition to Susan would include his fucking her. The fact that Susan was packing to leave him, and might still do so did not register. "Why don't you spend the weekend at the Fairlane," Phyllis suggested to Susan. The Fairlane was the exclusive hotel-spa for their town. Both couples had spent extended weekends there, together, with others, and alone. "Give yourself some time with your thoughts." Phyllis knew that Susan would have to use credit cards her marriage to Scott provided, further impressing on her the perks of being a successful lawyer's wife. Primarily though, she knew that whoever packed and moved out first would be the one abandoning the marriage, and she wanted Scott to remain in the house if one of them had to leave. Susan thought about Phyllis' suggestion, then closed her suitcase, not realizing its full implications. As she stood to leave she looked at her husband, sitting on the floor at Ruth's feet, his lips smeared with cum from both Ruth and Phyllis. She picked up the suitcase and left, not knowing if she'd ever come back. As he heard Susan's car drive off, Scott finally realized his predicament. Phyllis recognized the look of dejection on his face. "Don't worry, Scott. Susan's a pragmatic girl. She'll be back." Looking at Ruth, "Ruth, honey, think you can go one more time?" "No, I'm finished for tonight." "You mind if Scott took care of me while you take a shower?" This was more a statement than a question. Ruth shook her head in the negative and made moves to stand, which required Scott to move away from his position at Ruth's feet. Phyllis scooted down on the bed and Scott climbed on top of her. Ruth stood, watched as her wife guided the younger man into position, then wrapped her legs and arms around him. She looked at Ruth as she began milking Scott's cock, a look telling Ruth that this was just a mercy fuck. Ruth padded into the bathroom. When she came back into the bedroom fifteen minutes later, Phyllis was on top of Scott. "Don't move, Scott. Just let me do all the work. You've been so good at pleasuring Ruth and me. Now it's your turn." Phyllis placed her hands on Scott's chest and began riding his cock. Although he was drained and would not become hard again, he enjoyed the velvet vise that Phyllis' cunt became. Phyllis knew Scott had petered out, but kept massaging his not hard-not limp cock until it began to soften. Ruth began to gather her clothes. "I don't think we should leave Scott alone, honey," Phyllis said, climbing off Scott. "Why don't you and Scott change the sheets while I shower?" Ruth and Scott looked at each other, then at the shapely ass of Phyllis disappearing into the bathroom. Ruth began stripping the bed clothing, forcing Scott to get out of the bed. Scott began hunting for fresh linen while Ruth finished. Wordlessly the two of them re-made the bed, finishing just as Phyllis came back, her hair in a towel. She stood at the foot of the bed, toweling herself dry, making sure both males had as wonderful a show as if she was pole-dancing. Seeing that her performance could not arouse them further, she knew she could get a good night's sleep. "Why don't you two sleep here, and I'll take the guest room." Phyllis had no other motive than a good night's sleep. Ruth and Scott looked at each other apprehensively. "C'mon, fellas," Phyllis cajoled. "After all we've done, sharing a bed can't be that earth-shattering!" "I don't have any nightwear," protested Ruth. "Then sleep in your slip," Phyllis replied, "you've done it before." "I ... I'm ..." Scott stammered. "Look, gentlemen," Phyllis said, "I'm going to bed, and I don't want to be disturbed. You'll have to make your own arrangements." So saying, she left them with the sight of her pear-shaped ass exiting the bedroom. Ruth and Scott looked at each other awkward. "I need to shower," Scott said, nearly running for the bathroom. As Scott showered, Ruth decided to get some sleep, and crawled between the sheets, unknowingly on Scott's side of the bed. She was snoring loudly when Scott came out of the bath. Scott looked with dismay at the bed. Not only would he have to share it with Ruth, but she was on Scott's side. Scott picked his ugliest pair of pajamas and put them on, not realizing that once the lights were out, Ruth would not be able to see them. He hesitantly parted the sheets and eased into the bed on Susan's side, turning his back to Ruth. Between the snoring and waiting for an advance that never came, it took nearly an hour before Scott went to sleep. And so exhausted was he that he didn't feel Ruth's cock entering his ass seven hours later. -000-