The Trans Woman My Wife Brought Home to Humiliate Me

It was an ordinary night, one of those when the exhaustion from work left me sprawled on the sofa with my laptop resting on my knees. Marta had gone out to dinner with her friends and I, like the trusting idiot I was, didn’t even think to close the browser tabs when I was done.

I was watching videos of trans girls. Those women with something extra that had always fascinated me in secret, long before I got married. I couldn’t say where it came from, but the idea of being at the mercy of one of them, of being used however she pleased, of having her cock shoved all the way down my throat and fucking my ass without asking, drove me to the edge in seconds.

That night was no different. I jerked off quickly, squeezing my cock with my hand while I watched a brunette with small tits take it all the way inside some married guy like me. I came almost guiltily, warm semen slipping between my fingers, and fell asleep without deleting anything. A stupid lapse. The kind of lapse that changes your life.

***

The next morning, Marta came into the kitchen while I was making coffee. She had that playful smile that always disarmed me, but this time there was something else: a sharp gleam in her eyes, like someone keeping a card up her sleeve.

—How was last night, love? —she asked, pouring herself a cup—. Did you keep yourself entertained?

I nodded, unsuspecting.

—I watched a movie and crashed on the sofa.

She laughed, a low sound that made my skin crawl before I even understood why.

—A movie? How sweet. You used my laptop, didn’t you? You left the tabs open. I saw perfectly well what you were looking at. And I saw the tissues in the bin too, you filthy thing.

Some coffee spilled over my hand. I didn’t feel the heat of the liquid, only the other heat, the one that climbed up my neck to my ears. I lowered my gaze like a kid caught doing something wrong.

—Marta, it’s not what it looks like. It was just curiosity.

—Curiosity —she repeated, drawing the word out. She came closer and put a hand on my shoulder, slowly—. But I saw how you searched it. I saw the exact words you typed: “dominant trans fucks submissive husband.” Don’t play innocent with me.

There was no way out of it.

I wanted to deny it, to shrink, to disappear. But my body betrayed me before my mouth did. I felt my cock swelling against my pajama pants, getting hard on its own with the humiliation, and she noticed that too. She looked down without even trying to hide it and arched an eyebrow.

—Look at that —she said softly, running her palm over the bulge without squeezing, just brushing enough to make a gasp escape me—. You get hard because I know. Look at you: all confident all day long, and inside you’re fantasizing about some woman with more cock than you putting you in your place.

Her words should have annoyed me. Instead they lit me up in a way I hadn’t felt in years of marriage. What we had worked, but it had become comfortable, predictable. This was anything but predictable.

—It’s not like that —I insisted, weakly—. It’s just a fantasy.

—A fantasy you’re going to live —she shot back, and her voice changed, turning deep and calm, the voice of someone who has already made up her mind—. I’m going to make it come true. My way. You’re going to blush so hard, be spread so wide, you’ll never forget it.

***

Several days passed without Marta mentioning it again. But I felt her eyes on me. When I stepped out of the shower, when I changed clothes, when we crossed in the hallway. She smiled to herself, like someone savoring a secret she hadn’t fully played yet.

I lived in a strange mix of shame and anticipation. I felt exposed, naked even when dressed, and that, far from putting me out, kept me in a constant state of suspense. I woke up with my cock hard and my hand on my ass without meaning to. I had no idea what she was planning. I didn’t dare ask either.

Thursday afternoon I got a message on my phone: “Come home early. There’s a surprise. And come properly showered.”

I read those words standing in the middle of the office and my mouth went dry. That “properly” was an order I understood perfectly. I left early, with some clumsy excuse, and drove home with my heart hammering my ribs and my half-hard cock pressing tight against my fly.

***

I found her in the living room. She was wearing a tight black outfit that outlined every curve, her hair tied up, her lips painted dark red. She was beautiful and dangerous at the same time. But she wasn’t alone.

On the sofa, with one leg crossed over the other and a glass of wine in her hand, there was a trans woman who took my breath away. Tall, black hair falling over her shoulders, full lips, endless legs peeking out beneath a short dress. I could make out the thick bulge pressed against the fabric at her thigh. She looked me up and down with absolute calm, as if she already knew more about me than I would ever dare admit.

—What… what is this? —I stammered, my pulse racing.

Marta stood up and took my hand, pulling me toward the center of the room.

—Your fantasy, silly —she said with poisonous sweetness—. This is Vanessa. I met her through a friend. I told her about you, your little browser secret. I told her my husband is dying for some cocked-up woman to shove it all the way down his throat. And it turns out she likes men like you.

Vanessa set the glass on the table and laughed, a deep, confident laugh that ran straight down my spine.

—So you’re the one who’s been dreaming about me without even knowing it yet —she said, slowly uncrossing her legs and opening the dress just enough for me to see the start of her thigh and the dark shadow of something big waiting beneath—. Marta told me you pretend to be very tough on the outside. Let’s see how long that act lasts when I’ve got it all the way inside you.

I froze in place, burning with a shame unlike any other. Marta gently pushed me from behind, bringing me closer to Vanessa.

—Take your clothes off —my wife ordered in my ear—. Slowly. Let her see what she’s working with.

***

I obeyed. My fingers trembled with every button. I felt ridiculous and, at the same time, more turned on than I remembered ever being. When I was naked, my cock already gave me away, hard, pointing at the ceiling, the shiny tip wet with the drop that had been dripping since the car. Impossible to hide.

—Look at you —said Marta, slowly circling me, stopping behind me and spreading my cheeks with two fingers, shamelessly, so Vanessa could see everything—. You can tell from a mile away. You’d been keeping this in for years and it only took one afternoon for the mask to fall off. And look at what a tight little ass my husband has, Vanessa. He’s never used it. It’s all yours.

Vanessa stood up. She slowly slid the straps of her dress down, letting the fabric slip to the floor. Her body was a perfect contradiction: soft, firm breasts with dark erect nipples, narrow hips and, between her legs, hanging heavy and half-hard, a thick, veined cock with tight balls underneath. Much bigger than mine. She grabbed it with her hand and pumped it a couple of times, pointing it at my face as it swelled visibly. I couldn’t look away.

—This is what you wanted, right? —she asked, coming closer until the hot tip brushed my lips—. Something that makes you feel small. Something you can’t boss around. A cock bigger than yours, asshole.

She put a hand on the back of my neck, firm but not rough, and guided me downward. I fell to my knees on the rug as if my body had already decided for me.

—Open your mouth —she said softly—. Wide open. We’re starting here, so you understand what comes next.

I obeyed. I felt the weight, the heat, the salty taste and clean-skin taste of her glans filling my mouth all at once. She shoved it down my throat without mercy, and I gagged and choked while she held my head and fucked my mouth in a slow but relentless rhythm. Saliva ran down my chin, hanging in strings down to my thighs. Vanessa pulled it out all the way and slapped my face a couple of times with her wet cock, pressing it against my cheeks, against my swollen lips.

—Suck it properly —she growled—. Salivate my cock, you filthy thing. You’re going to need it soaked for later.

Behind me, Marta had sat on the arm of the sofa, hiked her skirt up to her waist and pushed her panties aside. She had two fingers in her pussy, sliding them in and out glossy with wetness, while she watched every detail with a possessor’s smile.

—What a sight —she murmured, her voice thick—. Always so formal, so proper, and look at you now, on your knees, sucking it like a whore. And the best part is you’re loving every second. You’re drooling and your cock’s dripping too. Don’t deny it.

I couldn’t deny it. I didn’t want to. Every word from her pushed me a little lower and, by the same measure, brought me closer to the edge. Vanessa rammed it into my throat, cutting off my air, and when I started to struggle she pulled back for a second, let me breathe, and then shoved it back in until her balls slapped against me, crushing my nose against her smooth pubis.

—This husband of yours has a whore’s throat, Marta —she said, laughing—. It didn’t take him long to get used to it.

—I told you. He’s had it inside him all along.

***

After a while, Vanessa hauled me up by the hair and pushed me against the back of the sofa, folded forward, ass high and on full display. Marta came up behind me, sliding her hands over my lower back and spreading my cheeks wide open.

—Look at that little pink hole —she whispered, and I felt her hot tongue licking me from top to bottom along the cleft, sinking into my asshole, soaking it while I trembled and moaned uncontrollably—. Relax, love. It stings at first, but I know you’ve been craving this since that laptop night.

She spat on my entrance, spread the saliva with her thumb and shoved one whole finger inside me at once. I jolted and growled. She worked it in and out, opening the way, adding a second finger, twisting them inside me until I began pushing my ass back on my own, wanting more.

—See how slutty he is? —she said to Vanessa, laughing—. He’s already fucking my hand on his own. Put it in already, he’s dying for it.

Vanessa moved in behind me. I felt the thick, hot head of her cock press against my asshole, pushing, applying pressure, searching for the way in. She entered me carefully, millimeter by millimeter, giving me time. The first instant was a lash, a mix of pressure and burning that made me clench my teeth and grab the leather sofa with both hands. I felt opened, split, invaded.

And then, slowly, that feeling turned into something else, a current running up my spine and wrenching a deep moan from me that I didn’t recognize as mine. Vanessa kept pushing, centimeter by centimeter, until I felt her hot balls slam against mine and her pubis pressed to my ass.

—It’s all the way in now —she panted in my ear, holding still for a second, letting me feel the thick bulge filling me completely—. Feel it? All the way down. See? Your body knew long before your head did.

She started moving. Long pullouts, almost all the way out, and deep thrusts that made me snort against the leather. Thump, thump, thump, a slow, devastating rhythm that shook my whole body. My cock, trapped between my stomach and the sofa, rubbed itself with each slam, leaving a sticky trail.

Marta kissed my neck, bit my earlobe, shoved two fingers into my mouth so I could suck them while Vanessa set the beat.

—Admit it —my wife told me in my ear, her voice rough with lust—. The more I remind you what you are, the more you like it. The harder she fucks you, the more you spread your legs. I can see it. I can feel it. You’re getting fucked by a woman with a cock in front of your wife and you don’t want it to stop.

—Don’t stop —I begged, and I didn’t even recognize myself—. Please, don’t stop.

Vanessa laughed and sped up. She dug her nails into my hips, pulling me back so she could drive in harder, deeper. The sofa started banging against the wall. Every thrust squeezed me exactly where it drove me insane, that inner spot I hadn’t even known existed and that now made me see stars. She grabbed my shoulders, arching my back until she found that exact angle, and pounded me there, fast, merciless.

I fell apart. I came without anyone touching my cock, spilling in strong spurts against the sofa leather with a long shudder, moaning like an animal, clenching my ass around her cock in spasms that milked it from the inside. Vanessa growled, increased the pace for a few more thrusts and buried herself to the balls, staying still.

—There it goes —she panted—. Take it. Take it all.

I felt her cock throbbing inside me, shot after shot, filling me with hot semen. Marta let out a moan beside me, her hand frantic between her legs, and came too, biting my shoulder.

—Fuck, what a mess —she said afterward, laughing, amused, running a finger over my flushed cheek and then over the white stream that dribbled from my ass when Vanessa slowly pulled out—. Look at you. It didn’t even take much. And now you’re full to the brim.

***

Vanessa collapsed onto the sofa, catching her breath, her cock still shiny and half-hard between her legs, wearing a satisfied smile. Marta took my chin and made me lift my head to look at her.

—Go on, go to the bathroom and look at yourself in the mirror —she said, almost tenderly, while a warm thread kept slipping down my thigh—. I want you to see the face you’ve got right now. How flushed and happy you are at the same time. And I want you to see how you’re dripping. So you won’t forget.

I got up on shaky legs and went to the hallway mirror. What I saw gave me back a man who didn’t look like me and yet was more me than ever: tousled, blushing, lips swollen from sucking cock, eyes bright with something I’d been hiding for far too long, and someone else’s semen sliding down the inner side of my thigh.

When I came back to the living room, Vanessa was already getting dressed. She winked at me before saying goodbye to Marta with two kisses, like two old friends who had just closed a favor.

—Take care of him —she said from the doorway—. And let me know when he wants a repeat. He will. And next time bring him to me with his ass already stretched out, because I want to fuck him on his knees while you eat him out.

***

Since that afternoon, something changed between Marta and me. Not for the worse, quite the opposite. My wife uses what she discovered that night to tease me, to remind me with a glance in the middle of dinner with friends, with a whisper in my ear when I least expect it, with her hand sliding between my cheeks when she walks behind me in the kitchen.

And I, who kept it hidden for years like a shameful secret, can no longer pretend what isn’t true. I can’t deny that I like being fucked. I can’t deny that my mouth waters when I think of Vanessa. I can’t deny that, deep down, I’m grateful I forgot to close those tabs.