An Abiding Love Pt. 02

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It was a Saturday morning about two months after Jimmy and I had first consummated our love. We were lying in bed. His glorious cock rested on his thigh and I was sucking it to life.

‘Darling,’ he said. ‘Please stop a moment. There’s something I need to say to you.’

For him to stop me in any love making was so unusual I became worried. Was he going to tell me it was all a mistake and that he needed a younger woman?

He saw my fright and immediately comforted me.

‘Stop this insecurity. You have me until you’re tired of me and I hope that day will never come. You are my life.’

I licked along the side of his cock, momentarily took his glans into my lips and stroked his piss slit with my tongue before gently replacing my most adored piece of meat in the world on his thigh.

‘Then what is so important you stop me having my favourite breakfast?’ I asked.

He kissed me on the lips and I snuggled down in the space between his arm and his chest. I kissed his biceps before turning my attention to his nipple.

‘Stop it, you naughty girl. I’ll have to spank you if you keep on distracting me.’

‘Promises,’ I replied but I did as I was told.

‘I think we should move house,’ he said.

I pulled myself round far enough to look up at his face.

‘But you were born in this house. We’ve lived here the whole of your life.’

‘And that’s the problem. Everybody here knows we’re father and son. You have to put on men’s clothes even to go out into the garden. You are my wife and I want us to live where you can be my wife all day and every day.’

‘That sounds wonderful but how can we?’

‘Listen. You already do your design work at home. You can do it anywhere. I need to be able to commute to the laboratory but I don’t socialise with any of them outside work. They think I’m peculiar but they know I’m the best chemist they have so they let me do practically as I like. What we need is an isolated house where we can be our true selves. You are one sexy woman and I want you to be able to be her all the time. Anyway, I think you could pass as a woman with anyone who doesn’t know you as a man, particularly now you’ve grown your hair even longer. And it is such pretty hair.’

He took my curls in his hand and sniffed the perfume I wear. He leant in to kiss my ear. His tongue found its way into the whorls and I shivered with anticipation as he ran his hands over my clitie cock and balls, as he now calls them. He pulled one of my legs over his arm and pushed the head of his cock into my pucker. She opened. He entered and began such an assault on my cunt that I was blissfully sore and full of his baby batter by the time he finished.

‘So that’s decided,’ he said. I bit his istanbul escort neck, leaving a hickey, in response.

We identified a likely area for the sort of home we wanted, where the countryside runs right up to the edge of the city and there are old houses with plenty of ground. Jimmy gained details of a selection of houses he thought might be what we wanted. He whittled them down to four, then I made myself as feminine as possible and we went together to see them. The difficult part was escaping from our house without me being seen in my dress and heels, but we managed by my getting in the car inside the garage and Jimmy opening and closing the garage doors.

At the first house the agent was waiting for us and I was particularly nervous. His reaction would show us if I could pass. It went triumphantly. He must have thought Jimmy had married an older woman, but he clearly found me convincing and attractive, since, when Jimmy introduced us, the man’s voice caught in his throat and he had difficulty controlling a hard-on throughout our time with him. It did wonders for my confidence and for my ego. Jimmy was furious and told me what he thought of lecherous estate agents once we had got rid of the man. He was all for accompanying us to all the houses on the list but Jimmy put the kibosh on that. He had had enough of his wife being ogled. So we went to the other three houses without my panting swain.

One house stood out above all the others. It was a mellow brick house of the late seventeenth century, William and Mary period. It wasn’t too large, built for a prosperous farmer, we thought, rather than for someone grand, but the rooms were spacious and well-proportioned. It had five acres of garden and orchard, was surrounded by a ten-foot high brick wall, of the same period as the house, and was entirely secluded. In the house we immediately identified our bedroom, a lovely room with views over mile after mile of pasture and woodland, reaching to the swell of the higher chalk downs on the horizon. A flock of sheep was grazing in the far distance and we watched it slowly moving across the uplands. Below our bedroom was the principal drawing room which looked onto an enclosed garden, in which low box hedges separated beds of rosemary, thyme, lads’ love and marjoram, planted around roses and lilac trees. We stood in the middle of this garden, where four paths met at a fountain, and we looked back at the house. It was as though it spoke to us. ‘Come here,’ it seemed to say, ‘Come here and be happy.’

Jimmy took me in his arms and kissed me. We needed no discussion. The house had decided it wanted us and we agreed. We moved in three months later.

My only set of normal female clothes was the dress I had worn halkalı escort for our house-hunting. I set about buying a more extensive wardrobe for my feminine self, less provocative than the lady boy clothes I had. My purchases gave Jimmy and me great pleasure. I had worn my existing wedding ring so far, but one day Jimmy arrived home with an engagement ring and a more feminine wedding ring. My masculine life was fast disappearing as though it had never been, except, of course, that without my masculine life there would have been no Jimmy.

Because I work from home I have settled into the habit of tending our garden and cooking our evening meal. I love it. I have become the housewife I now realise I had always wanted to be. We eat breakfast together, me sitting in my housecoat, then after my husband has gone to work I bathe and dress. I love shaving my pudenda and securing my cock and balls between my legs before selecting my undies for the day. I love the glide of stockings up my shaved legs and the gentle grip of a pair of silk panties. If I am going to work in the garden I tie my hair up in a headscarf, wear only the slightest makeup and a tweed skirt and a blouse, perhaps with a gilet if the weather is cool. To someone like me, new to the pleasure of being a woman, there is a sensual joy in kneeling down to weed a border, feeling my thighs clasp my clitie, or in crossing my stockinged legs and feeling the gentle pressure of my thighs on my hidden cock.

Before my husband returns home I prepare our meal, take a shower and change into a dress and am ready to greet him. Jimmy never demands any of this. I do it because I want to. My reward is the look of love which lives deep in his eyes and never wavers from the moment in the morning when he wakes until his eyes close for sleep.

It was now a year since my son and I became husband and wife. To celebrate our anniversary Jimmy took me for dinner to a Michelin- starred restaurant. The meal was good; I was treated exactly like any other woman in the place, but I realised that I have become essentially a home body. I was delighted to come back here and for us to sit together having a cup of coffee.

Our love -making continues to be ecstatic and we do not need any one else. He is sufficient to me and I am, he says, sufficient to him. We rarely go out, except to do shopping or other mundane activities. We may attend a concert or a play, but that is becoming rare. I am happy just to be with him and he with me.

Sometimes Jimmy likes me to sit on his knee. He will stroke my leg, unfasten my stocking and run his finger under the edge of my panties to touch my cock into life. I lean in to kiss him and he nips my tongue between his teeth mecidiyeköy escort or sucks it into his mouth. He likes to unzip the back of my dress and to slip it off my shoulders, giving him access to my breasts. He will unfasten my bra, bend his face to my nipples and suckle on them. Then he leads me into our bedroom, unless he decides to take me in some other part of the house or the garden. He has taken me in almost every room in the house.

Our favourite place for making love continues to be our bed, with the windows open to the summer breezes which waft in to us from the downs, carrying the scent of thyme. He will unfetter my cock and balls and kiss and suck on them, but then he will raise my legs and address my pucker with his tongue until he makes me squirm with delight, then he will enter and bear us both into heaven.

Sometimes he likes me to initiate things. I particularly enjoy grazing on his chest, running my fingers through his chest hair and licking his nipples before taking my tongue into the thickets of his pits, where I taste and smell his man-scent so strongly I sometimes come simply from the aroma. I lick down to his belly button, then to his thighs. I lick inside their swelling contours and come at last to the holy of holies, his cock and balls, where I feast on each peach-sized ball, adoring the source of his potent baby batter. I take his cock in my hands, kiss the tip, then engulf the head with my mouth and begin the action of deep-throating his love pole. If he can stop himself from coming he withdraws his cock from my mouth to take it to its home in my cunt. My favourite time is when he comes in my throat, leaves enough cum for me to taste my essential food as he withdraws, and then, with the rapid recovery time of a young man, within minutes he takes me again in my pussy, so that he impregnates me from both ends. He fucks me like the stallion he is and gives me the greatest gift a man can give the woman he loves.

So we pass our lives in love and passion. Every day my son takes possession of his daddy-wife’s cunt and I, his daddy-wife, am the possessor of his cock, his balls and his sperm. He is the love of my life and I am his. Often I lie awake after he has gone to sleep. At times his cock remains inside me after our love -making; he snuggles up to my back and falls asleep thus, and I rejoice in the physical proof of our continuing love. At other times his cock slips out of my cunt as it becomes flaccid and he turns on his back. His eyelids close and I study my son-husband as he sleeps. His beauty takes my breath away. He says the same of me but in his case it is true. I look at the high cheekbones, the straight nose, the firm, masculine bow of his lips, the arch of his eyebrows and the long sable lashes lying on his cheeks and my heart is full to overflowing of love and gratitude. I am astonished that my wonderful boy thinks I am worthy of all this. I gently kiss his sleeping eyes; I lay my arm across his perfect chest and I join him in our dream of love.

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