Weekend Wife

But what if you're busy during the week?

Jenny and I met our freshman year and it was love at first sight.  We were young, fell in love hard, and I think both of us thought it would just be that college fling that would burn bright and fade away almost as furiously.  But when we both got in the same grad school and had been together for four years, we started to think that this might be our forever relationship.  When I started talking about a possible future… marriage, kids, retirement… Jenny seemed to almost pull away.  I thought it was just jitters.  You know, a girl finally realizing that she was going to become a woman. 

When she finally told me why she was so hesitant though, it made sense even if at the same time it sounded completely ridiculous.  She explained that her family was cursed and whenever any of them entered into marriage they would have to accept their lovers gender.  According to her the curse was waning and would eventually disappear entirely, but that might still be three or four generations away.  Her great great great GREAT grandmother, when she was married, completely changed into a man while her new husband became the blushing bride.  Her grandparents also swapped just after they married, but every year or so, swapped back.  And her parents?  They seemed to swap for just a couple months at a time. 

That actually explained why I would go months without seeing her parents.  When they swapped genders, they didn’t exchange bodies.   Instead Jenny’s mother became a man that looked almost like her brother while her father changed and became a woman who could pass as his sister.  Oddly enough, the person I had always known as Jenny’s mom had grown up a boy in Nebraska.  She… he… grew up as a farmers kid stealing playboys and jacking off to images of Daisy from the Dukes of Hazzard.  They both sat me down, in bodies I didn’t recognize but with their personas that I would recognize anywhere, and told me that if I were to marry their daughter that I’d have to accept the curse in someway myself.  That at times, I’d be a woman while my wife would become my husband. 

Our marriage was glorious.  I loved Jenny far too completely to let something like a curse separate us.  The change was frighteningly fast though.  Friday morning, I kissed my bride for the first time in front of an audience of our family and friends.  Saturday morning, I awoke in our honeymoon sweet in Tahiti as a woman.  We were both shocked and surprised and scared.  While we both knew it would happen eventually, we thought we’d at least have our honeymoon to celebrate in our original genders.  We had hoped for a week of having sex as man and wife before figuring out how to live as woman and husband, and now we could barely stand to touch each other. 

We talked.  We cried.  We tried our very best to get to know each other with no idea how long we’d stay this way.  But on Monday morning I woke up next to my wife again.  We were both so happy that I don’t know if we ever stopped making love.  Some of that was love, some of it was lust, some of it was passion, but I know for me at least, some of it was the fear of never being able to do it again.  The rest of our honeymoon went off without a hitch and we got back to our little apartment in our little college town and tried to return to our normal lives.  It only took us a few weeks to see the pattern that our lives were going to follow.  Monday through Friday, we would be who we’d always been.   I would love my wife and she’d love me.  Saturday and Sunday, we’d be our different selves.  I’d try to accept my husband and he’d try to love me. 

It was strange changing our sexual rhythms.  Jenny and I were always close and when we were first getting to know each other and fall in love, we’d make love every chance we got.  But as we matured and became a couple our sex life had shifted to the weekends.   The weekdays were for school or other activities and we’d celebrate our union all weekend long.  And now as husband and wife, and wife and husband, our sexual time was limited to Mondays through Fridays.  With Jenny working as a grad assistant and me teaching the early morning freshman classes as a teachers assistant, our sex life waned to almost nothing. 

Graduating didn’t change anything in that regard.  Even before we accepted our new diplomas we both had jobs lined up and we both quickly committed to our careers.  Monday through Friday Jenny would wake up early and go to work in her smart looking business skirt and jacket while I’d go in later in my sharp looking suit.  By the time I got home, Jenny was settling down for bed, and our weekdays became as separated as our grad school weeks.   And maybe that sexual frustration is what led us to explore each other on the weekends. 

We talked a lot about it.  I wasn’t homosexual and had trouble seeing my wife in a man’s body as sexually appealing.  Jenny admitted that she wasn’t a lesbian and looked at me without any sexual desire while I was a woman.  But we both loved each other.  I loved this man who was my soulmate.  Jenny loved this woman who was her best friend.  At first we taught each other how to masturbate.  And oh my god that was hard to do.  Deep down I knew I was teaching something to my wife, but all my eyes could see was a man jacking off while watching naked men on his tablet.  Jenny later admitted she had the same problems, watching a woman stroke and caress herself while looking at naked women. 

It was actually easy to teach Jenny how to grip her new cock and rub it up and down.  While I never wanted any lubricant while I jerked off, she seemed to like a little bit of lotion…. But otherwise it’s grip and move her hand up and down.  But learning how to get myself off in this foreign sensitive curvy body was anything but easy.  Eventually I found myself sitting between Jenny’s strong hairy thighs while her large hand guided my petite fingers to where they’d be most effective.  The only thing that really made it difficult was our own arousals.  Jenny felt awkward as all hell with a naked woman between her legs… her hardening cock notwithstanding. 

At first we tried to keep her aroused by putting up a slide show on the television of sexy looking men.  But then I had such a hard problem as I could either watch her masculine hand on my smooth body or could watch what to me was soft gay porn on the tv.  So to keep us both aroused we changed the slideshow to some romantic porn on the television.  That way we could both keep our eyes on the screen as she guided my hands.  I don’t think either of us realized it at the time though… but she was also teaching me how to masturbate as a heterosexual woman would.  Whenever the scene focused on the sexy woman’s body, her hands slowed down my actions. And when the camera turned to the man she’d guide me into a more frantic motion. 

Our weekends fell into a sexually frustrated rhythm.  We’d both shower and get into some comfortable clothes… thank god we ended up almost exactly as each other’s size… and while I made us some breakfast Jenny would move to the bedroom and jack off.  I was happy that she was getting the release she deserved, but hearing him grunt and growl as he came was the new soundtrack to cooking.  Those sounds also became the soundtrack of my body’s desire.  It was probably just Pavlovian, but hearing that signaled that I would soon be getting my own release.  After eating we’d move into the living room and I’d settle in between her splayed legs.  As soon as we got the romantic porn playing, I’d feel those strong hands run down my arms and start guiding me into action.  My long fingernails were guided to touch and slide along my glistening pussy lips while my other hand was brought up to cup and caress my breasts and hardening nipples.  And all the while, my actions sped up while watching and focusing on the man and slowing when it turned to the woman. 

It would normally take me 30 or 40 minutes of this to attain my orgasm.  Maybe it was the feeling that she was touching her own body or watching the action on the screen while hearing me moan and coo… but while I came down from my high Jenny would move back up to the bedroom and masturbate again.  That processes would be repeated several times a day both Saturday and Sunday.  That activity was repeated for several weekends without change.  One Sunday we decided that I should try this by myself. I knew my sensitive spots and how to arouse and climax with my own hands after all.  But it just wasn’t the same.  My frustrated cries must have called Jenny from across the house because she soon slid next to me on the couch and again guided my hands.  I could see her cock, hard and bobbing and covered with the lotion and knew that she’d interrupted her own sexual release to help me.  So as the porn played and showed a woman giving a blow job to her lover I reached over and helped my wife… my husband… achieve the orgasm he was helping me to get.  My dainty hand could barely wrap around his throbbing cock but once it was there I fell into my own familiar up and down, grip and relax, slip and slide rhythm.  While it wasn’t a conscious decision, I followed Jenny’s lead on arousing her.  I worked harder as the film focused on the woman and slowed whenever it focused on the man.  A few moments later Jenny’s thick meaty fingers pushed past mine and slide up into my pussy.  We were now masturbating each other… and it was amazing.  It’s as though we were taking turns to the action in the film, raising each other’s arousal step by step.  When the couple on screen exploded in their orgasm, Jenny and I followed suit.

That’s the first time that we came together in these bodies.  Jenny covered my hand with his spunk while I threw my head back and bucked my hips into his fingers.  As our orgasms faded, we both realized that we’d just crossed some kind of Rubicon.  I’d never touched her manly body before, and while she’d helped me attain dozens of orgasms she’d never directly touched my feminine body before.  Our weekends changed from that point on.  We no longer had the goal of masturbating separately, and instead focused on trying to help each other out more and more.  We were nowhere near having sex though.  I could feel my gorge rise as I tried to imagine Jenny’s thick manhood spreading my pussy wide, and Jenny actually lost an erection as she tried to picture penetrating me with anything other than her fingers.  But our bodies still got used to touching each other.  Our minds still got used to being aroused by the opposite gender. 

By the time our second anniversary rolled around, Jenny and I had fallen into such a episodic life that it took us a long time to figure out when we’d last had sex in our original bodies.  We were both amazed and a little scared to realize it had been 7 months prior.  Our schedules still kept us apart on the weekdays and when we did find ourselves with time together we’d end up watching a movie or chatting over a nice dinner.  Sex just didn’t enter into our minds.  Like grad school, sex was for the weekends. 

It was Jenny that took the next big step.  It didn’t seem like much at the time, but it set the standard for the next few months of sexual exploration.  One beautiful Saturday afternoon as we both lied back breathing hard and recently spent, instead of getting up and moving to the bathroom to clean her hand, Jenny instead smiled at me and licked my juices off of her fingers.  Jenny hated tasting her own feminine fluids after sex when we were younger and I was always careful to make sure it didn’t get anywhere near her face, whether it was on my cock or fingers or lips.  But here she was, licking MY fluids off her beefy fingers.  The next day I worked myself up and after Jenny exploded in my hand, I brought it up to my petite tongue and tasted a man’s cum for the first time.  For the rest of the month we expanded on this ritual, cleaning each other up and licking it off our fingers. 

I followed that step with one of my own.  Five weeks after Jenny first ‘tasted’ my goddess juice, I leaned over after a particularly powerful orgasm and not only licked her spunk off my fingers but licked it directly off of her belly.  I tried very hard to ignore the big softening cock pointing at me, but I knew it was there.  And I knew where this path would eventually lead.  It took Jenny a bit longer to follow my lead, but I couldn’t’ exactly blame her as licking my ejaculate off of me was going far more intimate than licking and kissing my belly.   Instead, during one of our sessions a few weeks later she leaned over and started to gently lick at my diamond hard nipples. 

I guess my nipples are really sensitive as I came almost immediately.  It was my most powerful crest up to that point and it soon became a regular part of our mutual pleasuring of each other.  A few weeks later I built up the courage to share that extra pleasure with my husband.  I brought up the film I’d specifically picked and once it started I kneeled down in between his legs and smiled up at him.  I told him in a trembling voice how much I loved him and how much I wanted to be able to give this gift to him, but also how difficult this was for me.  My only request was that he sit still and not touch me as I worked on giving my husband his first blow job.  The film I’d selected was similar to what we were doing.  The man was sitting on a chair while his woman kneeled before him and started working on his cock.  His hands remained at his sides and thankfully so did Jenny’s.  I can’t imagine how erotic it must have felt as I took my time to work to that final important masculine crushing moment, but she held out and didn’t even stroke my hair.  My touches on him were soft and exploring.  My hands already knew their way around and stroked him to full hardness in no time.  But instead of pointing up into the air or pointing toward his belly, my husband’s cock was no pointed right at my face.  I almost changed my mind… I almost switched from my planned fellatio to an erotic facial… but I stuck to my plan and leaned forward to place a big wet kiss on the tip of his thick cock.  The response made my heart swell even as the remaining bits of my masculinity cringed.  Hearing my husbands groan of pleasure and feeling him throb in my hand was all the encouragement I needed to continue.  My plan was laid out in my head and now that my lips had touched a cock and lightning hadn’t struck me down, I moved on to my tongue.  I couldn’t bear to look up at him as I started to lick my way up and down his length.  So instead of seeing his affectionate gaze my vision was filled with his cock and pubic hair. 

His flavor was surprising.  I had expected it to taste similar to his cum which I’d grown more than accustomed to.  But this simply tasted clean and like his lips or skin.  I was still fighting my internal demons, so I kept licking and kissing his manhood for several long moments.  I’m not sure I could have withstood such an erotic display and sensation, but Jenny was strong and in at least a sexual way, stronger than I ever was.  Manlier than I ever was.  When I’d done enough to get comfortable with my man on my lips and tongue there was only one sensation next.  If I had looked up and seen a look of needful lust or mad passion I probably would have backed off.  I’m not sure I could have been in such a vulnerable position giving up what I thought of as my masculinity to someone who saw me as a sex object.  But Jenny’s gift to me, even if she didn’t know she was giving it, was looking down at me with love and adoration.  At a glance I knew I wouldn’t have to tell her how difficult this was for me and how hard I was working to give her pleasure and be the woman that she deserved.  As I leaned forward and took him into my mouth felt something that I hadn’t expected.  Something I thought would never be possible being a woman for my husband. 

I felt pleasure. 

Having my husband cum directly down my throat, or even entering my throat was something that we were still far far away from.  On this first blow job as our eyes locked and shared our emotions I knew right when he was going to orgasm and pulled my lips free of him, jacking him off onto my heaving breasts.  When he cupped my face and pulled me up into a long passionate kiss, he didn’t even hesitate about tasting himself on my lips.  We both celebrated what years ago I would have considered my lowest point, but now was one of my greatest accomplishments.  It took Jenny another three weeks to work up the courage to go down on me, but I was in no hurry.  I not only found out that I enjoyed making my husband happy with my lips and tongue, but I also found out that I honestly enjoyed giving head.  I think I might enjoy it even if the cock I was sucking felt no pleasure from my acts at all.  Jenny eventually had her own realization about cunnilingus.  Not only did she enjoy giving me orgasm after orgasm with her tongue, she enjoyed the process itself.  For the rest of the year most of our weekends were spent with us in the 69 position.  And at this point we didn’t even need the porn in the background. 

While I was busy becoming his cock sucking wife and he was busy becoming my pussy lapping husband our weekends were something to be looked forward to all week long.  But the weeks themselves were strangely normal if otherwise sex free.  I felt no desire to be with a man during those times and Jenny admitted that she was still turned off my women during the week.  And we both admitted that while we still loved each other dearly, we just didn’t have any desire to have sex with each other.  Sex was for the weekends.  Those Mondays through Fridays we were a loving married over worked couple that simply never had sex. 

What lead us to crossing that final line was something as innocent and painful as an abscessed tooth.  I had woken up Wednesday morning with an ache in my jaw I hoped it would just pass.  By Friday I was in agony and got an emergency appointment with the Dentist.  He pulled the tooth that day and told me the swelling would go down in a week or so, but the pain in my jaw might last a few weeks longer.  I was hearbroken as Jenny and I had found out that physical changes in our weekeday life would transition to our weekend lives.  When she twisted her ankle one week, he could barely walk on Saturday.  When I scraped my shoulder one Friday, I still had to clean it and put a fresh bandaid on it on Saturday.  So this aching jaw pain would last well into the time that I knew I was going to want to use my mouth on my husband. 

Jenny was more concerned with my pain on Friday night, but I could see his disappointment Saturday morning.  He still spend our sexual time together that morning.  I simply used my hands instead of my tongue.  When I did try to take him into my mouth, the mere act of spreading my jaw wide was painful enough to make me regret it.  Afterward as I scooped his cum from my cheeks into my mouth I jokingly told him that he was just too big for me.  His playful slap to my ass still hovering above his face and his response that most women liked big cocks was enough to plant the idea in both of our heads. 

We tried to push it out of our minds.  We agreed that we both wanted to be our full selves… pain free… if we ever decided to try making love.  But once that seed is planted, it’s going to grow whether we fan it’s flame or not.  Being together in these bodies and not having sex was as awkward as being in our normal bodies and having sex.  Every commercial on TV that showed an attractive woman made my man shift uncomfortably in his seat.  Any moment of a movie that showed a handsome man made my panties grow moist.  But we still fought it off.  We still wanted our first time to be special.  We had another release that night, Jenny cumming all over my face while her tongue sent me to seventh heaven, before going to bed. 

That night dreams of having sex with my husband kept waking me up.  I’d be stradling his lap and lowering myself onto his hardness.  I’d be lying under him, spreading my legs wide only to wrap around him so tightly.  He’d be picking me up and fucking me against the wall or taking me from behind in a doggy style.  When the clock read 5 am, I finally just got out of bed knowing that there was no rest to be had there.  Any hope I had of some regular sexual relief was dashed when my jaw throbbed painfully…. Probably from all my tossing and turning.  I slipped one of my weekday white shirts on and padded barefoot out into the kitchen.  While the coffee brewed I took one of the prescribed ibuprofen and tried to get the dreams out of my head.  But my wet slit down below told me that my body was already primed and ready, even if my jaw was holding out on me. 

I heard Jenny walk in behind me as I stood next to the table with my cuppa of morning brew.  When I glanced over my shoulder at him and saw his harness trying to rip his underwear open, I knew that the dreams I had were something that Jenny shared.  I actually felt my pussy bear down on it’s emptiness as I wondered how he dreamed of taking me.  The twinkle in his eye and the slightest of nods from me was all it took for us to agree.  Closing my eyes I leaned forward and pressed my curvy ass out until my hands landed on the table. 

If I had had time to plan, if I had written about what I wanted for the first time my husband made love to me I’m sure it would have involved us being face to face.  My desire to kiss him and see his eyes was very strong in me, not to mention my desire to reach out and touch his face and his shoulders and his broad chest.  But as Jenny stepped behind me and pulled the shirt from my shoulders and putting my breasts out on display I knew that this was going to be perfection.  As his hands slipped down to my tiny waist and gripped my hot skin we both murmured together “I Love You”.  I could feel his cock resting up high on my ass and as if we’d already considered our height difference I moved up onto my tiptoes while Jenny spread his stance and lowered himself to the perfect height. 

There was no waiting or hesitation.  No thoughtful playing or teasing.  Both of our arousals were at peak and the moan that spilled past my lips was matched by the heavy growl that came from his throat as my loving husband slide his thick meaty cock into my quivering waiting pussy.  Making long passionate love would happen later.  This was us correcting the wrong of waiting years for something that should have happened back on our honeymoon.  Our first coupling was Jenny gripping me tight and pounding into me as I moaned and screamed and pushed back onto him. 

We talk about that morning often.  Neither of us know why we waited so long, but we also can’t pinpoint the time that we’d have been ready before then.  Regardless of the ‘before’, we made love often and regularly afterwards.  All of my positions I dreamed of were matched and even more amazing in reality.  We’ve now been married for six years.  While we make love in many different ways and positions, our anniversary morning is always spent with me bending over a table and Jenny taking me from behind. 

The only disappointment in our lives was the thought of not having children.  Jenny’s mom got pregnant and kept her body through the entire pregnancy, changing back the day after giving birth to her daughter.  But she also tells the story of a long ago relative that swapped genders mid pregnancy… the unborn child simply stayed with the feminine partner, and they shared the joy and burden of carrying a child.  Since finding out that fact, we’re now actively trying to get pregnant.  Both us are looking forward to carrying a child and both of us are looking forward to being a good father.  







source:  X-Art