I was feeling very nervous. Nervous. And shy. And exposed. And humiliated. I hadn’t seen my two best friends since my wedding. And the reason should be fairly obvious. There was no way that I could face them after what my wife had done to me since our wedding. But they had been calling non-stop, and I knew they were suspicious that something was wrong.
Finally, the other day, my wife told me it was time.
“Time for what?” I asked her.
“Time for you to face your friends. And to tell them the truth.”
“The truth? What truth?” I asked her, nearly in tears.
“That you are a sissy silly,” she explained, as if it was obvious, and that I was a dunce not to get it.
At first, they didn’t believe it. Until my wife made me strip for them and show them two things. One was my clitty, proving I was not really a genetic girl, despite how hot I looked. The other was a tattoo the three of us had gotten on a Spring Break trip in college. That was the cincher.
It disturbed me to see the erections forming in their jeans as I stood before them. And it worried me too, because I feared my wife might get an evil idea and then, well, you know….
Finally, the other day, my wife told me it was time.
“Time for what?” I asked her.
“Time for you to face your friends. And to tell them the truth.”
“The truth? What truth?” I asked her, nearly in tears.
“That you are a sissy silly,” she explained, as if it was obvious, and that I was a dunce not to get it.
At first, they didn’t believe it. Until my wife made me strip for them and show them two things. One was my clitty, proving I was not really a genetic girl, despite how hot I looked. The other was a tattoo the three of us had gotten on a Spring Break trip in college. That was the cincher.
It disturbed me to see the erections forming in their jeans as I stood before them. And it worried me too, because I feared my wife might get an evil idea and then, well, you know….
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