Wife Watches Husband Suck Transsexual Cock

Delphine sat across from Wesley in their softly lit living room, the low hum of the city outside their windows a distant backdrop to the heat building between them. At thirty-two, she was all soft curves and sharp hunger, her dark hair loose over bare shoulders as she leaned forward in her silk robe. Wesley, thirty-four and devoted, shifted on the couch opposite her, his broad frame tense with the same mix of nerves and arousal that had defined their months of exploration. They had been circling his submissive bisexual fantasies for half a year—late-night confessions, shared videos, her fingers guiding his while she whispered about how beautiful he would look on his knees. Tonight the air felt thicker, charged.

She set her wine glass down and met his eyes. “I’ve been thinking about it every night,” Delphine said, her voice low and steady. “Watching you. Really watching you. On your knees, sucking transsexual cock. Two of them, hard and thick, while I sit right there and tell you how deep to take it.” Her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t look away. “I want to see you eager for it, Wesley. My husband, open-mouthed and grateful.”

Wesley’s throat worked. He had known this was coming; the fantasies had grown more specific, more urgent. His cock twitched against his jeans at the picture she painted. “Delphine…” He exhaled, palms open on his thighs. “I’ve thought about it too. Kneeling for them while you watch. Being used like that for you.” Heat climbed his neck. “I’m nervous as hell. But I want it. I want to do exactly what you want.”

They talked for another hour, voices raw, bodies restless. She described the two women she had already messaged through a discreet private group—Fiona, twenty-eight, voluptuous and smiling in her photos, and Warrick, thirty-one, tall and commanding with an unmistakable bulge even in the clothed shots. Wesley asked questions in a rough whisper: how big, how dominant, would they be gentle or rough. Delphine answered every one while her hand slipped between her thighs under the robe. By the time they sent the invitation, Wesley’s erection was obvious and his agreement absolute. “I’ll perform exactly as you want,” he told her. “On my knees. Sucking them. For you.”

Two nights later the doorbell rang. Delphine opened it in a short black dress that clung to her hips, Wesley hovering just behind her in a soft open-collar shirt and dark trousers that already felt too tight. Fiona stepped in first, twenty-eight and lush, her full breasts pressed against a low-cut top, hips swaying in a tight skirt that barely covered the heavy outline of her cock. Warrick followed, thirty-one, taller, shoulders squared under a tailored shirt unbuttoned enough to show the smooth plane of her chest, trousers cut to display the thick length already beginning to harden along her thigh. Both women were stunning, unmistakably adult, confident, and smiling with open intent.

“Delphine,” Fiona said, voice warm as she leaned in to kiss the wife’s cheek. “Wesley. We’ve been looking forward to this.” Her gaze dropped briefly to the front of his pants and she smiled wider.

Warrick’s eyes were darker, assessing. She shook Wesley’s hand with a firm grip that lingered. “You look ready to be good for us,” she murmured, and the words alone made his cock jump.

They moved into the living room. Soft lamps, the couch and two deep armchairs arranged so nothing would be hidden. Delphine poured drinks—nothing strong, just enough to wet throats—then settled into the armchair with a clear view of the center of the room. Wesley sat on the couch between the two women, already flushed. Fiona’s thigh pressed against his. Warrick stretched an arm along the back of the cushions, fingertips brushing the nape of his neck.

“So,” Fiona said, shifting so the heavy shape of her cock was impossible to ignore under the thin fabric of her skirt. “Your wife tells us you’ve been aching to get on your knees. That you want to taste us.” She ran a hand slowly down her own thigh, then over the growing bulge, letting it thicken under her palm. “Look how hard I’m getting just thinking about your mouth.”

Wesley’s breath stuttered. Delphine watched every flicker of his face, her own nipples tight against the dress. “Tell them,” she whispered across the space. “Tell them what you want, baby.”

“I want to suck you,” Wesley said, voice rough. His erection strained visibly now. “Both of you. I want you to use my mouth while Delphine watches.” The words came out shaky but honest. His pulse hammered.

Warrick leaned closer, her commanding presence filling the air. She guided Wesley’s hand to her trousers, letting him feel the thick, heavy length already half-hard and still growing. “Feel that? That’s what you’re going to choke on.” She kept his palm there, slow-rolling her hips so he could map the full size of her. “Your wife wants to see you take every inch. Are you going to be a good boy and do it?”

“Yes,” he breathed. “Please.”

Fiona laughed softly, delighted, and hiked her skirt higher until the base of her cock and the heavy balls beneath were framed by lace. She was already fully hard, the thick shaft curving upward, flushed and veined. “Come here a little,” she coaxed, guiding his free hand. “Stroke us both. Show Delphine how much you want it.”

Wesley’s fingers wrapped around Fiona first—hot, silky skin over rigid flesh—then returned to Warrick, still trapped in fabric but pulsing. He stroked them in turn, awed and aching, while Delphine’s breathing turned ragged. She slipped one hand under her own dress, rubbing slow circles over her soaked panties as she watched her husband’s hands work.

“That’s it,” Delphine murmured, filthy and soft. “Look at those cocks, Wesley. Thick and beautiful. You’re going to kneel for them soon. You’re going to open wide and let them fuck your throat while I sit right here and come to the sight of it.” Her free hand gripped the arm of the chair. “You’re already leaking in your pants, aren’t you? Submissive little slut for me.”

The degradation hit him like heat. Wesley groaned, hips shifting. “I am. I want it so bad. Please—I need to taste them.”

Fiona and Warrick exchanged a glance full of dark amusement and rising hunger. Fiona stood first, stepping between Wesley’s knees so her cock bobbed inches from his face. She stroked it slowly, the head already glistening. “Not yet,” she teased. “We want you desperate first. Keep touching. Keep begging.”

Warrick rose as well, unfastening her trousers with deliberate calm. She pushed them down just enough to free her cock—long, heavy, thicker than Fiona’s, the head flared and dark. She wrapped her fingers around the base and tapped the tip lightly against Wesley’s cheek. “Open your mouth. Just tongue out. Show your wife how hungry you are.”

Wesley obeyed instantly, tongue extending, eyes glassy with need. Delphine’s fingers moved faster under her dress. “Christ, look at you,” she whispered. “My husband, tongue out for two hung transsexual cocks. You’re perfect like this. Keep going. Tell them how much you want to suck.”

“I want to suck you both,” Wesley said around his extended tongue, voice thick. “I want to feel you on my tongue, down my throat. I want Delphine to watch me swallow every drop you give me.” His own cock was a rigid line against his zipper, wetness darkening the fabric. “Please let me. I’m so fucking hard for it.”

Fiona dragged the head of her cock across his lower lip, leaving a shiny trail of precum. Warrick did the same from the other side, the two thick shafts framing his face. They didn’t push in yet—just painted his mouth, teased the corners, let him scent and taste the salt of them while Delphine’s soft moans filled the room.

“Feel how hard they are for you,” Delphine urged, leaning forward now, dress hiked, fingers visibly working her clit. “Smell them. They’re going to ruin your throat tonight and I’m going to love every second. Beg properly, Wesley. Beg like the devoted husband I know you are.”

Wesley’s voice cracked with raw need. “Please. Please let me suck your cocks. Fiona—Warrick—I need them in my mouth. I need to kneel and take them while my wife watches. I’ll be so good. I’ll suck until my jaw aches. Please.”

The electric tension in the room snapped tighter. Fiona’s cock twitched against his lips. Warrick’s hand settled in Wesley’s hair, not forcing, just holding. Delphine’s eyes shone with dark delight and pure arousal as she watched her husband reduced to open, pleading submission between two hard transsexual cocks. Everyone was past the edge of restraint; the air itself felt ready to break. Wesley’s mouth stayed open, waiting, while the two women stroked themselves slowly in front of him and his wife’s filthy whispers kept pouring fuel on the fire.

Wesley’s tongue remained extended, glistening, as Fiona finally pushed forward. The blunt head of her thick cock slid over it, heavy and hot, painting a fresh smear of precum across the flat of his tongue before she eased the first two inches past his lips. He moaned around the intrusion, eyes fluttering shut for a second before he forced them open again—Delphine wanted to see every second. She had already slid to the edge of her armchair, dress rucked high around her hips, bare thighs parted so her fingers could stroke slow and wet over her clit while she watched her husband take the first real mouthful.

“That’s it,” she breathed, voice thick. “Suck her properly. Look how her cock stretches your lips.”

Fiona’s hand settled gently in Wesley’s hair, guiding rather than forcing. “Good boy,” she murmured, hips rolling so another thick inch sank onto his tongue. The shaft was veined and solid, the skin silky-hot, and the musky scent of her filled his nose. He hollowed his cheeks and sucked, tasting salt and clean skin, tongue working the underside the way he had imagined for months. Warrick stood close on his other side, still stroking her own heavier cock, the flared head brushing Wesley’s cheek in deliberate little taps that left sticky trails.

“Kneel,” Warrick said, quiet but absolute. “Center of the room. We want your wife to have the perfect view.”

Wesley slid off the couch onto the soft rug without hesitation, knees parting, spine straight, mouth still wrapped around Fiona. His own cock strained painfully inside his trousers, untouched and leaking. Delphine rose just long enough to drag her armchair forward until she sat mere inches away, close enough that he could hear the wet sounds of her fingers circling her swollen clit, close enough to smell her arousal. She kept the dress hiked, panties tugged aside, and her free hand rested on the arm of the chair as she leaned in.

“Open wider,” she directed, eyes locked on the wet stretch of his mouth. “I want to see how deep you can take her. Show me that eager throat.”

Fiona groaned softly and pushed deeper. The thick head nudged the back of Wesley’s tongue, then farther, until he gagged once—wet, involuntary—and saliva spilled down his chin. He breathed hard through his nose, eyes watering, and forced himself to relax. Another inch slid home. Fiona’s heavy balls brushed his chin. “Fuck, he’s good,” she said, voice rough with pleasure. “Sucking like he was made for it.”

Warrick stepped in closer, cock in hand, and angled Wesley’s head slightly. The second thick shaft pressed against the corner of his stuffed mouth. “Your turn to share,” she told Fiona with a dark smile. “We’re going to use him together.”

They found a rhythm almost immediately. Fiona drew back until only the head rested on Wesley’s tongue, then Warrick slid in from the opposite angle, filling the vacated space with her longer, thicker cock. Wesley gagged again, louder this time, spit stringing from his lower lip to the veined shaft as Warrick bottomed out against his throat. Delphine’s fingers moved faster, two of them now slipping inside herself while her thumb rubbed tight circles.

“Look at that,” she whispered, filthy and adoring. “My husband choking on two transsexual cocks right in front of me. Suck those balls when she pulls out, baby. I want to hear you slurp.”

Wesley obeyed the moment Fiona withdrew. He ducked lower, mouth open, and took one of her full, heavy balls between his lips, tonguing the soft skin, sucking gently while Warrick fucked shallow strokes into his throat. The dual sensation made Fiona curse under her breath and rock her hips. Spit ran freely down Wesley’s chin and throat, soaking the open collar of his shirt. His jaw already ached in the best way; every wet gluck and gag sent another pulse of heat straight to his trapped cock.

“Alternate,” Delphine ordered, voice breaking on a moan. “One deep, then the other. Make him take turns drowning on you. And you—Wesley—keep those eyes open. I want to watch your face while they ruin that pretty mouth.”

They did exactly as she said. Fiona drove deep, holding Wesley’s head so her cock lodged thick and pulsing against the back of his throat while he gagged and drooled. Then she pulled free with a wet pop and Warrick replaced her immediately, fucking his face in short, firm strokes that made his nose bump her trimmed base each time. Saliva coated both shafts now, shiny and dripping. Wesley’s hands stayed obediently on his own thighs, fingers digging into the fabric of his trousers; he wanted to touch himself desperately but waited for permission that hadn’t come.

“Lick the head,” Delphine panted, watching every detail. “When she pulls out, swirl your tongue around it like you’re tasting the best thing you’ve ever had. Then suck those balls again. God, look how hard they both are for you.”

Wesley’s tongue flicked and swirled over the fat, leaking head of Warrick’s cock the instant it left his throat. He licked down the shaft, chased the vein with the flat of his tongue, then opened wide and took both of Warrick’s heavy balls into his mouth one after the other, sucking gently while Fiona fed her cock back between his lips. The room filled with the wet, rhythmic sounds of face-fucking—gags, slurps, the soft slap of balls against chin—and Delphine’s rising moans as she fingered herself harder, three fingers now, knuckles shiny.

“You’re doing so well,” she told him, voice shaking with lust. “My perfect husband on his knees, throat open, balls in his mouth, taking every inch I told him to. Spit on them. Make it sloppy. I want to see strings of it hanging off those cocks when they pull out.”

He did. When both women drew back for a breath he gathered saliva and let it pour over the twin heads, then immediately took Fiona deep again, throat convulsing around her thickness while Warrick stroked herself against his cheek, waiting for the next turn. Tears streaked Wesley’s face from the repeated gagging, but his eyes stayed locked on Delphine’s, glassy and hungry, showing her exactly how much he loved being used this way for her.

Fiona’s breathing grew ragged. “I’m close,” she warned, hips stuttering. “His throat is too fucking good.”

“Me too,” Warrick growled, fucking deeper on her next turn, holding Wesley’s head still so she could grind against his face. “Where do you want it, Delphine?”

Delphine’s free hand gripped the chair so hard her knuckles whitened. Her fingers plunging wetly, clit shiny and swollen under her thumb. “On his face,” she ordered, nearly coming herself at the words. “Both of you. Cover my husband’s face and tongue. Let him taste it. Then make him swallow every drop while I watch.”

They pulled free almost together. Wesley stayed on his knees, mouth open, tongue out, face tilted up exactly the way Delphine had taught him in their private fantasies. Fiona stroked hard and fast, thick cock dark and glistening with his spit. The first heavy rope of cum lashed across Wesley’s cheek and the bridge of his nose. The second hit his open tongue and lower lip. Warrick followed a heartbeat later, her longer cock pulsing as thick white jets striped the other side of his face, painting his forehead, landing hot across his extended tongue, dripping down onto his chin and the open collar of his shirt.

Wesley kept his tongue out, collecting every spurt he could, eyes never leaving Delphine’s. She came hard at the sight—back arching, thighs shaking, a broken cry leaving her throat as she watched the two hung transsexual women empty themselves over her husband’s eager face. Cum mixed with spit ran in slow trails down Wesley’s chin. He waited, panting, until both women had finished milking the last drops onto his tongue.

“Swallow,” Delphine commanded, still trembling, fingers still slowly circling her oversensitive clit. “Show me. Swallow it all.”

He closed his mouth, throat working visibly as he swallowed the heavy combined load. Then he opened again, tongue clean, a few remaining streaks still cooling on his cheeks and forehead. Fiona laughed softly, delighted and spent, and wiped the head of her cock across his lips one last time. Warrick did the same, smearing the last pearly drop for him to lick.

Delphine leaned forward, still breathless, and reached out to drag two fingers through the mess on Wesley’s cheek. She pushed those fingers between his lips so he could clean them too. “Beautiful,” she whispered. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this. Covered in their cum, still hard in your pants, waiting for whatever I want next.”

Wesley’s cock throbbed untouched, soaked through the front of his trousers. He stayed on his knees between the two women, face painted, chest heaving, eyes fixed on his wife with pure devotion and raw need. Fiona and Warrick were already half-hard again, cocks still wet and heavy as they looked down at him and then over at Delphine, waiting for her next direction. The night was far from finished; the air still crackled with everything left to do.

Wesley remained on his knees in the center of the living room, chest rising and falling hard, the cooling streaks of Fiona and Warrick’s cum tightening on his cheeks and forehead as he stared up at Delphine. His cock throbbed untouched inside the soaked front of his trousers, a heavy, aching pulse that matched the hammer of his heart. Fiona’s fingers stroked lazily through his hair while Warrick wiped the last pearly drop from her shaft across his lower lip. Both women were already thickening again, the heavy lengths lifting under their own weight, flushed and glistening with the spit and seed he had just swallowed.

Delphine slid from the armchair to her knees in front of him, close enough that the heat of her bare thighs brushed his. She cupped his cum-streaked face in both hands, thumbs smearing the thick white trails as she looked into his glassy eyes. “You’re still hard,” she whispered, voice thick with lingering climax. “So fucking hard after choking on them. Stand up just enough to get these off.” Her fingers worked his belt open, tugged the zipper down, and freed his rigid cock. It sprang out, flushed dark, the head shiny with precum that had soaked through the fabric. She wrapped her fist around him once, slow and tight, milking a fresh bead to the tip while he shuddered.

“Don’t come yet,” she ordered softly. “Not until I say. Get back down and finish what you started. They’re hard for you again. Suck them clean and get them ready to use that pretty throat one more time.”

Wesley dropped obediently, trousers shoved to his thighs, cock bobbing heavy between his legs. Fiona stepped in first, guiding the renewed thickness of her cock to his lips. He opened wide and took her to the root in one smooth slide, nose pressed to the soft skin above her base, throat convulsing around the fat head. The wet gluck of it filled the room. Warrick moved to his other side, her longer shaft resting against his cheek while she watched him work. Delphine stayed close, one hand sliding between her own thighs again, two fingers pumping slowly into her dripping cunt as she catalogued every detail—the way her husband’s lips stretched, the tears that gathered at the corners of his eyes when Fiona held him deep, the helpless twitch of his own cock each time he gagged.

“Share,” Delphine directed, breathless. “I want both of them coating your tongue again. Make it filthy.”

Fiona pulled free with a wet pop. Spit hung in a long string from Wesley’s lower lip to her shiny head. Warrick took her place immediately, sliding deep in one firm thrust until his throat bulged faintly around her girth. He moaned around the intrusion, the sound vibrating up her shaft. His hands stayed obediently on his own thighs even as his neglected cock leaked steadily onto the rug. Interior heat rolled through him—submission, gratitude, the raw thrill of being displayed and used exactly as his wife had dreamed. Every wet stroke, every command from Delphine, every approving groan from the two women only locked him deeper into the role he had craved for months.

They fell into a brutal, beautiful rhythm. Fiona fucked his mouth in long strokes while Warrick stroked herself against his cheek and ear; then they switched without missing a beat, filling him again and again until saliva poured down his chin and soaked the open collar of his shirt. Delphine’s free hand reached out to cup his balls, rolling them gently, keeping him right on the razor edge. “Look how well you take them,” she praised, voice breaking on a moan as her fingers curled inside herself. “My husband, thirty-four years old and on his knees sucking two hung transsexual cocks like he was born for it. You’re dripping for them. You’re dripping for me.”

Fiona’s hips stuttered. “Fuck, I’m close again. His throat is perfect.”

“Same,” Warrick growled, pulling free so the heavy head slapped wetly against Wesley’s tongue. “Where this time, Delphine?”

Delphine’s eyes shone. She rose onto her knees, dress still rucked around her waist, and guided both thick, spit-slicked cocks together so their heads rested side by side on Wesley’s open tongue. “Paint him again. Cover my husband’s face while I watch. Then I want him to stay just like that—open, glazed, waiting—while you both recover enough for one last round in his throat.”

Fiona stroked hard and fast. The first thick rope of cum lashed across Wesley’s tongue and upper lip. The second striped his cheek. Warrick followed a heartbeat later, longer pulses of hot white seed striping the other side of his face, landing heavy across the bridge of his nose, dripping down onto his open mouth. Wesley held perfectly still, tongue out, collecting every spurt he could, eyes locked on Delphine’s as she came again at the sight—thighs shaking, a broken cry tearing from her throat while her fingers worked frantically over her clit.

When the last drops had been milked onto his face, Delphine leaned in and gathered the fresh mess with two fingers, feeding it between his lips. “Swallow. Good boy. Now open again.”

He obeyed. Both women were still half-hard, cocks heavy and shining. Delphine nodded once. “One more each. Deep as he can take. I want to hear him choke.”

Fiona slid home first, burying herself to the balls while Wesley’s throat convulsed wetly around her. She held him there, grinding gently, letting him feel every pulse until his eyes watered freely. Then she pulled free and Warrick replaced her, fucking his face in short, possessive strokes that made spit fly. Delphine reached down and finally wrapped her fist around her husband’s neglected cock, stroking him in time with Warrick’s thrusts. “Come when she does,” she whispered against his ear. “Come while you’re choking on her. Show me how much you love this.”

Warrick’s rhythm broke. She buried herself deep and unloaded straight down his throat with a low groan, thick pulses that he swallowed greedily even as his own orgasm ripped through him. His cock jerked hard in Delphine’s fist, striping the rug and her wrist with hot ropes while he gagged and moaned around the shaft still lodged in his throat. Fiona stroked herself through a softer second climax against his cheek, adding one final smear of cum to the mess already glazing his skin.

They eased back slowly. Wesley stayed on his knees, panting, face thoroughly painted, cock still twitching with aftershocks, trousers tangled at his thighs. Fiona and Warrick sank onto the couch, spent and smiling, bodies languid. Delphine rose, pulled her husband up by the open collar of his shirt, and dragged him into a deep, possessive kiss. Her tongue swept through his mouth, tasting the mingled loads of the two women still coating his tongue and lips. She kissed him like she owned every drop, every gasp, every filthy second of what he had just done for her. Cum smeared from his cheeks onto hers; she only kissed harder, swallowing the salt and musk of Fiona and Warrick while her hands cupped his face and kept him locked against her.

When she finally broke the kiss she kept her forehead pressed to his, lips brushing his as she spoke. Her voice dropped to a low, satisfied purr that carried clear across the quiet room. “This is only the beginning of our new shared obsession, Wesley. Next week. Same time. Only this time I want them to fuck you while I watch—one in your mouth, one in your ass—and then I’m going to sit on your face and make you taste all of it while you come for me again. Are you ready to plan exactly how deep you want them to take you?”