PenOff, Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The next day, Sunday, started in a normal manner for us. We slept late, then had a leisurely breakfast, which was really a brunch. Last night's topic was still foremost in my thoughts, but Kathy made no further reference to it, and I simply didn't know how to bring it up. While she went to the grocery store to replenish the larder, I did the usual Sunday yard work.

All the time I was working outside, my thoughts were on the computer file I'd been so obsessed with for the past week. I remember that my thoughts flitted from the photographs, to the videos, and then to the stories. Most of all, though, I played over and over the story that my wife had written. I know that the guillotine was re-designed several times as I mowed and trimmed, with each new model being more fearsome looking and efficient than the last.

We had a usual late dinner, and then watched some meaningless movie on TV. All-in-all it was a typical Sunday, and I assumed that was how it would end. That changed when Kathy walked into the bathroom as I was toweling myself off after showering. My cock was hard then, as it had seemed to be most of the time when I was home, ever since that fateful night when I had opened the wrong folder on the computer.

She immediately looked at my crotch and smiled. She asked, "Still feeling horny? You've been acting just like a teenager ever since I got back. Maybe I ought to go away more often." I was somewhat embarrassed by her seeing me like that, but soon lost that emotion when she took the towel from me and used it to dry my back.

I was facing the large mirror over the vanity cabinet as she dried me, and could see my erection swaying as she moved the towel over my body. When she finished, she dropped the towel to the floor and stood behind me, also looking in the mirror. She moved up close and reached around my body, placing her hand on my cock. She said, "That's a view Hank will never have any more. Let's see what you'd look like if that happened to you."

I simply couldn't believe my ears. Never before had my wife spoken in such a frank manner about anything sexually related. The fact that she was doing so now was just as erotic as anything I'd looked at or read. Somehow "live action" is always better that fiction, I guess.

She then told me to spread my legs a slight amount, and after I'd done so she tucked my cock and balls between them. "Now squeeze your legs together to hold them there", she said. I did as instructed, and we both spent several seconds in silence looking at my image.

Finally she said in a husky whisper, "You're very handsome like that. I always did think that a man's penis was an ugly thing. It's too bad that Mother Nature couldn't come up with a better plan." I was speechless, and didn't trust my throat to form any sort of intelligible reply. She then moved her hands to my nipples, and began to gently massage them, further arousing me.

She whispered in my ear, "That's not how Hank would look is it? Let's try something else."

She then told me to move away from the cabinet a small amount, after which she knelt in front of me. After instructing me to relax my legs slightly, she reached between them and worked at pulling my sac out, while keeping my penis imprisoned there. At last satisfied with her efforts, she said, "Now squeeze your legs together again, and let's see how you look."

With her again standing close behind me, we both stared at the mirror. The sight was transfixing, and neither of us spoke for a long time. Finally she said, "Of course, your balls won't be over to the side like that, will they? They'll hang straight down. It's close enough, though. Right?"

There is no way to explain the thrill I had when she said "your balls", and "will they". I don't know if it was a slip of her tongue to state it like that, but those words were many, many times more exciting than if she'd said "Hank's balls", and "wouldn't they." There was a world of difference in those two instances, and that difference was causing me to feel an arousal as great as any I'd had before.

At last she asked, "Shall we go to bed now, or should I take a bath first?" By that time, my brain was entirely below my waist, but I finally was able to say, "Let's go to bed now." I knew what was implied by her question, since always before she was very careful to bathe before we had sexual relations. That night, I simply didn't care about her level of hygiene, and couldn't wait another second to begin making love to her.

I quickly undressed her, and turned back the covers on the bed. We both collapsed on the sheet, and begin passionately kissing. When we came up for air, I begin to kiss, lick, and suckle her breasts. She had never been at all vocal during our sessions, but at that time she began to whisper, "Yes. God, that feels so good. Suck harder." As I nursed, my own arousal was almost overwhelming. I tried desperately to keep my penis from contacting the sheet, because I knew that the slightest touch would make it explode.

I heard her whisper, "Go down on me. Hurry! Lick it! Make me cum!" Never in our married life had she said such a thing to me, even though she had always enjoyed oral sex, and usually seemed to have more orgasms that way. Her simple words drove me to new heights of passion, and I almost dove between her widespread legs to pay homage to her pussy.

I don't know that I had ever before orally serviced her when she hadn't recently bathed. Certainly I hadn't done it less than 24 hours since depositing a double load of my cum in her. Any thoughts of reluctance or revulsion never entered my mind then, and somehow the scent of her pussy was the most delicious it had ever been. I began feverishly licking and sucking, seemingly unable to get enough of the wonderful juices there.

A few seconds after I had started servicing her, she whispered huskily, "You're not doing it right. Slow down. Lick softly up and down first. You don't need to stick your tongue as deep as you can get it. It's not a cock, you know." Rather than cooling my ardor, her instructions simply made me more anxious to please her. She had never before told me how to lick her, and the fact she was now doing so was all part of the eroticism of the moment. It simply never occurred to me to wonder how she would know I wasn't doing it "right".

After a short time, my changed efforts began to yield results, and her hips started to buck. At her order to, "Lick harder now! Hurry!", I complied and began to increase the pressure of my tongue against her folds. In no time at all, she said, "Suck it! Hurry! Do it now, God damn you!"

Again, her fervent instructions did nothing to reduce my own lust, but seemed to only increase it. I had felt her clitoris swelling for awhile by that time, and knew just what it was that she wanted me to suck. I moved my lips to encircle the little bud of flesh, and drew it into my mouth, sucking it and flicking my tongue across it.

That was the trigger that started her orgasm, and as she drove her widespread crotch against my face, she cried out, "Make me cum! Do it, damn you! Eat me, you dickless little bastard!" That was the final straw for me, as it was for her, and I pressed my engorged cock against the sheet and began to shoot spurt after spurt of cum.

By the timed I returned to reality, we were both lying there spent. I was still breathing very rapidly, and Kathy was also. As I moved up to lie beside her, she whispered, "Thank you! That was the best one you've ever given me. God, that was good! Did you cum too?" I laughed softly in her ear, then said, "Yes. And good doesn't begin to describe it. It was fantastic."

She then asked softly, "Did you hear what I was saying when I climaxed?"

I murmured that I had, and she continued, "I couldn't help myself. Did it upset you?" I simply told her that, far from upsetting me, it had only made me hotter, and that I hoped she'd do it again. She laughed softly, saying, "If you eat me like that, I won't be able to stop myself from saying that stuff."

As we snuggled and held each other close, she whispered, "You didn't get to fuck me, did you?" I agreed, and then said it didn't matter one bit. We'd both climaxed without intercourse, and that was what was important.

After agreeing with my assessment, she said, "That's how Roxy and Hank have to do it all the time, isn't it? Do you suppose he misses screwing?" I replied that I was sure he missed it, but that there were other things more important than that way of making love. She then raised up on one elbow, and looked at me in the glow from the nightlight in the hall. Finally she asked, "Do you really mean that? Could you adjust to a life of nothing but giving me oral sex? Surely you couldn't live like that, knowing you'd never again be able to screw your wife."

I pulled her back down close to me, and said softly, "I'll get over it."

There was a long silence then. Finally she pushed on my shoulder to indicate she wanted me to lie on my side with my back to her. That was our usual "spoon" position after sex, but this time was different. Instead of draping her arm loosely over my side, she placed her hand on my penis and began caressing it. As she drifted off to sleep, the last thing I heard from her was a husky whisper, "Be careful what you wish for."

It seemed to me that I lay there awake for hours, thinking back over what we had done, and said, so shortly before. It was a fact that we'd both acknowledged our mutual fascination with my penis being removed. I knew that my own mindset was more than fascination; it was becoming closer to obsession. Just thinking of experiencing that had my cock again erect, and I was sure it was due to more than the stimulation Kathy's hand was applying. Over and over I reviewed her intense orgasm, and the things she had said in the heat of her passion. I knew right at that moment that I wanted to be her "dickless little bastard" more than I had ever before wanted anything. With those thoughts roiling my brain, I finally drifted into a restless sleep filled with one dream after another featuring countless ways of getting rid of my "little problem".

__________________

Our new lifestyle settled into a routine, if such a thing is possible. Contrary to what you may be thinking, we didn't have uninhibited, wild sex every night. After all, we were both over forty years old, and the body has limits, even if the brain hasn't. We did have lots more sex than before, though, and our talk about the prime subject became more and more frank.

Kathy never seemed to lose her fascination with seeing me standing there with my penis tucked between my legs, and my balls still visible. She became more expert at arranging the things, and finally was able to get my scrotum to hang almost normally, but with my cock out of sight. The view at those times was very exciting to both of us, and we both began to use the word "when" and not "if" when referring to my penectomy.

My furnishing oral sex to her soon became the norm, and she always referred to the lack of intercourse as "getting me ready for the real thing." I eagerly cooperated in that part, and soon became very accomplished in bringing her to orgasm with my tongue and lips. When the orgasm was especially intense, she'd curse me and call me a "dickless wimp", or half a man, saying she wished a real man would come to her bed. As before, such words inflamed me to new heights, and all I had to do was merely touch my erection to make it spurt. On the very rare occasions when she actually let me penetrate her, afterwards she always ordered me to make her cum with my mouth. Doing what I would have considered sickening a few months before usually made my little dick hard again, and I actually looked forward to her "feeding" me from her pussy.

That state of affairs continued for about four months, during which time nothing new occurred. There was one conversation we had, though, that I would like to relate to you. It happened sometime about two months after Kathy had returned from her vacation. We were sitting on the couch after dinner one weekend, idly watching television and chatting, when she asked, "Did you like what you found in my special computer files, when I was gone?"

At that point in our relationship, I was still slightly uneasy about discussing what was happening in our sex lives. It seems silly to say now, but at that time we hadn't achieved the accepting mood we now have. Anyway, with more than a little embarrassment I replied simply, "Yes."

She then said, "I deliberately put that listing in the Documents folder, hoping that you'd see it and investigate. One of the first things I did when I got home was to see if my folder had been opened. You'll never know how happy I was to see that not only had you opened it, you'd done so repeatedly. Just knowing that you'd been looking at the pictures in there, and reading the stories, was exciting to me."

I said, " 'Exciting' doesn't even begin to describe the feelings I had. I hadn't even guessed that such a thing was being done, and even moreso that you had any interest in it. Seeing those pictures, and then watching the videos, made me hotter than I'd ever dreamed was possible. And then when I read the stories, I just seemed to get harder and harder."

She asked softly, while fixing me with a penetrating stare, "Did you read the last story? The one I wrote about us?" I nodded my head, then said simply, "Yes. It was the best of them all. Somehow just seeing our names written there, and then reading about what you fantasized doing to me, made the story much more intense."

She replied, "I'm glad you liked it. I wanted you to read it, and I hoped and prayed that when you did, it'd be a turn-on for you. I've wanted to talk about it for so long, but just couldn't find a way."

I said, "Of course, if I hadn't found the stuff on the computer, you still could have got us talking about it by telling me about Roxy and Hank. That would have broken the ice, I think."

She replied, "Yes, that's true, but it was so much better this way. You were already fascinated by the subject by the time I came home. To tell the truth, I didn't have to look in the computer to know what you'd been doing. I could see in your eyes that you were looking at me in a different light when we met at the airport. When you kissed me there, I could feel your intensity. That's never been there before, and I was sure it was due to my folder of pictures and stories."

"When we were sitting on the couch, and I told you about Hank, your cock was so hard that I thought it would burst through your pants. You wouldn't have been like that without the stimulus of the computer files, would you?"

I agreed with her assessment, and said that I was glad she'd left the folder for me to find, and that I had indeed found it. She then asked me what part I liked best, and I told her that the story she had written was far and away the best thing of all. She wanted to know which photo was my favorite, and after a slight hesitation, I described the two showing the man standing behind the guillotine, with his severed cock on the floor in the second. Even though it was obviously altered, the topic still made it my favorite.

She told me to describe the video that was the hottest, and with no reluctance this time I reviewed the clip that showed the man tied to the X-beam, and having his penis cut off with shears.

As I described that sequence, her eyes became misty and she said that particular one was her favorite also, and that she had watched it hundreds of times. With a husky voice, she asked, "While you were watching it, what were you thinking?"

Again I hesitated, but finally replied, "I thought it was a shame that he didn't have a hardon. I remember thinking that if it were me tied there, my cock would be hard."

She chuckled softly, almost to herself, then whispered in my ear, "I had exactly the same thought. I just knew that if I had tied you to that X-beam, your little wee-wee would be rock hard. And I knew that when I started to squeeze the handles together, it'd stay that way until it hit the floor. We think a lot alike, don't we?"

My throat was by then so constricted that I could do nothing more than nod my head in agreement. Seeing that I was not going to add anything further, she stood and pulled me up with her, saying, "Let's go watch it now. I want to see you tied there, with your little dickie bobbing in the air."

By that time my cock was about as hard as it'd ever been, and she gripped it through my pants and led me to the computer room. When we entered the room, she said quietly, "Get undressed." She didn't even look at me to see if I was following her order, but instead walked to the computer and turned it on. By the time it had booted, I was naked and standing beside her seated in the chair.

She quickly opened the folder, and then the Video sub-folder. The video was soon loading, and as we waited, the only sound in the room was of our rapid breathing and the hard drive working. Finally the viewer was ready to start, and she pressed the Play button.

I had watched that particular video dozens of times, but never in the company of another person. There is simply no way to describe how very exciting, how extremely erotic, it was to watch the thing again, but this time in the company of my wife. What made it so exciting was the fact that she earnestly wanted it to be me bound and gagged there, and her placing the shears around my cock.

As the tape began to play, she added her own narration. "You're tied to the X-beam, and you have no way to avoid what I'm going to do to you. I put a gag in your mouth so your screams won't scare the neighbors. See how your worthless little wee-wee can't even get hard? It's no good to anyone, is it? I'm going to use these shears to cut it off you. Does it hurt when I squeeze the handles like this? Can your worthless little thing feel anything at all, or is it completely useless? There, it's done. I cut it off, and it's laying on the floor."

As she had begun talking, I could feel my arousal increasing. Before she was through speaking, the pre-cum was literally boiling from the head of my cock, feeling for all the world as if it were liquid fire. As she uttered the last word, Kathy placed her open hand under my cock and caught some of the drops. She raised her hand to me, and said, "Clean it up."

I eagerly licked up the drops, wishing for more. As if in answer to my wishes, she said, "Let's go to bed. I want to feed you." With that she turned off the computer and stood up. She didn't touch my cock to lead me to the bedroom, obviously knowing that if she did so, I'd spray cum all over.

When we got to the bedroom, she quickly undressed. Pointing to the bed, she said, "On your back. Now!", and I hurriedly complied. Almost before I had settled in place, she mounted my erection and began moving up and down. As could have been predicted, my cock began spurting before she had completed two strokes.

She remained sitting there until my thrusts subsided, and then raised herself off my cock and moved to my eagerly waiting mouth. This time there were no instructions to go slow, or to lick softly. She ordered, "Eat me now! Get your slimy crap out of my pussy! Hurry! I don't want it in me!"

I remember being literally drowned in my own cum as I licked and sucked, trying my best to remove every trace from her pussy. I remember how the jism almost exploded from her opening when she climaxed, and how very large her clitoris was then. But most of all I remember hearing her say, as her orgasm overcame her, "Oh God, I wish I had my shears right now!"

I won't pretend that I had another orgasm right then, without even touching myself. I will say though that my cock never softened the least bit, and when Kathy had fallen asleep a short time later, I shot another load as I quietly jacked off.