Hollie

Hollie by Stephanie Silver (sjtw69@yahoo.com)

Chapter Four -- Hollie Starts Dating

"I'm going out with Barry tonight after work."

"What? Who's Barry?"

"He's that guy I was telling you about? The cute one at the gym?"

She had told me about Barry - Barry Larson. Six feet, two inches tall, 237 pounds, and almost all of it muscle. Except for his azure-blue eyes. "Those eyes," Hollie had gushed that morning after her workout, "They totally make me feel like I'm going to melt."

I guess I just hadn't wanted to think much about it. Barry wasn't the first guy she'd talked that way about. He was just the first guy she'd actually gone so far as to start dating. The first one I knew about, at least. Not that I had any reason to believe there'd been others. Hollie didn't seem shy about telling me about this one; I didn't have a reason to think she would have kept any previous ones hidden from me. But you never know.

"Oh, him," I mumbled.

"You can't be mad," she said. "I told you I'd only marry you on one condition."

"I know."

Despite my agreement, she explained the arrangement once more. "I said I'd marry you on the condition that I got to keep dating other guys. So tonight I feel like going on a date with Barry."

I knew there was nothing I could say to contradict her. "Where are you going?" I asked, feigning an interest I didn't feel.

Hollie laughed. "You're free to date other girls. If you want."

The way she said it - purposely pausing between "girls" and "if" to emphasize the period that turned her statement into two distinct sentences - only underscored the fact we both knew: I was too shy to date other girls. I was fortunate, we both knew, to have her.

"I don't want to date anyone else," I muttered.

Hollie pretended not to hear. Maybe she didn't hear. Maybe it didn't matter. "We're going to have an early dinner and then go to the bodybuilding competition."

Hollie knew I had no interest in bodybuilding. My best efforts at the gym had resulted in nothing more than a slight increase in muscle tone. Nothing more. None of the bulk that most members, at least the male members, enjoyed. "Maybe you're just not cut out to be muscle-y," Hollie had consoled. Her words might have helped more if she hadn't been practically salivating over the muscle-bound Adonis doing bicep curls a few feet away.

"Where are you going to eat at?" I asked.

"His house," she said. "Salads and protein shakes. He won't eat anything from a restaurant."

I nodded as if agreeing. "What time will you be home?"

She gave me a soft kiss as she prepared to get out of the car. "The show doesn't start till nine, so give us till after midnight at least. Don't wait up, okay?"

"Okay."

As I left the parking lot, slipping a little on the ice, I thought about how pathetic I was. I was even wearing panties under my pants, for hell's sake. "What a wimp!" I muttered as I tapped the brakes to avoid the brown pick-up truck pulling out in front of me. "Why don't you just tell her no, she can't go?"

There didn't seem to be a reason to answer.

I didn't actually wait up for her; I just started watching one of those late-night movies and before I knew it she was home. No, not home. At the front door, laughing and jingling her keys. She must be having a hard time getting the door unlocked, I thought, and I got up to go open it.

Just before I got there the laughing stopped, replaced by silence and the gentle thump of someone's body leaning against the door. Okay, it could have been the gentle thump of something else, anything. But it wasn't, and I somehow knew it.

I waited till I heard voices again and then stopped, not sure if I wanted to see what was going on just outside my apartment. I heard Hollie laugh again, and then more silence. It was the silence more than anything that bothered me. Unable to stop myself, I reached for the lock, turned it, and opened the door.

Hollie was there, smiling at me, Barry's arm around her waist supporting her. "You didn't have to wait up," she said with a cheery smile.

Barry was grinning too. Like the cat that ate the canary, I thought glumly. I tried to give him an icy stare, but there's just something about a guy who's six-two and 237 pounds, in the dark, with his arm around your wife that's a little intimidating. I looked away and back to Hollie.

"Good night, Barry," she said in a soft voice, and gave his hand one last squeeze as he pulled away. "I had a nice time."

Hollie went straight to the bedroom, leaving me to close the door and turn off the TV. I followed her to the bedroom, and watched as she undressed. At least that was one pleasure I could still enjoy.

"How was it?" I asked finally, wanting to fill the silence.

She gave me a happy smile. "We had a fun time," she answered.

"What'd you do?" I wasn't sure I wanted to know, but couldn't seem to help myself from asking.

"Just what I told you, Cammie. We ate dinner at his house, and then went to the bodybuilding competition. I love seeing those muscular guys up close like that."

Completely naked, she walked past me to the bathroom to wash her face. "Who won?" I asked with no real interest.

"Barry's friend, Paul did. Remember him?"

I thought for a moment. Even if I had met him at some point, I would have wanted to forget. "No."

"He's that guy that likes to deadlift. He's really gotten ripped since last year. Last year he wouldn't have had a chance." She paused as she washed the make-up from her face. "And this year he wins the whole thing."

"That's great," I said without the corresponding enthusiasm.

Hollie began patting her face dry with a towel and looked at me. "You don't sound very excited about it."

I shrugged. Okay, so I wasn't.

She kept looking at me as she finished in the bathroom. "You said it was okay if I started dating."

"I know."

She pulled open a drawer and took out a purple satin nightgown."Are you mad because Barry was kissing me?"

I shrugged again. Yes, but I knew I couldn't say that.

She pulled on some matching panties and then walked over to where I was with a sexy grin on her face. Without stopping, she pressed up against me and kissed me hard. Her mouth opened and her tongue darted out. I opened my mouth to accept it, feeling myself getting aroused. I slipped my arms around her, feeling her soft, sexy body. I let my hands slide to her rear, cupping her cheeks and feeling her gentle curves as I slowly pulled the nightgown higher.

Pulling back slightly, but not far enough to stop me from doing what I was doing, she looked into my eyes and asked, "Does it excite you to kiss me, knowing another guy's tongue was in my mouth?"

I couldn't lie. "Yes."

Hollie pulled me onto the bed on top of her where we kissed some more. With a mood somewhere between measured control and frantic desire, she helped me get my boy clothes off. Her clothes were easier, since we only needed to take off her panties before I climbed on top of her again and slid my dick inside her.

Hollie was as passionate as ever. She kept her eyes closed the whole time though, and something told me that even though it was me on top of her, it was Barry she saw in her mind.

Hollie only went out with Barry four more times after that. Their dates were all basically the same: dinner followed by some activity. One time it was a movie, another time it was a concert, the other two times were more bodybuilder shows.

After each date she would come home horny. She'd let me watch her undress while she told me about her date, and then we would fall onto the bed for some incredible sex. A couple of times she moaned Barry's name as I was fucking her, but I tried not to let it bother me.

She started telling me more about her dates with Barry. Not the things like where they went and what they did, but the intimate details: how often he kissed her and where and how. Telling me seemed to arouse her even more, so I let her continue. Barry might be kissing her, but I was still the one screwing her at the end of the night.

For now.

One Sunday morning she woke up early and began getting ready. "Where are you going?" I asked as she started putting on tan shorts, one of her nicer t-shirts and some make-up and perfume. It was obvious she wasn't planning to stay home and clean house.

That was my job, I guess.

"I'm going to an amusement park with Paul," she said, applying the finishing touches on her eye shadow.

I frowned. "I thought you were going to stay home today and help me with the house cleaning."

She smiled softly and gave me a kiss. "You know how I've been wanting to go out with Paul ever since he won that contest last spring. He finally asked me. You can't expect me to say no."

"What happened to Barry?" I asked. My head was spinning.

"I was just dating Barry to get to Paul," she said.

I frowned again. "So you and Barry are through?"

She grinned. "For now."

"Does he know that?" I imagined Barry suddenly being as clueless as me.

"He'll figure it out. Eventually."

"When you stop going out with him?" I asked.

Her smile widened. "Exactly. Now you're thinking like a girl."

She worked on her make-up for a moment, then said, "Truth or Dare?"

"Dare," I said, not really interested in playing her game just then, but less interested in revealing personal secrets at the moment.

"I dare you to spend the whole day in girl clothes, and do all the vacuuming and house-cleaning. When I get home, I want to find the house spotless. And then when I get home you can tell me how much fun it was to spend the day being a housewife."

She made it sound fun. Really. Or maybe it just sounded fun because.... Okay, it was fun. I spent the whole day wearing a bra and panties with a short skirt and stockings. I put on one of Hollie's necklaces and a bracelet and spent the whole day pretending I was a girl.

"How was it?" asked Hollie when I met her at the door wearing one of her nightgowns and some of her favorite perfume.

"It was.... nice," I admitted. I told her what I wore and what I did and how it felt to vacuum the house wearing a skirt. It had felt oddly liberating, actually.

"Do you want to do it all the time?" she asked.

I hesitated. "I'd like to do it some more," I admitted.

"Would you let one of my dates see you wearing a skirt?" she asked with a mischievous grin.

I shook my head. "No way."

But the next Saturday found me answering Hollie's knock on the door wearing a short black leather skirt, a white blouse, black panty hose, a white lace-trimmed bra, and black lace-trimmed panties. "Hello Paul," I said, forcing a soft smile.

Hollie turned around and gave Paul a long, sexy kiss while I waited, watching. Then turning back to me she wished him a good night and came inside.

"You look cute," she said. "Thanks for letting Paul see you like this."

"Thank you," I said quietly, still not sure how she had talked me into it.

"How did it feel," she asked, "having a guy see you dressed like a girl?"

I shrugged. "It was okay."

The truth is, it had felt, again, oddly liberating. Meeting Barry that night weeks earlier had been intimidating. I'd met Paul a couple of times at the gym after he'd started dating Hollie, and felt strangely inadequate during those meetings. I mean, how are you supposed to feel when you're looking at someone who you know is dating your wife and who knows that you know and is doing it anyway? I felt like I was supposed to protest, but lacked the ability to do so. I felt like a wimp.

But, somehow, standing there in that skirt made it all different. I was no longer Hollie's wimp husband; I was her girlfriend.

Hollie studied me carefully. I think in that moment she suspected the change I just described. We still had sex, but it was less passionate than usual. For both of us. More tender. I certainly didn't think this at the time, but in hindsight I would describe it as more like lesbian sex than heterosexual sex. The competitiveness that normally flavored our lovemaking was gone, replaced by a certain softness and willingness to treat each other as equals.

I say that with the advantage of being able to look back and compare that night to all the nights before and all the nights to follow, and I see it as the turning point in our relationship. It's where it quit being some sort of competition to see just how much humiliation I could take, and turned into more of a partnership. I guess you could say it was the beginning of the end of our marriage, but it was also the start of something much better for both of us.

I guess the next big step came about three weeks later. Hollie came home from a date with Paul hornier than usual. I was starting to learn that wasn't a good sign. Of course I met them at the door wearing a skirt, blouse, bra and panties, and then waited and watched as they kissed one last time before saying good night.

I could tell Hollie had her tongue in Paul's mouth, and he had his tongue in hers. Hollie also had her arms around Paul's neck, pressing her boobs against him while his hands caressed her ass.

I didn't exactly mind. Our relationship had changed since that first time letting Paul see me dressed as a girl. I knew she was going to start having sex with guys, so I felt less like her husband and more like her girlfriend. But I didn't exactly like being expected to stand there and watch, either.

When the door closed behind her, Hollie practically threw me on the couch as we began French-kissing and tearing each other's clothes off.

"Does it excite you to French kiss me, knowing I just had Paul's dick in my mouth?" asked Hollie breathlessly as I unsnapped her bra.

"Yes." My honest answer surprised me. I kissed her harder, pushing my tongue deeper, excited by what she had just told me. Could I still taste his presence there, I wondered. Somehow I sensed I could. Did that make me gay for being so turned on by the idea of kissing a guy's dick by proxy like that? Was that what was turning me on so much? Or was it something else?

When Hollie was mostly naked, and I was half-so I thought she was just about to go down on me. But she halted. Grasping my member in her hand and stroking it, she said, "I can't suck you any more, Cammie."

"Why not?"

"It wouldn't be right. It wouldn't be fair to Paul."

What about being fair to me, I wondered. I was her husband. Didn't that mean something?

"What do you mean?" I asked stupidly.

"I had his dick in my mouth," she exclaimed. "I can't do that to you anymore."

I felt confused. Lost. "When... when did you suck him?" I asked, knowing it wasn't what I wanted to know as soon as the words had left my mouth. What I really wanted to know is if she was sure there hadn't been some kind of mix-up. Maybe she hadn't actually sucked his dick earlier, and was therefore still eligible to suck mine. I know it doesn't make a lot of sense, but I was desperate.

Hollie kept stroking my cock as she answered the question I'd actually asked, ignoring the questions I'd only implied. I could tell by the faraway look in her eyes that she was reliving the moment.

"It was in his car, while we were waiting for traffic to clear out of the parking lot. He has that big, tall truck with the tinted windows, and there's a seat in the back. So we climbed back there, and he took my hand and put it where I could feel his bulge, and I knew that's what he wanted."

I felt sick. My wife was about to tell me the details of sucking off another guy, and I knew I was going to listen.

"So I unzipped his fly, and pulled his dick out where I could see it. And god he's so huge, Cammie. He's like two of yours. And at first I was just going to touch it and hold it, but suddenly I was leaning down and putting it in my mouth."

"Did he cum?" I asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

Hollie leaned forward and kissed me softly. "No. But I think next time he will."

"Are you going to let him cum in your mouth?" I asked, unable to hold back my questions.

Hollie smiled.

"Can I still fuck you?" I asked, my voice almost pleading.

Hollie took a moment to consider my request and then said, "As long as Paul hasn't done it to me, I'll let you keep doing it. Okay?"

Less than a week later I was kissing my very horny wife again, with most of our clothes gone, when she asked the question I almost knew was coming, "Does it excite you to French kiss me, knowing I had Paul's cum in my mouth?"

I swirled my tongue around her mouth, wondering if I could actually taste Paul's cum still there. Did it bother me that I thought I could? Not very much. Not enough to make me pull away in disgust. Not enough to make me want to stop. "Yes," I said after a while, but with less enthusiasm than I'd showed a week earlier when she first told me about sucking Paul's dick.

"He cums a lot more than you do," she said.

I wasn't surprised. Everything Paul did seemed to be better than I did. I'd pretty much given up feeling inadequate about it. It was obvious Paul was more manly than me in just about every way that mattered. It was obvious most men were more manly than me in just about every way that mattered. I'd just about given up trying to compete. If I couldn't be a man, I thought, then maybe I'd make a decent woman. I hadn't exactly committed to making that change, but I had to admit it was becoming more attractive every day.

"Do I still get to screw you?" I asked, surprising myself with the gentle softness in my voice. I realized I had no intentions of competing with Paul, or any other man, for Hollie's affection. I only wanted to please her and make her happy. If that meant using the small dick I still had, then that's what I would do. If that meant doing nothing more than holding her and caressing her and kissing her lips, I would do that, too.

I kind of knew the night it finally happened. Something was just different.

For one thing, I guess, Hollie wasn't as horny as she usually was after a date with Paul. She was content for us to just kiss each other softly as we held and caressed one another while we slowly undressed each other.

I'd kind of noticed it at the door, when I had watched them kiss good night. Paul seemed embarrassed, and refused to look at me. Then, as they parted, there was just this look of something unsaid between them.

"Did you and Paul have sex?" I asked finally as the lovemaking settled into an intimate nude embrace.

Hollie kissed me softly before answering, "Yes."

"How was it?" I asked, genuinely interested in hearing as many details as Hollie felt like sharing.

Her eyes twinkled as she looked up at me. I know a lot of people will read this story and think that I'm nothing but a wimp for letting Hollie treat me like that, or that Hollie was some kind of heartless bitch for taking advantage of me, but in that moment, that twinkle told me everything I needed to know. Hollie, the only woman I'd ever loved, was happy.

"Will you eat my pussy?" she asked, knowing I could no longer fuck her.

"I'd be happy to," I said, knowing I'd probably be tasting Paul's cum. I think at that point I'd kind of decided that I made a better girl than a guy, and eating another man's cum out of my wife's pussy just seemed like a good place to get started. "But you have to tell me how it was."

I tasted her slowly, parting her pussy lips and pushing my tongue inside while she told me the story.

"I knew it was going to happen tonight," she said between moans and groans of pleasure.

"How'd you know?" I asked from between her soft, smooth thighs.

"Because of where we were going, and what we were doing. It was the perfect date for ending up having sex later."

I lapped softly at her folds, kissing her gently as I considered the step I was about to take. What would it taste like? Would I be revolted? What if I tasted it and suddenly decided I didn't want to do this anymore? Would I stand up for myself as a husband, and demand her loyalty?

For a brief moment I thought of sticking my dick in her instead of my tongue. It would be my way of reclaiming what rightfully belonged to me. It would be kind of like marking my territory, as if I was trying to mask the presence of another man's cum by spreading mine in its place. It would be a very manly thing to do. It's what another man would do. It's what Paul would do. It's what Hollie wanted me to do. Or someone. If I didn't do it, I knew she'd find someone else who could. Hell, she'd already found someone else who could. And I was about to give my seal of approval by licking that man's cum out of her pussy.

Like I say, I considered for a moment not doing it. But not seriously. Because I also knew there was more to being a man than just having a dick and sticking it inside a woman's vagina. What else there was to it, I'm not sure I could tell you, even now. And maybe that was, and still is, my problem. If I knew, I might have done that instead. I might have acted differently. I might have said no. But I didn't say no. I didn't say no because somehow I sensed that even if I did, I'd never be able to live up to any claim of manhood I might be making. I might fool her for a while, perhaps even for an entire night. But eventually, that manly veneer would wear off, and she'd see me as I was.

Thoughts of resisting left me, and I placed my lips right on her opening.

Hollie gasped the way she always does when she knows my tongue is about to enter her. "God, I love how you eat a pussy," she said. "I swear you eat pussy just like a girl."

I wondered if her comment came from personal experience, or if she just said it to further shame me. I suspected the latter. I didn't exactly care. I'd more or less resigned myself to being more feminine than masculine. In a way, I considered it a compliment. It made me think, if I had a pussy and a vagina and a clitoris, how I might want to have them licked by my lover.

"Keep telling me about your date," I said as I prepared to slide my tongue inside her.

Hollie laughed, "Actually it wouldn't have mattered where we went or what we did. But don't ever tell Paul that. Or any guy. I knew before he even came to pick me up that we were going to have sex."

My tongue was too busy for me to answer, although I definitely noticed the way Hollie talked, treating me as if I was another girl, one who might need to know how to handle a guy on a date. I wondered if she knew something.

"We went dancing at Frank's Place, down on Main Street. They play soft jazz, and turn the lights down low and it's so romantic. It seems like I automatically fall in love with whoever I'm with when I go there."

I knew of Frank's Place, even though I'd never been there. Something in Hollie's voice gave me the impression she'd been there more than once. Maybe even since marrying me. The image came to mind of my wife dancing with other men and flirting with them the way she used to flirt with me. Surprisingly, I found myself incredibly turned on by that image. I slid my tongue deeper inside her, probing deeply to find Paul's cum.

"So Paul and I were dancing really close all night long. And I let him put his hands on my butt."

I didn't bother to point out that I'd already seen his hands on that part of her body right outside our front door.

"I made sure to press myself against him while we were dancing, because I wanted him to get the message that I wanted to have sex with him. I kept rubbing my boobs on him and stuff, and I could even feel his bulge a few times when we were dancing."

"And then, when I thought he was ready, I asked him to take me home. And I made sure to say it in a way that he'd know what I meant. About halfway home I told him to take me to his house instead. And then I put my hand in his lap and started rubbing his bulge. By the time we got to his place, he was as hard as a guy can get, and we just started kissing and making out. We didn't even bother to close the door until he had his shirt off and mine was unbuttoned."

I was turned on by her story. A lot. And plus, I was pretty sure I'd tasted Paul's cum - the end result of the story she was telling me. At first I wasn't sure. It tasted a bit different than her normal juices, and was more thick and stringy. It wasn't till I had it in my mouth and was swallowing it that I decided what it was.

Hollie continued, "We just kept tearing each other's clothes off, and suddenly I realized he was going to fuck me right there on the living room couch. Which was okay, because I've been in his bedroom and knew it was probably a mess anyway. So I let him take all my clothes off, and throw them wherever he wanted. And then I sucked his dick a little, and then told him I wanted him to fuck me. And he said, 'Are you sure?" and I told him I was, and... Then he started putting his dick inside me."

By that point I finished licking Hollie's pussy clean, and I moved up to kiss her, wanting to share Paul's cum with her.

Between kisses, Hollie finished her story. "His dick is like twice as big as yours, Cammie. You can't imagine how good it feels to be fucked by something that big."

I moaned appreciatively and said, "I can tell you really liked it."

She kissed me harder - her way of telling me that yes, she had really liked it. "Did you like tasting his cum? And licking it out of my pussy?"

"Yes," I said, feeling incredibly turned on at that moment.

"Do you want to do it again?"

"Yes," I said, and stuck my tongue deep inside her mouth to let her know I meant it.

We kissed like that for several minutes before finally slowing down and relaxing.

"That's why I can't let you fuck me anymore, Cammie," she said.

"I know." I wasn't mad. I wasn't even all that sad. I just understood.

Hollie voiced my unspoken thoughts. I imagine that saying them out loud helped make them clearer in her own mind. "It's just so different being fucked by someone like that. By something that big. I love you, but... You're getting to be more and more like a girlfriend to me. You know?"

I smiled and kissed her softly. "I know."

"We'll probably always make out and stuff, but I can't see us having sex anymore. I'll always feel like I want something else. Like I want to be with someone else. You know?"

I curled up beside her, gently fondling her breast. "I think so," I said.

"Does that hurt your feelings?"

I took a moment before answering. Yes, it did hurt my feelings somewhat. It meant I wasn't very much of a man. On the other hand, I'd already accepted that fact about me, so it wasn't a big loss. And, in the back of my mind, I saw my questionable manliness being replaced by something that I sensed might be even more attractive to me - a budding feminine side that more and more I was learning to enjoy.

I hadn't told her, but when she went on her dates, I had started dressing in her things long before I expected her home, just so I could enjoy the experience a little longer. I hadn't told her that telling me I licked pussy like a girl was actually more of a compliment than an insult.

I sensed those things happening to me, even though the feelings were still not fully developed. Losing my manliness to them... While part of me felt sad for that fact, the rest of me was ready for what was sure to take its place.

"No, I think I'm okay with it," I whispered.