Tricked By My Wife

By Ed Ward

Published on Apr 20, 2012

Bisexual

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This story is true and started in the early 1970s. It is a twisted story that involved my wife, my mother-in-law and my father-in-law. I thought I was pulling something over on my wife. I thought everything was initiated by me, but I was wrong, and ended up sucking off my father-in-law. Let me start by saying that I had and still have a major stocking fetish, and my mother-in-law used that to her advantage.

Since I was a little boy, I have been unable to resist a woman's legs and feet in suntan nylons. I am even more excited by the sight, feel, and scent of a woman's feet in stockings after she has worn them. So early on in my dating relationship with my future wife, she would put me totally under her control by letting me rub and kiss her stocking feet. She would hold her stocking feet up to my face knowing that the scent of her feet in her well worn nylons would result in me having an instant erection that would last almost as long as she let me kiss her feet and breathe in her scent.

My soon to be wife knew that I could not resist a woman with pretty feet if she wore nylons and had me kiss and worship her feet. I would have sex with her as often as I could, and in between time would secretly fantasize about kissing and inhaling the scent of her mother's feet in her nylons too. My fiancée (Linda) unknown to me would tell her mother most everything about our relationship. They would talk about their sex lives, and my mother-in-law (Dorothy) would listen to Linda's stories, then tell her daughter about what was missing in her sex life with my father-in-law Art.

Dorothy would tell Linda about the fact that her husband would never have oral sex with her. She in turn would not put her mouth on her husband's penis. So neither partner would perform oral sex on the other, yet both yearned to be on the receiving end of a talented oral partner. For months, Linda listened to her mother complain about how she had read her romantic novels that talked of such activities, but her husband would not consider it. While these same novels told of a woman taking her lover in her mouth, Dorothy could not bring herself to do it. Both were products of strict upbringing that considered anything outside of traditional missionary intercourse to be perverted. Yet, Dorothy wanted to feel the power of an orgasm provided in the same way describe in her novels.

Linda, feeling for her mother, told her that I was quite skilled at oral sex, and she thought that I would be a solution to her problem, but they were at a loss as how to broach the subject. Linda and Dorothy came up with the idea of me being seduced by my mother-in-law. Linda convinced her mom that if they could somehow get her mother's stocking feet under my nose, anything else was possible. So they arranged for me to go to my mother-in-laws house under the pretense of taking her to an event that Art would not be attending. Dorothy would act as if her feet were in dire need of a massage as a result of her shopping all day. The plan was set, and I was to pick up Dorothy, to take her to the event. Linda would already be there, so I was just giving her mom a ride.

I arrived at Dorothy's house at the predetermined time, and she offered me a gin and tonic, saying that she had been on her feet all day. She had showered, but was still wound up, and needed a drink to settle down before we left. According to the plan, Dorothy dangled her shoe off of her foot, rolling her ankle, and saying how she just needed to relax, and that her feet were killing her. Just as they suspected, I offered to help her and give her feet a massage. I knew that I wanted to hold touch, kiss and inhale the scent of Dorothy's stocking feet, but had no idea, that she knew all too well, that as soon as I touched her feet, the game was for all intent and purpose over. I sat on the other end of the sofa, and slipped off her shoes. She had been shopping all day, and had showered, but I did not know at the time, that she had put on the same pair of suntan Leggs Sheer Energy pantyhose (with reinforced toe). After several minutes of gently rubbing her feet, trying my best to hide the fact that I was enjoying the massage much more than she was, she apologized saying that she felt awful. The massage felt so good, but her feet must stink from being in her heels all day.

I gave my best acting job, saying that everything was fine, and that I could not tell that she had worn those pantyhose all day. She then sprung the trap, putting the underside of her foot up to my face, with my nose right at her reinforced toe. She laughingly said you mean you can't smell them. I told her I could but it was not an offensive odor. She then pressed her foot tighter to my face and asked if I was just saying that, or perhaps I enjoyed the strong fragrance. I was embarrassed to admit that I enjoyed the scent of her feet in those nylons, and told her that her daughter would do the very same thing to get me to do whatever she wanted. Dorothy then said, you mean if you smell my stocking feet, you will do whatever I want?

By now I was under her spell, and gently yet passionately held her feet to my face tenderly kissed them, and breathed in the fragrance of her stocking feet. I admitted that I had wanted to do that ever since I first met her. One thing led to another, and within ten minutes, I had my tongue in Dorothy's delicious and previously neglected pussy. After several orgasms, we made passionate love. I did not know at the time, that Linda and Dorothy had hatched the plot, and I was now frightened out of my mind that Linda would somehow find out. Dorothy assured me that it was our secret, and Linda would never find out, but also told me that she could not do without being brought to an orgasm by my tongue. For the next several months, every chance we got, Dorothy would have me kiss her feet in her well worn pantyhose, with me licking her pussy until she could not produce another delicious drop for me to drink. During this time, we gradually expanded our play to include her being introduced to sucking cock. I thought I was in heaven, kissing Dorothy's stocking feet, licking her pussy, and her sucking my cock. All the time, I was making sure that I serviced Linda so she would not become suspicious. Little did I know that Linda and her mom would talk about how she had no idea that giving and receiving oral sex could be so wonderful.

Everything was going according to the plan, which I thought was my plan. Little did I know I was a pawn in the whole scheme. Life as good, until my father-in-law over heard Dorothy talking to Linda on the phone. He was able to discern that his wife was having her pussy eaten by and was sucking the cock of her son-in-law. He did not know that his daughter was on the other end of the phone. He was out of his mind with rage, but did not want to hurt his daughter with the story of her husband's incestuous relationship with her mom.

So, one Saturday morning when Linda and her mom were out, Art stopped by to pay me a visit. He was calm and cool, when he confronted me with the facts. He knew that I was eating his wife, and she was sucking my cock. She had never done this to him in almost 30 years of marriage. He told me in no uncertain terms, that if I didn't want my wife to find out, I would stop seeing Dorothy, and start sucking his cock, to make up for years of doing without. My head was spinning, and I felt like I was going to vomit. It seemed like life as I knew it no longer existed. What choice did I have? While I was an unfaithful husband, I was as straight as an arrow, and putting a man's cock in my mouth was out of the question. He sneered and said the choice was mine. I could break his daughter's heart, or suck his cock. What could I do? So, I started down the road of sucking cock. He would stop by when my wife was not at home, and train me how to be a cock sucker. For the longest time, I hated the sound of his name, but within a few months, I began looking forward to feeling him pump the cum that made my wife down my throat.

For six months, I was now a cock sucker, and had stopped eating Dorothy, and more importantly to me, I was no longer able to inhale the scent of her stocking feet. It was difficult to come up with reasons why I could not service Dorothy, and eventually she told her daughter. Linda and her mom decided to tell me about their plan, and that I had Linda's blessing to orally service her mom. So one Saturday night while Linda was on her back with her stocking feet in my face, and my cock buried in her pussy, she brought up the subject of her mom. To say the least, my cock wilted as soon as she mentioned Dorothy's name. She told me the whole story, and told me that she knew that once her mom got me to kiss her feet, I was helpless. She seemed pleased with herself, knowing that my weakness was exploited by the two women with sexy legs and feet in suntan nylons.

I on the other hand was livid. I told her about her dad finding out, and making me suck his cock for months just so she would not find out. It took me some time to calm down. I was now a cock sucker, and no amount of rationalizing could change that fact. Now that I was fully aware of the entire story, I was able to make decisions for myself. I told her that I would gladly return to playing with Dorothy. I would also continue sucking Art. Linda had to promise that neither of her parents would ever find out the entire story. Art and Dorothy both died in an automobile crash in 1980. I continued to drink their cum until the very end.

Over the years, I admitted to myself that I was bi-sexual, and Linda would have to pay me back for the prank that backfired. We got into swinging, and I had Linda cuckold me at every opportunity. For the next 20 years, Linda continued to wear Leggs Sheer Energy pantyhose, have me kiss her feet in her well worn nylons, but she would also fuck the men I would bring home, then have me lick her freshly fucked pussy clean.

When Linda passed away in 1996, I started looking for t-girls. I now consider myself gay, and only date shemales that wear nylons and want to feed me their cum.

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