Dirty Talk: A Threesome with A Transsexual Woman

A Threesome with A Transsexual

The Dirty Talk Intro & Disclaimer:  Everything in the story below is random and created on the spot while massaging and giving a handjob to my husband.  No filters, no rules, no boundaries; just a story and situation created to help my husband orgasm and enjoy our experience together.  We do this for intimacy and find handjobs less destructive on our bodies than having sex daily (our bodies just can’t handle penetrative sex each day).   All dirty talk is usually pure fantasy.  I use this dirty talk as a form of mental porn for my husband while he is in a vulnerable state due to being touched and massaged.  Sexual intimacy can also help reduce feelings of anxiety and depression as it triggers the release of three mood-boosting chemicals — dopamine, endorphins and oxytocin.  I usually also get really wet because my own naughty thoughts push my own personal boundaries and really turn me on.  This is why it’s so fun.  Unlike giving a blowjob or going through the theatrics of sex, you both connect thoughts together and create sexual stories in the heat of the moment.  He trusts me and we both love this natural vulnerability.  I can almost get inside his head and control his fantasies, dirty thoughts, and talk him into an orgasm in the exact moment my story hits it’s climax.  During my stories he will ask me questions while I talk.  I will include these to the best of my memory.  In fact, every story is to the best of my memory, as I do not know remember all the exact details.   

Dirty Talk: A Threesome with A Transsexual

So we go out to dinner with the sexy girl we found on a dating app.  Although she is cute, we share her photo with each other in text and there is something distinct about her face and features that seem a bit different. 

Like what?

Her face is a bit longer.  Something about her nose and cheeks seem different, but her body is amazing.


We meet with her in person and you whisper to me that she is sexy as fuck.  I agree.  Conversation is good, we both seem to really enjoy her company.  She is making us laugh and seems to be super sweet.  We both like her a lot.

As dinner wraps up we ask her if she wants to come to our place for a few drinks.  She is hesitant. She leans over and quietly lets us know that she is transsexual.  


I feel my husband’s dick start to soften in my hand.  Usually when his mind is on something else, or if the story has too much detail, his body responds by getting soft because he wants to discuss things rather than orgasm.

Relax. Enjoy yourself.

You sit back a bit uncomfortable but I can tell you are looking at her really intense, trying to see if you can tell.  I don’t think you can.  She is almost a perfect woman.  Her smile, her face, her body, and her personality.  

Lets take her home

We are.  We decide we would take her to our place just to see where things lead.  If anything, you getting a double blow job from both of us will make your night.  If anything else happens, we will see.  

We get her to our place and she slides off her coat.  She has amazing cleavage.  Her lips are thick, so you can’t stop thinking about her sucking your dick.

I can tell you want her, but you’re confused.  So am I.  I want her too.

You do?

Yes, I want to see her dick.  

Me too.

She is sitting in between us.  I lean in to kiss her and quickly put my hand between her legs.  Not something I would normally do, but I don’t believe she has a penis.  I think she is fucking with us.

What do you feel?

She definitely has a penis.

She is erect.  Her dick feels hard, but is still very small.  A cute small.

Yea, I’d rather her be cute and small.

For sure, I only need one man tonight.   I pull her dress up and pull her panties down exposing her penis to you.  She is totally shaved and her dick is a beautiful 3 or 4 inches.  Thick, but tiny, exactly how I’d imagine a woman’s penis would be.  No flaws, no razor bumps, just exactly how a classy woman would maintain her body if she had a penis.

I want to touch it.

You reach over and cup her penis in your hand.  Her head barely pokes out the top of your grip.  Any slight movement will be stroking her dick.  It must feel amazing to have a dick that is the perfect size for a hand.

My husband’s dick is now rock hard.  His mind is open.  His balls are starting to tighten and I can tell he is really getting into the idea.

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Threesome Memoirs – Is My Wife Bisexual?

Venice read over the article and added her own commentary where she felt it was needed prior to publishing.  

2589271Is my wife bisexual?

Think about this question for a minute. Do all men at some point ask this question about their wives? If you didn’t know anything about our blog and what we have been through, what would come to your mind first when you see me ask that question?

I’ll play along.

The first thing I’d think is that the husband is probably curious about the way his wife is behaving. I know for me, I’ve always wondered about Venice’s sexual preference. I knew her best friend was a lesbian and living with another girl, I knew she really enjoyed watching lesbian videos, and I always felt her personality made her feel like a best friend, not a girl friend. She didn’t wear make up, didn’t spend much time fixing her hair, and she could out “joke” me. She just didn’t feel like your everyday girl. At least, not one I had ever dated. However, she always told me that her best friend wasn’t “out” when they were in high school and the video thing is more of being ‘turned on’ by something she knows she would never do. As far as her personality goes, she said I should stop overanalyzing it.

I did.

What are some other reasons husbands may ask this question though? Maybe they caught their wives sizing up other girls or they are openly flirty around other women. Maybe the question is less of a question and more of wishful thinking. It’s not uncommon to ask a question that really isn’t a question, instead it’s just a method used to push an issue or agenda (like this article you’re reading now). It’s not unheard of that a man would actually enjoy his wife being bisexual. In fact, I’d think most men would find out that information and immediately think they could either watch their wife play with another woman or actively participate in a threesome. This is probably why most women are hesitant to ever openly admit they are bisexual. Unlike men, our society doesn’t have a negative stigma associated with women being bisexual. It isn’t a flaw or a sign of weakness. So why would a woman ever keep being bisexual a secret? Well, for one, she just isn’t interested in her man thinking he can have another woman. She’d rather never explore her bisexual side, or explore her bisexual side secretly without including her husband. And unfortunately, this sometimes leads to a woman cheating on her husband with another couple, simply to experience a threesome while keeping her own husband to herself. That sounds crazy huh? How can a woman like women, sometimes even having an affair with a woman and the other woman’s husband, but never come out to her own husband? Embarrassment, jealousy, possession, and lack of trust.

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Threesome Memoirs – Our First Experience

Tonight was the night.  I had a feeling something important was going to happen between Ryan, me, and our third. The first few times she was in our home, we talked, and the most we ever did was kiss. The week prior, I texted to her that the next time we got together, I would be ready; I would ravage her; I wanted to taste her.

I’d been preparing all week for this anticipated night. Down below, I was shaved flawlessly, even got Ryan to inspect for straggling hairs, then used cocoa butter to smooth out my skin.  I made sure my body was entirely fresh and smelling good.

Before she arrived, Ryan and I took a few shots of rum, but it didn’t kick in.  Still sober, I hugged her when she came in and walked with her to the kitchen.  Ansy, I do not remember much of the conversation, but we did talk for a while before moving to our bedroom.  She sat on one of the sofa chairs across from me as I sat on the couch.  “Come sit by me,” I coaxed her. She got up to sit by me. The skirt she was wearing was long and tight. All I could think about was the last time she was here when she wore a short summer dress and sitting on that same sofa chair; I was sitting on the floor eye level to her crotch as she sat Indian-style with the hem of her skirt conveniently pull over her thighs. Back then (two weeks ago) I was nervous to look; I didn’t want to appear perverted.  I did, however, steal a few glances in between as I faked looking around the room. Tonight, I, myself, wore a short spaghetti-strap dress with no bra or panties underneath. I knew I was ready.  I was hoping she was pantiless under her skirt, too.

She moved to the floor and said she wanted to face me when we talked, so I followed and sat across from her, my knees touching hers.  “Can I tell you something?” She nodded her head. “When we first met and I didn’t know you very well yet, I had a lot of boundaries.  But as I got to know you, I started to like you as a person. I began to trust you. Ryan and I trust you. With this trust, my boundaries have been loosened. I used to tell him, ‘If anything ever happens with another woman, I don’t want you touching or feeling her, I don’t even want you to look at her.’  Now, I have this woman here, you, who I trust will respect my wishes and has gained my trust.” I was being sincere and it was such a relief to feel that uncertainly about her being lifted off my shoulders. If anything happened between all of us, I wanted to let her know that she had done right by me and I could concentrate on enjoying my new found sexuality.

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