Gynecomastia Part 5
Read Part 2 Here.
Read Part 3 Here.
Read Part 4 Here.
“Did you really have to pile on in there? This is hard enough without you trying to hurt me,” I started as soon as the car door closed.
“OH, sweetie, I was just teasing you. We’ve got an answer now, and you’ve had such a great attitude about this that I didn’t think it would bother you. But you’re right. I need to be more aware of your feelings, especially with you going through female puberty for a bit,” my wife said.
“I’m not going through female puberty. It’s just a hormone imbalance. I’m not a girl just because of these,” I said while waving at my breaststroke.
“You’re right. You’re my BIG strapping manly man husband,” she replied, dripping in sarcasm.
The tone of her comment wasn’t lost on me, but I was still mad between her comments at the doctor and her comments before
“Also, what did you mean by your comment before?”
“What comment before?” she replied with a hint in her voice that she knew.
“The one about how I look.”
“I wouldn’t comment on your boobs, honey. I know how sensitive you are about them right now.”
“No, that wasn’t what the comment was about.”
“I don’t guess I remember. I’m sorry. Can you remind me?” my wife asked.
“Fine! That I should be embarrassed that I make less of a bulge in panties than you do,” I nearly yelled.
“I said no such thing. I said it was embarrassing, as in embarrassing to me, that I make more of a bulge in panties. It had nothing to do with you. But thanks for bringing that back up.”
Somehow my chewing her out over her comments about my package had turned into me being insensitive to how she saw herself. I decided to be quiet for the rest of the drive home.
I was anxious and ready to get out of these panties when we got home. This whole bet my ego got me into, coupled with my pride hiding my manboobs, had spiraled today into me needing to taper off my estrogen levels progressively. I made it to our room and my bra off and jeans down by the time I cleared the threshold.
That was when my wife surprised me. She grabbed my hips from behind and whispered, “You know this whole thing is so taboo it’s got me very turned on.”
As she said this, she reached around with both hands. One went down to rub my crotch, the other up to tweak my very sensitive nipple. I couldn’t contain a moan of approval despite my efforts.
I knew I would need his content to pull off my next project. The opportunity to fool around with him in panties was just a bonus. His reaction to my initial tease told me he wanted this too. I couldn’t help but notice there wasn’t really a shaft to jerk currently, so I decided to push his little dick head inward and rub it in slow, smooth circles like I would my clit.
I leaned forward and whispered, “Do you like it when I rub it like that?”
He couldn’t respond vocally but nodded while pre-cum started to soak the front of his panties.
I asked one more question “Am I making you wet?”
And he came with a shudder after no more than thirty seconds of stimulation. His ejaculation was more of a flow than an explosion like usual. I didn’t even know he was close. I was perplexed as to how he had gotten hard enough to cum without protruding out. His nub never even felt stiff. This all made me even more turned on.
“Fuck me with your cock,” I said.
“I don’t think I can just yet. Just give me some time to re—”
“Why should I wait, hmm? I’m not the one who came in my panties from being fingered instead of fucking my wife.”
“I can eat you out,” he offered.
“That’s sweet, but no, go to my nightstand and get the real cock”
His hesitancy around using my dildo is nothing new. Still, he’s avoided it like the plague since I ‘accidentally’ moaned my exes name (Jay) when he fucked me with it recently. He reluctantly got it out and began to tease me with it. He didn’t stop or mention what happened the last time I went for it.
“OH baby, don’t tease me. I’ve missed your big manly cock. Are you better than my husband? Of course, you are. My husband’s clit dick fits in panties with no bulge,” I moaned.
When I saw my hubby’s reaction to that, I was shocked. He had reached inside his panties and appeared fingering himself like a woman from this angle. Suddenly, the site sent me over the edge, and I had a loud, powerful orgasm.
Husband’s perspective …
I never was a fan of using the dildo due to my insecurities. I didn’t want to after her slip. She doesn’t know I heard this week. But she started acting like Jay was fucking her. I knew I had to stop it.
I reached for my dick to coax it back to life. It was practically internal, so I rubbed it like my wife did. I was super turned on but still barely getting hard when my wife had the loudest orgasm of our marriage. I don’t know if it was seeing her sheer pleasure, her squeezing her legs around me and the dildo, or just the day, but this was enough to send me over the edge. I came suddenly with a mostly soft, barely poking-out dick. It surprised me so much that I let out a far-from-masculine squeal.
“Oh my, you made us both cum, Jay,” my wife said.
“I was trying—I was just—”
“Honey, you don’t have to explain to me,” she said. “I get why you were fingering yourself. It’s pretty hot when I’m that turned on.”
“You turned me on, but I wasn’t fingering myself. I was trying to get ready to fuck you instead of Jay. The toy cock, I mean.”
“Babe, I can tell this has you all flustered. As much as I’d love to keep lounging and fooling around, we must go shopping. Go get cleaned up, girl, and I’ll get us both out some clothes,” my wife said.
That was it. That comment was the final straw. I pulled down my panties, I mean these undies, and said, “Do I look like a girl to you?”
My attempt to save my pride had utterly failed. I didn’t consider the impact of the two orgasms. My balls were retracted inside me, my dick looked inside out, and I had cum running down my sack, still attached to the panties as I removed them.
My wife snorted at the sight, and I stormed off before she could try to say anything.
If his feminine squeal while cumming with me wasn’t enough, the sight I just saw was. My husband attempted to reassert his masculinity by yanking his panties down to show me how much of a man he was. This would be comical on his best day, but today wasn’t his best. Nothing was protruding, hanging, or even poking out close to what a man would have. And his cummies were running down the crease in his sack just like they would a woman’s vagina, complete with the string still attached to the panties that he quit pulling down at mid-thigh. Just too perfect.
His little (pun intended) outburst had changed my plans. Before this, I’d planned to cover for him while we bra-shopped and only have him try on in private changing rooms I could help. Now, well, I wanted to double down. First up was to twist the knife a bit. I popped my head in the bathroom door.
“Hey, babe,” I said. “Sorry if I went too far. I was trying to keep it light. Got a message from my office asking you to do a bit more cleanup. Need your chest and armpits hairless to ensure she has an unobstructed view for checkups.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” my hubby said.
“I know you’re upset. So I’ll cut to it. You don’t want to shave, and that’s a large area for laser removal. I’d use a hair removal cream. I have some in the cabinet.”
“I’ll just do it before my follow-up,” he said.
“Okay, but she may think your skin irritation from doing the cream so recently is something else. Plus, the hair rubbing under your bra straps won’t feel good soon.”
I shut the door with that, knowing he would use the cream.
Now the real fun began. Time to find him some clothes. I had some ‘boyfriend’ cut jeans and a graphic Nirvana tee. Those would be easy to explain. The tricky part was next. Which of my panties did I want to see my husband in?
Thongs were very tempting, but I didn’t want any chance of even his balls hanging out where he could say he was ‘too big.’ Period panties were certainly big enough to contain but no fun. I had some boyshorts that would be easy to play off, like the jeans, but they were pretty bland since I mostly wore those under dresses and skirts. Then it hit me. I had some cheeky-cut hipster panties.
These would give the same effect in the back as a thong with plenty of room for his bits. The material was soft and sure to drive him crazy. Better yet were the color options. Pink with white lace, white with black lace, red with pink stripes, and the winner for today is light purple with a white accent, including a cute bow on the front.
I set out his clothes and got dressed. I assumed he would wear his bra to hide his new hairless body. He opened the door, and what appeared was so much better than that. He had on the bra, no towel, and got carried away with the hair removal as he looked smooth from head to toe.
“Damn, you look hot!” I said.
It was true and would help what was to come next.
“Could you not decide on your outfit?” he said.
“No, I’ve got on what I picked for me. This outfit is for you.”
“OH, you can’t be serious. Have you lost your mind? Why would you go out of your way to make this harder?” he complained.
“First, I assumed you would not want to bra shop like a man with boobs. My bad for assuming. Second, they’re boyfriend-cut jeans, as in masculine cut. We’re not talking jeggings here. Third, it’s a Nirvana tee, and you were the very one that said you didn’t have a decent shirt that fits over your bra. And last, I assume this is all about the undies. Yes, they’re panties. I picked the ones with the most coverage outside of my period panties. I understand you don’t want to wear my panties, and I’m not ecstatic about it either (lie). But I’m not the one who came twice in her only clean panties today.”
He looked defeated.
“What if this stuff doesn’t fit?” was his only rebuttal.
“Same deal as earlier. It fits you wear it. If not, we will re-group. I’m sure I have a flowy dress in there instead,” I said.
That finished him off. He looked properly motivated to make sure it all fit now. He slipped on the Nirvana tee first. Now it was time for the main event. As he stepped into my purple panties, he turned around. I didn’t stop him this time because I couldn’t wait to see his ass in these.
“Your ass looks so cheeky in these. Such a cutie!” I piled on as he pulled them into place.
I suspected he fit embarrassingly well since he didn’t turn around before slipping on the jeans. They were still snug at the top, but the threat of a dress kept him going until they were in place. When he turned around, though, I almost orgasmed on the spot. I don’t know if it was the jeans, panties, his package, or all three. There at the crotch of the jeans, where there would have been an obscene bulge on a man in jeans like this, was a distinct indention that is commonly known as a camel toe.
“Wow, those jeans fit better than yours. The denims not all bunched up. I’m between your legs for once,” I said to him.
To top it off, I handed him flats to wear and cut him off before he complained.
“Same rule. If they fit—you wear them.”
He slipped on the black flats with ease.
“I guess you wear a women’s size seven and a half. That explains a lot,” I said with a smirk.
“What does that mean?” he asked.
“You know the saying little feet means a little clit. Oh, I mean a little dick.”
To Be Continued…
(Part 6 will include bra shopping, the trip to pick up his meds, and his measurements begin.)
*This story has been edited to fix spelling, punctuation, formatting errors, & basic grammar, but the narrative and plot have remained the same. Even with the limited editing done here, it doesn’t mean any possible major flaws in this story were fixed (That’s the author’s job). The opinions/views expressed in this story (and in any comments) are those of the author and do not represent this site. We support freedom of speech. This story was submitted directly to this website. Thank you so much for sharing your story with us.