Replaceing Ruth

Becoming Ruth

Husband forced to serve his wife's lover while she's out of town at a conference (Cuckold and Feminization)

I actually felt relieved when Ruth announced that she had an Out-of-town conference next week. A bit of relief and a break from her intense relationship, actually ours intense relationship, with Adam. What started as her flirtation at work with the handsome colleague who was 10 years younger than her, has turned into a relationship in recent weeks, with my consent.

Not that I had any choice. Ruth made it clear to me that she wasn't going to give up on him, but she was willing to be transparent with me, and tell me everything. No. She didn't love him, that's what she said, but she was definitely in love. In love with him, With his dick, With having sex with him, with being young and sexy again like only he makes her feel.

After she checked with him, she said that Adam even agreed for me to watch. I did it once and that was it. Not because it wasn't good. Quite the opposite. It triggered things in me that I was afraid to reveal even to myself. Seeing Ruth like that, serving a young, erect dick, should have made me jealous, and I really was, But I didn't know which of the both I was jealous of. Since then, I've refused all of Ruthie's attempts to convince me to "just watch."

It was precisely because of my stubborn refusal that I was very surprised by the conversation that preceded her trip. "You know that Adam and I are exclusive," she began, "I am only loyal to him, as you know (I knew it very well - she hasn't let me touch her for weeks) and he is loyal to me too." I remained silent. "But he is not willing to remain loyal for 10 days during my trip to the conference in Las Vegas. He says it's too long without a relief. I had no choice. I suggested that you will replace me."

"What? What are you talking about? Which replacement?" I burst out.

She was not impressed. "First of all, calm down. I am not talking about something you did not done." She touched on a sensitive spot from my past at boarding school that only she knew about.

"It's just a light 5-minute hand job and then some tissue. Don't make a big deal out of it." She felt my resistance begin to melt so she continued, "You don't want Adam to be frustrated and break our exclusivity, it will force me to look outside too. Hang out at pick-up bars where people can see. It's much less suitable for both of us."

She saw that she was penetrating my defense, and gave the final push to break the hesitation. "It will be worth it for you, I promise."

"Will you sleep with me?" I tried to get an explicit commitment.

"I promise you that you will cum. That you will cum as hard as you ever cum. Good enough, baby?" she asked.

I nodded. "I need to hear you say it."

"Okay," I replied, and lowered my eyes.

She lifted my chin with a finger, and looked directly into my eyes. "What's Okay? Baby."

I surrendered. "Okay. I'll replace you at Adam's."

"Good boy," she replied, looking directly into my eyes, "Love you."

I drove her to the airport on Wednesday morning, helped her with her luggage, and escorted her to the gate where the passengers and the escorts are separated. I tried to say goodbye in a light-hearted way, "have a successful conference dear. Show them what you made of. Sell millions and bring home the commissions."

She smiled. "Thank you. Be a good boy. And don't forget, he expects you to contact him."

Why am I the one who needs to contact him? I resented and grumbled to myself the entire ride from the airport to work. He's the one who needs a relief, he's the one who should call. It's not enough that I have to serve him sexually, do I also have to humiliate myself and initiate the meeting? It isn't right.

I had a hard time concentrating all day at work. On the one hand, I decided that I wasn't the one who should make the contact. On the other hand, I knew that in the first conversation with Ruth, the subject would come up and that she would be disappointed in me that I couldn't even do something so simple.

later that evening, after two glasses of liquid courage, I managed to send the required message: [Hi Adam. It's me, Ruth's husband. When do you want me to come over?]

I sat in front of the phone for half an hour, like a school girl in love, until he texted me back [Hi. Nice to hear from you. You can come tomorrow evening at seven o'clock.]

What's so "nice to hear from me?" I was indignant with myself. actually, why shouldn't he feel nice, I will come to him tomorrow for exactly that, to make him feel nice, to be Ruth's nice replacement. his nice entertainment.

Of course, I wasn't able to do any significant work on Thursday either. My thoughts wandered to that time at the boarding school when little Mark and myself were left alone on a cold weekend and took advantage of the emptying room to touch each other. It was a singular and unique event. I convinced myself that it was the confusion of adolescence, the confusion of sexuality, the confusion of the courageous friendship with Mark, the loneliness of empty boarding school where all the students had gone home for vacation. No one would ever know about it. It was just between Mark and me. And Ruth, who I told her about in the mutual confession to neutralize secrets that we had conducted the month before our wedding. Yes, the same Ruth that sends me now to Adam. Ruth, Adam, Mark, they all spun in my head at a crazy pace. I took a pill for the headache that was starting to develop. Suddenly I started laughing. The thought of coming to Adam with the most feminine ancient excuse of a headache made me laugh. Good thing I didn't tell him I was on my period, I made myself laugh even harder.

At seven o'clock sharp I showed up at Adam's apartment. He opened the door for me with a smile that melted my fears. "You came just in time, I made us a light dinner. Red or white?" he asked on his way to the kitchen.

"What are we eating?" I asked.

"Cheese pie." he answered casually.

"Then definitely white," I replied.

The evening passed pleasantly, the pie was excellent, the conversation flowed, the bottle of wine was finished and another bottle was opened, this time red. I understood what she found in him.

"So what now?" I asked. I couldn't believe I had initiated the move.

He looked at me curiously with a hint of a smile. "I think the living room would be the best," he said as he stood up and walked towards it.

I followed him. He went over to the surround sound system, put on some nice music, and sat down in the middle of the large sofa in the living room. I didn't know what to do until he looked at me and patted the cushion of the armchair next to him. I sat down next to him. He was so calm and confident, as if it were completely natural that his mistress's husband would come to pleasure him. In a long, calm movement, he completely removed his pants and underwear, leaving his penis exposed.

"Is it okay if I move to the other side of the sofa?" I asked. "I'm right-handed," I immediately added an explanation to the request.

I hated myself. Why do I have to ask him for permission. Why do I have to explain myself. He should say "thank you" for me being here and that's it.

"Whatever suits you," he replied, spreading his hands on the arm of the sofa and closing his eyes.

I reached out my right hand and began to gently caress his penis. When I saw the beginning of an erection I switched to a real hand job. It didn't work. I even detected movements of avoidance and distancing in his body and a shadow of discomfort was also reflected on his face. I tried everything. I changed the intensity of the contact, the point of contact, added gentle caresses, nothing helped.

In desperation, I continued to pleasure him with my right hand while with my left hand I gently cupped his balls. This caused a significant improvement in his erection, but also placed my face dangerously close to that very same erection.

I felt his hand caressing my head and hair. After a few minutes, the hand moved to caressing the back of my head and slowly applied moderate pressure on it. I understood what he wanted. I had never done that. Not even back then at boarding school. Even though I wanted to. Mark wouldn't let me then. But Adam is allowing it now, and his penis is so clean and beautiful. It will also speed things up and maybe make him come and finally release me. The rationalization convinced me. I allowed the back of my neck to stop resisting the pressure being applied to it, I let my neck bend forward and my lips to open.

It's hard for me to say how long I sucked Adam, but after a long period of time, at least fifteen minutes, he gently pulled me by the hair and said to me pleasantly, "Thank you. It was very pleasant, but I don't think I'm going to come. What can we do?" he added with a smile. "You're not Ruth."

"I'm not Ruth," I agreed.

"Let's get this over with," he suggested and I agreed. We parted ways with a handshake and a smile.

Nothing prepared me for her furious call in the middle of the night. "I don't understand. You can't do a simple thing. How can you fail at it. The man cumes When I walk past him. He cumes four or five times a night with me. You should have please him just once. What's so hard? Explain it to me."

It took me a while to recover from the attack. "I really tried. I tried everything. Even... even a lot... but he said it most correctly. I'm not you. I'm not Ruth."

There was a long silence on the other end of the line. "Hi. Ruth. Are you there?"

"Yes I am. I am thinking. He's right. You're not Ruth. We have to solve it. I'll think of something. Go back to sleep. We'll talk later."

"Good night, my love," I replied, but she had already hung up.

After talking to her, it was hard for me to fall asleep. On the one hand, I felt like I didn't deserve her rage, since I tried so hard to please her and even sucked her boyfriend's cock. On the other hand, she was right that in the bottom line, I was a disappointment, and didn't deliver the required result.

At six in the morning the phone rang again. "Hi. It's me. I found a solution. There's a lot to do and little time to do it, so get up and start getting organized."

"Good morning to you too, my love. Have you slept at all since the flight?"

"No.Not yet. I just finished a long conversation with Adam. I did everything in my power to convince him. I had phone sex with him, I sent him sexy videos of myself, I promised him things... things I didn't want to promise.... everything.... But in the end he agreed."

"Agreed to what Ruth?" I asked.

"Agreed to give you a second chance," she replied with the impatience of someone explaining the obvious. "You have another date with him on Saturday night. It's have to be perfect... you have to be perfect for him... because he won't give you a third chance.

"So get up right now and start following my instructions. It's Friday and it's a very short day, so we have to hurry' that things don't get out of hand. First, go take a shower. Wash yourself with the hair removal cream I have on the sink in the bathroom. When you're done, go downtown to the address I'll text you. Ask for Rebeca. She'll help you."

Her haste made me jump out of bed. I went to the shower, found the cream, applied it, waited the time specified in the instructions, and got in to take a shower. When I got out, I saw that a significant portion of my body hair had indeed fallen out and a strange, even pleasant, feeling of slipperiness enveloped me. I drank my morning espresso and drove downtown to the address texted to me.

When I arrived, I was sure it was a mistake. It was a bridal salon for Jewish women from the Haredi sector. I went in hesitantly and asked about Rebeca. A plump ageless woman with a headscarf quickly approached me and with a kind smile rushed me to the back room. "Usually there are no men here so it's better to keep it private," she added in a whisper.

She sat me down on a low chair, stood behind me and began to work on my hair. It felt like she was pinning all my hair to my scalp in some kind of net. Then she put something on my head and secured it with pins. She moved to stand right in front of me and arranged something on my forehead. "That's it. Everything is perfect. You can take a look in the mirror."

I stood in front of the mirror and was amazed. A wig was installed on my hair that was exactly like my wife's hair. The same devilish, smooth and long hair. Even the same two braided stripes of gold thread on the right side. "Exactly like the picture she sent, isn't it so?" Rebecca asked.

"Exactly" I nodded.

"It's perfect," she replied. "Now I'll teach you how to wear the wig yourself."

On the way back, I received a call from Ruth. "How was it? Are you done?"

"Yes, we're done."

"I know. Rebecca sent me a picture. It looks great. Rebecca is a pro, doing such a good job on you in such a short amount of time. Did you figure out how to wear it yourself? It's important that you master it, because on Saturday night there won't be anyone to help you get ready for your date."

"Yes. I understand. Rebecca explained it to me" I started to reply, "But listen, what's going on here? I'm not sure that..."

"Shhhhhh. Honey," she interrupted me "There's no other way. You said it yourself. The problem on your previous failed date was that you weren't Ruth. Adam felt it, and that's why it didn't work, even though you tried, and Adam told me that you tried your best."

"Did he really tell you that?" I asked with undisguised excitement. I felt proud that Adam recognized my efforts.

"Yes. He said that you really tried, that you were gentle and sweet and that he really liked you. That's exactly why he felt uncomfortable with your incompatibility to please him."

"The truth is, I really like him too. He's a great guy," I said honestly without weighing words.

"I know, sweet baby, he is a great guy. And sweety, he likes you too. But he's not gay. And he needs me. So you have to be me. Exactly me. Replace me completely and perfectly. Don't worry. I'll guide you, okay?"

"Okay" I replied.

"Don't worry, honey. I'm on it. Organizing everything. Just follow my lead and everything will work out fine. We have the whole weekend to prepare and practice. I'm sending you two videos, watch them carefully. I have to go to a lecture at the conference. Write me if there's any problem. Good luck, my baby." she said and hung up.

When I got home I saw that she had sent me an e-mail with a single file. I opened it: [Baby. Watch the video on the big TV in the living room. It'll definitely help on your exciting date. Practice on one of the zucchinis from the fridge, it's very similar. Bye]

The video showed a tiny, delicate young female giving a hand job to a guy with a large penis. The guy's penis was a bit like Adam's, but a little bigger and thicker. The message was clear - if a small female with a small hand can make this big boy cum, then obviously, I myself, with a much larger hand, can make Adam cum. It's all about technique. I watched her run her long, delicate fingers over the penis, tease it lightly with her long, polished nails, wet her palm and slide it over his penis. Unconsciously I started touching my penis, but then I remembered. I'm not watching that to please myself. I'm watching that to learn how to please Adam. The words 'please Adam' sounded strange to me at first, but I got used to them. Yes. Please Adam. That's my job and mission. I'd better start practicing so I won't fail again. I went to the refrigerator, took out a zucchini that I thought was the size of Adam's penis, went back to the living room and started practicing. I imitated the girl's movements in the video several times until I felt It came naturally to me. I stopped the video and practiced without it until I felt proficient enough. I remembered that Ruth had said she would send me two videos, so I sent her an e-mail and asked her to send the additional guiding video as well.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. Strange. I wasn't expecting anyone. I went over and opened it. Standing at the door was Hila, Ruth's beautician. "Hi Hila. Wow, I'm so sorry, Ruth must have forgotten to let you know. She's at a conference out of town." I apologized.

"She didn't forget at all, I'm here for you. Ruth asked me to take care of you urgently. Something about a very important date on Saturday night. She gave me very specific instructions." she added with a smirk smile. "So come on, bring a chair to the living room and let's get started." She sat down across from me and started doing my nails. "What exactly are you doing?" I asked.

"Building your nails, of course. Just like Ruth's" She added.

After half an hour, I already had long, polished nails like Ruth's. Actually, like the girl in the video. "Okay, let's move on to hair removal. Undress and lie on the couch." After the hair removal cream treatment, there wasn't much hair left on my body, but Hila spotted every stray hair and quickly removed it. In the process, she noticed the zucchini and Ruth's e-mail. "So.... I understand that you practiced." she said with a malicious smile.

"How do you know?" I asked in astonishment.

"From the E-mail," she replied, pointing at the email message on the screen, "Practice on zucchini for your date. Nice!" I blushed. "Do you want to show me?" she asked with fake empathy.

"Absolutely not" I replied without looking up.

"Listen carefully" she said assertively "I understand what's going on here. I just did your nails for you in preparation for your big date on Saturday night, for which you're practicing with zucchini. Obviously, you're going to give some guy a hand job. So let me see that your nails are up to the task. You don't want to scratch your man because Hila didn't do a good job on your nails, right?! It's a professional issue. That's my professional responsibility, so go ahead, there's nothing to be ashamed of."

Reluctantly, I pressed play and the delicate girl appeared on the screen again. "Good. Now lie on your stomach. I'll finish your back and in the meantime, you can show me how you work on the zucchini."

I lay on my stomach, held the zucchini in my left hand and touched it with my right hand like the girl in the video. Hila gave me helpful comments in a matter-of-fact voice, but it was clear that she was trying hard to stifle her laughter. I overcame my embarrassment and even thanked her for the helpful comments and advice and practiced them under her guidance.

Meanwhile, another E-mail popped up from Ruth with a video file attached. "Open it. Let's see what it is." Hila order. There was no point in arguing. I also knew what the video showed. Another handjob practice. I opened the file and played it. This time the star of the video was a young man, shaved all over, his penis locked in a plastic device, his nails carefully made, giving a hand job to a big, muscular guy. Without noticing, I began to imitate his movements on the zucchini I was holding.

"It seems that this sissy knows what he's doing" Hila noted appreciatively, "You can definitely learn from him."

"What is a sissy anyway?" I asked her.

"You really don't know? He's a type of feminine man, I don't know exactly the definition of that. He's not exactly gay because he doesn't consider himself a man but a woman in a man's body."

Meanwhile, on the screen, the sissy continued to hold the man's penis but now he began to pleasure it with his mouth. "Show me how you do it too" order Hila.

"I really don't want to" I replied in a pleading tone.

"We both know that tomorrow night you'll have your date's cock in your mouth! A real man's cock! So what's the problem with licking a zucchini now? You have to practice, so stop wasting time and start performing" she commanded in a firm voice and at the same time wildly pulled a hair from my shoulders.