What's Left Unsaid - Chapter 8

“Have you tried an extender? Or perhaps a penis sleeve?”

I suppressed the urge to grab Dr. Vance by his white coat collar and throw him across the room. Mainly because that wouldn’t be good for my back. Not because the suggestion of using some sort of false penis to please my wife was utterly humiliating.

It wasn’t the first time this idea had come up. Daisy had even suggested it at one point, though that had been early on after I’d fully recovered from my injury and surgeries. Just as a temporary thing. That was before we realized the depth of my situation. 

I wasn’t so toxically masculine that I couldn’t consider the option. So I researched it. Of course… The main reason for the devices wasn’t because of medical conditions. It was fetish. Kink. Humiliation. At least that was the majority of what I found in the quick searches I’d conducted. And the few porn videos I’d watched that involved them… they gave me too many complex feelings that I didn’t want to consider.

The diminutive therapist was sitting back in his chair, tablet balanced on his knee and a stylus in hand, twirling it absently as he stared at me and Daisy thoughtfully. Her hand was in mine, squeezing tightly.

These visits were always uncomfortable. Meeting with a therapist to discuss my trauma. My PTSD. And of course, my psychosexual problems. Though the other doctors maintained that the accident primarily caused my impotence, wires getting crossed and all that bio-babble that I didn’t understand. However, they agreed there might be a psychological factor too.

The body was a whole organism. All the parts working together. If one part broke, it could affect others. But, it could also be repaired. But the whole body had to participate. Even if I recovered physically, my mind might not accept the healing and still cause problems. Phantom pain. Or… in my case, preventing my sexual ability.

I didn’t think it was physiological. I was attracted to Daisy. And all our attempts at intimacy had been arousing, and for most of them I’d been able to ejaculate. I just couldn’t get erect. And it still hurt like fucking hell. Maybe that part was in my brain. But I couldn’t talk to the doctor about that while Daisy sat beside me. I couldn’t and wouldn’t admit to her that when I came… fuck it felt like I was getting pummeled in the stomach by a boxing kangaroo.

“We’ve talked about it.” Daisy spoke up, leaning forward, still holding my hand. She was dressed in an old t-shirt and black yoga tights. Beautiful and simple. There was a time seeing her in tights like this would have made me half hard all day.

Dr. Vance tapped his tablet screen with his stylus. “And?”

I grit my teeth. “I… it just doesn’t… I mean, I suppose it wouldn’t be a bad thing.” It was hard to consider. But things weren’t getting better. Daisy wanted penetration. A vibrator, fingers, whatever other toys we had, just weren’t doing it for her. I could feel the tension in her when she came home from work. When we attempted making love in new ways to try to please each other.

She always came. Multiple times. But… it just wasn’t what she wanted. Not completely. I could see it in her eyes. In her sweet smile when we were lying with each other after. She was happy. But… just not fulfilled. And, just like I would never tell her about the pain when I came, she would never tell me she was lacking when it came to sex.

Daisy leaned close, arm against mine, fingers intertwined. “I understand why you’re reluctant.” The look in her eyes was sympathetic and cautious. “That… it wouldn’t really do anything for you. But… Don't you think we could try? You know I’m not going to leave you unfulfilled. And this isn’t some sort of cuckolding… humiliation thing.” Her voice cracked a little, and her eyes darted away when she said the word ‘cuckold’.

Is it because you’ve already done that, Daisy? You’ve already made me a cuckold. Fucking Ash for over a month.

It seemed like the affair was over for now. I’d gone through the rest of her texts. Over the last few weeks since I’d run through them all. Looked at all the dick pics that Ash had sent. All the photos he’d taken with her. The ones she’d sent him…

The one I kept going back to was one so utterly sensual I jerked myself off to it multiple times. A strange activity since I couldn’t get hard in my hand. It was like squeezing one of those squishy toys that would constantly slip out of your hands, filled with bright colored gels and glitter.

Daisy lay back on our bed… our bed!... with her legs spread, clearly having either just gotten out of the shower or finished working out. Her pale skin glistened with moisture. Her face was in the background, blurred. The camera focused on her pussy. Smooth as silk. Her fingers peeling open her lips to expose bright, needy pink. The wedding ring I gave her was shining with a string of her arousal dripping from the diamond to her clit.

My wife had sent that to Ash at his request. Demand. And the things Ash had replied with… one dick pic of his cock raging hard and cum all over his crown and pooling on his hard stomach, and several messages of how tight and fucking slutty her pussy looked had driven me over the edge.

But there were dozens of videos and pictures. All of which I’d downloaded and hidden away in my private drive, just in case Daisy ever decided to delete the evidence of her infidelity.

As much as I hated it, I couldn’t deny it was arousing. Daisy was beautiful when she was having sex. When she was cumming. Being pleasured. Fucking. And it was clear she didn’t have any sort of romantic feelings for Ash. The way they talked, they were like Fuck-emies. Fucking Enemies.

But once I’d caught up with their messages, I’d seen Daisy’s confession of wanting to take care of me. That what she was doing was unfair, and she was stopping it. After that, it was all typical work related texts and nothing more.

Part of me was happy that Daisy loved me enough to break it off, even though it was clearly something that gave her fulfillment, even if it was just a physical thing. But… I could tell it was a sacrifice.

Weeks had passed. And the only thing organic that had entered her body besides my fingers or hers (tongues too, of course) was a cucumber. Yes. We’d tried a cucumber with a condom and… honestly… that had been a pretty funny experience. Neither of us got off. All we ended up doing was laughing to the point of tears and then took the cucumber, cut it up and made a salad. That was… weirdly kinky and erotic. 

Never in my wildest dreams had I considered it possible to sensually eat a salad. But Daisy had done it. Looking at me from across the dinner table, fork spearing a slice of cucumber, eyes sultry, licking the slice and sucking along the thinly trimmed vegetable before taking a solid bite, and moaning.

It gave me… very weird and kinky ideas that I filed away for some other time. Maybe to just sit and fade away. Or… who knows, maybe we would talk about things one day and throw out some weird ideas to try.

I squeezed Daisy’s hand. I knew she wasn’t trying to humiliate me with this suggestion. It was authentic and sincere. She just wanted to connect with me. And maybe this was a way we could do it.

Penis pumps were out. At least for now. My doctors were hesitant to do any invasive surgery. And though it wasn’t major, my body and brain were still trying to fix themselves. Adding ‌new stuff was just an insult to injury in their minds. Or maybe they just didn’t want to get sued. 

“Okay.” I muttered and leaned back.

Dr. Vance looked at his tablet and jotted a few things down, stylus tapping and clicking and sliding across the screen. “Alright. It’s worth a try. And honestly you lose nothing if it isn’t for you. Look at it as sexual exploration. Just trying new things. You don’t have to think of this as a solution to a problem. Most likely the reason you're reluctant, Conner, is because you think something’s wrong and that this is a solution. Of course, it can be viewed that way, but that is making you feel like you’re broken. And we’ve been over this. You’re not broken. Your body has gone through something traumatic and is trying to rewire and heal itself. Since surgeries and medicines are out for now, I think this is a good route to take. But just view it as play, not a doctoral recommendation.” The man grinned.

I wanted to punch him.

…

I peeked out of the bathroom, taking a look at Conner as he sat on the side of the bed staring down between his legs.

God, he looked so defeated. I knew this was going to be hard for him. The idea of using a penis sleeve was so unappealing. The device was simply a hollow dildo that could be strapped around a person's crotch. Since it was hollow, Conner could put his flaccid penis inside it and use it like it was his actual member. He wouldn’t feel anything. This wasn’t like a condom. It was thick plastic. Not thin latex. And of course, there was the stigma behind it. Usually, a device like that was either used by girls or by men who were smaller, or as a way of humiliation.

Conner wasn’t small. Not by a long shot. But putting something like that on obviously felt like he was failing. And no matter how much we talked about it… I don’t know that he was ever going to see it differently. But maybe… maybe if we did this properly, and it was an enjoyable experience, then we could adjust. His mind could change.

I stood back in the bathroom, taking a few deep breaths and slapping my cheeks gently. “Okay Daisy. You can do this. It’s for him. It’s for you. It’s for us. You go out there and you put on the best show of your life.”

Wow, that sounded wrong. Like I was going to fake sexual pleasure with my husband. I hadn’t ever faked an orgasm with Conner. Not once. Never even had to consider it. And I knew tonight would be no different. My husband would make me cum no matter what. But I wanted this to be good, better than good. I wanted him to see that doing this could be a way for us to connect and that he wasn’t being demeaned. The fake penis wouldn’t be his flesh and blood, but it would be him. His motions. His love. And I was going to make sure he knew it.

…

Putting on the sheath had been relatively easy, though a bit awkward. It was bad enough going to the local sex shop (Lacy’s Luxuries), to purchase it, but to actually wear the thing was…

I couldn’t bring myself to finish my thoughts. They all led down ‌roads that were dark and mocking. The sounds of Daisy getting ready in the bathroom were a decent distraction, but barely enough to keep me together. Between my legs, the clear sheath jutted up, molded to look like an erect penis with all the details, but see-through. I could see my flaccid member inside the chamber, nestled tightly. It was awkward, but not uncomfortable. Almost like I was wearing a Jockstrap or a cup for sports. We’d gone with the clear option because the others… just looking at the black ones, the flesh toned, even the multi-colored ones didn’t sit right with me. They were either too real and made me feel like I was trying to compensate, or too ridiculous in their flashiness to be taken seriously. That left the one I was now wearing.

And to add insult to this ever growing humiliation, the sheath was clearly an inch longer than my usual erect length, and thicker (which it had to be, obviously, to accommodate a penis whether flaccid or erect).

Maybe it was my addled brain… but the length and size looked similar to…

The door to the bathroom opened, and my breath caught. Daisy stood with a playful grin on her face, her dark brunette locks tied up in two pigtails. Her top was similar to a cheerleading uniform, white and trimmed in gold. This top would never have passed the school dress code. It was barely long enough to cover her breasts, the undersides of which were hanging freely and sensually. Cock Sucker U was written across the front in big, bold, golden lettering. Her flat, hard stomach was exposed and glittered with gold flecks, so did her cheeks and the golden eyeshadow she was wearing sparkled as well. The golden skirt was barely six inches long, fully exposing her bald cunt that… holy shit, she’d painted it with the same golden eyeshadow coloring, making it glitter and sparkle as if this were some sort of cartoon. White knee-high socks and golden sneakers finished the outfit.

She was… fuck, she was a horrifying temptress of pure sexual desire. Lust standing in the doorway. I felt my blood pump and stir and…did my cock twitch? I wasn’t sure. Maybe? Or was it just muscle reflex? It wasn’t like my penis just hung limp and dead, it was still a living part of my body. It just didn’t have its full function.

My eyes wouldn’t leave her. Taking every inch of her. My brain cataloged it all and saved it forever. I’d be on my deathbed, riddled with Alzheimer's and dementia, and I’d still be able to see the image of her clear as day.

One step and my mouth ran dry. Another slow step, her hips swaying, making the skirt flutter around her hips, further accenting her sparkling vagina, and my temperature rose. 

Daisy bit her lip, her eyes dark and shimmering as she made her way towards me like a goddess of sex and want. Standing in front of me, she trailed a hand down along her stomach, tracing the light impression of her firm abs. Her fingers moved over the skirt, down to her smooth golden mound. “Hey…” She whispered, husky and sensual.

My mouth was a desert. I couldn’t speak. And she could see it, having rendered me speechless, and grinned with delight. Her fingers peeled open her labia, her pink glistening with arousal. “Like what you see?”

I croaked something out. My blood was boiling. I felt a stirring in my groin. Pre-cum was leaking into the hollow sheath. There was no doubt I was panting like a dog, hungry for my meal.

Leaning forward, her breasts swaying and slipping out from under the thin material, revealing hard nipples, she ran her fingers through my hair and brought her lips to mine. “Are you ready?” Her words were soft, lingering on my lips as her tongue flicked my lips.

“I…I…” 

Her grin made me melt. “Good.” The smell of her breath was minty, warm, wet. Daisy straddled my lap, running a hand down my naked chest until she came to the sheath and gripped it at the base. I felt the soft trace of her fingers against my pubic hair. Guiding the false penis towards her slit, I finally broke eye contact with her and looked down. I watched as the clear plastic rubbed along the golden flesh of her sex until it found the tight hole.

I remembered how that tight ring of muscles felt. Soft. Pliable. Warm. The trembling of her muscles as I would push inside. How she would squeeze me. The slickness of her desire and how it would coat my shaft, drip down my burning skin and throbbing member. How she would moan as I entered her body, and we became one.

The sheath pushed inside, and Daisy gasped.

I felt nothing.

I held her hips. I could feel her skin. Burning. Warm. Breaking out in goosebumps. Flushed. Her breath was intoxicating, her mouth finding mine again as she slowly sank down.

I felt nothing.

She felt everything.

“Oh God.” She whispered and pressed down more, more.

I held her beautiful ass tightly. Kissing her deeply as her body felt pleasure, and I sat, only feeling her pressing against me. Her breasts smashed against my chest, and her nipples rubbed along me like erasers trying to rub me out of existence. 

“Fuck…oh fuck, honey.” She moaned, hands in my hair gripping hard and tight.

I moved my mouth to her neck. Her arms wrapped around me. My wife started to move. Up and down. When she slid down, I felt the heat of her lips, just the gentle brush of her bare golden blushed skin. A soft leaking moisture dripped and began gathering around the base of the sheath and my flesh. I could hear the slick squelching sounds of her pussy spreading for… it wasn’t me…

I gripped her ass hard and tight, digging my nails in, starting to help her move up and down. Gasping and moaning.

She was feeling good. So good. And all I could think…

All I could hear…

See…

Daisy riding Ash. Being impaled over and over on his raw, real cock. Her pussy spreading, stretching. Her moans. These very same moans and gasps she was giving me for a fake penis, she gave to Ash for his actual blood and skin.

She arched back, tits bouncing as she moved against me, up and down. Her thighs slapping against me. Ass tight and shaking. “Fuck…fuck me… oh god honey so good…so fucking good.”

I kept my teeth grit, keeping the tears away. I watched her writhe and gasp. Starting to sweat. The glitter and the blush started to run from her efforts.

My vision blurred. Seeing double. Seeing my beautiful wife standing in a hotel room, bent over with Ash gripping her shoulders and ramming his cock into her. Making her ass shake. Her tits bouncing. Deep primal groans coming from her as Ash looked at the camera he’d set up and grinning cockily. 

That’s it, D… take my fucking dick. You love it.

Sh…shut…up!

That image blurred into the one in front of me. My wife writing and moaning on my lap, slapping down against me. But it wasn’t me inside her. It was something fake. A stand in for the real thing.

It made me burn. My chest tightened. My stomach twisted. Rage. I was so fucking angry. Angry with myself. My body. My stupid limp dick that just wouldn’t do what it was supposed to. And I was angry with Daisy… She was a cheater. God, why did she have to do that? But that just looped back around to my own bodily failings. I could understand in a fucked up way why she’d done it.

I stood up suddenly. Daisy yelped, wrapping her arms around me tightly so she wouldn’t fall. But I wasn’t going to let her fall. I dug my nails into her ass, causing bruises, and started ramming her down on me. She screamed, and her eyes went wide.

I felt nothing. Fucking nothing. But I was sure as hell going to make Daisy feel something. I would make her feel it. Me. Even if it was with this stupid piece of molded plastic.

“Conner!” Daisy gasped. Eyes wide, she held onto me like she was going to get lost.

I didn’t play nice. I didn’t concern myself with how what I was doing might hurt. I just wanted her to feel… feel my rage… my anger… my sadness… everything I was keeping inside and that just wouldn’t go away.

She arched back screaming. “Oh fuckinggodfuckingshit honey yes yes fuck me! God fuck me!” She whimpered and sobbed. It clearly hurt, but she wasn’t telling him to stop. She wanted more.

“AAAAHHHHH!” I screamed into her face. Into the ether. The world that had fucked me up and didn’t care. My speed and grip were relentless. 

Daisy started to convulse and shake, and then I felt a warm spray of her juices as she began to squirt all over me. It dripped all over my legs and onto the floor as she whimpered so loudly that I was afraid the neighbors might call the police to report a murder or a domestic dispute.

“OHHHHGODDDDDD!” She cried and moved back, biting my shoulder hard enough that she broke the skin.

My own orgasm happened. I shot my load into the sheath. Feeling the pooling warmth and sticky consistency of my seed flowing around my flaccid member. The feeling of being gut punched was lessened because of the burning of my muscles as I continued ramming the toy into my wife. That was the one nice thing about this stupid piece of plastic. It never went limp. So I could fuck her forever.

And I did.

I turned and threw her onto the bed. Climbed onto her as I was panting and sweating and rammed the sheath back into her, making her tremble and cry out. I covered her mouth, kissing hard and deep as I pumped into her over and over and over. I didn’t let up. I let my muscles burn and strain. I wanted my wife to cum. Cum and cum and cum.

At some point, we were both crying. Our tears mixed as we kissed and sucked and bit at each other’s mouths.

I don’t know when I stopped… maybe when my body just couldn’t take it anymore. We collapsed onto the bed next to each other, panting and sweating. Barely hanging on to consciousness.

Wiping sweat away from my eyes, I looked over at Daisy, and the look on her face was of pure contentment and satisfaction. The beautiful blue of her eyes was deep. She reached out and took my hand, lacing our fingers together. There were words on her lips, but they slipped away as her eyes closed and she slipped into a deep sleep.

I was right behind her. Unable to stay awake. But I kept our hands together. Not willing to let go.