He Needs Regular Blouse-Wanking    by Prim

"But Mother," giggled Pearl Francks as she saw how many blouses Glenys had selected from her blouse closet, "won't there be a hell of a lot of laundering?" Her husband sat motionless on the newly installed bedroom chaise with its covering of white satin, but his eyes probed his Mother-In-Law for her response to her daughter's concern. Glenys Hughes laid one satin blouse after another across the bed for when it would be needed. "Hah! A lot of laundering. Honey, that's what this emasculated husband of yours loves more than anything else. HE will launder EVERYTHING: blouses, panties, slips. If it's mine, darling, he wants to play with it. I mean, just look at his cock while we're feminizing it." Pearl looked down at Miles Francks, splayed across the satin chaise with his hands and feet fastened with lengths of white ribbon. Glenys had got him in one of her satin blouses so that he looked even more sheepish than usual when he was at her house, while she had his cock smothered beneath the silver satin of one of her ornate evening blouses. It formed a high-pointed tent between his wide-open legs. "I see what you mean, Mother. When your blouse closet is open he can't contain himself. So what do you want me to do? What game are we going to play with him?" "Why blouse-wanking, of course. What else? I suppose I could agree with you and save having indecent emasculated cum all over a dozen blouses or more. I don't know." "No Mommy. I'll do the laundry," cried her crimson-faced son-in-law. I'll wash all of your blouses, Mommy, with you watching and checking that I am taking the greatest care with them - out of my deep respect for you." Miles lowered his head as he spoke these words, as if showing deep respect for his Mother-In-Law was way out of line for a sexless panty-waist like him. But his brave intervention produced the effect he hoped for. "Very well. The little blouse-boy wants a day of playing with Momsy's blouses in the household room. So here, darling," said Glenys, her lips curled with disdain for her daughter's worthless ex-husband, "help yourself to blouses, and help me make this girly little cock wild with blouse-worship." Pearl giggled and selected three blouses in the richest, slinkiest satin, which was easy, because her mother wore nothing else when she was in a blouse mood. She looked Miles in the eye as she showed him the lovely frills of ivory satin he was about to feel. "Here we are then, sissy-boy," she cried, spreading the blouse front downwards onto the satin-covered cock, "I think this is what you want - more than anything else." "Ohhh! Ohhh yes, Pearl," he bleated. "Tha-ank you. Ohhhhhhhhh!" his body convulsed as much as it could with his arms and legs held wide, while his eyes watched with rapture as his former wife slid the satin blouse up and down, this way and that, finding the thickness of his cock through two blouses and squeezing it with pleasure. "And let's add this one too, shall we?" declared Glenys. "He likes lilac Milanese satin, don't you, Miles? You want to show it your deepest respect." Her son-in-law reached upwards with his cock, or tried to, as a third blouse was added and two pairs of female hands worked them round and round and up and down over his rampant sex. "Oh yes, Mommy. Yes I do. I want to show all my respect to your lovely, dominant, satin blouses." And deep inside the satin, his shaft and helmet began the inevitable emissions of sticky, sexless cum that would all have to be washed off, dried and neatly ironed ready to go back into Glenys's blouse closet ready for next time.

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