Crossdressing Husband Novels & Stories

The husband said and pecked his wife's cheek before heading to the restroom. Charlene breathed slowly, she glanced at the woman beside her. She took a sip of champagne and smiled at Charlene. “You're beautiful–” Charlene didn't pivot her head to look at the woman beside her, she thought she couldn't be talking to her. She was still looking around when she felt a soft tap on her shoulder. “You come with your husband?” Puzzlingly, she parted her lips. “Um, no. I came with my dad.” She answered nervously.

Emma paused the video and stared at her husband's face frozen on the screen. He looked terrified. Not guilty. Not angry. Terrified. That realization unsettled her more than anything else. For two days, she'd convinced herself that Daniel was living a secret life with another woman and child. The evidence certainly pointed that way. But now... Now something wasn't adding up. A man having an affair didn't usually look like that. A cheating husband didn't talk about people dying if the truth came out. There was something much bigger hidden beneath the surface. Something dangerous.

She closed her eyes as if letting the past come back to control her—bringing her to a painful time for her to remember. “Because… John and I only have one child,” she answered bitterly. Claire looked up, she looked at Josephine without asking anything, but she was sure that Josephine could read all the questions in her head. One child… What does that mean? “John,” Josephine took a deep breath, “John and I were married when he was still living in Italy. His father's company is in the United States, but it's just a cover-up to hide the truth about their dark business.”

"Married for three and a half years, cheating for three. You've known Grace for four years. Does that mean you two were already seeing each other before the wedding?" "Mr. Jackel, you want a divorce but aren't willing to pay. Are you trying to force your wife out with nothing?" Nate looked horrified. He never expected that everything he had just said was being livestreamed across the internet. At that moment, Grace's screams pierced through the ward. "Get away from me! I'm not a mistress! I'm not! "The unloved one is the real mistress!" Nate froze. "Wendy! If you have a problem, come at me!"

"Don't you dare touch me, Dylan Rios! Stay away from me. I didn't know your reason, but I will trust my husband more than you." "That's not his thing, it's his step-sister who's with him in the picture. He can't fool me. You know what? When he came back here he promised that we'd start a family, so don't try to destroy us." A smile drew on his lips which made my forehead furrow. "So, that's his reason? I thought your husband was just the CEO of the company. I didn't know that he's also a scriptwriter." "Don't insult my husband, Dylan."

"But I won't marry you." "Oh. But what I want is for you to marry me," I said in a stern voice. "I can't get pregnant without a husband, Adam." I brought my hand to my mouth when I suddenly felt nauseous. "If I have to pay you just for you to marry me, I'd gladly do it. Just name your price." Adam looked at me as if I had grown horns on my head. "Fine. Ten million dollars, Claire." "Ten million? Consider it done," I answered just as I finally threw up my dinner in front of him.

"Fuuuckk!" Slowly, I retract my fingers and fall to the rug, too exhausted to remain sitting. Though exhausted, I manage to look toward my dear husband. He looks out of sorts. His chest rises and falls in hard beats, almost as if he were having problems breathing. His hair sticks to his forehead in thick, dark clusters. And, oh my God, the way his dick holds his pants up—that definitely hurts. When his eyes finally leave the mold of my breasts and meet mine, his are glazed over, coated with raw desire.

‘Are we going to a Goth club or a funeral? They both looked sheepish. Cath offered a scanty explanation. ‘You’ll find out later.’ Cath’s husband drove us to some seedy corner in the seediest part of town. He was unhappy about leaving his wife in the neighbourhood, but she laughed at him. He tried not to laugh at Abe, dressed in little more than a pelmet and high heels, a low-cut sleeveless blouse and a beret. The colours didn’t match, hair sprouted wherever cloth met skin, but as Mave pointed out, there would be so little light no one would notice. One thing I did notice – Abe was in earnest. I had to conclude, any bloke who took this situation seriously had to have clandestine cross-dressin

The crystal chandelier above the grand staircase of the Cross estate felt like a guillotine of light. I stood at the top of the marble landing, my fingers digging into the velvet fabric of my Dior evening gown. Downstairs, the elite of Los Angeles Alphas in thousand-dollar suits and their perfumed, polished Lunas laughed over glasses of vintage champagne. They were celebrating another year of the Cross Foundation’s dominance. They were celebrating my husband, Julian. To them, I was the crown jewel of his collection. The silent, elegant wife who never missed a beat, never spoke out of turn, and always wore the right shade of lipstick to hide the bruises on my spirit.

Did she expect her husband to recognize her when she was dressed like a prostitute? As Tina stared at her husband, her husband stared back at her with his eyes widened. He couldn't believe that this was his wife. His mouth was open agape as he checked her out from up to down. What the hell? Is this an impostor or really his wife? What was going on? The black net gown she was wearing was so short and even had a slit in the thigh. It was exposed that he could almost see her breast from the net if it wasn't for the black bra she was wearing.