I put on my sleeping clothes and crawled into bed too. My dick had gone down, but my mind was still racing about the implications about my excitement...over humiliation. The next morning, after taking her shower, my wife pranced around in lingerie from the previous night. She kept muttering, “What should I wear? What should I wear?” Eventually, she picked out a rather sheer blouse and some curve-hugging pants. “Honey, you can’t dress like that? Aren’t you teaching today? Don’t you have. Once he saw my boyfriend all he wanted to do was fuck. He would text me like: the next time I’m home let’s fuck, all I want is that pussy and ass of yours I can’t stop thinking about it. We can fuck all day the next time I’m home. I swear I’ll fuck you all day long. Let me fuck your pussy. I’ll fuck you so good. I really didn’t text back to those, but I did once I said, “my boyfriend just came inside my pussy hole you want seconds?” he responded back something like, “Fuck that he can have your. It was close to eight o’clock by the time that I had finished the watering, Jack had arrived with his assistant Graham and offered to finish off the remaining tasks and so I packed up, changed out of my working gear into jeans and a plain grey sweatshirt and walked up to Maggie’s house for breakfast with Gwen. I noticed that she had also done a load of washing which was already hanging out on Maggie’s linen line. We had just finished our toast and marmalade and I was putting the dirty plates. I can't really explain it, but the feeling of letting a man take my body however he wants for his pleasure, in turn, gives me pleasure. It's not necessarily a physical pleasure, some of the things John has done to me were very uncomfortable, even painful. But that somehow translated into a psychological feeling of satisfaction, arousal and an intense desire for more. I can't explain it, it's just what I feel.That evening, I locked myself in my bathroom and tried on the dress to see how it fit..
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