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The Woman First Chronicles. A taste of what is coming in book 2. Meanwhile, you can get Book 1 NOW!

On the stroke of midnight, Chris held up the panties his wife, Amanda had been wearing that evening, taking a moment to consider their significance before progressing with his hand-washing. Above the steam of the hand-hot water awaiting their immersion, he contemplated the delicate, translucent lace held together with bows of silk ribbon hip ties. What bewildered him to the point of bafflement was their vivid red hue. It was a choice of color his lady rarely made in her lingerie preferences. The abundance of diversity in her panty drawers included all manner of shade and fabric but the predominance of white, black, flower pattern print, pink and other pastels left little room for vibrant red. Despite his intimate knowledge of his wife’s underwear, never before had Chris set eyes on these fetching, if bold, panties. Clearly, the man who was in her bed at that moment was satisfying her voracious sexual appetite in a manner he never could, to the extent that he was influencing her mood beneath her dress. Since she had met David, Chris had noticed a distinct lightness of foot and flushness of cheek in his wife.
Under no circumstances would Amanda permit him to wear such audacious panties. Lifting his petticoats, Chris studied his own ivory silk, bikini briefs. Whilst appreciating their modest loveliness, he couldn’t help wondering if she would ever allow him to remove these pretty knickers in favour of something as brazen and shameless as the panties he held in his hands. Stretching them as much as their knicker elastic would allow him, he held them to his face and breathed deeply. Their familiar, musky scent, combined with traces of Chanel № 19, left him longing to be the one with her now. The sexual jealousy with which he thought he was coming to terms, dare he say, even coming to enjoy, struck him mercilessly now with pangs of excruciating anguish. The audible delights of his wife’s ecstasy could be heard all the way from her boudoir. As his own pretty panties struggled with the containment of his arousal, he removed Amanda’s panties from his nostrils with unbearable reluctance and dipped them into the soapy water. To the echoes of his wife calling out David’s name between her repeated screams of “yes”, Chris found a natural rhythm for which he could execute his labors. Such was the lot of a sissy husband who had signed up to the post-nuptial terms of the Maidservant’s Cuckold Covenant. black tie dresses