She was planning a trip to see her bull — and she was glowing with excitement. The tickets were booked, her luggage nearly packed.
The day before her flight, she turned to her husband and asked, “Can we buy some nice lingerie for me to wear on my trip?”
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He smiled. “Sure thing. Let’s go to that store you liked the other day.”
The weather was gray and forgettable as they drove over the mountain. The usual route. They both looked forward to the tunnel finally opening — it would make these drives easier.
The lingerie store was familiar, one she’d fallen in love with on a previous visit. Near the counter was a small table with two chairs. He sat down, content to watch, as she dove into the racks of silk and lace.
She looked radiant browsing — completely at ease, picking out what to wear for her lover.
That thought alone made his heart race… and something else stir.
A spontaneous erection tightened in his jeans, and he worried someone might notice.
He shifted in his seat, flustered. Another man would be the first to see her in that lingerie.
Another man would peel it off her skin.
She picked up a few matching sets and walked over, her voice casual.
“Is it okay if I get three?”
He nodded. “If that’s what you want.”
His head was spinning.
Here he was, ready to pay for lingerie that was meant for someone else’s eyes — and loving every second of it.
It wasn’t often he felt thankful to be smaller than average, but right now he was grateful his erection didn’t make a scene. Not that it wasn’t hard — it was. Just small enough not to show.
She vanished into the changing room.
“Can I see?” he asked, half-joking.
She giggled. “No… this isn’t for you.”
He sat back down, cheeks burning. He didn’t know what to do with himself.
Then a wild thought crossed his mind:
What if she bought one of those three-packs of pink panties and told him: “You wear these while I’m away”?
The idea hit him like a wave — humiliating, delicious, inescapable.
He felt even harder now, his nearly three inches straining in frustration.
She came out, holding up two sets, a slight crease of indecision in her brow.
“I have to choose between these,” she said. “The purple stays — he hates purple, so he’ll probably rip that one off me. I’m keeping that!”
He didn’t hesitate. “Shall we get all of them, so you don’t have to choose?”
Her eyes lit up. She kissed him on the cheek, and they made their purchase.
It cost more than he’d planned, but watching her so happy and eager — it was worth every penny.
?
On the drive home, a new worry crept into his thoughts.
What if she knew how much this turned him on?
What if she found out that the idea of being left behind, small and caged, maybe even wearing something of hers… made him even more aroused?
That night, he tried to get frisky — still overwhelmed by it all.
But she gently turned him down.
“I want to be fresh for tomorrow. For him.”
It only made his desire worse. That ache of being denied, of being left behind…
?
The next morning, he drove her to the airport. He kissed her goodbye and watched her walk away.
Then he raced home — desperate, aching, throbbing.
He needed release.
He needed to imagine her in her new lingerie, giving herself fully to her lover.
His beautiful wife — radiant, sexy, and completely out of his reach.
And that was exactly how he wanted it.
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