Read part 5 of “Husband, Husband, Neighbor” to get caught up before reading on…
Every time I thought I’d reached a new low, another one awaited me. Two days in chastity had turned me into a whining, sex-starved basket case, and my husband—stranded on a work trip by an ill-timed blizzard—had had enough of me. After finding out he’d be delayed getting home, I uncharacteristically bitched him out over the phone. He punished me with a full day of radio silence. With no idea when he’d be back to unlock my chastity cage, I wasn’t just horny. I was hopeless.
As my knuckles rapped against my next-door neighbor Mike’s front door, my face and neck flushed with embarrassment. I knew he was home—I’d been paying hawk-eyed attention to his comings and goings ever since my chastity-fueled arousal kicked into overdrive—but with every second I stood on his stoop, I felt more and more like the loser I’d become. If he didn’t answer the door soon, I feared I might melt into a puddle of horny humiliation.
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