For the next forty-five minutes Annie tries her best to act normally. She tidies up the plates, and sits down in the lounge with her husband. But always in her mind is the worry that somehow her husband would realise something was wrong, or worse still, he would smell the dried cum on her.
Her husband though is totally oblivious to anything, more interested in the television in front of him rather than his wife sitting close by him. Even when she gets up he hardly acknowledges her as she leaves the room, heading again to the bathroom, wanting to send the picture on time so as not to get a new demanding text.
As before, she drops her skirt, cringing as she sees the tight panties clinging to her, sure that the stain on them has actually grown since last time. Seeing again the dried cum so close to her soft skin, she struggles to hold back the sob she wants to release. Instead she takes her phone and points it close to them, snapping a picture, this one showing fully her panties and the stain on them.
She sits on the toilet, just staring at the picture she has taken, feeling disgust at herself for allowing this to happen, watching the time as the clock approaches the hour.
“Satisfied?” she types the one word message to the picture as she presses send. Then she waits, knowing she will receive a reply and she wants to read it here and not with her husband close at hand.
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