Picture this scenario:
Your wife calls her lover and tells him to come over to the house and give her a good fucking.
Her lover inquires: "What about your man?"
"I've got him caged up nice and tight," she murmurs.
To prove her point, she takes a snapshot of you wearing your chastity cage and forwards it to her lover.
Her lover then replies: "I'm on my way!" and ends the call.
Your wife tells you that her man is on his way over. She allows you to give her a back massage while the clock ticks away.
A half-hour later, the doorbell rings.
You troop downstairs in your sissy-boi panties to let her lover in.
He hands you his jacket and then asks: “Where is my bitch?”
You respond: “Upstairs in the bedroom, sir. She’s expecting you.”
He smiles, orders you to stay put and don’t come upstairs for another hour, not before.
You nod your head, knowing that failure would get him mad and your wife upset.
But you cannot help but wish you would be invited to watch, and hopefully your wife would unlock your cage so you can jerk off.
.
