The Undressing

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My wife’s eyes had that look, burning hot.

“Take off my blouse.”

I did as she said and took off her blouse.

Then she said, “Take off my skirt.”

I slid down the zipper and let her skirt drop.

“Take off my shoes.”

Once again, I did as she commanded and slipped off her shoes.

“Now my hose. My bra. My panties.”

I flung each to the floor.

Face to face, the air between us crackling, our eyes locked.

She poked a sharp, red-taloned finger in my chest.

“I don’t ever want to catch you wearing my things again. Understood?”

Published 3 years ago

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