Becky and I were sitting on opposite sides of our kitchen table. Her attention was focused totally on her laptop, and mine on her face... and her boobs. They were pushing against her skimpy vest top. I could make out the outline of her bra, and I knew it was black as I'd watched her get dressed that morning. As she buried herself in her work, I couldn't stop looking at her. She was peering down, but a sixth sense told her...

It was Monday, and the keys for my chastity device were still lost in the post. That evening, Becky returned from a short visit to Willow after I'd reluctantly conceded that a milking was called for. She was carrying a plastic bag and wore a sly smile. I feared the worst! “Look what Willow's lent us, sweetheart,” she announced. She reached into the bag and pulled out what I immediately recognised to be a strapon with a ha...