I follow directions and get to work

She sauntered out the door with my clothes, leaving me staring after her, dazed and speechless. I reached up to wipe my mouth. The semen taste wasn't unpleasant.

I got up and looked out the window. The party was in full swing now. There was a long table set up with appetizers and wine. Jack was standing there, drinking from a red plastic cup. He was a big guy, at least six foot, broad-shouldered, with dark hair and a short beard. He looked like a nice enough guy. I felt a twinge of guilt at the thought of what his wife had just made me do, what she had planned for me to do next. But the guilt quickly faded, replaced by the thrill of being caught. I could still taste her finger on my tongue. She had given me the most intense orgasm I'd had in years, and all I had to do was masturbate while she watched.

I padded barefoot across the hardwood floor to the adjoining bathroom. After using a washcloth to clean, I looked in the mirror and dried myself off. There was a folded hand towel on the counter. I picked it up and wrapped it around my waist. It smelled like Chloe—subtle perfume, lavender body lotion, and something else, something uniquely her.

I opened the vanity drawer where she'd gotten the thong. I could see a whole drawer full of lingerie. There were push-up bras, lacy panties, garter belts, and more. “Nice lingerie selection,” I murmured to myself as I picked up the yellow silk thong and held it up to my waist. It looked impossibly small. How could I possibly fit my junk into this thing? I had **** but to try, so I carefully maneuvered myself into it, pulling it up my legs and over my hips.

The thong felt incredibly tight and a bit uncomfortable, but also oddly erotic. It was a strange feeling, being dressed in women's underwear. I examined myself in the mirror and had to admit, the effect was striking. The thin strip of fabric cut into my ass crack, the flimsy backside stretched tight over my buttocks. The front was even more revealing, the sheer material straining to contain my semi-hard cock and balls. I adjusted myself, pulling the thong up between my buttocks to maximize coverage. My cock began to stiffen as I admired the reflection of my transformed body. The realization of what I was wearing sent blood rushing to my groin.

I left the bathroom and crossed to the window. The partygoers were still engrossed in their conversations. Jack was now standing near the grill, manning the barbecue. No one was looking toward the house. I moved to the bed and turned my attention to hanging the curtains. Chloe had left me a drill, a screwdriver, and some screws on the nightstand. There were also two pre-hung curtains waiting to be installed. The task was relatively simple, but I found myself distracted by the way the thong kept riding up between my buttocks as I reached and stretched. Each movement sent a jolt of stimulation through my cock, which was now fully hard and straining against the flimsy fabric. I had to adjust myself frequently, pulling the thong back into place as it twisted and shifted.

As I worked, I kept glancing out the window, scanning the backyard for Chloe. She was still out there, moving between guests, smiling and laughing. Occasionally, she would glance up at the window where I stood. Even from a distance, I could see the knowing smirk playing across her lips. She would mouth the word "curtains" before turning away, as if checking on my progress. Each time she looked up, my heart raced and my cock throbbed. I couldn't believe this was happening—couldn't believe I was hanging curtains in a married woman's bedroom, wearing nothing but a thong she'd made me put on. It was insanely exciting.

I worked quickly, the task almost complete when I heard the back door open and close downstairs. Light footsteps ascended the stairs. I froze, my body tensing as I realized someone was coming up.