The thong

Not wanting to draw too much attention by choosing the pair your wife might actually miss you ball the thong up in your fist and rush back upstairs to get ready for work.

After showering and drying you take a awkwardly squeeze yourself into the thong. They're tight and your balls spill out on each side of the triangle of material now hugging your cock. The string in back is snug between your butt cheeks and rubs against your anus. Your flesh spills out on each side of the string squishing your hips.

You feel ashamed by how ridiculous you look, but still, being to wear panties for a day is going to be relatively easy.

By time you get dressed and head downstairs you hear Melissa in the washroom preparing the load. That was a close one.

Feeling the thong riding in your ass crack and cleaving your balls you decide it’s probably best to just get to work instead of risking your wife or daughter noticing any uncomfortableness.

“Hun,” you call into the washroom, “I have an early meeting this morning, so I’m just going to grab something on the way in.”

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