She was letting out moans of pleasure and excitement. Mom let out a muffled scream when I tried to insert my finger into her asshole. I pushed my fing...er slowly inside her to the very end.She was writhing in pain. I removed my finger and moved to her side. With my right hand, I started rubbing and squeezing her tits. Suddenly, without warning, I inserted my left middle finger inside her asshole again. She gasped for breath.I started moving my finger back and forth furiously while squeezing her. I occasionally praised about her new aspects, gorgeous dress, which was brown wrap around full length skirt and matching top and about her sexy looks. She blushed a bit. We kept on chatting normally till I reached my home. Then, I made a cold Rooh-afjah for her. Then I showed her my house by putting my arms around her shoulder. Then we sat in drawing room talking about our old days. I showed her my old cards which I had written for her. After reading that I hugged her tightly with her boobs. “Abby you take the lasagna out of the oven so it can cool and then set the table. Micheal, open a bottle of Chianti for us. I'll prepare three bowls of salad.We went to work. While we worked I gathered my courage. As soon as we sat down to eat I blurted it out. It was the only way I could do it. “Last night, while Jeanne was entertaining her boyfriend, I wore a chastity cage.”There was a moment of shocked silence and then Jeanne exclaimed, “Michael?”Abby paused, a forkful of salad halfway. These are powerful and effective signals. Indeed, my wife failed to mention the regularity with which Tony and Greg would comment on as well as specifically order her to wear girdles. In fact, one thing Greg would often write on my wife's belly, just above her girdle, was: "Only whores and prostitutes wear girdles!" Then he would make her sign her name below the words, as if it were her own declaration (which, I suppose. unconsciously it was). It is a common entry in her diary.Perhaps it was.