ThursdayI didn’t get out of bed the next morning. I just lay there, ignoring my phone. I told my mom I was sick. She knew I was lying, but she understood. She brought me a breakfast of French toast, normally my favorite.I picked at it before rolling onto my side and hugging my pillow. My curtains were drawn shut, heavy drapes that blocked out the world. I vowed to never leave my room. A vow that lasted an hour before I had to pee.Then I vowed to never leave my room except to use the bathroom.As I lay there, my phone vibrating and chirping, the images of yesterday flowed through my mind. How Samantha claimed my pussy was hers. How she fucked me bent over the toilet while the futas watched me. Her girl-dick drilled into me, stirring up my cunt.My pussy grew hotter and hotter as I lay naked in my bed. Yes, I was still naked, still following the dumb Program. Who thought it was a good idea to encourage high school students to attend school naked for a week so they could “learn about their. Last thingbefore heading for the commuter train had always been a gentle kiss onher forehead in our bedroom and tea by her bedside table, her eyessleepy and soft. I reassuringly still brought the tea, but this time Iknocked before entering her room. Tea on a tray was gracefully placedon the bedside table reassuringly our wedding photo still there toremind me I was her husband, welI?I looked around ....of course, this was really my bed as well,wasn't itdear reader, our lovely king size bed ? And yes, looking around therewas the familiar large white closet surely still filled with mypristine designer Boss shirts and dark navy Italian suits. My broguesand loafers.A comforting thought that lockdown would soon be over and we would allgo back to our normal lives. Rachel to her accountancy firm and me tothe City, the whirlwind of lunches and banter and male self importance.The trappings of success and girls in their tight clingy skirts alwaysvying for my attention as they sauntered round.
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