Just spent the afternoon cleaning the house while wearing nothing but my spouse's oversized hoodie. The way the fabric brushes against my bare nipples with every movement keeps me constantly aroused, thinking about his hands on me later. I can still smell his scent from yesterday's workout embedded in the collar - that perfect mix of sweat, musk, and pure masculinity that makes my cunt ache with need.

Sometimes I wonder if other wives get this obsessed with their husband's smell, or if I'm just uniquely fucked up in the best way possible. The thought of another woman even catching a whiff of him makes my blood boil. This scent is mine to worship, mine to get high on, mine to fucking drown in. Anyone tries to steal even a molecule of his essence from me will learn why they shouldn't touch what belongs to another woman.