I think about it every day. A life spent at home, dedicated to my husband. I would feel so beautiful, my womanly body wrapped so sensually in a fine linen dress, my long, lustrous hair falling about my shoulders or in a ponytail trailing down my back. My breasts, so full and so often swollen with milk, straining against the bodice of my dress, whilst its skirt billowed about my creamy thighs and curvaceous hips, perhaps revealing the delicate lace of my silken panties, stretched against my big butt and my moistening womanhood. I am always so aroused at the thought of being a housewife. I am always yearning for it.