The following is a continuation of Anniversaries Are Special and Anniversaries Are Special for Husbands Too.
Sean and I have been married for twenty years now. It’s funny! No one thought it would work with our age difference. What do they know? What does anyone know? I mean the average marriage only lasts eight years, so the average person would be working on their third marriage by now. We’ve obviously found something that works. That something is an emotional connection that we happened to have found very early in our relationship. It’s not about sex; it just happens that sex was the vehicle that led us to that discovery. We trust each other completely. We love each other unconditionally. That’s what love and marriage is all about. Focus on a number and you’ll end up as just another statistic.
After our wonderfully perverted wedding night, Sean and I went straight to the hotel manager and booked the hotel every year for our anniversary. We still have to call to book and pay for the room, but he agreed to let us have dibs on it if we call before the first of the year. I mean it was Mardi Gras on our wedding night, but Fat Tuesday varies every year, anywhere from February 3rd to March 9th. Having someone agree to rent a room for two weeks every year, often outside of the Festival season, was quite a deal for him. Regardless, our experiences have been well worth the cost.
We weren’t the only ones that booked a room every year. Our anonymous lover did as well. At least that’s how it went for the first two years. I got a call from the hotel manager in January, right before our third anniversary, telling me our friend would not be joining us. It turns out he had gotten engaged and decided to end our relationship. I can’t blame him. I mean it has to be hard to tell your new wife, “Hey Sweetie, I take a week’s vacation every February to go down to New Orleans and have wild sex with this couple I met years ago, before we ever met. Would you like to join me, or do you want me to go by myself?” Yeah, it’s probably better to stay away from that.
Still, I was disappointed. We had so much fun. I will always treasure our wedding night, as well as the two anniversaries after that. The sex was so raw, so unbridled. We never did exchange names; it was kind of our unspoken agreement. That’s part of what made the sex wonderful.
I was bummed out that entire week. It was supposed to be that one day out of the year that we shed our inhibitions and just went wild. Now that one special person that made our anniversary unique was no more. I knew the chances of someone seeing Sean and I on the balcony, calling us, and getting a repeat of our wedding night were astronomically low. That’s why I decided to take matters into my own hands.
Back then, personal ads were everywhere, even Hotmail had personal ads, and I posted them everywhere I could find. For the next couple of weeks I sifted through the responses until I found the perfect person. We exchanged pictures, even talked to each other over the phone several times arranging everything. I knew plotting it was going to take a little something away for me, but the thrill it was going to give Sean was worth that tiny sacrifice. Of course he didn’t know anything.
I felt a little mischievous going around his back to set up a sexual rendezvous like that, but I figured it really wasn’t any different than throwing him a surprise party or getting him a Christmas present. He expected sex with our anonymous stranger, so what if it was a different anonymous stranger? Besides, although the three years we had with our stranger was certainly unforgettable (if you happen to be reading this, please know we have always treasured our times with you), it was time for a change. Let’s face it! What keeps the sex in a relationship exciting year after year is variety. It was time to explore a little more, to broaden our horizons.
We arrived in New Orleans a few days before our anniversary. Since Fat Tuesday fell just about a week after, that gave us time to enjoy New Orleans and each other without the huge crowd and then stay for another week of unadulterated debauchery that is N’awlins. It also gave me a few days to put the final touches on my plan.
Sean was still expecting another wild passionate night with our sexy, blue-eyed lover. I really couldn’t conceal all my excitement from him; he knew right away something was up. That was easy to explain away though. I had borrowed every camcorder I could from friends and relatives, as well as tripods. Sean simply thought my excitement was stemming from the idea to videotape our encounter this time. Really, I had to let him in on that secret. I mean how do you borrow six camcorders without your spouse suspecting anything?
Well, I did convince him to meet me downstairs in the hotel bar. That gave me a little time to set up the room. It also gave me time to unpack a very special suitcase that Sean knew nothing about. I worked as quickly as I could, but it still took me nearly an hour to get the room just right. Despite all the planning and knowing exactly what I wanted, it’s just really hard to execute when my heart and mind are racing with excitement.
Once the room was set up, I put the suitcase back in the closet and went to the bathroom to get ready. I’ve never been one for makeup, just a little foundation, lipstick, eye shadow, and mascara, so that didn’t take long. I slid on a pair of black thigh high stockings over my freshly waxed legs before slipping on a matching black lace bustier and thong panties. I topped that off with my favorite little black dress, which came down to just below my butt. Finally, I threw on a pair of black three inch heels before rushing out to meet him downstairs.
Sean tried his best that night to give me a romantic evening out on the town. After all, it was our anniversary. After wining and dining at the oyster house, we spent a couple of hours dancing before strolling through the French Quarter. Still, both of us just wanted to head back to the hotel eager to start the true celebration of our love. As we got on the elevator to head back to our room, I could feel the excitement. My heart was racing. My palms were dripping. It was like I had just gotten off the dance floor, with one exception—another part of me was dripping as well.
The expression on Sean’s face when he entered the room itself was worth all the effort I had put into that night. The bed was turned down with the petals of a dozen roses sprinkled across the sheets. The room lights were dimmed, with the glow of fifty candles, all spread throughout the room, illuminating his adorable smile. I even had those same CD’s from our wedding night playing in the background, generating an ambience of pure romance. While I stepped out onto the balcony, Sean poured us each a glass of champagne that had been chilling.
Sean came up behind me wrapping his arm around me to hand me my glass, his lips nibbling my neck. He has always had a way of making my knees buckle when he kisses me there, and it was all I could do to avoid spilling my drink all over myself. I could feel his sinister grin against my face. He knew exactly what he was doing and loved having that effect on me.
After I took a sip, he raised one of the chocolate-covered strawberries I had laid out to my lips. Looking into his eyes, I circled it with my tongue suggestively, tasting the sweet chocolate coating before taking it into my mouth and biting off the tip. Then took the rest and fed it to him, letting the juice dribble down his stubbly chin for me to lick off. That’s one of the wonderful qualities of an older man—they understand the power of seduction.
We sat out there together for nearly a half an hour, just sipping champagne and feeding each other, feeding on each other’s love. Then I caught Sean looking at his watch, looking across the courtyard at the window that had always been our lover’s room.
“He’s not here, baby. I didn’t know how to tell you. Apparently, he has found his own special someone.”
“Well, I guess all good things must come to an end. I figured this day would come.” I could see the disappointment in his eyes as he spoke. “Sharing you on our anniversary was more than just a tradition. It’s hard to explain. It’s like it highlighted just how unique and special our love is. It made me love you more.”
Sean has always been a romantic. He’s the type of man that comes home with flowers just because, and not just every blue moon. Still, he’s never been one for words. So it was quite the shock to hear him express himself so beautifully, telling me exactly how he felt. I always knew how he felt, but hearing it from his lips just meant the world to me.
I took his hands in mine, gazing deep into his loving eyes as I answered him, trying my best to match his eloquence. “Anniversaries are meant to celebrate our love. They’re meant to be special. Our love is there every day of the year; it’s just that on this one day each year, we push all our other priorities aside and focus on showing how much we love each other. If we did the same thing every year, how special would that be? What made our wedding night special was that we let go of our inhibitions and explored our fantasies together. It’s time to move on. It’s time to find a new way to celebrate, to continue exploring together and expanding the boundaries of our love. We will always have the memories of him, but it’s time to make new ones.”
“You always have such a beautiful way of looking at things,” he told me.
“I always have such a wonderful inspiration.” With that, I took his hand and led him back to the room to the chair beside the bed. I reached up to the back of his head with my left hand, pulling his lips down to mine. He towers over me, which with anyone else would make me feel vulnerable. But I know my husband, and I know the power of our love. It is with that power that I took control. I didn’t have to say a word. That message was clearly conveyed by the way I pulled him down to me, by the way I kissed him, and by the way I ripped the buttons from his shirt one by one.
With his shirt off, I pushed him back into the chair and knelt down between his legs. I’ve always loved that position. Most people would consider it a submissive position, kneeling in front of your lover. I submit to you that positions are neither dominant nor submissive, that comes from attitude. Looking up into Sean’s eyes, I grabbed his wrist and placed them on the armrests. I didn’t have to say a word; he knew they were to stay there.
I then continued to undress him. I first took off his shoes and socks, taking a moment to massage his feet. I even took his toes into my mouth, feeling the ridges of his toe print against my rough tongue before gently biting down. My hands massaged his thighs through his slacks as I kissed my way up between his legs. I continued to stare into his eyes as I unbuckled his belt and slid his slacks off. His hands remained on the armrests as he lifted his ass to help me undress him. Like I said, he knew who was in control.
Looking up into his eyes, I kissed his cock through his briefs. He was already hard; he had been that way most of the night, and I intended for him to stay that way. Gently, I kissed my way upward, to his belly button. The heat and musk from his cock was nearly overwhelming. I so love my husband, so love pleasuring him, tasting him, that it took every ounce of my willpower to avoid ripping his underwear off and attacking his mouthwatering cock. Instead, I diverted my lust to his navel.
You see, Sean is extremely ticklish, although he tries to deny it. Using my fingers doesn’t generally make him squirm; my tongue, on the other hand, is a different story. I love to explore my lovers’ bodies with my mouth, kissing and licking every single inch as I gauge their response, memorizing the spots that bring them the most pleasure. I quickly found all of Sean’s sensitive parts, the parts that make him moan in pleasure, as well as the ones that make him writhe with that erotically confusing sensation that makes him both desire more and want to pull away at the same time. For me, those points are my neck and ears. For Sean, it’s the back of his knees and his tummy.
Sean frequently comes up behind me to try to get to my neck. I love it, but the second he does it, my shoulder instantly shrugs, my neck cocks and contorts, and my knees buckle, all in an effort to protect that sensitive spot. It’s a knee jerk reaction. So I knew exactly what I was putting him through when I began to swab his stomach with my tongue. His legs kicked. He sucked in his gut. He wiggled and fidgeted in the chair like a small child having to pee. But his hands remained on the rests, obediently. That told me I had him, that he was mine.
After torturing his stomach for what I’m sure to him was an eternity, I nibbled and kissed my way down the front of his briefs, feeling his hard cock against my lips. While his hands stayed put, his hips pushed up against me, begging me to stop the tease that was driving him to madness. I did no such thing. I knew he wanted me to slide his briefs off and take him into my mouth. Hell, I wanted to do the same thing. I’ve already told you how much I love sucking cock. But as much as I wanted to taste him, Sean wanted me to taste him more. That’s why I left them on. And rather than sucking him, I bit him, perhaps a little out of frustration. Oh, it wasn’t anything painful, just enough force to get his attention through the thick cotton.
With that, I stood up, looking down on him. “Stay,” I commanded, as if he were nothing more than a dog. I could feel his eyes burning into my ass as I turned around and headed for the closet. I pulled out my secret suitcase and set it down on the desk facing away from him. I chuckled to myself as I watched him crane his neck, trying to get a glimpse inside it. He had seen that suitcase a hundred times, loading it into the car, dragging it through the airport, even pulling it through the hotel foyer, but never once questioned its contents. Now it was only a few feet away, and he would have given his left testicle to know what was in it.
Sean had already relinquished control. I knew he would voluntarily obey my every command. Still, he had the option; it was his choice whether or not to obey. So in essence, he was still in control. That was about to change. He knew too when he saw the handcuffs emerge from the suitcase, and not just one pair, but two. I was no longer smiling at him when I secured his wrists to the rests, clasping the cuff around each wrist before wrapping it around the chair arms and locking them back to the same wrist. He wasn’t either; but he was definitely hard, and the wet spot in front of his briefs was growing exponentially.
With his hands secured, I strutted over to the CD changer and changed the music. I had a friend make a very special CD for me, just for this night. Like I said, every detail was meticulously conspired. After I hit the play button, I heard the soft twang bellow out of the speakers.
“I’ve been really tryin’ baby. Tryin’ to hold back this feeling for so long.” I let Marvin Gaye do the singing, lip syncing every delicious word as I sashayed toward him. “And if you feel, like I feel baby, come on, oh, come on, whoo, let’s get it on.”
I circled around the foot of the bed, rotating my hips in slow, sensual figure eights. “Let’s love, baby. Let’s get it on, sugar. Let’s get it on. Whoo--ooo. We’re all just sensitive people with so much to give. Understand me baby, since we got to be, let’s live. I love you.”
I leant down licking my way up his chest, up his neck, before biting down softly on his chin. “There’s nothing wrong with me lovin’ you baby, no, no. And givin’ yourself to me can never be wrong…..if the love is true. Oh, babe, wooo---ooo. Don’t you know how sweet and wonderful life can be? Whoo-ooo. I’m askin’ you, baby, to get it on with me. Ooh, ooh, ooh.”
The words may have been coming from Marvin, but the message was unmistakably mine. Slowly, I leaned in, mouth agape, my tongue snaking along my lips, my finger lifting his chin. I felt his tongue reach out, touching mine before I pulled back. “I ain’t gonna worry, I ain’t gonna push—won’t push you, baby.” But push him is exactly what I did. I pushed his head back against the wall behind the chair as I shook my head to let him know how naughty he was.
Turning around, I bent over, pushing my ass up to his face. It wasn’t so close that he could touch me, just close enough that he could feel my heat, that he could smell my lust for him. “So come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, baby. Stop beatin’ ‘round the bush.” I had to smile as Marvin sang that line, knowing I had no bush to beat around.
As Marvin continued, I slithered back in to Sean’s lap, facing away from him as I ground down into him. Leaning back, I pushed the zipper pull of my dress into his mouth. As he clamped down, I stood, pulling it down my back. “You know what I’m talkin’ ‘bout. Come on, baby, hey, hey. Let your love come out.”
I slipped my little black dress over my head as that sexy voice echoed in my ear. But as I felt the soft fabric leisurely slide up and over my ass cheeks, the sound that stood out the most, that I can still hear in my head when I close my eyes at night and reminisce about that night, was the faint gasp that escaped Sean’s lips. It was as if he had never seen my ass before. It is such a wonderful feeling, knowing I can still turn him on like that.
To reward him, I once again pushed my ass back into his face; only this time there was no fabric between us—well, except my thong. I rubbed the crack of my ass against the stubble of his chin, daring him to kiss me, to lick me. This time he behaved himself. I know how hard it must have been for him. Hell, as proud as I was of him for maintaining his discipline, I really wanted to feel his tongue on me. Does that make me a bad mistress—wanting him to disobey?
Marvin eventually faded away. As the ringing guitars of Bad Company filled the room, I straddled my husband, this time facing him as I lowered myself to his lap. “Baby, when I think about you, I think about loooovvveee,” I softly sang into his ear, my heaving breast against his bare chest, my nipples trying to pierce through my bustier to touch his naked flesh. Throughout the entire song, I continued weaving my web of seduction. Lustfully, I stared into his eyes with each and every “Feel like makin’ love,” grinding into him in time to the music, feeling his hard shaft in the crack of my ass.
I had to smile to myself when I lifted myself off his lap, as the stickiness from his excitement tried to hold me in place. “I love you sooo much,” I mouthed to him as I lay back on the bed. I’m sure he didn’t recognize the next song until she began to sing; he certainly wouldn’t have been able to tell you who sang it. I bet he knows now. I’m sure every time he hears that song he thinks back to me laying in that hotel bed, masturbating. I was no longer singing, focusing every ounce of energy on doing exactly what the Divinyls were singing about. My message was undeniable, “When I think about you I touch myself.”
My hand glided over my bustier, my fingertips brushing over my hardened nipples. They were so hard, even the light touch felt like tiny needles piercing them. My other hand slid under the fabric, my fingernails tracing sensuous trails up and down my sensitive tummy. I made little circles around my navel, feeling the muscles contract, retracting from my own touch. Continuing upward, I cupped my breast, massaging it, before dragging my fingernails across the sensitive nipple. I found the contrasting sensations so appealing, one hand touching my bare flesh directly, the other through the lacy fabric of my bustier.
I was so absorbed in myself that I had almost forgotten about Sean. I opened my eyes to look at him, having to bite my lip when I saw his sexy face. First, I gazed into his eyes, which were obviously trying to undress me. I continued down to his muscular chest, heaving from his excitement. His hairy belly was still wet from my previous tongue bath. Then I took in the tent erected in the briefs restraining him. I could clearly see the outline of his magnificent cock, the one I loved to feel inside me, anywhere so long as it was inside me. His excitement had soaked through his cotton briefs, and I found my tongue tickling the roof of my mouth as I imagined licking the sensitive head.
As my left leg bent, opening myself to his gaze, my heel slipped along the bed sheet. With my left hand still nestled under my bustier, caressing my breast, my right hand slipped down between my legs, gently stroking my slit through the thin fabric of my sopping panties. I worked my fingernail up and down, barely touching, the lace amplifying those delectable sensations. The human body is so remarkable in this way—the lighter the stimulus, the more intense the response.
With my legs gradually spreading wider and wider, exposing myself more and more to Sean’s lustful eyes, I slipped my finger under the elastic leg band, biting my lip to keep from whimpering. I pressed my palm firmly into my mons, my finger gliding against my clit as I pushed it inside, imagining my lover entering me. My wetness engulfed my finger, pulling it in invitingly. As I pulled out, I let my finger slide against my engorged clit, coating it in my own passion before driving it back deep inside.
I opened my eyes, gazing lustfully into Sean’s eyes. Slowly, I raised my finger to my lips, encircling it with my tongue before sucking it into my mouth. I love tasting myself. I do it even when I masturbate alone, but doing it with Sean watching always gives me an added thrill.
Once again, my hand trailed down my body, this time slipping under my panties from above. No longer interested in teasing myself, I pushed my middle three fingers deep inside, pulling upward to caress my G-spot. I started slowly, caressing it gently as it became more and more sensitive, the delightful sensations washing over me. As I gradually increased the pace and intensity, my legs spread wider and wider until my feet were off the bed, my knees nearly touching my breasts. It made me feel so perfectly exposed, yet I knew my panties concealed everything from my husband’s licentious eyes, teasing him relentlessly while allowing me to indulge myself.
Soon I felt my orgasm barreling down on me like a freight train. My entire body convulsed, my upper body shaking uncontrollably as my hips extended, my toes curled in pleasure. As the fingers of my right hand curled up into my G-spot, I pinched my nipple with my left, the two connected by this heavenly current of sexual electricity flowing between them. My feet were now firmly embedded into the mattress, my legs clasped tightly together. As my hips bucked upward against my hand, my fingers continued their assault, fucking in and out of me as they massaged that magical spot. “Oh fuck me,” I moaned to no one in particular, imagining my lover fucking me through my orgasm.
My fingers were soaking when I finally pulled them free. Slowly and gently, I continued to circle my clit, reveling in the aftershocks. Once the sensitivity was gone, I leaned back and quickened the pace. It only took me a few seconds to cum again, and as usual, it was even stronger than the first. This time, I didn’t even slow down, I just continued to rub myself to one delightful orgasm after another until I finally collapsed, totally satiated and relaxed. I opened my eyes and saw my gorgeous husband, who because of me was anything but satiated, or relaxed.
Smiling, I stood up in front of him. “I hope that was as good for you as it was for me,” I said, leaning down to kiss him on the cheek.
“Tease,” he hissed.
I could feel the evil in my lips as they tightened and tucked back against my teeth into a sinister grin. I loved torturing him, but I knew he loved it even more. He should. I knew what was in store; he didn’t. I wanted him entirely in the dark.
Once again, I reached into my suitcase, this time pulling out a silk blindfold. On the surface, this little piece of fabric seems so innocuous. It’s so smooth, soft, and delicate. Yet in the right hands, as Sean would soon discover, it can be so powerful. With it, I covered his eyes, confiscating his sight. This simple maneuver produced two significant effects. First, it made him feel weaker, vulnerable, further emphasizing my power over him. Second, it made him more reliant on his other senses, accentuating his sense of touch, of hearing, of taste, and of smell.
Next, I reached into the suitcase and pulled out a pair of safety shears, the kind EMT’s use to cut clothing off of patients, but he didn’t know that. The blades have blunt ends and a safety guard prevents you from cutting skin. I snapped the blades shut several times before running the cold steel of the closed blades up his thighs. With my hand under the blades, I snipped my way upward, through his cotton briefs from the leg hole to the waistband. With another few snips across the crotch, I exposed his cock, glistening with lust. I knew he trusted me—scaring him was not my intent. This was about authority--supremacy, and cutting his underwear off sends a much more powerful message than simply sliding them off. Don’t you agree?
I put the shears away, grabbing my next surprise. Kneeling back between his legs, I licked gently at his balls, and then slowly worked my tongue upward along his undershaft. I heard him inhale deeply, filling his lungs as he prepared for me to take him into my mouth.
Normally I would. Instead, he remained there, tensed, waiting patiently at first. Every few seconds I flicked my tongue across the tip, building the suspense. Then the look of confusion began to set in, not in his eyes—those were covered, but in his mouth. When that bottom lip stopped quivering with anticipation and relaxed into bewilderment, I knew I had him right where I wanted him.
“Lift up,” I commanded.
As Sean raised his butt off the chair, I pulled his underwear from under him. When I was done, he held the position for a few seconds before lowering his naked ass to the chair.
“Did I tell you that you could relax?” I asked sternly.
“No mistress. Forgive me,” he replied sincerely before lifting himself once again.
His blindfold gave me carte blanche to smile, enjoying my reign over him. I had thought about dominating him before, but never really done so—not like this. I guess I was just always a little too nervous to try it; I just needed that little nudge. Making this anniversary special was just the incentive I needed, and I loved it. It felt so wonderful to have that much control over him, to know that he trusted me that much.
“Hold it,” I paused, “hold yourself up there until I tell you otherwise.”
It really wasn’t a fair demand and I knew it. His wrists tethered to the armrests and with his knees still bent almost 90 degrees, forced his bent arms to awkwardly support most of his weight. They were shaking within seconds and he collapsed soon after, his ass impaled by the butt plug I had carefully placed under him. At least I was nice enough to lube it up.
“Fuck!” He cried out, trying to stifle his moan as the toy speared him.
It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to it, only that it was unexpected. As his cockhead swelled, tattling on his true sentiments, I licked my way up his shaft. Taking the mushroom tip into my mouth, I cleaned it of the tasty droplets of precum that coated it, sucking it, trying desperately to pull out anything it held inside. Teasingly, I encircled it with my tongue before sliding a cock ring down his shaft, trapping the blood within.
“I don’t want you cumming so fast this time. Understand?” It was framed as a question, but he knew it was an order. He knew even better when he felt another ring being securely fastened around his testicles.
“Yes, mistress,” he nodded. He had never called me mistress before. Actually, I had always considered myself rather submissive, although not in the traditional slave way. Still, as I heard that word echo from his lips, I felt the little hairs on my arms stand on end, tingling. It was as if they were trying to shake me, to wake up the inner mistress inside me. I stood, feeling the wetness dripping down my inner thigh.
Casually, I walked over to the desk and poured myself a glass of champagne. Grabbing a couple of chocolate-covered strawberries, I then walked out onto the balcony, leaving Sean sitting alone, wondering what, if anything, was next. The ripples on the pool were so peaceful. I just sat there on the little patio chair, calmly nibbling the strawberries and sipping my champagne. I smiled as I turned to watch Sean fidgeting in the chair, knowing the blind wait was torture for him.
About twenty minutes later, I strolled back into the room. Picking up the telephone, I dialed. I held the receiver against my ear as I sauntered over to Sean.
“Hello, Sweetheart. Miss me?” I whispered seductively into the phone, just loud enough for Sean to hear. I could almost hear the wheels spinning in his head as he mulled over all the possibilities. Was our blue-eyed lover here after all? Had all that talk about him finding his own special someone all been a ruse? Had I found someone else? Or perhaps it’s all just a game and there’s no one at all on the other end? Yes, my plan was working perfectly.
“No, he’s a little tied up right now.” I surprised myself at how evil my laugh sounded. “Oh, I don’t think he’d mind that at all. So when should I expect you?” Little beads of sweat decorated my husband’s forehead and upper lip. “Mmmmm, I can’t wait.” I moaned as my fingernails raked across Sean’s chest.
“Becky?” he called hesitantly when he heard me hang up the phone. I could hear the anxiety in his voice. I knew he trusted me; it was merely fear of the unknown that distressed him.
“Yes, my love?”
“I love you,” he said. A faint smile of reassurance spread across his lips.
Kneeling beside him, I kissed his cheek. “I have someone coming over. I expect you to be on your best behavior.”
“Yes, my love,” he answered. He didn’t call me mistress that time. Isn’t it funny how so much can be conveyed in a simple word?
(To be continued……)
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with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
<a href="https://www.lushstories.com/stories/wife-lovers/the-leather-anniversarypart-1.aspx">The Leather Anniversary—Part 1</a>