Our bedroom is small, we have a king-sized bed, a tv and thick blackout curtains. It might be sexier if it were a palatial suite with bouquets of flowers and satin sheets, but I'm not rich. The previous owners of the house (before we rented it) installed a sliding wardrobe that takes up one full side of the room. The front of the wardrobe is mirrored. When my wife and I make love, I like to watch her body moving with mine. My wife has the most incredible body, she is the classic Rubenesque shape of total femininity - round full breasts with that slight droop that only nature can craft. A full and touchable stomach and curvy shapely legs. And her skin, wow, her skin is majestic - smooth, olive. I am obsessed with her, she's my world.
Ann, her name is Ann. She is about five foot five, brunette and full-figured. We met online, back before meeting online was really a thing. We have been married for more than two decades. I am still in awe of her, and every now and then she still finds a way to surprise me. I tell her that I would do anything for her, and I want to do anything for her. I like her to push my boundaries, to make me prove myself - because I just want her to know that she is the queen of my soul. Sometimes. We have been married for two decades and even I can't sustain constant wonderment. For the most part we're a normal boring couple with the usual mixture of highs and lows, frustrations and delights. This is a story about how a frustration led to a delight.
I refuse to take shopping lists when I go for groceries. Even when I do take them, I tend to leave them in my pocket. I'm very forgetful, it's a problem. On a particular Saturday, I got back from dropping our kids off at their various clubs and friends' houses and unpacked the car.
"Tell me you remembered toilet paper."
I was fumbling to put the food in the fridge, I was planning to make a cooked brunch. Ann had come downstairs and was standing in the archway that separated the kitchen from the dining room. Her dark eyebrows knitted together, her full lips pressed together. Her right hand rested on her hip. A slim sliver of skin showed between her white flowery blouse and her dark blue jeans, like a glimmer of sunlight bursting through the clouds to illuminate a summer field.
I stood frozen between desire and defensiveness. I had remembered the toilet paper, hadn't I?
"What was the last thing I said to you before you went out?"
Ann's eyes met mine with a focussed intensity that my light Saturday mood left me entirely unready to deal with. I looked down and blinked. She was right, I had forgotten to pick it up.
"Shit, I'll go get it."
Ann didn't look impressed. She sighed, she was pissed off. So pissed off.
"I'll just go back to the shop."
Ann walked into the kitchen. She began picking up food items and shoving them in the cupboard.
"I'll do that, then I'll go get it."
Ann snatched something from the cupboard and turned on her heels.
She stopped in the archway and turned her head back. Her stern eyes fixed me through cascading rings of curls.
"Don't, just get this put away."
As I carefully put the rest of the food away I heard Ann's footsteps on the stairs and one of the upstairs doors slam.
With a deep sigh, I finished putting the rest of the food in the cupboards. I put the ingredients I had set aside for lunch: bacon, cheese, puff pastry and tomato in a neat pile in the fridge. Then trudged my way upstairs to clear the air.
"Lawrence."
Ann's voice was muffled behind the closed bathroom door. She still sounded angry.
"I'm right here."
"Come in, I want to show you something."
I slowly turned the handle and opened the door. Ann was sitting on the toilet, bare legs pressed together.
"What is it?"
Ann pointed to the empty toilet roll holder. She reached her pointed finger, still outstretched, and pressed the flush.
"If you can't listen to me, you're going to have to help me."
I wasn't sure what she meant.
"Do you want me to get a flannel?"
Ann shook her head, her misty blue eyes smouldered.
"You caused this, you'll have to fix it."
I stared at her blankly. Her eyes didn't shift from mine. Ann stood up. Her jeans lay at her ankles, she placed her left hand against the wall and swung her body round. With both palms pressed against the wall she pushed her ass out.
The white blouse hung just covering her skin, the curve of her cheeks visible below it. Her eyes stayed fixed on me the whole time.
"Get on your knees, and take care of your mistake."
I stuttered. I wasn't quite sure what Ann was asking, but there she was her bare legs curving up to the pert crescents that peeked out beneath the flowered blouse. I suspected, and I felt a rush of blood away from the head that thinks.
"Do you want me to wet a towel?"
Ann stared blankly at me. She answered in stern measured syllables..
"Don't ruin my towels, kneel down and take care of it."
I hesitated, just for a second. Ann's tone suddenly shifted.
"Knees!"
She pointed down, as if I were a dog at her command and I felt a surge of shame. I knelt down, not because I wanted to be spoken to like that, but because I liked it.
I knelt down before her ass.
I began to kiss the backs of her thighs. I could feel her press herself towards my face. I ran my hands up her legs and on to her firm buttocks. I spread them apart.
I stopped. The sight of slick brown mess was worse than I was expecting.
I felt a hand grab my hair and pull me in.
"Lick it clean."
I held my breath and stretched out my tongue, horrified that I was allowing myself to do it, but so hard that my dick was causing me pain.
I couldn't believe how good it tasted, nutty and chocolatey. I thrust my tongue in deep, hungrily lapping. Ann was still holding my hair. I licked it until every last speck was clean. Then I stared at the slick bud of her anus and pressed into it pushing my tongue as deep as it could reach.
"That's enough stud."
I looked up. Ann turned around and cradled my head between her palms.
"I think I'm clean now."
My eyes darted hungrily into her crotch. Then back up to her smiling face: Damp with weakness and longing. My cock so hard it hurt.
Ann reached down and pulled up her jeans.
"Can we please?"
The words came out high pitched and needy, I was embarrassed by them.
"No, clean your face and let's go out."
I turned to the wash basin and saw the jar next to the sink. It was Nutella, thank God it was only Nutella.
I turned and Ann was still smiling, self-satisfied but charming.
"Next time, I won't go so easy on you."
I cleaned up and we went out. By the time we were done, the kids were back and I was left with the memory of what had happened.
I wasn't quite ready to admit how hot I found it. But biology kept pestering me. Over the next two weeks I sprayed my load thinking about it five or six times but it didn't scratch the itch.
One night we were watching TV. Ann sometimes lies on the bed with her ass sticking up. Ann was watching some documentary on Bigfoot, I was bored.
My palm was rubbing her firm butt, I ran my thumb along the black frill of her underwear, feeling the contrast of textures between the rough of the cotton and the satin smooth of her skin.
I slid my hand under the fabric and let my fingers glide up and down the curve of her cheek. It took me a few seconds but I plucked up the courage.
"I was thinking about that time, you know, with the Nutella."
Ann continued to watch her show, but she pressed her ass slightly back against my touch.
"I didn't think I'd like it, but now I can't stop thinking about it."
Ann flicked her head back and caught my gaze.
"You mean the time I made you lick the shit off my ass?"
I nodded.
"You would like that. God, if the people you work with knew how disgusting you are. I don't get it. Why do you like to be degraded so much?"
I shrugged.
"It's just hot."
Ann smiled.
"Keep rubbing my ass."
I kept rubbing her ass.
"Do you think we could, maybe, do it again?"
Ann flicked her head back to the tv.
"I don't know. It's pretty messy, I'll think about it."
Days passed, that Friday we made love. Nothing unusual, just my hands touching each curve - feeling the softness of her body as I pressed deeper and deeper inside her. We came together and fell asleep in each other's arms.
I didn't press for more Nutella, because I thought any pressure might end my chances forever.
The following Friday, I had made dinner and the kids were all asleep. There wasn't much on TV and we had settled on reruns of Father Ted. Ann went to the bathroom. I was getting tired.
When Ann came back, she lay on the bed - her knees bent, beautiful ass in the air. Her nightgown showing off her black underwear.
"Are you tired?"
I was exhausted.
"Not really."
"Take off my panties. Slowly."
I reached forward and slid Ann's panties. Kissing the cheek as I did.
"I got you a present."
I looked at Ann's ass. It was filled with a brown material. I couldn't tell what it was, but it wasn't Nutella.
"You wanted another try, right? Try this."
I looked at the substance, it was thicker and lighter. There was a bumpy texture to it. And streaks of a darker brown.
"Don't get any on the bed."
I gingerly pressed my tongue out and into the mess. I was hit immediately by the taste, rich, savoury and sweet. A solid object entered my mouth. I crushed it between my teeth and broken fragments of peanut filled my mouth.
It was all over her, a blend of marmite, Nutella and crunchy nut peanut butter.
I looked at our reflection in the mirror, her full ass pressed in the air. My palms resting on both cheeks. I took a second to burn the image into my mind.
Then, I devoured it.
I licked and licked until every drop was gone. Sliding my tongue up and down the crack of her ass, then forcing my tongue inside her anus and circling to make sure not a drop of it was left.
I checked my face in the mirror, and rubbed my finger to catch a drop that had stuck to my cheek. Ann was up on the bed and facing me.
"On your back."
I lay on my back. Ann pulled off my boxer shorts and looked down at my erection.
"My, somebody likes eating shit. Don't you?"
I nodded. Ann threw her leg over me.
"You know why you like eating shit, don't you? It's because you are shit."
I nodded.