Anniversary 19

It seemed nothing was going right lately.

Our fifth anniversary was approaching but our schedules were crazy, the kids demanded constant attention and when the day finally came no restaurant in town could seat us. The topper came when Sharon, who had been battling a bad case of the sniffles all week, lost her battle with the bug and wanted nothing more than to crawl under the comforters and hopefully sleep it off.

Sharon felt really bad about 'ruining' our special night, as she liked to call it, but simply didn't have the strength to do anything. I tried my best to comfort her, telling her it wasn't her fault, that we'd just had a run of really abysmal luck, but I have to admit that I was deeply disappointed and I knew she was too. We'd managed to get my bachelor brother to entertain the kids - a miracle to find him home on the weekend - and my visions of a romantic dinner and maybe a movie or show, and possibly even some anniversary sex flew out the window. I felt like a real shit, but I was really looking forward to some crazy, uninhibited sex, the kind we used to have at a moment's notice before we became parents, took on a mortgage and let a myriad of worries and responsibilities, big and small, wear us down. The thought of spending a beautiful late winter Saturday night, our anniversary, crystal clear air featuring glittering stars on yesterday's six inches of pristine snow, basically alone watching television started my mood sliding south.

We ordered a pizza and opened a bottle of wine although she didn't feel like drinking and hardly touched her food. Disappointment hung in the air like humidity and I tried to force down a slice so that I wouldn't get totally plastered when I finished off the bottle later when she'd gone to bed.

After dinner Sharon as a combination goodwill gesture and apology brought out some of our adult movies we had squirreled away from the general population of family fare. It was better than what was on cable, I suppose, but this was one of the relatively few times that I didn't want to watch porn. She gave me a quick kiss on the forehead and I felt how warm her lips were from her low-grade fever. She then went into the bedroom to get changed. I assumed she'd put on her fleece pjs and that would be it for the anniversary. I poured another big glass of shiraz and glumly went through the videos looking for something to jerk off to.

Sharon emerged about ten minutes later and I nearly fell off the couch. She had put on some makeup, taking some of the pallor out from her face, and her shoulder-length red hair gleamed from the good brushing she had just given it, not exactly styled but free-flowing like a young girl's. It took a minute to realize that she had squeezed herself into her skintight pvc dress and matching knee-high stiletto heeled boots that I had bought her several years ago before our oldest daughter was born. She'd only worn the outfit once or twice to humor me and I had assumed she'd either gotten rid of it or banished it to some clothing gulag in the basement or attic. Sharon is on the petite side but is quite curvy - she'd say she was fat - and always claimed that she looked dumpy or cheap in the shiny skintight material. I always thought she looked great in it - a little zaftig fills out fetishwear more than a stick figure does, in my book. I knew she was feeling like crap and yet here she was, decked out in my favorite naughty outfit, just for me. I cursed myself silently for my selfishness.

Sharon took one of our mutual favorites and put the dvd in the player, making sure that as she bent over I got a long view of her ample behind, panties-free under the tight skirt, stretching the pvc to its utmost. As the dvd fired up she returned to the couch and knelt in front of me, pulling off my pants and underwear. She smiled weakly and gave me a few half-hearted licks. Her hands, usually ice-cold from her poor circulation, were quite warm from her fever and my penis began to respond to her attentions. My wife is an expert at handjobs; she has practiced for years on me and her variations are wonderful - dry, lubed, and for a rare treat her beautiful leather dress gloves; but her heart wasn't in it tonight. I could tell she was making a supreme effort for me even though I knew she only wanted to go to sleep. I told her that a handjob, while greatly appreciated, wasn't necessary and that we could just snuggle watching the movie.

To my surprise she sat on my lap. As her weight settled in I felt the heat of her body coming through the pvc clothing. The smooth slickness of the material slid across my thighs and groin as she adjusted herself into a comfortable position. I put my arms around her and held her closely and lovingly, more like a young teenager on a semi-innocent date than a grown man, rapidly approaching middle-age, sitting naked on a couch with a beautiful woman in shiny black pvc sitting in his lap watching a porno on the home theatre.

We stayed that way through the entire movie, with Sharon occasionally wiggling her plump behind, grinding into me. She had settled herself so that her weight was not uncomfortable for me and my circulation remained flowing. My hard-on was neither wilting nor overstimulated by the contact with her smooth, shiny ass; I was enjoying a nice, constant low level of arousal.

The movie ended and I turned off the dvd player, leaving the orphaned television screen glowing an electronic blue light into the dim room. We sat there in silence for a while, each lost in our thoughts. I mused over how I had proposed to her years ago in a restaurant that no longer existed; our honeymoon in Hawaii and the birth of our children; and finally how much Sharon meant to me as a friend and companion as well as a lover. While I was disappointed that our plans had fallen through for tonight I was also quite content to simply sit and hold my wife. My reverie was lost as Sharon shifted her weight and got up off me. She stood up and stretched, the ample curves of her body gleaming as it filled her pvc dress in the blue light of the living room. She smiled at me once again and knelt on all fours next to me on the couch. It seemed she had one more surprise for me. Looking at me over her shoulder she gave me one of the most enticing glances she'd ever given. She then wiggled her gleaming black ass at me in invitation.

Sharon's ass is my favorite part of her body. I can't keep my hands off it, whether giving her a playful pat as she does the dishes or dealing out a surprise spank or pinch during lovemaking. Doggy style is my favorite position with her, and my one regret is that I have not yet been able to persuade her into letting me fuck her in her adorable pink poop chute. Here she was, presenting her luscious backside to me on our anniversary to do with as I pleased although I knew she probably wanted only to curl up and go to sleep. She looked at me again, offering me my pleasure, and I paused. I didn't want to just pound away at her; she really didn't feel well and the few times she's let me fuck her while she wasn't really into it left me feeling let down, unsatisfied and selfish afterward. I didn't want to repeat the experience, but I also didn't want to refuse her gift. After weighing my options I knelt behind her and grabbed her hips.

I slowly began rubbing myself across her shiny backside, the warm slickness of it exciting me more and more. The weight of my body as I leaned into her forced my hard-on into the groove between her buttocks, and my dripping pre-cum lubricated the pvc into a slick tunnel that became almost resistance-free as I began to pump faster and faster. The couch groaned under my assault, and my grunts seemed obscenely loud in the late-night quiet of the darkened living room. My darling Sharon didn't say a word as I slid myself back and forth against her pvc-covered bottom. I didn't want her to do anything; I wanted to do the work. She of course had a different idea. As I sawed against her smooth, slick ass she stretched one leg back and began to rub her boot against my thigh. The sensation of her caressing me with her killer boot, made of the same material as her dress, sent me over the edge. I felt my balls contracting and a pulse of cum shot out of my hard-on. In the blue light of the television it seemed to hang in mid-air before traveling across Sharon's shiny ass and back, reaching almost to where her tousled red hair swished across her shoulders.

We stayed there for a moment, she looking at me over her shoulder with a sly smile and I looking back at her, on all fours in a skintight black dress, white jism gleaming wetly on her shiny black backside. Casually I ran my finger across her back through the goo and held it out to her. Smiling devishly she popped my finger into her mouth and licked it clean, her warm tongue swirling sensuously around my digit as if she was blowing it.

I got up from the couch and we both laughed as my knees cracked loudly in the quiet room. I went and got a towel and methodically wiped my spunk off her shiny outfit. When I was satisfied that the job was done I embraced her tightly. She smiled weakly at me and we kissed briefly and passionately. I fell in love with my beautiful, generous wife all over again. I caressed her hair and tenderly kissed her forehead. I then picked her up, carried her into the bedroom, peeled off her sexy outfit and replaced it with her comfy pjs and tucked her into bed. She fell asleep immediately.

I lay there next to her until I fell asleep, alternately looking at the moonlit snow outside and my slumbering darling. She gives me so much, and I often find myself wanting when it comes to reciprocation. There's nothing that I wouldn't do for her. She's my life.

It was an anniversary to remember.