Ch. 1 -- The Anniversary
On their tenth anniversary Sam and Annie held hands under a candlelit dinner table. Their lives together had accumulated an embarrassment of riches; deep, abiding love and respect for one another, two darling and mischievous little kids pittering and pattering all over their condo, and a shiny new SUV, all counted among their crown jewels.
Date nights on the other hand, were rarer treasures. The happy couple basked in their moment together, even as they struggled here and there to keep their promise not to talk about the kids the whole time. Their lives were truly wealthy and full, but busy.
"Busy" pretty much summed up Annie's existence. Her head was full of lists of things to do, mostly for the kids, or for work, or the condo. Add a few "to-dos" for Sam, her sisters, mother and father, church, the Women's League, etc. and there wasn't much left for just her.
She had it together; more than she gave herself credit for, but she longed for more. More time to go out with friends, downtime with hubby, to read more, work out, just be alone for a little while.
Sam was busy too, but different. He was a good husband, loving, funny, and sweet, but sometimes mercurial and distractible. Those things served him well in that he could be tightly wound one moment, and entirely relaxed the next. He'd go on a stressful fit of fixing things one day, and be perfectly content to pursue some new hobby the next.
Annie was the tide. Sam was the wind. At her best, Annie was consistent; she rose and fell with life's routines and surprises. At his, Sam was a whirlwind when needed and a gentle breeze when all was calm. At their worst, the metaphors spoke for themselves.
But so it was for them, the sea and the sky, meant to be together, but distinct. Sam smiled as Annie pushed her salad around the plate, and took a sip of wine. He knew her so well. How could he know then how much was left to discover and how much was left to reveal? How could she? Neither of them knew how much pleasure and delight both would find in the answers.
After dinner they took a walk downtown in the cool, windy evening air. It was only 8:30, but they lived in the parent time zone. They had to get back. But as Annie leaned into Sam's arm her auburn hair was swept forward by a gust. Sam looked at her and recalled their first date.
They were a mystery to each other back then. She looked more beautiful now; she was more beautiful now. But having been told she is beautiful and loved thousands of times, Sam wondered what to say, what to do, to make her as giddy as those first times he told her.
Annie wondered less, but felt more. Here, with her man's arm around her and only the sound of leaves blowing and her heels on the pavement, she was relaxed. Sometimes she wanted to have nothing more than a few minutes to herself, but right now she couldn't be held tight enough. She was so happy, and a little sad. All of the blessings of her life came with weight, treasure indeed, but heavy. She never wanted to give up her life, her amazing life, but she did want to escape from time to time.
They talked and joked and promised to work harder to go out together more. On the drive home, Sam fired a shot he'd probably held a bit too long.
"Hey An, what do you think about maybe spicing things up a bit for us? We could maybe try a few new things."
It wasn't poetic or commanding, but their sex life had a tough time competing with their other treasures. They both felt it, but wavered between a lack of self-confidence and not wanting to make it seem like they were unhappy to the other.
Annie had heard this "question" before, and she'd treated it with good humor and some enthusiasm. But it was always tricky. She enjoyed sex and they were both pretty good at it, but experimenting? In the past, it usually made her nervous. It also usually meant trying out something Sam came up with, having a bit of fun,and getting back to normal routines.
This time was different. At first, her lists ran through her brain as they pulled onto their street. But then they vanished. She shut down her work gears, her mommy gears, even her wife gears. Her brain was like the soft, black, empty glow of a computer booting up. A seed had been planted and Spring was here. It was time for it to germinate.
A single, wicked idea danced across her mind. She could feel the colors of it, the indulgence of it. Her head had a tingling, buzzing sensation and a whole troupe of things she wanted, wanted to feel, to do, and to be done to her, twirled and jumped inside her.
Her face was flushed before she felt it, but otherwise she gave away nothing. Warmth and wetness spread between her legs.
"Maybe," she replied, smiling at Sam as the pulled into the driveway.
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Ch. 2 -- Spiced
One week after their anniversary, life seemed like business as usual. Take the kids to school, work, hit the gym for a half-hour, bath time, bedtime, dinner over Netflix. Throw in a few meetings for Annie and site reviews for Sam, repeat. That said, Annie and Sam were both a little "off," as Annie would say; not cross with each other, just off their orbits. It was actually kind of fun in that they were a bit like college kids again, trying to feel each other out and each suspected it had to do with the same thing. It all started that anniversary.
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The happy couple had fucked hard after their anniversary date night, unusually hard. They'd checked on the kids, sent the sitter on her way, and shared another half glass of wine, providing the faintest buzz, then readied for bed.
It wasn't a lingerie affair, but they'd both engaged their cute, typical pre-sex routines. Annie washed her face, brushed her teeth, and lightly spritzed perfume while Sam swished mouthwash, combed his hair, and freshened up. The darling things they did for each other were casually thoughtful and romantic in their domestic way; subtle, civil signals that were ready and willing. When they hit the bed together Sam knew they would make love, but he was still in for a surprise, and "pleasant" wasn't the right word for it.
Annie was soaked. Sam could smell her wetness mixed with perfume when they first kissed. The combination was intoxicating for him, empowering for her. No, it wasn't pleasant. It was hotter, more urgent, sharper.
She sensed Sam back on his heels and artfully, lithely pushed her tongue into his mouth before pulling him down on top of her. Her hips ground his swelling dick against her pussy, spreading her wetness up to her clit.
Sam took her hands in his and started pushing them above Annie's head. He could take her then, pull her thong aside and fuck her steaming hot pussy right away, and fast. She was that wet. He wanted to, but just as he was readying to assert himself, Annie nibbled his ear, a move she'd perfected over the years, and usually one that signaled for him give her all he had or finish.
Then she ran her hands under his shorts, over his ass. Her fingers gently grazed his balls and even his anus. He jumped a little. She'd put her man off guard again. It was a change in their choreography that made Sam lose the beat for a moment, which was all Annie needed.
Sam was a good lover. Though she seldom allowed herself to think this way openly, he was also a "good fuck," as some of her dirty stories might say. But he was usually assertive, direct, in control. There were some fruitful areas to explore with his instincts. He wanted to "spice things up," "try new things?"
"Ok Sam, try this on for size," she mused.
