Anniversary Role Play

This is another story whose outline has been gifted to me by someone else; actually, they provided rather more than a bare outline, sufficient for me to suspect that it may well contain a grain of truth.

On the downside, this story is a little more complex than those which I usually write, so if you're looking for a tale that leads you by the hand without troubling your concentration or imagination then this one probably isn't for you. Though as ever, feel free to read it anyway and then bitch about it afterwards.

Oh, and ALL participants, by both fact or implication are eighteen years or older; I'm not certain how the rules apply on that score, so I've slightly edited the notes I was sent to ensure that we don't fall foul of them.

Act 1

Saturday was our twentieth wedding anniversary, we being Lisa and my husband Alan. In the past we've enjoyed some spectacular celebrations for the major numbers, but this year we could only dream of such. With mortgage, energy and every other damned cost going through the roof, our daughter Keira already in college and our son Jake about to start, even a weekend away at a nice hotel was beyond our budget.

The best we could manage this year was to hive off the kids to my mother's and enjoy a weekend at home with just the two of us. Having tossed aside those fantasies of things we couldn't afford to do and failed miserably to find a more pragmatic idea that appealed to us both; last week we began looking over in left field and between us we hit upon an outlandish alternative that excited us both:

Mum had collected the kids on Saturday afternoon and barely an hour later Alan was in the kitchen, pretending to wash the dishes and no doubt struggling to resist the temptation of looking out of the window. I meanwhile, was in the garage getting ready for part-one of our celebration; that would have been easier done in the house, but our scenario called for me to arrive via the kitchen's outer door.

Once in costume I peered out to ensure that none of our neighbours would see me before I left the garage's sanctuary. Only a few seconds later I groaned in frustration for having allowed myself to stop, bend down and pluck out a couple of weeds that I'd spotted growing in the pathway; those weeds were something that Keira would have never even noticed, let alone cleared.

Hurling those weeds aside, I waltzed into the kitchen and called out "Hi Dad!" while simultaneously dropping a school satchel onto the floor, shrugging the bottle-green blazer off my shoulders to land beside it and lifting the straw-hat, with it's matching green band from my head and tossing that toward, though falling short of, the kitchen table.

I was closing the door and kicking off my 'sensible', low-heeled shoes -- each in a different direction - in the moment that Alan replied: "What the hell are you doing here Keira; why aren't you at school?"

I ignored that question and wandered across to the fridge; I was opening its door and grabbing a Sprite when I instead enquired "Are Mum & Jake at home too?" I was now clad in only a cotton, waisted and button-fronted, dress with narrow white and green vertical stripes; oh, and a pair of white ankle socks. The clothes weren't Keira's, but they were the summer uniform of the school that she'd graduated from last year.

That said, I doubt if any of the pupils wear those silly hats or the ankle socks nowadays; Keira certainly hadn't. The dress ought properly to have been knee-length, but it was a little too small for me so finished three or four inches above mine. Nor was the bodice tailored to accommodate my more... mature figure; even with three buttons unfastened it stretched tight across my boobs and still displayed a degree of... overspill besides.

With my ample cleavage and already swollen nipples showing through the dress' fabric, I suspect that the Principal would've had a hissy fit if any pupil had arrived to school dressed like that. I gave a little shimmy and tossed my pony-tailed, auburn hair to ensure that Alan got the full effect; a move I'd practised in the garage a few minutes earlier. It seemed to work, as Alan paused before delivering his response:

"Your mum's over at Nana's and Jake's at school... Which is exactly where you should be! I'll ask you once again Keira: What are you doing home at this time of day?"

"I could ask you the same question... It's Thursday and they're always the most boring days of a boring school week; I always bunk off on Thursday afternoons, Tuesday's too, but there's never anyone else at home."

"Jesus Christ love, how on earth do you expect to get into University or secure a decent job for yourself if you're forever skipping school?"

I repeated that little shimmy and the hair toss before replying, adding a sexy smile to the mix too: "Why would I need to daddy? When you're as hot as I am, it'll be easier just to snag myself a wealthy husband."

Alan gave a disillusioned shake of his head "A nice idea Keira, but a bit naïve; you'll still need to be well educated. Wealthy husbands are few and far between, so the competition's likely to be fierce: why would some rich guy settle for a mindless bimbo when he can instead 'snag' one that's equally cute but capable of holding a conversation too?"

I responded with a dismissive shrug "So what if he doesn't marry me; provided that he sets me up in a nice apartment and pays the bills, I'll settle for being some old guy's mistress."

"Sure you will babe, but being pretty won't be enough for that either, you still need education. Maybe not the sort that you find in school books, but if a guy's paying for a top-dollar whore, he'll expect a top-dollar service for his money; not just some slutty schoolgirl..."

I remained silent and lowered my eyes, allowing Alan to continue "...But if that's your life-plan Keira, then I'd best do all that I can to help you with it; that's what we dad's are for after all. So, if there's no point in my driving you back to school, we may as well spend the afternoon, giving you a practical home-school lesson."

Even knowing what was coming the speed of Alan's assault drew a genuine yelp from my lips; he was beside me in two strides. One hand entwined in that pony tail, Alan jerked my head up and our eyes met in the moment his other hand grabbed the top of my dress and ripped it open; I could hear tearing fabric, bouncing buttons and felt cool air wafting across my abdomen.

An instant later Alan's right hand reached for my breasts; I flinched in that moment and Alan's fingers managed only to snag my brassiere. That skimpy and lace-trimmed garment would certainly not have met the high-school dress code and nor did it survive Alan's grip; the fragile Tyrian-purple fabric ripped away from its straps allowing my breasts to spill free.

It might've been a similar waft of cool air crossing over those which saw my nipples perking up? Though perhaps not, they were hardly uncovered for long enough; Alan had wrapped a hand around each in the moment they broke free. Alan's grip was rough -- a grope rather than a caress -- and so too was his voice. "Sweet tits... and bigger than I would've guessed Keira; we'll have some fun with those."

Those hands were soon on the move, sliding around the curve of my breasts until each nipple rested between Alan's index fingers and thumbs; the rolling, twisting, pinch that he delivered was even more forceful than his initial grope had been. I threw back my head and released a deep, almost bestial growl in response; not what one might expect of an innocent schoolgirl... I needed to do better.

One of Alan's hands was replaced by his mouth, he lashed his tongue powerfully around and across both my nipple and their areola while I squealed "Don't... No dad... Stop, pleasssse." Though that appeal was curtailed by the not unexpected pain of Alan's teeth biting into the swollen and sensitive nub and I wailed like a banshee once more.

My hands were against Alan's shoulders and soon after he'd served similarly rough treatment upon my right nipple, I managed to push him away; I was fairly sure Alan had allowed me to succeed in gaining that respite. "More sensitive than your mum's; I guess I'll need to treat you more gently." the intensity of the finger-twist Alan applied to my left nipple in punctuation, belied that statement.

I was gasping for breath, my heartbeat was racing and my complexion must've been as red as a beetroot; how could it be otherwise, my whole torso was flushed. I saw with that same glance that my dress front wasn't entirely open; my navel and the lacy top edge of my panties -- those had matched my now destroyed bra -- were exposed, but the three lowest buttons were still in place.

Alan must've spotted that too; a second later his right hand dropped to my panty-line and those remaining buttons had followed the rest to the kitchen floor. My dress to swung apart like a pair of curtains, allowing Alan reached into the void and dispatch my panties with a similar ease to that he had my bra.

This time around I managed to produce a more satisfyingly... youthful sounding squeal of protest as I pressed my hands between my legs to hide my modesty. Then a second when Alan wrenched my hands away and stared before growling "A sweet pussy too Keira... We're going to have even more fun with that."

I hadn't shaved between my legs, but I had trimmed and... thinned my usually luxuriant red bush, I suspect Alan's noticing that preening explained his slight pause before speaking. Alan next jerked the opened dress from my shoulders and tore away the remnants of my bra; once those too fell away, I was naked save for those virginal white socks.

I dropped my head in a show of embarrassment, one hand returning to my crotch while the opposite arm did it's best to cover my breasts and more especially those erect and swollen nipples. My head remained bowed as I sniffled and whimpered in my shame, Alan allowed me that for a few seconds, perhaps he was savouring my performance.

The hiatus, was short lived; Alan dragged each of my hands away to be promptly replaced with his own; that which went to my breasts was as aggressive as it'd been previously, but his right, fluttered gently, almost teasingly between my legs. I bore Alan's touch for several seconds before snapping my thighs closed around his hand and emitting another of those fragile screeches.

Alan jerked his hands free from between my clasped thighs, snarled "It's a bit too late to be playing the innocent now Keira; you want to be whore... Then it's time for your first lesson." Alan's hand slapped hard against my thigh in emphasis when he concluded "...So spread those legs for daddy!"

I shuffled my feet apart as demanded, all the while pleading with daddy to stop; I doubt that I managed to inject the required level of terror and reluctance into my voice, but I'd no problem with the trembling, Did Alan think my quaking well acted, or did he realise that it was for real? Albeit that those tremors had damn all to do with any fear and foreboding, it was arousal... I was as horny as a goat!

Daddy's hand pressed between my parted thighs, his middle finger going straight to my pussy and immediately sinking deep inside it with an embarrassing ease. My response wasn't even close to convincing, the groan which escaped from my lips spoke purely of wanton pleasure and desire; it's power all but masked Alan's growl of "Now that's an eager little cunt Keira... perhaps you do have a future whoring?"

Daddy whisked me off my feet and then sat me down on the kitchen table's edge without that invading finger -- where there perhaps two? - ever leaving my pussy. I squirmed and squealed enroute but once there, my struggles were easily quelled; dad's hand pressed between my breasts to topple me backwards while my legs thrashed fruitlessly, my toes a few inches clear of the floor.

Alan's left hand remained on my sternum, pinning me to the table top, while his right unfastened his belt and pants, where after daddy pushed both those and his boxer shorts down and kicked them free. Working one-handed that took some while; throughout it all I struggled as best I could and pleaded with daddy to stop and let me go... I was virgin, he mustn't do this.

Dad responded with a coarse laugh, before growling "Too late for bullshitting Keira, your mum's apprised me of those girly conversations that the two of you have had about boys; you're a natural born slut... Just like your mother."

In punctuation of his statement, the fingers Alan still had inside me -- there were definitely two -- pressed deeper and twisted within my pussy. The febrile moan which that drew from me, in conjunction with my hips writhing and lifting to meet dad's penetration combined to confirm rather than refute his allegation; the final notes of that moan were still rolling when I felt daddy's fingers being replaced by the tip of his cock.

That penetration too belied any suggestion that I was virgin; the full length of daddy's cock slid into me in a single easy stroke, accompanied by another febrile moan from me, which concluded with a yelp as our pubic bones collided. Jesus Christ but I was wet and this was supposed to be Alan's fantasy rather than mine!

There was short delay before daddy rammed his cock into me for a second time; those pauses reoccurred between each subsequent penetration too. I'd initially thought that Alan was enjoying the moment of his first, cherry-popping penetration, but soon began wondering if Keira had already brought daddy so close to coming that he needed those respites to control himself?

Alan had certainly never fucked me this way... But I was going to make damned sure that he did so in future: Bang! A gasping pause, a slow spiralling withdrawal, a shorter pause, then Bang! The sensation was lush and though our coupling didn't last long -- far shorter than usual, Alan was fired-up! - it brought Keira to her climax comfortably before daddy reached his own.

I tried to quell that orgasm in an effort to portray ongoing reluctance and modesty, but my efforts were futile. "Don't try holding it in Keira... Men like to see their whores enjoying it too; let yourself go and come for daddy."

That was the easiest instruction Alan had given me since we began our charade; I threw my arms around daddy's neck and pulled his face hard against my breasts, wrapped my legs tightly around his bum to hold his cock deep inside me as I ground my clitoris against his intruding shaft and howled like a banshee. There was no need for amateur dramatics now; I came like that proverbial train!

I was so far gone that I almost missed my next mark in our script; Alan had twice -- the second time through clenched teeth - growled "That's it Keira; daddy's ready to come inside your slutty cunt now." before I delivered the agreed response:

Unhooking my ankles while pressing against Alan's shoulders I screamed "Noooo! I'm not on the pill dad, you can't come inside me, you might get me pregnant!" as I pushed him off. Daddy didn't resist, indeed just the opposite, he stepped smartly away, though grabbed my hair as he did so, pulling Keira off the table, whereupon her legs buckled beneath me.

I was sinking to the floor but Alan's grip in my hair prevented me sinking beyond my knees; though I hadn't even reached those when daddy snarled "We'll have to put that right before next time Keira... But for today I'll just have to use your mouth." Daddy's cock was bumping against my cheek and chin as he spoke.

I struggled then, but daddy's grip tightened on my hair, twisting that pony tail; my mouth opened wide as I cried out and his cock found its goal. Dad was almost too late; perhaps due to my delay in hearing him the first time? Daddy's first emission had hosed up the left side of my face before he'd forced his cock inside my open mouth, I could feel semen on my cheek, in my hair and even see droplets hanging from my eyelashes; I was covered.

That was a something I'd occasionally experienced before, but the sensation of daddy unloading the rest into Keira's mouth was new to me. Don't get me wrong, I'd sucked Alan's cock often, but it had always been as a precursor to his fucking me... Fresh from the shower, not coated in my own juices and I'd never allowed him to come in my mouth.

That said, I'd not dissented when Alan had proposed this finale; though the look in his eye when he did, suggested that he'd expected me to do so. How could I? While Lisa was Alan's girlfriend and then wife... So free to choose, Keira's situation didn't allow her that courtesy; she was obliged to swallow all that daddy pumped into her and then lick his softening cock with her tongue to clean-up every drop.

Daddy's voice was rumbling in the background as he unloaded into Keira's mouth, complementing her on being an 'eager little cock-sucker' but admonishing her for 'still having a lot to learn' and promising to 'teach her properly during her next lesson'. I'll be honest I missed most of what daddy said, having again allowed my mind to drift:

In that moment I wasn't interested in Keira and her next lesson; I was more concerned about Lisa's next adventure. Why had I refused Alan for all these years? The sensation... And flavour, were wonderful, that taste-combination of us both was fucking awesome! Mental note to self: The very next time Alan and I are in bed I'm going to fuck him until I've come, then give him the blow-job of his life!

I was still ruminating on that when Alan pushed me roughly aside and ordered: "Get yourself cleaned-up and properly dressed Keira; Jake and your mum will be home soon, you won't want them to know what a little slut you've become. Oh and remember... I'll be expecting you home on Tuesday afternoon for your next lesson."

I was still sat on the floor when Alan walked out of the kitchen and before climbing back to her feet to comply with daddy's instructions, Keira used her fingers to scrape the spilt semen from her face and hair, before licking them clean... Every inch daddy's little slut.

Act -- 2

I headed for the family bathroom to clean-up, leaving the en-suite free for Lisa; it was several minutes later when I heard her coming up the stairs, was that good news or bad? While the initial idea of celebrating our wedding anniversary by 'choosing your wildest sexual fantasy' had been Lisa's, I'd been surprised that she'd followed it through once I'd told her mine.

Actually, neither of us 'told' the other one our fantasy, instead, we'd each written them out on a piece of paper and swapped those to read in silence. Lisa was slow in reading, or more likely re-reading my proposal, whereafter she asked "Could I have mine back please; I want to re-write it." I was so relieved at Lisa not having exploded on reading mine, that I was happy to agree.

Lisa scrunched that note into a ball and threw it on the fire; a disappointment for the Sam, the Jamaican guy who cleans our windows, had he known about it. Lisa's first suggestion had re-iterated how well she and I were suited to each other; Sam was to fuck her much in much the same way as I'd proposed using our daughter.

There were two minutes of silence while Lisa considered and then wrote out her second version. Lisa's eyes remained downcast as she passed that note over to me. "That first one wasn't true... I wasn't as brave as you... This one is my wildest fantasy." I couldn't help grinning as I read Lisa's second proposal; she and I really were made for each other.

With those fantasies revealed without fireworks, we each fleshed out our scenarios over a couple of bottles of red wine, neither of us raising any significant objection to anything that the other suggested. Which fantasy was to be played out first we settled with the toss of a coin; Lisa won that coin-toss and elected that her fantasy should be played-out second.