With my first submission into the Loving Wives category, I can't help but compare myself to a nervous virgin..
I've spent the last 6 months exploring the different story types and have learnt a few things about people, in general, and more specifically about myself. The story lines I find interesting and intriguing vs. what I find to be disturbing. There are many walks of life in the garden of sex. kinks, fetishes, fidelity and moral opinions. I may not agree with all, but I never feel it's my place to judge, "what floats your boat". As a reader, we have a choice about what we choose to read.
I have a few more stories that I hope to publish soon, each different in their own way. This story, Anniversary Secrets, tackles the lives of a very happy and sexually liberated couple. However, nothing is ever perfect. Can you go too far? Does your garden have a serpent? Can you continue to trust?
(I write and self-edit/proofread. It's all part of my therapy. My apologies for spelling or grammatical mistakes)
Enjoy,
C_T
**
My wife and I have had to work for everything in our life. We both came from low middle class families. But what we lacked in monetary terms, we gained in a strong work ethic. We knew the value of a hard day's work and that was reflected in our marriage. We worked hard at it, unlike so many couples we've met and hung around with. Don't get me wrong, we were far from perfect, but to this day, there wasn't anything we couldn't tackle.
That's why this trip for our tenth anniversary was even more special. It was the first real trip we'd ever done and that's including our honeymoon, which was four days down the highway at Niagara Falls. It wasn't extravagant but we barely left the room anyway. We planned this destination trip two years ago and socked a little away every month above our savings and future retirement funds. We found out early that Diane couldn't have children and at first it was a hard pill to swallow, but we learnt to accept the hand we were delt and chose to live our life as fully as we could.
We may have come from humble beginnings, but my wife and I have put in the time to stay healthy and fit. At 37, my wife Diana was still a cold stone fox. That's how I saw her and based on the number of heads she turns in her bikini; many men are in agreeance. Shoulder length dark hair, with that natural curl women would die for. Ample but appropriate breasts, flat stomach, accented by her perky round bottom, all put together in a 5'7" package.
As for myself, I hadn't fared too bad either. Maybe the beginning of the popular "DAD BOD" but I was still fit. My dark hair had some flecks of grey, but my wife said it made me look distinguished, so I let it do its thing. I never made the 6-foot mark. I peaked at 5'10" after high school and never grew another inch. I couldn't grow a beard or mustache to save my life so, my always shaved face gave me a younger look, constantly surprising people that I was pushing 40.
It was our third night at the resort and after another full day of sun and rum, we had gotten dressed up and hit one of the many clubs the resort had to offer. Diane loved to dance, and I loved watching her. She could take a beat and own it. Her body had a way of making the slightest movements sexy and her sultry look would just add fuel to that fire. More than once she was approached by another man to dance, but as usual she would politely decline. It had always been this way and I long learned not to get jealous about it. The look in her eyes told me, no other man even had a chance.
We barely made it back to our room, when the clothes were quickly discarded in haste. Our sex life was always passionate. Sometimes we'd spend hours making romantic love to each other. Getting lost in the soft touches and kisses as our bodies gently molded to each other. We both loved to give and receive oral, taking our time to bring our partner to orgasmic bliss. But there were also lots of times we would rut, like wild animals. Fuck and pound like we were trying to slam the other through the mattress, or couch or backseat.
We've always been open and free to try different positions, risky public areas and the odd kink or two. We've played with light bondage. Diane loves to be tied and tortured by my tongue. She says the helplessness adds to her sexual energy. She always cums like a freight train when I fuck her after those sessions.
A few years ago, Diane bashfully brought up the idea of pegging. She knew it was one of the more taboo things she suggested, but after some careful discussions and clear lines of boundaries, it too became a part of our lives. It wasn't often, but we'd pull it out on special occasions, especially when Diane was feeling extra spicy. I'd be lying if I didn't admit there was a part of me that loved that side of her. Submitting to her fully like that was liberating. When you trust someone so implicitly it makes your bedroom life much more fun.
I wouldn't be surprised if we woke up a few of our neighboring tourists with our loud session. Tonight wasn't a romantic one. We started in the bathroom, ended up with her on the small table, the bed... even the balcony! However, we were more reserved outside, so we finished loud and proud on our bed. It took us both awhile to catch our breath, her head was on my shoulder tracing her fingers through the sweaty hair on my chest. We were both basking in the afterglow.
"Tell me something you've never told me before." My wife's quiet voice broke the silence.
"Like what?" I asked in surprise.
"I don't know. There must be something you've kept from me all these years. You know... something embarrassing." She giggled lightly.
"Is there something you need to confess?" I chirped in jest.
"No! I was just hoping there could be more to learn about my man. You can never really know everything right? I just thought I'd ask." I could see the value in her motive.
"How about you? You have anything so embarrassing you never told anyone?" I kissed the top of her head. Her hand stopped for a second, then started back up.
"You remember that time I went for a Brazilian waxing at that spa with Jenny?" Jenny was one of her best friends. We didn't get along too well, but I tried for Diane's sake. I liked her husband Peter though. He was a salt of the earth kind of guy, I was sad for him when they divorced. As for Jenny, she always acted like she had something on me. Giving me shots about not quite being a man, or something along that line. I've questioned my wife more than once about Jenny's behavior, but she's always insisted that was just her personality.
"Of course I remember! I don't think my face left your pussy all night." I chuckled. She turned up to me and she had a huge smile on her face.
"You were insatiable! I can't even count how many times I came all over your face." Her eyes looked up for a second. "Hmmm... do they do Brazilian's here?" She giggled.
I gave her a soft growl. "Save your money. You can use my face anytime and for as long as you want!" Her smile got even larger. Then she quickly put her head back on my chest.
"Remember when I told you how freaked out I was when the esthetician was a male? I mean Jenny told me was gay, which was quite obvious, but it was still weird that a guy was waxing my foofoo." I chuckled at the memory. She was a little traumatized by it, but a night of getting her pussy eaten out quickly dealt with that.
"Well, what I didn't tell you... was, I was so nervous that I kept clenching my lower muscles, and.... oh god this is so embarrassing." She started laughing. "I was so tense, that when he bent over to apply the wax... I... I.... farted!" We both started laughing. "Oh god!" She was laughing hard now. "The poor guy almost fell off his stool." My eyes were watering so bad at this point. "It stunk soooo bad!" She was totally losing it now.
We laughed for quite a while at her confession. When we finally got it out of our systems, she finished with one last tidbit. "I made him so sick, he couldn't even finish the job! They had to get another woman to do it!" Our laughter returned.
As we settled down, I thought back, looking for some embarrassing tale I could share and only one thing came to my mind. Maybe it was all the rum, the afterglow, or the trust I had in my wife, but what came out of my mouth would impact our relationship more than I could imagine.
"I sucked a guy's cock." I blurted. Her hand stopped moving, then her head came up and she was staring into my eyes.
"Bullshit! You can't make stuff up. It has to be real." When I didn't flinch or argue she looked at me even harder. "Oh my god! You did!" She sat up and slapped my chest. "When? Who?" She got all excited.
"I can't tell you that! It was a long time ago, before I met you. I don't really want to go into the detail's babe. It's not something I like to think about."
"Oh c'mon! Please? You can't just throw that out there and not expect me to ask for more!" She gently rubbed my chest, giving me her puppy dog eyes and big pouty lip.
"Fine! It was my last year in college."
"Who was it?" She chirped quickly.
"No one you'd know."
"If I wouldn't know him, why can't you tell me his name?" She teased me with a pitchy tone.
"You are not going to let this go, are you?" She smiled and shook her head.
"His name was Anthony." I finally gave in. She looked like she was trying to place the name. I hoped she wouldn't put it together, but I should've known she'd figure it out in that beautiful brain of hers.
Her face lit up and she slapped my chest. "Anthony? Wasn't he your roommate?" She could tell by my look that she nailed it. "Wait! Anthony was black, wasn't he?"
I was surprised at her comment. "So?"
"How big was he?" She sounded like a schoolgirl.