Happy Anniversary

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His plan.

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Last night I lay in bed dreaming of our anniversary celebration and the plans I'd made for us. I spent the night in Memphis, but knew I'd be home in time for us to celebrate. Since I'm on the plane now, winging my way back to the left coast, I thought I'd share what will happen tonight.

Yesterday I sent my wife instructions on what to wear to work today. She keeps her pussy shaved because she knows it makes her look more open to me. Her work environment requires conservative apparel, so she's wearing a dress, but instead of the usual panty hose she's got stockings and a garter belt, along with a thong. I'm going to pick her up at work in my new Porsche Boxster. Before coming downstairs to meet me, she knows to remove that thong so I can play with her in the car on the way to the restaurant.

I've picked a special restaurant for dinner tonight, a place where we dined the first weekend I tied her up. Though we'll be discreet over dinner, we won't waste any time once we're done. For safety's sake I no longer demand blowjobs while driving, but it's my intention to take her home, close the garage, and immediately put her head in my lap. As soon as I unload she'll swallow it all, then we'll drop the top and take a quick run down the coast to Malibu for an after-dinner dessert. When we return from the drive it'll be her turn to come, but we're going to do it my way.

First off, I expect her to wear a blindfold, just as she did the first day she visited. While still in the living room I'll bury my head beneath her dress and lap at that sweet, naked pussy. If I were a better porn author I'd describe how my tongue had her writhing and screaming in orgasm, but I don't know whether I have that talent yet. What I *do* know will happen though is that at some point I'll carry her into the bedroom, still blindfolded, and place her on the bed. Then, gently but firmly, her hands will be bound to the headboard and her legs will be spread for me. I've thought about whether or not to work her dildo into her luscious backside before sliding my cock into her pussy, but I may choose to get her off with just my missionary stick first, then lube her up and stretch her ass afterwards.

Did I mention I expect to keep her clothed while enjoying her pleasures? Yeah, I'll bunch up her dress around her waist, and open the front so I can play with those big, sweet tits of hers, but part of the thrill is the naughtiness of sex "in a hurry."

After I've filled her with my come, I'll untie her and hold her close. We've been close for nine years now, so it's important that I show her how much she still means to me. After fulfilling her fantasies and mine, it's my way of reaffirming my love.

P.S. I hope to take photos of her with her legs spread, her pussy framed by the material of her dress, as well as with my cock in her mouth. No, nobody will ever get to see them, but they'll keep me hard during those long trips away.

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Her plan.

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He always thrills me with his surprises, especially on special occasions like our anniversary. This time I thought I'd give him a surprise. Since I knew he had business in Memphis for the week, I took my time to make sure every detail was perfect.

Reading his e-mail instructions left me a little damp as I thought about the things he was likely to do to me. I couldn't do anything about it at work, but as soon as I got home I opened the message on my personal Gateway and read it again. Now I could take my time, so I studied each word carefully while I softly stroked my portal, slipping one or two fingers inside as I visualized the thrills we'd both enjoy the next day. Though never as satisfying a come as when he's in control of my body, nonetheless I experienced a small climax to "take the edge off" for another day. Then I set about to make final preparations.

I already had the clothes set aside, as per his request. I'd also pulled my hair back so he could see my lips in action more easily. A fresh shave is de rigeur on occasions like this, of course, as is a fresh manicure.

He's a clever guy, and probably figured all this out. What I'll bet he wouldn't count on would blow his socks off.

Here's what happened:

My lover called me at work from the airport, giving me plenty of time to tie up loose ends and get rid of the thong as he'd demanded.

Traffic was light and he arrived at the office earlier than planned. After stepping down the stairs, I watched Cheryl, our lovely young receptionist, flirt with him and tease him while I waited on the other side of the stairwell door for a few minutes. Cheryl is quite the fox, the perfect eye candy for a techno corporation like ours. She's 5'9" with a dazzling figure, a charming smile, and a melodious laugh that draws you in without effort. She's quite the wit too, always ready with a good comeback or a quick joke. She dresses to show off her natural beauty, meaning that there's plenty of cleavage and leg showing, but in a sophisto, educated way rather than the sluttish look of some well-endowed young women.

Anyway, I watched Cheryl flirt with Paul for several minutes before pushing open the door into the lobby. She flashed one of her famous smiles at me and said "Your hubbie is soooo romantic! He's been telling me all about his plans for the evening. I just know you're going to have a wonderful anniversary together."

Somehow I didn't think he told her all about his plans--I didn't know them all myself, but if they were like years past, I figured there were some juicy bits he left out of his conversation with her.

"Yeah, he's a pretty special guy," I replied as I gave him a quick peck on the cheek, "and pretty danged good looking too. Come on, handsome, dazzle me with romance." I winked at Cheryl while I grabbed Paul's arm.

"See ya soon," she said, as we strolled out the door arm in arm.

"I missed ya, loverboy," I cooed as I climbed into the Boxster. He'd left the top up to keep from musssing up my hair, with the side benefit of giving us a bit more privacy in the car. As he reached for first gear, I grabbed a gearshift of my own, anxious to feel what I'd been missing for the last week. As I expected, he was rock hard through the suit. Each time he grabbed a new gear I'd give him a shift of my own, enjoying the groans from the driver's seat.

Paul told me to use my other hand to pull up my dress and play with myself. I gently stroked my love nubbin, bringing it out from its hood, then slid one finger, then two, then three into the dripping receptacle of love between my legs.

When we finally got the restaurant, he killed the engine but left the car in first gear so he could leave the parking brake lever down. Meanwhile, I gave his gearshift knob one last squeeze, then quickly looked around. Not seeing anyone nearby, I ducked my head into his lap for a quick kiss before dinner. He threw his head back against the headrest and let out another groan. I rose back up in the seat almost as quickly as his cock did, telling him that he'd get plenty more after dessert. He grabbed my arm, then slipped his mouth over my juicy fingers, licking them clean while savoring the taste of my fragrant pussy. "Mmmm, a taste of dessert before dinner," he joked.

I recognized the parking lot as that of Le Tour Eiffel, our favorite French restaurant. This was the place he took me the first night we experimented with mild bondage. No, silly, not at the restaurant, but when we got home after dinner. I lay spread eagle on the kitchen table, bound to the corners with silk scarves, while he had his way with me from all sides, rewarding me with plenty of climaxes of my own.

Dinner was exquisite, but not overdone. We laughed and joked and talked about how much we missed each other while he was away. Though there was plenty of food, we enjoy it at a leisurely pace and decide to take home most of it. With a wicked grin he told me he didn't want me stuffed so I could get stuffed at home instead.

It was a short trip from the restaurant to the house. As soon as he pulled into the garage, he let the turbo spool down while lowering the convertible top. We kiss feverishly as the electric motors whine and the garage lights shine down on us. In a moment he cuts off the engine and pushes the remote control to close up the garage.

As soon as the door drops to bumper level he grabs me by the back of the neck. I know exactly what to do. We haven't "broken in" the new car yet, but it's about to be deflowered as he guides my face down into his crotch. I hear the door close completely as I scramble to unzip his trousers and release his cock. As soon as it emerges my face disappears in his lap, engulfing him completely in the first stroke. His hair tickles my nostrils, while the tip tickles my tonsils.

After the initial plunge, I slowly reverse direction, breathing through my nose as soon as my throat is clear. I bob down again, my tongue tickling the underside of his dick. I trace the veins of his staff, enjoying its ripples and texture. He caresses my hair, my shoulders, my face as I slide my lips up and down his rod, throwing in a slight twist of my head when I reach bottom. I've found that the feeling of my throat rotating around the tip of his shaft really gets him going. I'm thirsty for his sweet juice and work faster to get him off. Meanwhile he's squeezing my tits and reaching down to the wet place between my legs. I continue to bob up and down his shaft, my fingers gently rolling his furry balls.

I can feel him tensing up, but his release doesn't come until I slicken my finger with his pre-come, then slide it up his butt. Wham! His cock twitches up against the roof of my mouth, letting lose a stream of molten love. I feverishly gulp down a week's worth of hot come, never letting his lovely cock escape my mouth even though he's sending me to heaven with the way I'm being touched. Surge after surge of creamy liquid leaves his body and enters mine, then suddenly he returns the favor and shoves his finger up my ass. Don't ask me why--I flunked biology in high school--but that was the trigger that sent me over the edge myself. "Oh, god!" I mumble around his still hard dick. "Oh, Jeeeeeezus, I'm coming!"

If someone were peaking through the window of the kitchen door that connects the garage to the house, they'd have seen what must have seemed a ludicrous site: two adults in a sports car, twitching, sighing, and murmuring, one with a cock in her mouth and the other with his finger in her ass, both clearly happy and satisfied.

We sat/lay there like that for a few minutes, then realized just how uncomfortable it was in the tight quarters of the Porsche. He pushed the garage opener button, catching me off guard as the rollup door quickly rose. I rushed to tuck my tits back into my dress, but decided no one could see my naked pussy as long as I stayed in the car. I tipped down the mirror to straighten my face, but decided my hair wasn't worth messing with.

"Ready for dessert?" he asked as he backed out of the garage.

"Sure," I replied, "as long as it comes with another kind of treat later!"

With the finesse that comes with years of amateur racing, he maneuvers the Porsche quickly onto the freeway. We drive towards the full moon for a few minutes, then he darts off the 101 to take Kanan-Dume road down to Malibu. It's a lovely evening out, cool without chilling, and I love the feel of the wind in my hair.

Our favorite little ice cream shop is tucked away in a strip mall. I relish the flavor of the pumpkin spice ice cream as it melts on my tongue even though it covers up the creamy taste I'd savored earlier. Hey, I knew where to get more, now didn't I? I think he enjoyed the way I squirmed in my seat at the ice cream parlor, trying to keep my dress down enough that the high school boys wouldn't get too much of a show. Just as we were about to leave, he whispered, "Let them see you, just for a moment."

I was a little scared--we hadn't played this sort of game before, but since we were 20 miles from home I decided to go for it. I tipped my purse over on the table, "letting" my keys fall to the floor. Quickly I bent over to pick them up, giving them a quick flash of my slick thighs and tight ass before standing again. The gasp I heard over the hum of the ice cream coolers told me they'd enjoyed my little presentation.

I knew this little interlude was just a diversion, a bit of play and recharge before getting back to the house for some serious romance. I still didn't know quite what he had in mind when we returned, but I certainly knew what I had waiting for him, and I couldn't wait to get started.

He beat me to the punch, reaching over and pulling my dress up above my waist, then commanding me to keep my right hand wet in my lap. "Why the right?" I asked. Instead of answering directly, he took my left hand and rested it in his lap. "Yes, dear, now I understand!" I unzip his fly and reach in, squeezing the solid mass of flesh he keeps hidden. Though I don't actively jack him off, I can feel his cock throbbing in my fingers and can't wait to put it where it really belongs. He drives carefully home and once again closes the garage door and pulls my face towards his for a lingering wet kiss. My hands are still where he placed them so I can't pull him closer to me.... besides, my fingers would soak his jacket!

After a few minutes of his loving caresses, he pulls away and tells me to zip him back up. Next, he reaches behind my seat and hands me a bag, instructing me to go into the kitchen and slip into what's inside. He climbs out of the car, then holds the door open for me. I hear a slight "tink" as I grab the bag, but I pay it no mind. "You've got five minutes to prepare," he warned me. "Be sure you're proper when I come in."

I rushed into the house and opened his gift. Putting a finger to my lips, I studied the contents. Klink. Handcuffs I recognize, but what's this other metal contraption? Oh, wait, I remember seeing this on a web site somewhere--it goes in your mouth. What else? Okay, I can change bustiers, no problem. Hmmm, better get quick pulling on those new stockings. I've still got a couple of minutes--does he want these handcuffs attached in front or behind? In back and he can fuck my face; in front, I can play with his balls. Even with a ring gag I know I can keep him happy. Decisions, decisions.... okay, I know what I'll do.

"Lover, I'm ready!"

Ah, the look on his face when he walked in--puzzled at first that I could speak, then transformed almost instantly to sheer delight. There I was, all trussed up, a leather bustier offering my tits, me on my knees ready to serve and service him. Right next to me in a similar outfit, my left wrist handcuffed to her right, but with the ring gag propping her mouth open, kneeled Cheryl.

"Happy anniversary, honey," I said with my head bowed. "I hope you like your special present."

"I can't wait to try it out," he replied.

The sound of his zipper and slurp of her tongue told me this was going to be a night we'd all remember.