Dominant wife celebrates a special anniversary in style – and her hubby couldn’t be happier
Nothing keeps Mack and I closer than our kink. We tend to celebrate it. Recently, we celebrated its one-year anniversary.
“Happy anniversary, happy anniversary… ” I sang from the walk-in closet. I buckled tight the harness for my strap-on and grabbed my lavender cock. Not for the first time I wished the toy were real, so that I could feel my grip — and feel what was about to happen.
I came out, displaying my phallus with a game-show hostess’s flourish. “A brand-new cock for a big night.”
He was prone on the bed, staring at me, with his eyes slightly glazed and his dick straight up at attention. That’s the way he gets when I’m going to fuck him up the ass.
I love that look.
“So,” I prompted, “what do you think?”
“I love it.” His normally commanding, deep voice was an octave higher than normal. His excitement was audible.
“Prove it. Come here and suck it.” I stood with my knees pressed to the edge of the bed and waited for him to crawl across the mattress to me. He did, slowly, looking very much like a large, predatory cat. “Open that pretty mouth,” I murmured, grabbing a hunk of his hair when he got close enough. I pressed my cock to his lips and watched as he surrendered to the motion and parted his lips for me.
The sight of him taking my dick has never lost its magic. No matter how many times we do this. And we do it roughly once a month.
“Are you excited for our anniversary?” I asked. His mouth was stuffed full of silicone dick, and I admired the way he looked trying to talk around it.
“Yes,” came his muffled reply.
“Prove it,” I said again. “Deep-throat me, big boy.”
So he did. I kept my hands in his hair and watched as he managed to stuff most of my faux cock down his throat. He gagged a little and made the same noises I make when I give him a blowjob — and God, the sounds went right to my cunt. The noises he was making — they made me so wet. I shifted just enough to give myself a thrill of pleasure.
“Turn over,” I ordered, finding the lube bottle. I slathered the dildo in wetness and then tilted the bottle so I could drizzle clear liquid down his asscrack. I moved close to him on the bed and leaned in to lick the small of his back, bite his asscheek, nibble his hip.
Mack tried his best to stay still, but he felt as if he were practically vibrating under me.
“Just a finger or two,” I said softly, circling his asshole with my fingertip. I advanced relentlessly but patiently until my first finger breached him. When I felt his body relax and he moaned, pressing his face to the bed, I added a second.
I fucked him with my fingers first, watching the way his hips moved up and down, side to side, needy … restless. This was what I looked like when he was priming me and I just wanted him in me already. This was the same dance I did. I liked seeing it from a different point of view.
“Okay,” I breathed. “Here I come.” Then I laughed at my own joke.
I slipped the head of the cock into him, marveling again at how the dildo looked when his body opened for me and allowed me entrance. I moved slow, not wanting to miss a moment, not wanting to rush a thing. His ass blossomed for me as I pressed forward with great ease. I touched his skin, sliding my fingers over his body to soothe him and keep him relaxed.
He pushed back to meet me, groaning like I was killing him in the most wonderful way. When I knew it was good, that it was fine to go fast, I planted both hands on the small of his back and started to fuck him in earnest.
“It was a year ago today that you asked me to do this,” I said. He nodded, but said nothing. “You still want it?” I asked, though I knew he did.
Mack nodded enthusiastically, his hand straying toward his cock but not touching it. Not without permission. Permission I hadn’t given.
“Tell me then.”
“I want it,” he growled.
My nipples spiked as the base of the dildo kissed my swollen clit. Another rush of pleasure coursed through me.
“Want what, lover?” I couldn’t help but grin. And I couldn’t help but toy with him a little. Just a bit. When he fucked me, he was all about control; I would have the same.
“I want this.”
“And what’s this?” I thrust a bit faster, a bit deeper, stealing his breath away.
“I want you to fuck me. Like this. In the ass… ” When he said that part, his hand strayed again.
I tsked. “Don’t touch it,” I said. “I have other plans for that hard-on.”
I thrust over and over, holding his hips in my hands and guiding my cock deep into his body until he let out a sob that told me he’d reached the point of total submission. That sound was from a man dismantled and ready to receive his orders.
I pulled out and said, “Come here, Mack. Come take care of me.” I quickly unhooked the harness with shaking fingers and laid back. I spread my legs and watched him move toward me with that look on his face — that dazed and drunken look of a man who could come with a single touch.
He buried his face in my pussy with a helpless cry. His fingers drove into me. I was so wet he managed three. His tongue pressed my clitoris before he sucked. Then he alternated long, languorous drags and short, sharp nibbles. I arched up to meet him, desperate to come. I was desperate to get off, so I could finish what I’d planned.
He ate me like an animal, one big hand splayed on my belly as he pinned me to the bed, fucked me with his fingers and sucked me with his warm mouth.
I came with a loud cry, wishing the spasms would never end and that I could draw it out forever. But when my climax did pass, I pushed him roughly away and found my harness. My hands were shaking even worse.
“Help me,” I said.
He did. He helped me put my cock back on, and then I pushed him down on his back. “Legs up, Mack. Let me in.”
I’d never done it that way — face-to-face. I always took him from behind. So for our anniversary, one year of ass-fucking for my man, I wanted to take him face-to-face.
I ran the head of my cock along the small pink star of his ass. I watched his muscles twitch and shiver at the intrusion. I pressed harder so that he began to open and then applied just enough pressure to enter him with only the head.
I stayed that way as he panted underneath me. I watched the flex of his jaw and his neck as he tried to keep his cool. Then I levered myself over him and pushed harder, entering him.
I pressed my body to his and kissed him, thrusting my hips in short bursts as he cried out. “I like tasting my pussy on your lips,” I said.
He groaned. It was the sound of tortured pleasure.
“I like the smell of me on your face. I like the way you look when I fuck you.”
He gave a sound that was nearly a sob.
“I like the pretty sounds you make,” I said. I ground my hips so that I was trapping his cock between us. So that I was pushing him to the very last minute of his sanity.
I thrust once more, making it a good one, and then I pulled free of him and dragged my lips down his chest, his belly, his hips. Finally, I gave him what he needed. I seized his cock and sucked the tip. I shoved my fingers where my dick had been, burying two up to the top knuckle before I began to finger-fuck his ass.
Mack bucked under me as I drove my mouth all the way down to the base of him. And when I gave him a final, frantic suck before driving my tongue against the slippery slit in his cockhead, he said my name. One rough word. And then he came.
I watched his face as I lapped up his come. It was the best he’d ever tasted to me. But there was always next time. Next time might be even better.