Ann: The Married Years Ch. 06

"I see you're hungry," he kidded as he walked into their room, catching her with her head back and her tongue extended as she let his cum dribble from her fingertips.

She smiled, making a production out of it, figuring she might as well finish what she'd started.

"You caught me," she said in her sexiest voice, continuing to nibble at her fingers, not bothering to look his direction.

"Maybe I shouldn't have packed a lunch then."

He was carrying a silver tray, one they'd gotten as a wedding gift. On it was another wedding gift, a large tan Longaberger picnic basket. Tucked under his arm was the big horse blanket that she'd received as a present of sorts from her Aunt Helen, pulled from the same closet she'd hidden his anniversary gift.

The surprised smirk on her face made him smile as he set the tray on a table he'd set up next to the bed.

"When did he do that?" she wondered as she looked at the table, her hand covering her upper chest as the shock set in.

He pulled down the sheet, forcing her to move toward the head of the bed. He left just the fitted one in place, spreading the horse blanket over the mattress; he set the basket in the middle. Opening the lid, he pulled out a couple of plates and some napkins, before pulling out some freshly made sandwiches wrapped in plastic wrap.

"What are we doing?' she asked.

"We're having a picnic."

"Oh my God! Are you serious?"

Placing a small bag of chips on each plate, he sat down and motioned for her to join him on the blanket. "Of course," he smiled, removing two wine glasses and a bottle of merlot. He poured the wine, letting it breathe, the glasses waiting for them on the table.

"What are you waiting for?" he asked as he opened his sandwich. Ann stared back at him in disbelief.

Picking up her sandwich, she began to unwrap it, shaking her head. "I... I just can't get over this."

"Why not? You do this kind of thing to me all the time," he laughed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ann could still feel the wetness on her thighs, the trickle trailing from her pussy tickling her skin. She took another sip of her wine, before setting down the glass and getting back to the work at hand. Or more accurately, at... finger.

Neil had made them a delightful lunch, and they had a marvelous time just eating and talking. Again the avoided discussing anything sexual; they talked about their first year together, and reminisced about things they'd done and seen that weren't of an intimate nature. It was hard at first, since they were both still naked, which brought to mind so many erotic adventures that they'd shared. But eventually they got in the right frame of mind, and the stories seemed to flow naturally.

Once they'd finished eating, he moved the things off the bed, clearing space for them to lie on the blanket together and watch the sun pop into view from over the roofline, the brilliant rays heating up the room and their bodies. It felt good to bask in the natural light, the sunshine washing over their bare skin. And to be able to enjoy that feeling on a December afternoon had them thinking of things they'd done outside in their first year. Things that were definitely more erotic than what they had been talking about.

His cock started to rise just from the way she was recounting one of her favorite moments of exhibitionism and how it turned her on. They fed chocolates to each other, licking fingers along the way. But as much as his cock responded to what she'd been describing, he wasn't thinking about himself. He really hadn't all day. He was only thinking of Ann, and how he could give back to her for all the joy and love she'd given him.

Her orgasm was unbelievably intense; her passionate screams shaking the windows again as her hands gripped at his hair. He was incredible at pleasuring her. She began thinking of how many mind-altering orgasms he'd given her since they'd met that were just with his mouth. She couldn't help but recall the first time he'd eaten her in the back of his car, the culmination of an incredible evening they'd both come to call their 'prom night'.

But every time since, when he decided he was going to eat her, the results were magical, her orgasms so powerful they literally took her breath away. She almost couldn't stand the thought when he'd start, knowing what she was in for. He would take his time, teasing her, making her wait. It would be long and sometimes agonizing, the anticipation of where he would lick or bite or suck next driving her insane. He tested her patience in every way possible, her body wracked with conflicting emotions. He made the experience a personal one, wanting to show her what she was capable of sexually.

And those times he dedicated to loving her orally, it always... always ended with a powerful orgasm, the physically exhausting kind; sometimes there would be several. And that was the crux of her feelings whenever he'd start. When she'd met him, she didn't know that was even possible, never having had multiple orgasms before. She'd gone years of her adult life never experiencing one. He made them common, and he first did it with his mouth.

When he settled between her legs, and she knew from the look in his eyes that he wasn't leaving there anytime soon. A little spark lit inside her, making her wonder how big the climax was going to be this time, and how many there might end actually being.

Now it was her turn, the trickle of wetness between her legs a constant reminder that the bar had been set.

His cock lurched underneath her touch, and she tied not to giggle. She stopped, grabbing her wine glass, taking another sip before carefully placing it back on the table. He let out a whine of his own, he hands still holding the bars of the headboard where she told him he had to keep them. She looked at the strain in his biceps, his chest flexing as he gripped the metal with his strong hands, like he was about to pull the bed apart with them.

"Are you okay, baby?" she asked, the sexiness in her voice making his cock flinch again.

"Unnnh... yes," he moaned.

It wasn't long after he'd finished eating her that he crawled up next to her panting body, his index finger toying with her clit. She was so sensitized from what he'd just done to her with his tongue that his touch set her off again. And again. He'd let her come down, and then he'd started massaging her exposed clit, traipsing little circles over it. And she'd cum, her hips lurching upward, her legs flailing like a rag doll.

He kidded her about making her cum with just a finger, doing it four different times until she begged him to stop, finally snapping her legs shut when she literally couldn't take anymore.

"I knew I should have tied you down," he joked, kissing her on the cheek at the time.

She turned her head, her eyes wild. She kissed him hard and flipped him onto his back. "Hands on the headboard, mister!" she said calmly, but direct.

"Why... what are you going to do to me?" he smiled, yet reaching up nonetheless.

"I'm going to show you you're not the only one that can make someone cum with one finger."

She began her own long, tedious game of sexual stimulation. Only instead of using her tongue, she used only her index finger. He was already hard, his rigid shaft sticking up at an angle from his groin. She had him spread his legs, and she got between them on her chest and stomach, laying her head on his right thigh so she could use her right hand.

Running her fingertip along his urethra, she traveled the length of his shaft, going from his balls all the way to the very tip of his head, before returning. Her touch was light, just grazing the soft, sensitive skin, at least at first. She adjusted her speed, sometimes going faster then slowing to almost a stop. She'd also change the pressure, becoming more firm, then going back to barely touching it. She would even use her nail occasionally, dragging the perfectly manicured edge up to the tip.

He knew early on he was in trouble. She loved playing with his cock, her fetish for it well established. But it had always been a handjob before, with maybe some oral thrown in. This time, it was just her finger, and it was incredible how it made him feel.

Precum began flowing, a steady stream pouring out of the tip of his cock and pooling on his abdomen. There was a little strand of it that seemed permanently attached between the two. He'd been near an orgasm three times, his cock starting to jump on its own, as if it were craving a harder touch. She'd back off, sipping her wine, enjoying the way it twitched and moved.

She began making small little circles at the very tip, first in one direction and then the other. She'd vary her pace and her pressure; watching his balls move in their sack. She would exhale on them, his groans coinciding with the way his cock would jolt upward. And every time there would be a big spastic jerk, she'd pull her finger away, waiting for it to stop before resuming her torturous fun.

The wetness between her legs tingled. Some was still the residual effect from cumming so hard and so often earlier. But she was still turned on, finding immense satisfaction in teasing his thick cock. When she ran her nail over it once more, she thought he was going to come out of his skin, his reaction making her clit pulse with excitement.

She considered fucking him right then and there, but he wouldn't have lasted in the state he was in. No, he was too close, she thought. Realizing she wouldn't be satisfied if she didn't get fucked one more time, she decided to make him cum now, in hopes that he'd have time to recover before the night was over. With it being late afternoon, she knew that was likely if she got him off sooner rather than later.

Concentrating on the head again, she drew those little circles on the tip of his cock, right at the edge of the where the mushroom cap started along the urethra. She knew that was the most sensitive part, at least from the knowledge she'd gained playing with cocks over the years. She couldn't recall just how many men she'd made cum with her hand. More than she'd like to admit, perhaps, what with it being a fetish of hers. She considered it an art, a subject she studied and enjoyed, and she took pride in perfecting her techniques.

She never worried about what Neil might think; how he might be intimidated by the expertise she had when it came to stroking or sucking a shaft. After all, he was certainly an artist in his own right when it came to cunningulus, and he didn't learn to be that incredible by himself. He obviously had been with a number of women to be able to master it like he had. They each had a past, and the experience they'd gained made them better lovers for their spouse.

His hands gripped the bars tighter, his chest rising and falling as his breathing became more rapid. The desperate sounds he was making made her quiver with excitement, knowing his orgasm was very close. She considered just letting him cum, taking her finger away and watching him explode. But she didn't want to ruin it.

She'd done that to other men before, knowing it was a cruel way to for them to orgasm, the experienced shortchanged by the lack of contact during ejaculation. It was part of being in control of their orgasm, and in the times she'd done it, she'd been in a dominating frame of mind, so to speak. It went back to her history with the men she dated in California... those that put themselves and their needs before hers when it came to pleasure. She learned to read them during a date, knowing what kind of lover they would be before they'd ever end up in bed.

She'd become jaded, falling into bed with some guy, only to end up making him cum and be left out of the party. She loved fucking, but there was nothing worse that letting a guy do that and she didn't get an orgasm out of it. So she changed her approach, hinting early and often in a date with a new guy that she would give, and give big time, but she expected something in return as well.

There were several times that she'd gotten the vibe from a guy that he wasn't catching on; that he was only out for himself and he viewed her as a sure thing. Early on after she moved to the West Coast, that would have been true, and she'd end up sexually and emotionally frustrated. But as she became more self-confident and experienced, she learned.

One of her lessens was to never let a guy pick her up, always insisting that they meet at a bar or restaurant. She didn't want to get trapped in situation where she had no escape. If things worked out, she would follow him to his place; or on the rare occasion, he would follow to hers. But she wanted an out.

Yet she rarely just walked away from a date, even when it became obvious that the guy had turned out to be a selfish pig. Maybe it was payback for all the ones that had got her worked up only to let her down, but she took it upon herself to balance the scales a bit. Instead of fucking them, she'd take out their cock somewhere, usually in their car at wherever they'd meet, knowing a hook up would end in disappointment. Taking control, she would begin practicing her techniques. It was almost as if she was leading them on. Maybe she was in a way. But she was going to deal with them on her terms.

So it was that she'd learned to bring a man to the very edge, making him beg for her to make him cum when he couldn't take it anymore. Most of the time she would, only she'd take him to the limit, and when he'd start to explode, she'd remove her hand, snickering to herself as they whined about cumming without the extra stimulation to make it more powerful. It was emasculating, in a way, which was sort of the point. She even recalled twice jacking a guy off to the point of orgasm, only to climb out of the car and drive away, leaving him there with his cock throbbing. Looking back, it wasn't something she was proud of, but at the time she knew it was deserved.

As she toyed with Neil, she knew she could never do that to him. He deserved more. He deserved everything she could give him. After all, that's what he'd just done for her; what he always did for her. If ever there was a man that was unselfish in bed, she'd found him, and she was never ever letting him go.

That said she wanted to watch his spunk to fly from his cock; wanting him to know just how much pleasure she could give him with a single finger. Well, a finger and maybe her mouth, just a little bit.

She started running her fingertip the entire length again, his cock pulsing, jumping violently. The first spurt dribbled out of the tip as he announced he was about to cum. Leaning forward, she sucked at his sack, her lips placed perfectly between his heavy balls. She felt his cock begin jerking, knowing he was shooting from the way it moved and the way he yelled. When it started to slow, she wrapped her dainty fingers around his shaft and started jerking him hard and fast as she licked his balls, feeling the power of his cock as it went off again like a cannon a second time, just moments after the first.

She lovingly cleaned up the mess she'd made, starting by sucking his sensitive head, making him beg her to stop. The prickly feeling was like needles poking into his skin, and he knew it was payback for what he'd done to her clit. Only he couldn't snap his legs shut. He couldn't even find the strength to let go of the headboard and push her away. Instead, his hips bucked upward as he tried to wiggle from beneath her.

Her tongue lapped up his cum, and his precum, savoring the taste as she ate her reward. She remembered how slick his face had been when he crawled up to kiss her after eating her so wonderfully. Doing the same, she shared a sticky, cum filled kiss with him, letting him taste himself, loving that he'd do that for her.

"God, you are so sexy," she purred, thinking of how all the things he did that amazed her.

"So are you, Ann," he panted, kissing her on the forehead. "I can't believe you just made me cum twice like that."

"Mmm... my baby had his first multiple orgasm," she cooed.

"And you did it with just a finger!"

"I know," she giggled, capturing his cock with her soft fingers, stroking it, keeping it hard. "You can let go of the headboard now, if you want."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She was lying on top of him, the two of them fighting to catch their breath. The light from the candles in the corners of the otherwise darkened room flickered against the glass of the windows, making the walls seem to move. Or maybe that was from their chests beating so rapidly.

He moved the satin sheet from her shoulders, running his hands along her bare back. She hugged his torso with her calves as she moved slightly, her breasts now near his face. He licked at them, suckling on her nipples, bringing a soft moan from her lips. His thickness had left her, the sudden emptiness making her jealous of how she'd felt just moments before when she'd been filled and stretched.

Her pussy was hovering over his deflating cock, and he felt his load slowly dripping down over it. He was surprised that he'd had so much cum left in his balls after what they'd shared earlier in the day. Then again, he always seemed to cum a lot, and she always seemed to bring out the best in him when it came to sex, or any other part of their life.

She loved how it felt when he came inside her. And she loved how his cum oozed out of her warm, used pussy. It didn't make up for the vacancy she had in her cunt, but it somehow fulfilled her in other ways. She not only felt like a woman as she pressed her body against his masculine frame, she felt like a wife. His wife... and she belonged there.

"You're making another mess," he joked as another big glob of cum landed on his half-hard prick.

"I'll clean it up. I promise," she cooed, too busy enjoying how he was mouthing her breasts to move at the moment.

"You better, or I'm not going to give you your anniversary present."

"What?" she asked. Pressing her hands against his chest to push herself up, the silky sheet slid down her skin, piling up on his thighs.

"I said... if you don't clean up the mess you made, I won't give you your anniversary present."

"I heard that. You got me a present?"

"Of course. It's our anniversary."

"But you already got me a card, and chocolates," she said, before looking over her shoulder to see the vase of roses on her dresser. "And flowers!"

"I know," he said smugly, just like he had earlier in the day. "Now be a good wife and clean me up."

She did, excitedly. She would have done that without being asked. And she would have been excited, even if it was him ordering her to lick up his cum. She loved the taste... and being told what to do. But he hadn't treated her like that all day. In fact, he said he wanted her to be a 'good wife', something she found thrilling, because he emphasized how he wanted to be with Ann.

When she finished sucking him clean, and licking up the last remnants of his load she'd dribbled onto his skin, she sat back on her thighs, her head high as she smacked her lips.

"Is that good enough baby?"

"Yes. Come here and give me a hug," he motioned, he hands resting behind his head as he lay there waiting.

She fell to his chest, and he rolled her over onto her back, hugging her tightly. He deftly reached to his left, curling his arm, pulling out an envelope from underneath the mattress.

"What's this?' she asked as he rolled to the side and handed it to her.

"Your present. Someone once told me that the proper gift for the first year of marriage is paper."

She sat up and opened it, pulling out another envelope, which she flipped open. "Neil... what is this?" she asked, her eyes blinking like she didn't recognize what she was holding.

"It's an airline ticket," he smiled as he sat up as well.