Ann: The Married Years Ch. 19

He heard the door slam as he finished yelling, her car racing out of the garage as she backed out. He was fuming, unable to get what she'd said out of his head.

"I can't believe she called me impatient!"

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

He regretted yelling that last line out. Well, both of them really, but he was particularly upset that he'd let his anger spill over to the point that he literally referenced what had been on his mind for so long.

First of all, it was stupid to get upset about not getting sex to begin with. She was right; he'd acted like a childish jerk to say the least. He had the greatest wife in the world; one that went out of her way to make his sexual life incredible at every turn. Hell, she'd just recently set up the amazing week they'd spent with Tina. Arguing about not getting laid when she went out of her way more often than not to keep him satisfied wasn't fair at all.

He also knew he didn't have the right to insist she submit to him. While he missed the erotic nuances that came with Annabelle, she'd offered him more than enough other sexual avenues to explore. He felt guilty as hell for the next hour or so. His only solace was that his final comment was a bit obscure and she was so busy reacting angrily, she likely didn't even know what he meant by it. That's if she even heard it. She was slamming the door as it came out.

He didn't take a cold shower. He didn't jack off either. He was a bit sexually frustrated, but he was using the feeling it gave him as fuel, driving him to get at least one of the remodeling tasks done before he had to get ready for work.

Remarkably the delivery truck had actually shown up right on time and they unloaded everything he ordered into the garage. That would be the first clue that he was up to something, since there was no way to hide all of it. All he could do at that point was try and get something started so she'd understand what was going on.

He owed it to her at that point. He felt bad for making her angry and sending her off to work that way. She was likely having a horrible day, which was pretty much all his fault.

Checking all of the items, knowing he had a lot of work ahead, he looked for the best option. He'd never be able to tear out the sink and vanity top or the current backsplash with the time he had before work. And removing the tile and the tub would be a day in itself. There was really only one option. With there being no changes to the floor or the walls, he could replace the toilet that day, leaving everything else alone. She'd see it and then she'd know what he'd been up to all day. She'd know what his plans were that kept him from meeting up with her at the store.

Grabbing some tools, he headed to the bathroom, turning off the water to the current toilet. Checking his watch, he flipped over onto his back to loosen some bolts. "This really shouldn't take that long."

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

Ann was having a horrible day. At the same time, it was one of their best days in sales ever. The Humpday promotions they'd been having every Wednesday had been a huge success, and with the exception of the weekends when more traffic would naturally come through the store, it was almost always their best sales day of the week. And for whatever reason, the Humpday Goes Leather event had far exceeded any of their wildest dreams.

The store had been busy since they'd opened and Ann was stunned at the number of people that were taking advantage of the sale on bondage wear, as well as the assorted gear that went with that specific sexual bent. The shop had only recently started selling items of that nature. It was another of Ann's ideas, and it took some convincing on her part to get her bosses to take the chance.

Mary Ann listened to Ann's sales pitch, which included a rather detailed admission that she enjoyed the occasional foray into the world of bondage and submission. Mary Ann was intrigued but she was still unsure, thinking it was risky. She mulled the concept in her head for a while, uncertain if it was the right product line for her store. It was actually her mother Camilla that finally talked her into it, reminding her that Ann had been right about everything she'd ever suggested up to that point and they should trust her instincts.

As it turned out, the problem wasn't having the products in the store... it was not having enough of them.

Ann couldn't remember a time when she'd had to write out so many backorder slips. The slips would guarantee the sale pricing would still be honored whenever they'd run out of an item. But she had a feeling they stuff would be flying off the shelves and the racks even when the sale was over. To that point, she'd been on the phone several times during the day with their supplier, upping the next order quantities. She had to make sure they got enough in to not only cover the backorders but to also make sure they had more to sell in the future.

As frustrating as that was, it was a good problem to have. What was setting her mood was the way she left Neil. Even though she was angry about what he'd said, she understood where it came from. She felt guilty about leaving him as she had. She'd been so excited about the way she was going to dress up for work, she totally lost track of time. In fact, she forgot he'd even said he was awake, putting so much focus on her makeup to make sure she looked the part the way she wanted that she all but ignored him.

When he alluded that he might jack off it hurt and she lashed out. Once she was into what was an incredibly busy day at work, she felt worse about it. She hadn't even had time to call home to say she was sorry.

To make matters worse he'd actually changed his mind and had shown up at Henrietta's to apologize. That surprised her and it made the hurt worse, thinking she'd been the insensitive one. That he made the effort to drive all the way there just to say he was sorry in person made her heart sink.

He even asked if she wanted to follow up on the offer she made earlier. Knowing the idea of the two of them going upstairs to use the old room still kept like it had been in the days the house was still a brothel was a huge turn on for her, he suggested it might be the perfect way for them to make up.

Instead she had to tell him she wasn't going to be able to get away. The sale was causing havoc in the store. They were too shorthanded and she was in charge. She kicked herself for ever bringing it up in the first place. If she would have been thinking more clearly, she would have known that with missing two people on the day of a sale she wasn't going to have that much free time; let alone enough to take him upstairs and fuck him properly. It was yet another emotional punch in her gut. She wanted to, more than anything. And from the looks of the bulge in his shorts, she could tell he wanted to as well.

Feeling rebuffed a second time, he started to leave quietly, not bothering to kiss her when she asked, saying he didn't want to ruin the image she'd worked so hard that morning to project.

"A Dominatrix wouldn't allow herself to be kissed, Ann. It defeats the entire purpose of her existence."

That stung a bit, but she knew he wasn't lashing out. He was being practical. Yes, he said he accepted her apology, just like she had his. He told her he loved her. Still it felt like there was a huge disconnect between them; more than just the fact that they'd been unable to hook up sexually. It had only been three days and it seemed so much worse than that, both in duration and aggravation. They both felt it.

Rushing over as he left, she followed him outside, catching him on the front porch.

"Neil?"

"Yeah," he said as he turned on the steps, a wistful smile appearing.

"W... what did you mean at the house?"

"What are you talking about? I wanted to have sex, you didn't hear me correctly. End of story. What else is there to say?"

"Not that. What did you mean... about it being... your turn?"

He looked at her outfit and the way she stood there on the porch. She looked incredible, and the red wig was only adding to the effect. His cock was still throbbing because of it. Her question took his mind off of that, however. He was at a loss as to how to further explain what was bothering him. In truth he wasn't really sure anymore. He thought it was more about the sex than anything else. He didn't want it to be about her not being Annabelle so he pushed that thought back into his brain, hoping it would just go away.

Shaking his head, he sighed. "Don't worry about it. I was just angry and I shouldn't have been. Like I said, I had no right to be. I'll see you tonight."

"O... okay. I love you, baby."

"I love you too, Ann."

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

"This thing is heavy," he said as he pulled the old toilet through the backyard on a two-wheeled handcart he'd purchased a few years before.

If Neil had a fault it was that he was a bit of a packrat in some ways, but he'd become an organized one. Ann was such a stickler for everything having a place that it had rubbed off on him. Yet not to the point that he could throw something away that was still in good shape. It happened often when he did some project around the house. Case in point being the cabinet he'd removed in the kitchen to make room for the dishwasher. It was still perfectly functional. It just wouldn't fit in the kitchen any longer. Instead of throwing it away he put a new top on it and put in the garage, turning it into a work station.

He did that kind of thing all the time, refusing to throw away items that might come of some use sometime down the line. It was amazing just how many times that philosophy proved to be a lifesaver. He was a guy that prided himself in figuring out ways to make things work, using what he had around him. He called it MacGyvering, modeling it after one of his favorite television shows and the way the main character got out of jam after jam by using the things he had available to him.

Of course, it was hard to believe that there'd be some future use for a toilet other than what it was designed to do. But there he was lugging the big, cumbersome object through his yard, taking it to the crawlspace.

He was just unlocking the door; one he'd modified with hinges so it would swing open instead of having to take the entire thing off like it had been designed, when one of his neighbors down the hill called out to him.

"You're installing a toilet in your crawlspace?" she asked as she tended to her garden in the back of her condo some fifty yards away.

"Uh, no, I'm remodeling. But I just don't have the heart to throw it out," he laughed.

Grabbing a hook and placing it through one of the many heavy duty eyelets he had screwed into the floor beams of the crawlspace above his head, he moved one of the pulleys he had down there. It was another example of his unusual ingenuity, using leftover items to make things easier. In this case he'd devised a portable wench system to lift big items over the two-foot cinderblock wall of the crawlspace entry.

The door itself wasn't that big...three feet wide and four-foot-high, but the space underneath the house was huge, at least on the end where the door was located. So big that you could easily stand up in it. With the garage being a one car variety and the house having very little closet space, they used the area underneath the house for additional storage.

Ann had tons of Rubbermaid bins down there, all color coded and neatly labeled, filled inside with out-of-season clothes that had been carefully packaged to withstand the dampness of the crawlspace. She also had other things stored in them, like holiday decorations, mementos, shoes, and such. There was an exercise rowing machine that he'd bought that never saw much use, a couple of old bicycles, and a canoe he was storing for a friend. There was even a huge roll of carpet left over from when the house was built. Neil had wrapped it in plastic and put it near the back wall, just in case he might ever need it.

The other main item down there was the water softener. It was one of the first things they purchased after they took possession of the house. Having lived in the Shenandoah valley growing up, he knew of the high limestone content in the local water supply. It was preventive maintenance as far as he was concerned. Without one they'd be replacing fixtures, the water heater and the washing machine way before they wore out from use.

That was one of the other reasons for the wench system. He purchased the salt for the softener in fifty-pound bags to save money, but they were unwieldy to lift into the crawlspace, and just as difficult to dump them inside the reservoir. Instead of throwing out his back, he threw his brain into an easier way to lift them. He was doing the same with the toilet.

He carefully lifted it with the wench and easily maneuvered it into the crawlspace, thinking of the right place to set it down. It was then that he got to thinking about what his unknown neighbor had just said to him as she tended her garden.

"Putting a toilet in the crawlspace," he laughed as he set it down close to the water softener. "Who in their right mind would install a toilet in a crawlspace?"

He removed the harness; a series of black nylon straps that could be placed on things of various shapes to lift them, including the big bags of water softener pellets. He used the straps because they could be adapted to whatever he was hoping to lift. The pellet bags were easy to do. The system was put to the test by the toilet, and it passed with flying colors as he moved it around rather effortlessly.

As he removed the last of the straps he pulled at the heavy rope, lifting the harness back to the ceiling to get it out of the way. Tying it off on a hook to keep it in place, he stared as it swung back and forth. Then he stared back at the toilet, a wicked grin appearing on his face.

"I'll tell you who installs a fucking toilet in a crawlspace. I do!"

With that he jumped outside, closing and locking the door before racing up to the garage with his cart. Putting it away he ran to the kitchen. Grabbing his trusty legal pad, he began sketching out what he'd need. It was not unlike the list he'd come up with of what he would require to create a new bathroom for Ann. Suddenly the project had taken on a whole new scope. He'd not only be doing her bathroom, he was going to create a playground of sorts. One she'd kidded about ever since they bought the house.

"This is going to take the rest of the three weeks," he said as he wrote down things on his naughty list. "I wonder if I have time to go to the store before I go to work."

Rushing to take a shower, he let out a giddy laugh.

"I can't believe I'm actually going to make her a dungeon!"

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

Ann left the store just after six, exhausted from being on her feet all day. As she drove home, she began daydreaming of what it would have been like to have worked at Henrietta's in a different decade. It was a fantasy she called upon often, usually when she was overly stimulated. It started this time when Neil had actually shown up earlier that afternoon wanting to take her upstairs to the one room Mary Ann had left unchanged. Ann sighed. The idea of letting Neil use her much like the dozens of women who had worked there during its colorful history as a brothel made her pulse quicken. She couldn't get it out of her head.

"I wonder if I'd be this tired if I was on my back all day," she mused, imagining selling her body instead of lingerie. Then again, dressed as she was, she likely would have been on her feet just as much, doing who knows what to one of her clients. "Was there even such thing as a Dominatrix back then?"

She didn't know the answer and frankly she didn't care at the moment. All she knew was they were around currently in the novice variety that she was selling to, and there were a lot more of them than she realized. The bondage wear sale had been a hit, including her outfit. She had dozens of women compliment her on it, including several that wanted to purchase one of their own.

Then there were the men. They'd almost always wander in with their significant other. But even if they were alone the result was the same. They were leering at her as she worked. It was such a rush to be stared at like a sex object and her pussy had been wet most of the afternoon.

Even as that thought ran through her head, she knew the eyes that really set her on fire were Neil's. The look in them when he walked across the store toward her was one of pure lust and she stopped in her tracks when she saw him approaching. Even after he apologized, needlessly as far as she was concerned, she could still feel the heat in the way they were gazing at her. There was something about how he stared that made her weak in the knees; as if he very well might just bend her over the counter by the register and take her there.

His gaze was confident and powerful; the very essence of someone that knew what he wanted. It was full of desire and aggression, yet reserved in its countenance, showing just how composed he was. His stare was masculine, if there was such a thing. Even in his apology, she saw in his eyes the look of a man in control of everything around him. Inner strength and self-assurance were traits she always found incredibly attractive, and Neil conveyed those qualities with a simple stare, to the point it made her wet with anticipation of what he might do to her. Or in that instance... what he might make her do.

"Damn I wish I could have fucked him. Or at least sucked him off," she sighed, her fingers going to her crotch, feeling the dampness between her legs.

She sighed again when she pulled into the driveway, seeing the empty space where he would usually park his car; a stark reminder that they were working different hours and they wouldn't be seeing each other any time soon. Hitting the garage button, she waited for the door to open. She even started to pull in out of habit, until she saw the floor filled with a big pile of things covered with a large blue tarp.

"What the..." she said as she parked in front, walking into the garage past the stuff that was there.

She couldn't see what was under the covering, and he'd placed heavy items on the edges to hold it in place. Whatever was underneath was meant to be hidden and that piqued her interest. When she went into the house itself, she was puzzled by the light being left on in the hall bathroom. It was odd as Neil was never careless like that.

He knew her curiosity. Using the light as a beacon to call her, she followed, moving slowly across the carpet as if she were afraid of what might be lurking inside. She peered around the corner, her mouth falling open as she saw the beautiful new toilet; a card in a red envelope on the lid.

She almost started crying when she saw it. "Oh my God... he must have worked his ass off to do this today. And he STILL came to see me," she said as she grabbed a tissue from the counter, dabbing at her misty eyes.

Picking up the envelope, she opened it.

Anna,

I know you're likely still wearing your Dominatrix outfit. You looked stunning in it this morning. I wish I would have taken a moment to appreciate the effort you put into it. If you're still in it, and I know you are, I recognize what it represents. If you're wearing it, and again I know you are, it would imply that you're still in the mood to give rather than receive.

But as you can see by what's bolted to the floor, you're going to have to accept that those roles can be reversed anytime I want them to be. They have been.

To start, I'm giving something to you; the bathroom you've wanted for so long. I've started, appropriately, with a black toilet. It's working. Feel free to use it as your throne if you want, but for tonight only. I'll be working on this for you while we're apart for the rest of these three weeks. You'll need to be patient, as it will take me that long to finish it for you.