Ann: The Married Years Ch. 40

© 2021, All rights reserved -- mimaster

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The silence in the car was killing him. Ann sat stoically in the passenger seat; a poised coolness about her that he found unusually titillating. She was focused, her calm demeanor one of a woman totally at ease in her decision.

He wasn't sure at first of the reason for her quietness, although he could speculate. He ruled out nerves early on, the look of confidence on her face when she came back from dropping off Owen at the Wallace home nearly bowling him over. That feeling increased tenfold when she stepped into the living room ninety minutes later, having spent that time getting ready for the evening. Her head was slightly tilted to the right as she multitasked, walking as she put a large hoop earring into the hole of her left lobe.

"Holy fuck," he murmured as he got a look at the outfit she'd chosen to wear for the night. At least, until she'd take it off during the party. "I... I see Camilla's outdone herself," he finally managed to get out.

There was no need to reply verbally; satisfied that she'd just gotten his unwavering seal of approval. Her wicked grin and sexy wink sufficed as she flipped her hair to the other side to put on the other gold earring. "Okay, I'm ready," was all she said, her naughty game face already in place.

"Do you want me to get you a coat?" he asked politely.

It was a logical question. After all, it was late January, and it had gotten as low as eleven degrees the night before. But it had dawned a warmer day, the temperature rising into the mid-thirties, and it was going to stay in the twenties overnight. Not that that was warm by any stretch. And not that it mattered to her. Personal comfort really didn't enter into the equation, and she cocked an eyebrow.

"Just warm up the car for me, baby. I'll be fine." He couldn't help but ask if she was sure; he was conditioned to look out for her well-being. Patting him on the cheek, she moved closer, a hand resting over his heart. Instead of kissing him, she flicked her tongue across his lips; a loud groan escaping his chest in response. "There's no need to bring a coat. I won't be wearing clothes on the way home anyway... I'll be wearing cum. Remember?"

She squeezed his shaft through his jeans, feeling it jerk. It pleased her that he was already hard, most certainly from the sight of what she was wearing, and she giggled at his reaction to her comment. He nearly ran into the door as he scrambled to get out to his car to start it.

Yet it still came as some surprise how eerily quiet it was between them once they left the house. She wasn't pensive at all, fully aware of where they were going and what they were about to do... what she was about to do. If anything, she looked determined as she sat with her legs crossed, her hands neatly folded on her lap.

He pulled off the interstate, turning onto a state road that would eventually take them to Carol and Barry's house. But first he whipped the sporty red Nissan into a gas station.

"I'll just be a minute," he remarked when he parked in front of a pump.

"I'll do it," she said, quickly unbuckling.

"What? Why?"

"The tank is on my side," she replied, hopping out before he could stop her. Yet she waltzed around the front of the vehicle, stopping at his window, motioning for him to lower it. "We're paying cash tonight," she winked, holding out her hand for a twenty.

He watched in amazement as she strutted toward the convenience store that was a part of the gas station. "God she's incredible," he laughed, shaking his head, knowing the guy inside was about to get an unexpected surprise.

When she walked out she was beaming, heading straight to Neil's window a second time. "It appears we're getting our gas for free tonight," she smiled as she returned the bill.

"And why would that be?"

She replied with a playful shrug, "Apparently he approves of how I'm dressed."

It was that outfit that was making not only his cock throb incessantly, but likely the one belonging to the attendant inside as well. Camilla, the co-owner and head seamstress at Henrietta's House, the upscale lingerie and clothing shop where Ann worked, had created another daring, sexy ensemble at her request. It was obvious that's where it came from, not just because she worked there, but because he'd seen her carry the distinctive yellow bag of the store into the bedroom when she went to get ready; the same bag that was now on the floor of the car next to her small purse.

Ann was wearing what would best be described as a tube dress, and it clung to her curves like it was molded to her skin. The strapless design had two hems, the top coming just above her breasts; the bottom extending just past her hips. But the most spectacular feature of the dress was that it was made from a light golden material that was literally see-through. It hid nothing, showing everything she had to offer underneath, from her dark areolas and thick, rock hard nipples, to her blonde landing strip above her pussy... and everything in between.

She'd gone without underwear totally, not bothering with some of the barely-there items she'd worn to previous parties; the half bras that would hold up her breasts, or the pieces of elastic that formed the illusion of a G-string. Instead she went slightly more traditional, at least for someone attempting to dress rather slutty. She had on red fishnet stockings and a red garter belt, along with a pair of matching four-inch spiked heels.

Then there were the fashion accessories. She was wearing another choker; this one a bit more risqué than the one she wore on her weekend anniversary as a Bond girl. First it was red instead of black, to go with her stockings and heels. And it was made of leather, a gold buckle in back keeping it snug against her elegant neck. In front there was a shiny golden ring, very similar to the hoops in her ears. It had the feel of a collar, while looking more stylish.

She also wore two garters, one on each thigh, made of material that matched the color of her dress. Peering at her through the passenger side windows while she pumped the gas, standing there like she was wearing a casual outfit on a balmy summer day, it struck him. The colors were exactly the same as what her favorite team would be wearing during the game later than night. She'd taken a page from Martina's script, having watched her dress in an authentic Dallas Cowboys cheerleader costume the previous two years. But Ann was putting a whole new X-rated spin on being a cheerleader, all in the name of her beloved 49ers.

She stood outside the car in the fading light of the afternoon, ignoring the elements, even going so far as to wash the windshield, giving Neil and anyone that might be looking a show in the process. It was then that he noticed the 49er pendant, about the size of a half-dollar, albeit in an oval shape, dangling from the ring on the front of the collar.

When she finished with the gas, she sat calmly in her seat, crossing her legs as they'd been before, letting the warmth of the heater wash over her.

"So... was he cute?" he chuckled.

"Who?"

"You know who I mean... the cashier inside the store. Was he cute?"

"Very. I kind of feel sorry for him though. He's going to miss the game."

"How do you know that?"

"I asked if he was going to watch it. He told me he's here until two in the morning and he'll miss the game."

"I don't think he cares now. Not after seeing you."

"I suppose," she shrugged, a hint of pride in her voice.

"Well, I can't believe you did that."

"I've done more than that at a gas station," she responded quickly. "Remember Wyoming?"

It came back to him in a flash; their weeklong trip driving from California to Indiana, stopping along the way to share sexual adventures that would become erotic memories for the rest of their lives. The one she was referring to was somewhere just outside of Cheyenne, the two of them having stopped for gas on their way to the cabin in Colorado. The theme of the trip that day had been Neil learning how to handle Ann sexually; how to 'make' her do things.

She'd talked for hours of how much the idea of not having control turned her on, and he was in the process of figuring out just how to do that. It culminated in the wild night in the wooded resort high in the mountains of Estes Park, where she actually submitted to him. It was their first experimentation with bondage, and it ended with her official transformation into Annabelle, a part of her sexual personality that she'd willingly explore many times thereafter. That wasn't lost on him as he glanced in her direction, the red choker adorning her neck suddenly looking more like a collar in his mind.

The episode at the gas station some two thousand miles away replayed in his mind, triggering a response that he hadn't anticipated. She'd been just as playful, climbing out of the car wearing just his white dress shirt, and barely at that. It took a moment for him to read her signals; in fact, she'd become so exasperated that she had to stop and actually confront him about it, telling him bluntly what she was hoping for in the politest way she could muster. He responded to her constructive criticism by resetting the scene, having them start over with him taking control of her, and their night.

"I remember making you open your shirt. And I remember fingering you out in the open."

"I remember being so turned on I couldn't stand it. And I remember you not letting me cum until that night."

"Is that the reason for the choker?" he said just as directly as she'd been that day, checking traffic before pulling back onto the highway.

"Happy coincidence," she answered, reaching into the bag near her feet, pulling out an envelope. "But who knows. We'll see where tonight leads."

It suddenly all made sense. He'd inadvertently set the stage for what just happened, telling her when she'd gone to get ready that she needed to leave enough time so they could stop to get gas. He knew it would take her quite a while. It almost always did when she was preparing herself to go out; even more so when it was for their annual naughty get together with their friends. He was sure she'd spent some of that time thinking about what she intended to wear and the opportunities it would present. Naturally, their fun in Wyoming had eventually sprung to her mind.

He didn't want to leave anything to chance. Not with the memory she'd referenced, and knowing what the envelope contained. While he wasn't sure how the night would play out at the party, it was ridiculously obvious that she'd used the incident on their trip as fuel. If he'd set the stage for it by simply informing her of the need to stop on the way, she'd done the same with what she'd just done at the gas station. She was in a playful mood on a night that was undoubtedly going to be sexually charged.

It would have been criminal if he didn't take advantage of the message that to him she was so clearly sending. He hadn't gotten it at first that time in Wyoming. In fact, he was clueless, which was why she'd had to stop in frustration so she could bluntly tell him what she wanted; even what she was expecting of him. But five years later, he'd indeed learned to read between her lines.

"It's going to lead wherever I want it to lead, Anna," he stated, his tone leaving no doubt he was now in charge of her, and her night.

While she held her composure, a shiver ran up her spine, the wetness between her legs increasing just from the power of his presence. Her night had just been transformed, much like the one she'd spent in the Rocky Mountain wilderness. He hadn't called her Annabelle, but she certainly felt like her at the moment. In truth, it never seemed likely he'd take her that far; but that he could, and that he might, had her on edge. Pulling the paper from the envelope she was holding, she opened it. She really couldn't see what was written in the passing lights along the darkening road, but she didn't need to. She'd read it so many times she'd practically memorized Carol's long, handwritten invitation to the party.

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Carol and Barry Morrison would like to cordially invite you to the Sixth Annual House of Shade Super Bowl Slut party.

January 29th, 1995

The House of Shade Estate

Kickoff is scheduled for 6:20 PM. We request all guests to arrive by 5:45 PM to attend the pre-party meeting that will be held prior to the festivities. Sluts are expected to arrive by 5:15 PM to go over the rules for this year's event.

Hi everyone! Now that you've been formally invited, let's get to the fun! I hope you all are looking forward to this year's party as much as Barry and I. It seems with each gathering, the event itself becomes more exciting. We love how this has evolved year after year, and we can't wait to see what this game has in store.

With that said, there has already been a new wrinkle to this year's edition of the party that I want to share with you. As many of you may know, all of our official sluts have allegiances to the NFC teams we root for each year. While I am a diehard Redskins fan, along with Beth and Yvonne, Olivia proved her loyalty to the Giants during our second party, and thus, the Super Bowl sluts were born.

The last three seasons, the right to go to the Super Bowl from our favorite conference has been decided between two teams; ones that are near and dear to two of our original sluts.

Ann showed her colors at our inaugural party, rooting her beloved 49ers to victory. It was her playful spirit and revealing outfit that challenged Martina and me to step up our game that night, although it could also have been the Jack talking. After all, the shots of whiskey we were taking for each San Francisco touchdown had us half-drunk by halftime (remember, they scored 8 in the game!)

With that kind of a blowout, the tradition of stripping in response of a score began as a way to keep the party interesting. Martina was the first to blaze that trail, and I was more than happy to follow, but it was Ann that boldly pushed us that night, ending up nearly naked for all of our pleasure to celebrate a 49er victory. The last two years we've all witnessed how Martina has literally 'cheered' for her Cowboys.

I think it's safe to say that while we had collectively done some fun and naughty things up to that point, including the group embracing and living up to the name 'slut 'during the Redskins victory a few years ago, Martina has raised the bar for all of us as far as our sexual escapades are concerned.

In light of the way the focus shifted to spotlight one slut over the others if their team is in the game, it's been discovered that the competitive nature within our group is not unlike those of the teams we root for. Martina changed that focus, but we can't forget she did sit out a year out of respect for her team, choosing not to root for her rival. But Ann is just as loyal to her team. With the Cowboys and 49ers meeting for the third consecutive year to see who would go to the Super Bowl, the NFC championship game became more personal for them, and the result was a wager.

The stakes of that wager will be discussed during the pre-game meeting. Suffice it to say that this year's party has the potential to be quite different. Because of that, I'm asking for us all to be prepared for a night of unprecedented fun. Gentlemen, it's up to you, but it might be wise to leave the underwear at home. Ladies, that's not an option. Wear what you wish up top, but the attire for the night is strictly short skirts and no panties... unless of course it's that unfortunate time of the month.

As for the rest of the details, we'll discuss them before the game. Please RSVP by January 22nd. If you can't make it this year, we understand, but we need a valid reason for why so you won't lose your place going forward. If you no longer plan to attend our parties, we'll understand that as well, but please let us know so we can find a couple to replace you permanently.

We're looking forward to seeing all of you!

Love,

Carol and Barry

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"I wonder where she learned to do the calligraphy at the top part," Ann asked as she held the expensive parchment Carol had chosen to use for the invitations.

"I dunno. Probably a class, I would guess."

"It's so elegant and classy. Kind of makes you forget what we're actually being invited there to do."

"You're going to be doing more than most, Anna Renee."

She stopped snickering. In fact, she froze. "Anna Renee?"

"Absolutely. You were a very .bad girl to make that bet without me knowing about it. And now everyone that's going to be at the party knows it. It's right there in the invitation. I think you deserve to be punished for that. Don't you?"

"I... I suppose," she said with a ragged breath, a hot flash racing through her veins. "So, wh... when we get home?"

Shaking his head slowly, he kept his focus on the road, dusk fast approaching. "I don't think so. Like I said, everyone already knows you were bad."

"No they don't. They only know I made a bet with Martina."

"Oh, I think they know. And if they don't, they will pretty soon."

How quickly her mood had changed. She'd been so self-assured when she climbed back into the car, excited about what she'd done inside the convenience store. But he'd correctly ascertained what was lying beneath the surface of his beautiful wife. It was the thoughts of that gas station in Wyoming that had fueled the daring display she'd just put on. She knew all too well how that memorable night had ended. But then again, he did too.

Calling her Anna Renee had made her visibly unsettled, because it wasn't exactly the same as Annabelle, but she quickly collected herself. She wanted to not have control; to relinquish that to him for the night. It all had to do with her having to be such a slut at the party. She wanted to do it, but there was still a huge amount of guilt associated with being the center of something so wicked. In truth, Martina had thrown down a gantlet to the rest of the girls, and Ann was the one standing at the front of the line, forced to pick it up on their behalf because it was her team now in the game. She wanted to, but it was a huge step for her. One she wasn't entirely sure she should be taking. With Neil asserting himself, he was now leading her exactly where she wanted to go.

He knew that as well, which was why he switched gears, going with Anna Renee instead of the more obvious Annabelle. He had no desire to go into that world. He didn't necessarily want to involve the alter ego he'd chosen either, but it was pretty clear to him that she wanted to be made to participate, even while she tried so hard to appear cool about it.

Playing on that, he held up his mobile phone for her to take. "You might want to call Camilla."

"Why would I need to do that?"

"Because, you're Anna Renee for the rest of the night, and you know what that means."

"Oh... fuck," she whispered, waving off his attempt to hand it to her. Reaching for her own in the yellow bag, she said, "I have her number stored in mine."

Pressing the button, she waited nervously, her mind thinking about what her husband was inferring, and the reason she needed to call.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Camilla?"

"Yes," she replied.

"Hey, it's me... Anna Renee."

"Anna Renee? What did you do, dear?" she laughed, knowing all about Ann's many personas.

"I didn't tell Neil about the bet I made with Martina, and what would happen if I won. Or lost, for that matter."

"He's just finding out today? The game is today!"

"No, he's known for two weeks. I told him right after the Niners beat the Cowboys. But I didn't tell him before that game, and I should have. The bet was set by the time I told him."