Ann: The Married Years Ch. 44

© 2021, All rights reserved -- mimaster

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Ann groaned as she looked at the disheveled mop on top of her head. It hardly looked like it was a style anymore. It was longer than she could remember. And the soft gentle curls she'd had for so long were becoming hard to distinguish.

"God, I've got to do something about this mess," she said disgustedly at her reflection.

It had been forever since she'd gone in for a perm, finding the time required to have one done an elusive premise. It was something she never worried about when she was younger. She took such pride in her appearance it would have been criminal to miss her bi-monthly appointment for a perm, or the touch up and trim she'd have done in the month in between. She still cared about how she looked, but she also had an active toddler, and of late there always seemed to be something more pressing to do.

It didn't help that the structure of her hair had seemingly changed. Ever since she'd become pregnant with Owen, it was more difficult for her hair to actually hold a perm. They didn't last nearly as long. Becoming used to only having to get one every couple of months, it was difficult to adjust to having to get them more often. Not to mention the added expense. Instead, she learned to live with the curls becoming looser over a shorter timeframe, which meant having to do a lot more styling in the morning just to give herself something close to the look she wanted.

She leaned closer, running her fingers through the strands, trying to untangle some of the mess. Picking up her brush, she started working it through her tresses, getting out some of the knots. She winced, not being careful enough when she pulled, the brush becoming entangled for a brief moment. Massaging her scalp where the follicles had been irritated, she caught a glimpse of the smirk on her face.

The tug of the brush had reminded her of the events night before; the cause of the tangles in the first place. Neil had been pulling and twisting his hands in her long, silky mane, using her hair as reins to control her as he fucked her from behind. She found her pussy had begun to tingle, a sudden wetness between her legs from the wicked flashes going through her mind. Who would have ever thought she would get so turned on by having her hair pulled during sex?

She certainly didn't when she was younger. But she was a much different woman than the one that left California almost six years before. Still, she found it interesting that she'd run away to the west coast after high school to escape the oppressive confines of the small town she grew up in, wanting to be free; to be able to spread her wings and sow her wild oats. She spent ten years thinking she'd changed from the naïve little girl from Indiana, growing into a sexually mature young woman, full of self-confidence, thinking she had it all figured out.

It wasn't until fate brought her to a man from her hometown that she came to realize just how little she knew when it came to sexual pleasure. In just days, Neil taught her to no longer accept the notion of settling for limits, practically challenging her with the concept that she was capable of having multiple orgasms. She scoffed at the thought, only to be proven wrong the very first time he was allowed the chance to show her what a real man could do with her body.

She'd been learning lessons from him ever since.

It was hard to remember the first time he actually took hold of her long locks and used them as a way to control her. She was certain it was during one of their angrier lovemaking sessions. It was fucking, actually. And it was likely her ass. She was convinced he was taking her from behind, recalling how her head snapped back, her chest jutting out as he rammed deeper inside. But the exact moment was lost, amongst all the other times he'd used her in the most wonderful ways.

It was also hard to believe she'd been a California girl for so long, and never experienced that feeling while living there. But it was just like having more than one orgasm... or one at all, to be honest. While she didn't know it, her sexual experiences with men from the Golden State were limited, despite how sexually active she was.

She never bothered to keep track of just how many men she'd slept with in the decade of time spent in California, but she knew the actual total was well more than there were weeks in a year. There was a time in her life when she relished the idea of bedding someone new; an endless search for the perfect fuck. It was an unashamed pursuit. She recalled actually being proud at the time when she fucked four different men in a little over a week, none of which she saw before or after she slept with them. But that magical fuck she'd dreamed of proved more elusive than she imagined, her white whale always slipping away, leaving her to hump what she deemed as an endless supply of selfish lovers.

She didn't start out that way. It took time for her to become jaded by the attitudes of the men she'd hook up with, considering them a disposable commodity. During her first few years out west, she was the one being preyed upon; used and discarded as far as sex was concerned, sometimes cumming... most times not. But she learned, finding the confidence to turn the tables. She had the advantage, after all. She was stunningly attractive, incredibly stylish, unbelievably athletic, extremely intelligent, and most important, she had the pussy.

Going from hunted to huntress, she spent several years making up for the all the nights spent with a broken heart and wasted tears. She would bust her ass working all day, building a team, creating success in her store. And then after work, when she needed relief from the stress, she'd go on the prowl at night. She wasn't proud of the way she treated some of the men, but unlike those that had used her the first few years she lived there, she almost always made sure whomever she slept with had an orgasm. She just made absolutely certain that she had hers first.

She didn't think of herself as a slut, even though the number of one-night stands she'd had was frightening enough that she easily qualified by any definition. Instead, she chose to think of herself as a progressive woman, taking charge of her sexuality. It made her feel empowered.

That held true, until she fell in love with someone she shouldn't have. All of the confidence she'd built up went out the window after she met Ray. She'd been introduced to him at a party, the two connecting in a way she hadn't felt before. It was refreshing that he didn't succumb to her subtle advances, nor did he put the moves on her at first. He took his time, all the while being the aggressor. She fell back into the role of being chased, actually finding that she missed it.

She stopped her promiscuity almost immediately, deciding she should see where their relationship might take them. They began dating, and during their first six months together she couldn't have been happier. He wasn't selfish, always looking out for her needs, especially in bed. Ray seemed to be everything she was looking for, with the notable exception of being monogamous.

She didn't find out about his life-long girlfriend until they'd been dating almost a year. That was because she wasn't an issue at first. Ann thought she was simply a good friend. But like a bad dream, she was the type of woman that kept popping back into his life, never really letting go. And Ray was the type of man that couldn't totally break things off. He tried. Many times. He'd throw that boomerang, and many times it would disappear for ridiculous lengths of time. But that boomerang always... she always returned.

He knew she wasn't good for him. He knew she treated him like crap most of the time. But time apart made it easy for him to forget those traits. After all, she always proclaimed that he was the love of her life, the two knowing each other since grade school. He always fell for that logic, thinking of her as some kind of soulmate.

Ann was crushed at first when she realized they were beyond friendship, and their on again off again relationship has swung back into the on position. They'd become serious. But Ann did something unfathomable in response. Instead of calling him out, she decided to fight for his love, treating it like a competition. She spent over six months trying to win him, all the while knowing he was getting what he wanted from both women.

Struggling with her jealously, she set that aside, giving more of herself, and yet getting less and less in return. It wasn't until one of her floor managers at the store pulled her aside in the back room and literally slapped her to get her attention, that she came to her senses. It happened after a particularly embarrassing phone call, Ray telling her he couldn't be with her over the weekend like originally planned, that she realized how she was being used once. She'd accepted his admission that he was going to Napa instead, and he was going alone. Her respond had been an almost desperate, "Okay, next weekend then?"

His non-committal reply wasn't enough to set her straight. It took the firm right palm of Paola, one of her trusted assistant managers, to wake her up.

Ann's gasp was as loud as the smack against her cheek. But not as loud as Paola snapping, "Wake the fuck up, Ann! He just blew off the plans you've been making for two weeks, and you're just going to accept that!? The only way he's ever going to know he picked the wrong pussy is if you take it away from him."

"What?"

"The reason he hasn't broken it off with you is because he doesn't have to work for it. You're not only throwing yourself at him, you're debasing yourself more and more doing it. On the other hand, he's broken it off with her a dozen times, but obviously never for good. That's because she's his safety net. She's never going to go away. You're making it so she doesn't have to. You just basically told him you're okay with him taking her to Napa and fucking her all weekend instead of you. What did you tell him? Maybe next weekend? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Realizing Paola was right, she broke it off that day, and immediately sought to regain control of her life. Walking out of work, she went straight to a bar. The first attractive man that approached her became caught in her snare. Twenty minutes later, she was being eaten in the back of his car... and once she came, she left, never bothering to pick up her discarded panties.

It was the ugliest thing she'd ever done to a man, but it helped. It also was the start of another string of uninhibited one-night stands. She went through men like packs of Juicy Fruit gum, and frankly viewed them that way, chewing them up until their flavor was quickly spent, only to be spit out and carelessly thrown on the trash heap in the wrapper they came in; or sometimes, without the wrapper, stuck instead underneath some proverbial restaurant table.

All of them were meaningless, although there was a notable exception; one that proved to her that there was better sex in the world out there to be had. And that had her stopping to reevaluate her life once again.

By the time she flew to Indiana for her ten-year reunion, she'd gotten her past with Ray out of her system for the most part. She'd reclaimed her confidence, as well as control of her life. She also knew she was done with the life in California. She absolutely loved the area, and she adored her friends, but all she seemed to do was work to make ends meet. Ten years, and she was still living with roommates, having just a few modest possessions to call her own. While she was proud of all that she'd accomplished professionally, the fact remained she was a twenty-seven-year-old single woman that was tired, and frankly, lonely. While she had no problem making and keeping great friends, the right man had continued to elude her.

That all changed in slightly less than a weeks time. Fate brought Neil into her life, and she found out the second day they were together that nothing she thought she had learned about sex and love while she was in California was real. Sure, she'd become experienced, and she was certainly confident of her own abilities in bed. What she didn't realize was just how much she'd been missing on the receiving end.

In the six days she was with Neil in Indiana, she learned more about her sexuality than she had in the previous six years in California. Yes, half of those were wasted on her relationship with Ray. But the other three that sandwiched around those were spent with numerous men, and none of them, including her ex-boyfriend, could do anything close sexually to the things that Neil could do for her.

Her mind returned to the reflection in the mirror. She was older now, a mother of thirty-three. She didn't feel old, though. She felt alive. Not only was she in the best shape of her life physically, she was content emotionally. Yes, she was tired a lot; the reality of having a precocious child that seemed to have boundless energy. But she was also happier than she'd ever been in her life.

Most of that contentment had to do with her husband, and a lot of that had to do with the endless sexual thrills he provided her. It was a two-way street, of course. But she couldn't help but feel she'd gotten the better end of the deal. Add to that the fact that he was her best friend and that he was an incredible provider as well as a father; she felt she was the luckiest woman in the world.

Pulling at the brush, hoping to untangle the knot, she became lost in that familiar sensation. Closing her eyes briefly, she could imagine it was his hand, grasping her hair, pulling her head back as he pounded her ass mercilessly. It had been something she wanted, which was unfathomable to her before they met. She couldn't find a man that could fuck her pussy properly. There was no way she was letting one of them near her ass. Fast forward, her life was in a place where there were times when she craved anal sex, finding it perfect when she was in the right mood. And that mood always meant the rougher, the better. Like the night before.

She'd had a rare bad day at work, a rude customer affecting her mindset. Mary Ann actually banned the woman from the store, but it was too late by that point. That was followed by picking up a very cranky child from Felicia's house on an afternoon when Neil was working on second shift. By the time she got Owen to bed, she was agitated. Two glasses of wine did nothing to change that.

Neil came home that way too, having an awful shift of his own. That was almost as rare as a bad workday for Ann. That the two coincided on the same day was a bit hard to believe. He came home hoping to be consoled by a wife that would listen to his troubles. He rarely if ever shared them, but there were times he needed to. But she was expecting the same from him from the moment he walked in the door.

They spent the first five minutes competing for each other's sympathetic ear, only to realize neither was going to stop focusing on their own crappy day long enough to show any compassion toward their spouse. Neil stopped mid-sentence, his sudden silence making Ann pause as well. The nasty glint in his eye went straight to her pussy, making her wet instantly when sex had been the furthest thing from her mind. She knew that wasn't where his mind was at the start either, yet suddenly they were there together at the same crossroads.

Storming across the floor, he grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her toward their bedroom. She let out a happy squeal from the force, knowing he wasn't mad, but accepting that he was about to take her.

"C'mon," he growled as he led her down the hallway.

"Where're we going?" she teased.

"We're going to fuck the angry out of each other."

She smiled at his phrasing even the next morning. Indeed, they had done just that. Letting go of the brush, it hung in her hair on the right side of her head. Closing her eyes, she could still feel the sting of his hand landing on her ass as if he were doing it right then, the playful blows in her mind making her wet once again. She grabbed her full breasts, squeezing them. They were still tender from the way he pawed at them the night before. She tried to emulate his grip, wanting to feel it again, unable replicate the magic of that moment. His hands were so much bigger than hers; large enough to palm a basketball; something she'd seen him do countless times. They were also incredibly powerful, the strength in his fingers somewhat frightening. The thought of what he could do with them brought a perverse smile to her face.

A moan landed on her ears, and she realized it was coming from inside her chest. Her panties were soaked. Her ass puckered, the walls flexing, as if searching for the shaft that had invaded it the night before. She could still feel the slightest tingle deep inside, like an itch in need of a scratch.

"God, I love him," she exhaled softly, batting her eyes.

Taking the brush, she tried to extricate it from her hair, finding it snagged more than she first thought. Leaning over the sink, her shapely breasts swaying gently underneath her body, she drew closer to the mirror to see the problem more clearly.

Her eyes were focused more closely on her hair, on where the brush was caught, her eyes catching a different problem altogether.

"What the fuck," she questioned, not believing them.

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"Hey babe?" Neil called out from the master bathroom, hoping to get the attention of his wife.

"Yeah?" she sang back, her voice filled with joy.

He walked around the corner from the small hallway, drying his hair with a bath towel. She grinned at the sight of his naked body, still shimmering as the light from the open window glanced off his wet skin. Lying lazily on top of the sheets, already dressed, she was reading a magazine; their son was sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed watching a children's show rerun on the bedroom television.

She loved that Neil didn't bother to cover up. She never did either, the two of them comfortable with how they were raising their child. They didn't want him to think nudity was something to be ashamed of, hoping to show him that he should be comfortable in his own skin. Ann insisted that she and Neil not change who they were just because they were parents, and to that point it was working. They didn't go out of their way to be naked around him, but if the circumstances naturally meant they weren't wearing anything, they didn't see the reason to act modest or ashamed. That didn't mean there weren't times where it was a challenge, though.

The way Ann spoke to him was one thing; the way she was leering at him over her magazine was another one entirely. He caught her staring at his crotch, licking her lips seductively, and that made his shaft start to grow almost instantly.

"I hate it when you do that," he sighed, having to take the towel and wrap it around his waste, not wanting to have a huge erection with Owen nearby.

"Aw... don't hide it. I love watching you get hard for me, baby."

"Responsible parenting. Isn't that what you preached to me when you said you wanted us to be able to be natural around the house?"

"I am being responsible. I'm responsible for making you hard."

"You know what I mean, Anna."

"I don't think there's any harm in showing your wife that you want to fuck her."

"I show you that all the time... there's no need to be doing it like this in front of Owen."

"I was just teasing. It's not my fault you can't control your penis."

"Funny how you call it that in front of him, but that's not what you say in the bedroom."

Giggling, she winked. "Responsible... remember?" Then she mouthed, "I love your cock, baby."