Annie Says "Maybe" Ch. 01-02

Ch. 1 -- The Anniversary

On their tenth anniversary Sam and Annie held hands under a candlelit dinner table. Their lives together had accumulated an embarrassment of riches; deep, abiding love and respect for one another, two darling and mischievous little kids pittering and pattering all over their condo, and a shiny new SUV, all counted among their crown jewels.

Date nights on the other hand, were rarer treasures. The happy couple basked in their moment together, even as they struggled here and there to keep their promise not to talk about the kids the whole time. Their lives were truly wealthy and full, but busy.

"Busy" pretty much summed up Annie's existence. Her head was full of lists of things to do, mostly for the kids, or for work, or the condo. Add a few "to-dos" for Sam, her sisters, mother and father, church, the Women's League, etc. and there wasn't much left for just her.

She had it together; more than she gave herself credit for, but she longed for more. More time to go out with friends, downtime with hubby, to read more, work out, just be alone for a little while.

Sam was busy too, but different. He was a good husband, loving, funny, and sweet, but sometimes mercurial and distractible. Those things served him well in that he could be tightly wound one moment, and entirely relaxed the next. He'd go on a stressful fit of fixing things one day, and be perfectly content to pursue some new hobby the next.

Annie was the tide. Sam was the wind. At her best, Annie was consistent; she rose and fell with life's routines and surprises. At his, Sam was a whirlwind when needed and a gentle breeze when all was calm. At their worst, the metaphors spoke for themselves.

But so it was for them, the sea and the sky, meant to be together, but distinct. Sam smiled as Annie pushed her salad around the plate, and took a sip of wine. He knew her so well. How could he know then how much was left to discover and how much was left to reveal? How could she? Neither of them knew how much pleasure and delight both would find in the answers.

After dinner they took a walk downtown in the cool, windy evening air. It was only 8:30, but they lived in the parent time zone. They had to get back. But as Annie leaned into Sam's arm her auburn hair was swept forward by a gust. Sam looked at her and recalled their first date.

They were a mystery to each other back then. She looked more beautiful now; she was more beautiful now. But having been told she is beautiful and loved thousands of times, Sam wondered what to say, what to do, to make her as giddy as those first times he told her.

Annie wondered less, but felt more. Here, with her man's arm around her and only the sound of leaves blowing and her heels on the pavement, she was relaxed. Sometimes she wanted to have nothing more than a few minutes to herself, but right now she couldn't be held tight enough. She was so happy, and a little sad. All of the blessings of her life came with weight, treasure indeed, but heavy. She never wanted to give up her life, her amazing life, but she did want to escape from time to time.

They talked and joked and promised to work harder to go out together more. On the drive home, Sam fired a shot he'd probably held a bit too long.

"Hey An, what do you think about maybe spicing things up a bit for us? We could maybe try a few new things."

It wasn't poetic or commanding, but their sex life had a tough time competing with their other treasures. They both felt it, but wavered between a lack of self-confidence and not wanting to make it seem like they were unhappy to the other.

Annie had heard this "question" before, and she'd treated it with good humor and some enthusiasm. But it was always tricky. She enjoyed sex and they were both pretty good at it, but experimenting? In the past, it usually made her nervous. It also usually meant trying out something Sam came up with, having a bit of fun,and getting back to normal routines.

This time was different. At first, her lists ran through her brain as they pulled onto their street. But then they vanished. She shut down her work gears, her mommy gears, even her wife gears. Her brain was like the soft, black, empty glow of a computer booting up. A seed had been planted and Spring was here. It was time for it to germinate.

A single, wicked idea danced across her mind. She could feel the colors of it, the indulgence of it. Her head had a tingling, buzzing sensation and a whole troupe of things she wanted, wanted to feel, to do, and to be done to her, twirled and jumped inside her.

Her face was flushed before she felt it, but otherwise she gave away nothing. Warmth and wetness spread between her legs.

"Maybe," she replied, smiling at Sam as the pulled into the driveway.

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Ch. 2 -- Spiced

One week after their anniversary, life seemed like business as usual. Take the kids to school, work, hit the gym for a half-hour, bath time, bedtime, dinner over Netflix. Throw in a few meetings for Annie and site reviews for Sam, repeat. That said, Annie and Sam were both a little "off," as Annie would say; not cross with each other, just off their orbits. It was actually kind of fun in that they were a bit like college kids again, trying to feel each other out and each suspected it had to do with the same thing. It all started that anniversary.

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The happy couple had fucked hard after their anniversary date night, unusually hard. They'd checked on the kids, sent the sitter on her way, and shared another half glass of wine, providing the faintest buzz, then readied for bed.

It wasn't a lingerie affair, but they'd both engaged their cute, typical pre-sex routines. Annie washed her face, brushed her teeth, and lightly spritzed perfume while Sam swished mouthwash, combed his hair, and freshened up. The darling things they did for each other were casually thoughtful and romantic in their domestic way; subtle, civil signals that were ready and willing. When they hit the bed together Sam knew they would make love, but he was still in for a surprise, and "pleasant" wasn't the right word for it.

Annie was soaked. Sam could smell her wetness mixed with perfume when they first kissed. The combination was intoxicating for him, empowering for her. No, it wasn't pleasant. It was hotter, more urgent, sharper.

She sensed Sam back on his heels and artfully, lithely pushed her tongue into his mouth before pulling him down on top of her. Her hips ground his swelling dick against her pussy, spreading her wetness up to her clit.

Sam took her hands in his and started pushing them above Annie's head. He could take her then, pull her thong aside and fuck her steaming hot pussy right away, and fast. She was that wet. He wanted to, but just as he was readying to assert himself, Annie nibbled his ear, a move she'd perfected over the years, and usually one that signaled for him give her all he had or finish.

Then she ran her hands under his shorts, over his ass. Her fingers gently grazed his balls and even his anus. He jumped a little. She'd put her man off guard again. It was a change in their choreography that made Sam lose the beat for a moment, which was all Annie needed.

Sam was a good lover. Though she seldom allowed herself to think this way openly, he was also a "good fuck," as some of her dirty stories might say. But he was usually assertive, direct, in control. There were some fruitful areas to explore with his instincts. He wanted to "spice things up," "try new things?"

"Ok Sam, try this on for size," she mused.

As Sam straightened in modest shock, Annie pulled her underwear to the side, just like he wanted. But as he readied to enter her, she grabbed his hair and steadily, gently guided his mouth to her waiting, eager pussy. Not what he was expecting; exactly what she craved.

Annie's sex was a work of art. She was vaguely aware that not every vagina was made equal. She's seen enough porn, been in enough locker rooms to know that there was even more variation in women then men. What she didn't fully appreciate, at least not then, was that not only did every woman taste different, exude a different scent of lust, and feel different inside, but the hidden aesthetics varied greatly too. And she was perfect. The cherry on top was her gorgeous clit, nestled like a pearl that swelled and shined with her arousal.

And so Sam was eager, if disoriented to oblige. He loved eating her pussy, if such a ridiculous term could do the act justice. She possessed a perfectly formed candy: sweet, smooth, just a little sticky.

Annie pulled on his hair in approval as his tongue lapped at her outer layers, delved deep, and came back. But she was hungry for some very specific attention and in this moment, impatient.

"Suck my clit." she whispered, testing Sam, testing herself. Sam quickly tried to oblige, swirling his tongue around her pearl.

Annie moaned and her clit swelled, but Sam wasn't quite listening. "Suck my clit Sam. Suck." she breathed, with a more confidence. She pulled his head up higher and tentatively pushed herself against his mouth. Sam did as requested, taking her whole clit in his mouth and rhythmically sucking it bringing her closer to cumming.

"That's good...yes, suck Sam!"

Sam sucked and licked and sucked more.

"Harder! Right there! Just suck me!" Annie uttered as she thrust her hips harder against his lips and tongue.

Sam did as Annie requested. But unbeknownst to Sam three, lascivious, life-changing thoughts surfaced in Annie's brain in rapid succession as she reached the verge of climax.

First. "It's not a request." And she stopped thrusting to meet Sam's mouth, and started pulling his hair harder to push his mouth on her pussy.

Second, as he roughly ran his tongue back inside her well for a moment, "He's such a man!" And a hatch deep within her opened a crack further lofting hedonistic bubbles by the dozens to the forefront of her consciousness.

Third. When he went back to sucking, "But he's my man, good Sam, go on big boy- make me cum!"

So cum she did. Three times. Once when Sam's sucking pushed and pulled that button to electric joy. Again when she felt the power of what she'd done, colored by a delicious, perverted guilt. A third time when Sam breathed hard and kissed her clit in an act of supplication to her superior lust and her heavenly sex.

And then they fucked. Rutted like a buck and doe. Sam asserted himself more in the typical fashion of their more spirited lovemaking, but something unfamiliar hung in the air. He had always fucked her to please her, but as part of pleasing himself, and so he didn't really get it. He was pleased as punch to be "making her cum," just like always. But that's not really what happened and only Annie knew it at the time.

She'd fucked him. Did it to get off like he owed it to her. Took what she wanted from her husband and intended to do it again.

Annie often gave Sam the dirty talk he liked, but this time she said what she wanted, when she wanted, and she'd kept two hands on his bridle, as it were, the whole time. She acted like she owned him, like he did with her when he was drunk, or when she'd made him lose composure with acts of submissive gamesmanship. "Annie on top, even when she's underneath" was how she figured it later.

When she let him cum, she knew she would have it all, that she deserved it. The hatch could send wicked, tasty bubbles to pop when she wanted, but she needed his cock and his cum inside her too. She needed to make him shoot into her and keep that silky, gooey warmth like the spoils of war.

Maybe she'd have her cake and eat it too. Who knows? But the bubbles were out and couldn't go back in.

Sam lay in a heap afterwards. Breathing hard and fast. Annie wrapped a leg around him, closed her eyes and smiled.

"Whew! That spiced things up alright" Sam exhaled.

He looked deep into Annie's blue eyes, searching, happy, proud, and dazed at once. "You ok, babe?"

Annie laughed to herself. Her stud was always chatty after. How can somebody fuck her like he stepped off a Viking ship, threw her over his shoulder and bedded her, go back to being lovable Sam so fast? She guessed maybe she'd understand better in the next couple months if things went the way her gut told her.

"Yeah love- I'm good. Really good," she replied.

"So I guess you had some ideas, huh?" pressed Sam.

"Maybe," said Annie.

Her voice sounded funny to Sam, but this was typical of Annie. She could flip to being shy in a heartbeat, or so he assumed.

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Saturday Afternoon: 7 Days After the Anniversary

The following Saturday, routines in full swing, Annie and Sam were just sitting the kids down to lunch when there was a knock on the door. The delivery man was already headed back to the truck when Sam opened the door and found a medium-sized box addressed to Annie. The label was non-descript.

"Honey, you got a package," Sam shouted the kids' demands for a different lunch.

"Oh! Put that on the stairs Hun. It's just some things I ordered. I've been waiting for them."