Our Erotic Anniversary Adventures

Beginning with our seventh anniversary my husband Jack arranged a sexual surprise gift for me each September. The aim of these gifts, he claimed, was to keep our sex life from becoming stale and boring and to bring me unexpected sexual excitement and pleasure. He encouraged me to embrace his gifts with confidence, that it was in both our interests to broaden our sexual experience and deepen our appetites for the erotic aspects of our lives.

Jack's creative gifts by and large have met his aims, beginning with the first one four years ago. But his gift this year for our tenth anniversary has been for me by far the most satisfying--and likely to shift fundamentally our sexual expectations.

I have described below several of Jack's imaginative "gifts" and a fuller recollection of his memorable anniversary gift this year.

Our Seventh Anniversary

At the time of this anniversary Jack was 33 and I (Justine) was 27. For his "special" gift that first time, he made reservations for us at an exclusive clothing optional resort for young couples on a small privately owned island in the Caribbean. All he told me in advance was to bring a couple of bikinis and plenty of sun tan lotion. On the island we spent several days surrounded by handsome men and women showing off the most beautiful bodies we could have imagined. On the beach they were usually nude or almost so and we gradually became comfortable with the same provocative ambiance. Watching them, and being watched by them, was a stimulating sensual experience to say the least. Though we were not looking for new sexual relationships during our stay, Jack's first "special" anniversary gift fed our epicurean fantasies during our nights at the resort and for long thereafter as we envisioned erotic situations with the people we saw during those three days.

During these fantasy sessions I would encourage Jack to imagine sex with a particularly sensual woman while he was having me, and he would offer similar fantasies about me enjoying sex with an especially striking well hung man he had seen me eyeing. Just as Jack had hoped, these recollected images added spice to our love making at home. As we shared these fantasies, I noticed for the first time Jack became more turned on by thoughts of me having sex with other men than when I projected him in intimate acts with women he had watched on our island trip.

For me, another impact of seeing all those beautiful bodies was to renew my determination to make my own body more desirable, perhaps to become the stuff of hot dreams by the kind of gorgeous men I watched at the resort. So I took my diet and my workout program more seriously and was pleased with the result well before our next anniversary. I thanked Jack several times for his first sexually significant anniversary gift and told him I looked forward to the next one with raised interest and less trepidation.

Our Eighth Anniversary

For our next anniversary Jack reserved two night for us at a boutique hotel in Brooklyn near several small art galleries we had discovered together when me first began to date. Returning to this neighborhood struck me as a very romantic choice. But that was not it. I soon learned the main factor in Jack choosing this hotel was its nearness to a sex club where he had made reservations for us to spend a private hour each of the next two nights. We would be seated on a couch in the dark from where we could watch a couple have sex on a mattress only fifteen or twenty feet in front of us. I doubted I would enjoy this experience; it struck me as sleazy, in poor taste as a gift. I was wrong. Watching the two couples was the most erotic single experience in my life to that point--and it had an impact on my sexual interests.

On our first night at the club a handsome young blond hard bodied man came into the room holding hands with a lovely lissome and supple asian woman. They seemed happy together and not at all shy as they moved pleasurably, for them and for us, through every sexual position we might have hoped for. He gave her several orgasms while we watched, first with his fingers, then another with his mouth and finally one with his cock. Gentle beauty rather than high passion is how I characterized their hour in front of us. We took advantage of our own arousal for Jack to bring me off twice with his fingers as we watched. I stroked him slowly during most of our hour there, though he stopped me before he came because he wanted to save his cum for when we would be together later. Another thoughtful anniversary gift.

The sex between the couple the second night was highly energetic and crude--but much more arousing to us. She was very young and very beautiful, perhaps still in her teens, blond with a luscious voluptuous body. He was much older, perhaps over fifty we guessed, heavy, very muscular, almost ugly--and very black. The contrast was riveting. From the first kiss, if there even was one, they generated an atmosphere of raw lust--obscene sexual hunger. She maintained an unrestrained wantonness throughout, more than a match for his copulatory aggression. Despite their intensity, she seemed to count on a prodigious staying power on his part because she insisted that he stay inside her in one position or another for nearly their whole time in front of us. And he did. His stamina and her voracious appetite for one so young amazed us, an unforgettable pornographic experience.

At one point as w watched them Jack whispered to me, "Justine, I love hearing your moans." I had not been conscious of making any noise, lost in devouring such unexpected "improper" behavior. Jack's comment made me realize how deeply absorbed I was in the sexual acts before us. It shocked me to realize I had been wishing I was that girl, wanting to be fucked by that man. I knew if she had not been there and if Jack had not been here I would have gotten down on the floor to ask that older black man to fuck me as hard and as long as he was giving it to that young woman.

We returned to the hotel that second night driven by a need for raunchy carnal sexual release, uncharacteristic of our usual milder way of love making. I relished our lack of restraint. In the weeks that followed both of us drew again and again on memories of those nights in Brooklyn to reignite our desire and appease our lascivious appetites.

Our Ninth Anniversary

Two weeks before our ninth anniversary Jack asked me if for a gift that year I would prefer he make a date for me with another man. He mentioned a shared acquaintance who was highly attracted to me and who he knew I found very attractive as well. I told Jack in a joking voice that I was not ready for that. To intrigue him I may have offered, "not ready yet." Jack said he had anticipated my rejection.

Jack's "offer" did make me pause to wonder what most was driving his anniversary gifts. I had not found our sexual relationship unsatisfactory or felt it needed some major intervention-- but he must have. I asked myself, not for the first time, how he found the time and where he found the information needed to arrange these annual episodes. Was someone advising him? I wondered but did not press him then for answers.

Jack's third erotic anniversary present again involved two nights in the city, this time at the Plaza Hotel in Manhattan, certainly a splurge for us.

We spent our first day at the Museum of Modern art and then walked down Fifth Avenue and around Rockefeller Center. Tourist stuff, but enjoyable. In late afternoon Jack led me to an upscale lingerie store on the east side where at his urging I chose an elegant sheer peignoir, a sexy bra and a black garter belt and stockings. He said he hoped I would wear the peignoir later that night and the bra and garter belt and stockings the following one. Clearly he had a plan.

Jack had asked me before we left home to be prepared to dress to be a center of attention that first night. He let me know we were going to a bar and then a restaurant frequented by elegant people who would respond to beauty and sensuality. I chose a dark green dress cut very low both front and back designed to draw the kind of stares I had come to relish. As he had anticipated I drew lots of interest, mostly male, while we sat at the bar and then again when we walked into the restaurant. Neither surprised me given the way that dress revealed or suggested so such of my body. The appreciative stares from handsome men set me tingling and, as Jack understood, those hungry looks would enflame me for good married sex later that night. I recognized those male glances at me would excite Jack as much as they did me. Later in our room he was more enthusiastic than usual in our love making, particularly in his long oral attention gifting me with three sweet orgasms before he took me in his favorite position, from the back. When his mouth wasn't on me he was reminding me of the looks of desire of other men earlier that evening. I was well satisfied with the first night of our anniversary celebration.

For our second night in the city I wore, again at his request, another dress he loved, a high necked form fitting black dress that accentuated the shape of my breasts and my rear; it was unusual in that it had very small buttons down the front from my neck to below my knees, a challenge or tease depending on who undid the buttons and why. Jack said he wanted me to wear that dress in the Plaza's own bar and restaurant which were, in his words, "Good places to show off my Nicole Kidman look-alike trophy wife in a classy but very sexy dress."

To my surprise, after dinner we returned to the lounge area to dance to a couple of slow romantic songs. After we danced we returned to our room with views toward Central Park and Jack suggested we smoke a joint in order to, as he said, "get in the mood." In a half hour we were very much in the mood. By then it was 10;30 and we were both floating and I was entirely pleased with the evening and with myself. I was ready for my dress to be unbuttoned. Then Jack answered a phone call and I heard him say, "We will be right down."

"Come along," he directed, "We are going for a ride."

So, I thought, the big surprise was still to come. I was tempted to plead I preferred to stay in to enjoy the high together, but I didn't want to dismiss whatever he had planned, knowing he probably had high expectations. A limousine was waiting for us in front of the hotel and a handsome driver held the door for us. A bottle of champagne was in place with a small tray with caviar on the side. I asked Jack where we were going.

"First we drive down Fifth Avenue to Washington Square, then over and up Broadway and into Central Park for a slow exploration. Finally, a nightcap of sorts." Nothing more, I asked myself?

As we started south Jack assured me while we could see the people on the street, a busy Saturday night, the dark windows in our car prevented them from seeing us. We had plenty of time to enjoy the ride, no reason to hurry. He opened the champaign and poured us each a glass and we toasted our ninth anniversary. He began to kiss me, and everything seemed very mellow. I already was feeling high from the grass, and the champagne and the luxury of a private late night excursion added to my euphoria. From time to time, with his arm around me, we looked out at people on the street. Few looked our way, nothing unusual about riders in a limo out on the town.

Jack began to unbutton my dress, button by button, block after block. Halfway down, he paused and unsnapped the bra and handled my breasts, tweaked my nipples. He smiled at me. " I wish the people on the street could see how beautiful you are."

Gradually he undid the rest of the buttons until the dress was entirely open and his eyes burning me, naked but for my garter belt and stockings. He told me how sensual I was, my body displayed like this. He began to stroke my pussy. I felt so relaxed, I leaned back, my arousal concentrated on his finger on my clit. Soon his rubbing and flicking gave me my first orgasm of the evening; everything about the ride seemed magical. Almost without pause I told him I was horny for more. I took his cock out of his pants and began to stroke it as I glanced out the window. We turned at Washington Square for Broadway and then north. I looked in Jack's eyes to confirm his pleasure though his hardness and the twitching of his cock left little doubt. To my surprise Jack put his hand on mine and removed it.

"Justine, you look so erotic with your dress opened wide and your perfect body displayed so sensuously. I have a special gift I would ask of you, something I can't resist appealing to you for. Lean back for me against the cushion and spread your beautiful long legs and touch your self. I need to watch you take your own pleasure. I have been dreaming about seeing you just like this, your fingers moving on your sex. Share with me how you take yourself for yourself."

And so I did that and more for my husband, something I almost never let him see. I closed my eyes and concentrated on my pleasure, an anniversary gift he would not soon forget and would thank me for. While I touched my clit I moaned and mewed sharing my sensations. With the other hand I put one finger, and then two, inside my pussy. And then, inspired by the novelty of it, I used my thumb.

"Just like a small cock in me," I said. "Do you like it, Jack, watching me thumb-fuck myself?" His eyes were fixated on the picture I offered him; I heard his own moan in response. I orgasmed again. But still he did not.

We paused for another glass of champagne and Jack offered me caviar and then proposed another toast, this one "to your overwhelming sexuality tonight, Justine." Suddenly I wondered if the driver could see and hear us but the slide in the window between us and the front was closed. Too late anyway, I told myself. Already two orgasms and our ride was not over.

We had entered Central Park and the car moved more slowly; clearly the driver knew the park well and what was wanted of him. Jack leaned back in the corner of the seat and asked me to sit on his pap but facing away from him. I did what he asked. I spread my legs. He reached around and began to finger me again, beginning to talk dirty to arouse me, something unusual for him, telling me what nasty things he wanted to do with me later, speeding up his frigging until he knew I could not wait much longer for my orgasm. And then he softened and slowed his touches.

I noticed the car was slowing and then stopped. We were parked in a very dark place. I did not detect anyone walking.

"Justine," Jack whispered, "we are in a very quiet private place here. I am so hot to fuck you.."

"I am dying for a hot fuck, Jack. Will you finally give it to me now?"

He helped raise me so he could enter me, coming up inside me while I was on his lap, facing away. He moved very slowly, very much in control, making sure were both comfortable with the slightly awkward position. He was not so urgent as I had expected, like he was waiting for something to begin. He asked me if I liked it. I told him I did but was ready for more, and harder.

"Justine, remember how sexy it was for us when we watched those couples at that club in Brooklyn a year ago. And how hot they were from us watching? "

"I remember, Jack."

"Now we will be watched, Justine"

I was puzzled though mostly I was just eager for him to move faster inside me. Then I heard the divider slide open revealing the face of our handsome young driver smiling shyly at me, his eyes exploring my body, my legs spread wide and Jack inside me, showing everything to our chauffeur.

"Look back at him, Justine," Jack whispered in my ear. "Feel the desire written on his face. He wishes he could be where I am. Let yourself go, Justine. Imagine you are giving yourself to him as you give yourself to me."

What a shocking arrangement Jack had made. I did what he asked. I could not help myself-- and I didn't want to. What a turn on! I was filled with lust, the picture in my head was the one Jack had suggested, spread, giving myself to this other man. I found myself welcoming the desire on the young driver's face and I gave the same look of want back to him. I felt I was giving myself to a total stranger, wishing it was him I was mating with, aching for more, for it to go longer. I could tell from his motions that he was jacking off while he was looking at me. I could tell when he came, the reflexive tightening and then release upon his face. He turned his head away then and I realized he was rearranging himself, putting his cock away. I wondered if he had something on which to catch his cum. I wished I could see. He turned to me again and smiled and then turned to start the car. We moved again and in ten minutes he was holding the door for us as we left the car and walked into the hotel.

Part of me wished the handsome driver was coming with us. How ready for him I was right then. I had liked being watched this first time and I wished even more had happened. I did not say that to Jack. I wasn't sure what more he wanted beyond what had happened and what he might welcome in the future.

Later when we talked Jack explained, "I wanted this to be a new experience for us, for you. I told Drew he could watch and I asked him to look in your eyes and to jack off if he wanted to while he was looking. Thought you would like knowing that. Something different."

It certainly was. Bizarre in a sense, but brilliant in its own way.

Our Tenth Anniversary

A couple of weeks ago Jack told me for our tenth anniversary he was taking me to dinner and an overnight at an upscale restaurant in a hotel he picked because it featured ballroom dancing every Friday night. Jack knows how much I like to dance--much more than he does--so he was making a sacrifice for our anniversary. He suggested I buy a new dress for the dinner and dance, something very daring and, in his words, something to "give men a fever." He knew from long experience how other men feasting their eyes on me ignites my own desire.

Earlier that week, Jack went with me to buy my new dress. We agreed, I at first reluctantly, on a bright red form fitting midi-dress that left nothing to the imagination, top or bottom. I promised him I would wear nothing under the dress except a nearly transparent push up bra to accentuate my breasts. He understood my wearing that dress would arouse me as much as any onlooker. Jack also bought a beautiful sheer white negligee for me to bring along "for later."

That evening we had a drink in the bar crowded with people, some waiting for the dancing to begin, then a relaxed romantic dinner enhanced by a bottle of an expensive cabernet. Feeling already the stares inspired by the way my red dress revealed by body, we repaired to the lounge for dancing to be followed, I assumed, by enjoyable late night sex to complete our urban anniversary get away. Unusual for Jack, he worked hard to remember basic dance steps and he was doing what he could to stay with me. He knew I loved this kind of dancing and missed it badly. Dancing always made me feel like letting go. By the end of our third dance I could tell Jack's enthusiasm was declining so I suggested we take a break. It was a pleasant place where we could enjoy watching other couples dance as we sipped manhattans, one of our favorite drinks from our earliest times together. Some of the dancers were older but a surprising number were our age or younger, many very attractive and very elegantly dressed, enjoying the opportunity to display their dancing abilities and, for some very obviously, their bodies.

I was feeling relaxed, unusually desirable in my sexy dress, and very horny, imagining how men noticing me would feel if they knew I was naked under my dress. Certainly the dress blatantly revealed the shape of my breasts, demonstrating I, and my husband, enjoyed provoking lustful looks and thoughts. As much as I liked the dancing--and being watched-- I was becoming eager for what I expected from Jack in our suite upstairs. I mentioned this, expecting him to immediately suggest we leave, so I was surprised when he proposed we have one more dance, saying he wanted to give me one more opportunity to enjoy the admiring gazes from dancers around us and others at tables and the bar. I assumed Jack wanted me to be even more fully aroused when we headed for our room. I did not object.