Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. Six years. The thought struck him like a hammer as he stared at the date circled on his calendar at the office Had it been six years already? Time really does fly, he thought to himself. He remembered vividly every detail of his wedding day, the way his wife looked at him as she said `I do', the toasts, and of course, the wedding night. Even the thought of his wife, silhouetted against the light spilling from the bathroom, arched in a sensual, catlike pose caused him to harden beneath his desk. He recalled the emerald green lingerie, a surprise, she had said. A most welcome one, he recalled the corners of his mouth pricking up slightly in a smile. But that was six years, two kids, and a mortgage ago. These days the best the two of them could manage was a quick grope, once a month if they were lucky, before exhaustion overtook them. It wasn't that they didn't love each other, but the flames of passion had certainly cooled from the early days. Back then, it was all they could do to keep their clothes on. He remembered other times, before their marriage. The naughty squeeze under the table at the office Christmas Party, her hands running over his member as he drove back to her apartment, and how they tore her favorite dress in their haste to be with each other. He sighed. That was then, he thought to himself. Now, she's afraid to let me see her naked because she's gained weight. I suppose I'm not much to look at either. His hands ran over his receding hairline, and his growing beer belly. It wasn't supposed to be like this. He had loved sex with her. Now, it seemed he couldn't do anything right. An offhand remark made her feel unappreciated. Copping a playful feel was met with a slap of his hand and a Not In Front of the Children glare. An "I'll see you tonight" kiss was, according to her, setting an unfair level of expectation. Truthfully, for the most part, he had stopped trying. He knew she didn't feel good about herself, and didn't feel sexy, though she still aroused him plenty. He just didn't want her to feel bad anymore, and his advances had all come out that way, intentional or not. He hadn't helped things when his frustration over being rejected yet again boiled over, and he became critical. She cried, and ran from the room. He had hurt her feelings again, and she drew further into her shell of self loathing. His hands reached for the tickets he had hidden from her. Tonight, they would turn over a new page in their relationship. A new, healthier page. He had planned everything. A sitter for the kids. Dinner reservations. Tickets to the latest play to hit town. His wife had studied Dramatic Arts in college, and in the time they had been together, she had not been to any live theatre. He normally preferred comedies, but tonight was a dramatic piece by some esoteric playwright he had never heard of that he had seen in one of her old textbooks. Sitting through it would be like pulling eye teeth, but he hoped she would appreciate the sacrifice. He left the office at 4:30, his staff waving to him, knowing it was a special night. He drove home as quickly as he could. She was surprised to see him as early as he was, since he normally was late. He had told her nothing, except to dress nicely. He could see she had been to the salon, her hair and makeup were perfect, even with the children running around her, yelling and playing. He kissed her quickly, and told her to finish getting ready. When she arrived downstairs, his heart stopped. She had obviously been shopping for a new outfit. A form fitting blue dress, the same shade as her eyes, took his breath away. It was perfect, showing her ample breasts to great advantage, and coming only to mid thigh. A pair of pale blue stockings and new blue high heels complemented the ensemble. Her blonde hair was swept up with only a single lock trailing down the side of her face, accentuating her elegant neck. Her porcelain skin was flawless, except for the hint of freckles, which he found irresistible. He stared for so long that she began to get uncomfortable. "I can return it...it wasn't that expensive, but ..." she stammered, misunderstanding. He put his finger to her lips gently, to stop her from talking. "It's perfect. You look incredible." He said breathlessly. Their eyes locked in an intimacy he hadn't felt in a long, long time. She turned away, and he could see she was flushed. He grabbed his overcoat, gave final instructions to the babysitter, and they were out the door. His car was quite low, so when she bent to get in, he was treated to a glimpse of the top of the stockings. Yep, they were silk with lace tops. His favorite. She smiled demurely, and they drove to the Henri's, an expensive restaurant overlooking the river valley. Dinner was wonderful. They sat and made small talk, avoiding conversation about the house, bills or the kids. He didn't talk about his job, she didn't mention the housework. He couldn't take his eyes off her, and for once, she didn't turn his small flirtations away. When desert came, she ordered chocolate mousse. After the waiter left, she stared him right in the eyes, and licked the mousse off the fork very slowly, running her tongue up and down the tines. His member stiffened immediately, but he tried to be nonchalant, quietly sipping on his coffee. Soon, he felt her leg rub the inside of his, lightly touching his ankle, then knee. She stopped at his mid thigh, and he was almost relieved. He didn't think he could sit through a whole play. Fortunately, his swelling had abated by the time the cheque arrived. The play they were attending had received rave reviews, and the best seats he could manage were fairly far back, and to the right of the main stage, on an aisle. She didn't care, thanking him for being so thoughtful. As if nothing else had happened, she took him through the finer points of the program, explaining what the different cast members' roles were, and how demanding a piece they were performing. She seemed so different, that he was almost ready to believe that her flirtations hadn't happened. The rest of the crowd filed in, and the lights soon dimmed as the play began. He was bored almost immediately, but as he looked at his wife in the shadows, he realized it was worth it. She had leaned forward to see better, and in the light reflected from the stage, he could see her breasts clearly. He noticed a she was wearing a lace bodice. He turned back to the stage, trying to refocus his thoughts on the play. It was then he felt her hand on his thigh, lightly stroking him. He looked at her, but her face was turned to the stage, betraying nothing. She leaned toward him, and whispered into his ear, "Just relax and enjoy yourself." His eyes were glued to the stage as her fingers began to stroke him. He was instantly hard, and his underwear was causing him to be uncomfortable. He lost himself in the feeling of a single finger tracing itself along his shaft, circling the head, then back down again. Eyes glazed over, he was surprised when the house lights came up, signaling the end of the first act.. She looked at him, amused. "I'm going to freshen up. Want to stretch your legs?" she said playfully. He stammered. "N-no. No thanks. I'll just stay here." He said, in obvious discomfort. Her eyes sparkled as she edged past him, and took the opportunity to rub up against him again. He busied himself with studying the program again. It took him quite a while before he could get up the nerve to look at his fellow patrons, but none seemed aware of anything unusual. She returned just before the lights went down. "Can you hold this for me?" she said casually, handing him what he thought was a handkerchief. He nodded, and when he moved to put it in his suit pocket, he realized he had her underwear. He was instantly stiff again. This time as the play began, her fingers began to knead his shaft through the material of his dress pants. Her eyes were on the play the entire time, but her hand remained rooted to his crotch. He began to sweat as the play continued, but he wouldn't have told her to stop for anything. He carefully put his hand on her thigh, and was surprised to feel how warm it felt. She crossed her legs so his hand was locked between them, and slowly, carefully, began to grind herself against it. He was sure someone would notice, but as he glanced around, no one appeared to be staring. Just as the house lights rose for the second intermission, his wife uncrossed her legs, and stopped groping him. He retrieved his hand, noticing the moisture and erotic aroma. This time, he used to program to cover his bulging erection as other patrons squeezed by the two of them. Their section emptied out, with most of the audience mingling in the theatre lobby. He wasn't about to go anywhere. He leaned over and whispered in her ear, "I love you. This has been amazing." She smiled laviciously, and said, "It's just starting." Carefully, and slowly, she spread her legs, and showed him her newly shaved pussy. It was already wet, and her juices were smeared over the top of her thighs. She glanced around quickly to be sure she wasn't being seen, then slowly inserted her index finger up to the second knuckle in her wet box, and rubbed her clit quickly. She took her finger and put it in his mouth. "Taste me," she said, as he licked the salty, sweet musk of her core. He grabbed his coat. "Let's go right now," he insisted. "Don't you want to see the rest of the play?" she asked innocently, enjoying his ardor. "The hell with the play!" he hissed, his breath ragged. The bell sounded the end of the intermission. She laughed quietly. "Now now. I haven't seen a play in years. I want to stay." He gave her an imploring look, which she ignored, continuing to toy with him. The audience made its way back in, and he was forced to act like nothing was wrong for several minutes. He thought he would tear through his suit pants if this continued, but he didn't care. The third act was intense, with the actors shouting and yelling at each other from all over the stage. He supposed, had he any idea of what was going on, it would be compelling. The other patrons' eyes were riveted to the stage. His wife even seemed caught up in the action, but shortly, her hand found it's way back to it's home between his legs. His aching member was sore from it's confinement, and aching for release. He couldn't wait to get home. Then her hand moved up to his belt. She deftly pulled it open and unbuckled it without looking. He was amazed. Was this the same woman he had been married to for six years? He held his breath as she slowly, inch by tantalizing inch, pulled his zipper down. Soon, it was completely open. She reached in and pulled the band of his underwear, but his erection was so stiff, she couldn't release it with one hand. He helped her. He coughed quietly to distract whomever might be watching, with one hand covering his mouth, and the other he used to free himself from his elastic prison. His penis throbbed in relief, growing to its full size under his program. His wife's hand continued to knead and stroke him, almost to the point of orgasm, but when she would hear his breathing becoming ragged, she would slow down, allowing him to recover himself somewhat. The play ended in a cacophony of sound and light. The reflection from the stage illuminated him for one brief instant with all his manhood exposed. Quickly, he put himself together, and the house lights came up with everyone standing and applauding. He joined them, applauding quickly, and then pulling his wife to the exit. Hurriedly, he retrieved their coats, and her purse from the coat check girl. They went to the underground parkade, and just as quickly, he pulled out, willing himself to get home. "Careful, you'll get a ticket," she pointed out "Who cares?" he said, still breathless. "We just need to get home, fast." "What about the babysitter?" "She can walk home. It's not far." He managed to say. They hit the freeway, and he accelerated, breaking the speed limit almost immediately. His blood was burning, and he didn't want anything to delay their lovemaking. She put one foot on the dashboard, exposing her bare pussy to him again. "Don't be in such a hurry," she said. Her fingers moved to her centre. Oh god, he thought to himself, I can't take much more of this. After massaging her clit for a minute, she said, "I need something in me. Right now." He started to pull the car off the nearest freeway exit. She giggled, and smiled. "Not you. Not yet, stud." She reached for her purse and pulled out a tiny vibrator. He thought nothing would surprise him, but he was wrong. He wasn't sure when she had bought herself a vibrator, but as he watched her pleasure herself, he knew he approved. It nearly killed him to peel his eyes away, and keep them on the road as she started to moan and thrash around on the seat. Soon her back arched and she fucked herself vigorously with the little vibrator. Her orgasm peaked, and she her juices blasted out of her, coating the seat, her thighs, and the floor of his car. Her musk filled the air, and she sat back smiling as he gripped the wheel in a deathlock. "That was the most erotic thing I've ever seen," he said thickly, his arousal deepening his voice. "Well, I'd give you a blowjob if I didn't think it would kill us both." She laughed. "We're almost home, anyways," he said, laughing with her as he pulled off on their exit. She cleaned herself up as they wound through the subdivision, and eventually parked in the driveway. "Take the babysitter home." She said. "I'll be waiting for you when you get back." He groaned. He was quite serious about making the babysitter walk, but she insisted. They opened the door, and he quickly paid the teenage girl, plus a tip, and told her to wait in the car for him. She took the money, and walked out the door with a look that suggested she knew more than she should. His wife grabbed him by the lapels and pushed her tongue in his mouth, sucking his tongue into hers. They swirled passionately for a minute, while her hands groped his hardness again. "Hurry home." She breathed. He wasn't sure if he even came to a complete stop when he dropped the babysitter off, but he did know he laid a patch of rubber on the street getting home. He was disappointed when he arrived to a darkened house. "Don't tell me she's asleep," he thought to himself. He climbed the stairs to his bedroom, where the lights were out. As he reached for the light, he heard his wife's voice behind him, "Don't turn it on. Just do what I tell you." Her hands pulled his shirt out of his pants, and reached up his chest underneath. He felt her hot breath on his neck. "Let me undress you," she breathed. His pants hit the floor first. Then his tie came off. Then her hands skillfully undid each button on his shirt, while her tongue played in his ear. His erection would cut diamonds, he was sure. Finally his shorts came down, and he stood naked in sock feet. He tore these off and threw them across the room. From behind him, she massaged his rock hard dick with both hands, jacking him off. He tilted his head back and moaned, but she stopped quickly, and pushed him towards their bed. He sprawled out on it. His wife used to be a dancer, and in her prime danced every night at a nightclub. The owner had paid her to get the crowd going. Tonight she moved towards the bed on the balls of her feet, slinking towards him with animalistic grace despite the few extra pounds she now carried. Naked, except for the silk stockings and bodice, she slithered up him, rubbing her lips against his scotum, and the head of his penis. They kissed deeply when she got to his face, and he felt her heat throbbing as she rubbed her molten center on his hip. She tongued his ear, and whispered "Trust me." He heard rather than saw the handcuff go around his wrist with series of clicks. He looked at her in puzzlement, but she had already moved to the other arm, securing it with his tie to the bedpost. He could still move a little, but they had never played this game before. "I'm gonna fuck you senseless, and there isn't a thing you can do about it," she panted, "but first, you're gonna eat me." She straddled his face, and pulled his willing mouth to her open hole. He went to work, seeking out her clit with his tongue, and after stroking it up and down several times, he sucked her swollen bud into his mouth and worked his tongue roughly over it as fast as he could. Her back arched, and she growled, `Oh-h-h....Yeah! Yeah right there, baby!" A second flood rushed from her, and she coated his face in her musk. He continued to work her pussy with his mouth as fast as he could, not letting up for a second. She hunched over him, making it more difficult, but he pushed his face into her pulsing vagina and sucked her clit hard. Another orgasm ripped through her, silencing her moans while she spasmed. She came back to reality with a deep breath, and got off his face. He looked at her flushed and heaving breasts, her full lips still engorged from orgasm, and knew he wouldn't last much longer, whether he was inside her or not. With his hands tied, he struggled against the waves of pleasure racking his own body as she sucked on his nipples, occassionally nipping one. Finally, her mouth moved lower, kissing the curve of his pelvic bone, the inside of his thigh, and finally, licking his scrotum. His body screamed for release. The endorphins rushed through him, making every touch seem like fireworks. His breath was ragged, and his moans were coming from deep inside him. She stared at him as she slowly, carefully, fed every inch of his huge member into her mouth. Her eyes finally closed when it hit the back of her throat, then she shifted, and began to suck gently. She slowly worked her way up and down the shaft, fondling his balls at the same time. It didn't take long. Within moments, he felt his orgasm rip from him, and he cried out as he spurted time and time again down his wife's throat. She sucked him for everything he was worth, and when he was finished, she kissed him in a sloppy, cum filled kiss, their fluids mingling on their tongues. She had straddled his pelvis, and amazingly, his aching member answered the call again. She felt it growing between her legs, and with a smile she reached down and stroked him to full hardness again. She put him against her labia, and slowly started to sink down onto him. His eyes rolled back in his head as she rolled her hips, pulling him even deeper. She sat back, and started to rock back and forth, her pussy gripping him every step of the way. They both began to breathe harder, and shorter. Their thrusts synchronized to perfection as their bodies remembered how to pleasure each other. He started to push himself upward, towards her core, she leaned back to improve the angle, and began to massage her clit, and play with her breasts. Soon, they came together in another shattering mutual orgasm, with her digging her nails into his chest. He gasped torn between the pain and the pleasure. She slid off him, and undid the tie binding his wrist. He wrapped his arm around her and kissed her deeply, softly. She reached up and undid the handcuff, allowing him to massage his bruised wrist. They embraced each other for a few minutes, reveling in the afterglow. Quickly, sleep began to overtake them, but as he drifted off, he heard her whisper, "Happy Anniversary."