The Anniversary Gift (Re-Connections) (3 page)

T-Minus
Nine Days to Anniversary

The beeping of the alarm awakens me, and I feel Ethan at my back, spooned up against me. I luxuriate in his warmth; it’s been a long time since we’ve slept close together. He stirs and whispers, “Too early,” as I hush the clock and its unwelcome call. Oh, how I wish I wasn’t leaving, so that I could take advantage of this closeness. I think it is a good sign that he is drawn to me in his sleep. Why he can’t be drawn to me when he is conscious is a question I need to consider. But that will have to wait until I’m home.

I slip out of bed and into the shower for a quick wake up, l
eaving the water cool on my skin, the better to awaken me. I dress hurriedly, sweep on my make-up without thinking, and I’m soon ready to head out of the door.

Ethan
is still sleeping when I walk back into the room, one arm folded over his stomach, the other flung back over his head. A stir of tenderness moves through me, and I realize that I’ve not only forgotten how to be sexual, I’ve also forgotten how to be tender. I’ve forgotten how to appreciate him, or even take the time to really look at him.

I silently promise
Ethan that this too will change, as soon as I get back. On an impulse, I write a quick note and then tape it to the bathroom mirror.

“I love you,” it says.
“Be preparing for the thrill of your lifetime.”

Before I can change my mind, I hurry out of the room, down the stairs and into
the waiting taxi. Something inside of me melts deliciously, as on my ride to the airport, I imagine how those thrills will play out.

An hour later, I’m checking in, relieved that the morning rain isn’t causing delays.

“Kate,” says a deep voice behind me, “wait up, I’m right behind you.”
Turning, I see Brian, a fellow manager at the firm. While my job is marketing, he is director of sales, and we often make presentations together. I smile fondly at Brian, glad he is coming along. He is fun, handsome and always good for a laugh. I find myself grinning up into his eyes.

After security
and a cup of coffee to hold us over, we are soon in first class, a perk of our jobs. We settle into our companionable rhythm, going over the day and tweaking the power point until it is perfect. With a half hour of flight time left, we close the laptop and relax.

“How’s life outside of the office?” Brian asks, and I’m momentarily panicked at h
ow close I come to bursting into tears. “What’s wrong?” he questions, but I just shake my head and say nothing. Taking my hand in his, the look of concern he offers me is almost my undoing. A tear slips down my cheek and he presses a cocktail napkin into my hand.

“That rough, huh?” he sympathizes.
I nod but gather myself in mortification.

“
Be professional
,” The Bitch in My Head hisses, “
this is your co-worker, don’t you dare do this right now!
” With a gulp of orange juice, I pull myself together and apologize.

“Hey, no apologies needed,” he assures me
. “We all have bad days now and then.” He continues to hold my hand, thumb stroking tenderly on my soft flesh.

I realize what he’s doing and gently pull my hand away
. “I’m okay.”

“Want to talk about it?” he asks.

My eyes widen
, and I have to strangle a laugh. “I don’t think so.” My head plays through the litany of bullets points I could have so easily shared.

I can see it now
. “My husband wants a threesome, I have two red whore bags hiding in my closet filled with kinky toys that a little old lady taught me how to use, and I’m having fantasies about having sex with other women.” Yes, that would have cut to the chase, and I giggle at the thought. He raises his eyebrow, but doesn’t push me. We both settle back into companionable silence.

Not long afterwards, the wheels of the plane are safely on the tarmac
, and we are pulling up to the gate.

“If you change your mind about talking, I’m here,” he says gently.

I smile my thanks
as I stand up to reach for my bag.

I rocked it! The presentation went flawlessly, and I’ve landed a new client with millions in potential income. I’m ecstatic as Brian and I leave the building, heading toward our hotel. I giggle as he holds up his hand for a fist bump and offers to treat me to dinner. I’m so thrilled that I hug him, right there on the street but immediately pull back as soon as his arms enclose around me, sobering as the familiar charge lights into me at his touch. He is so handsome … and so tall … and so beautiful. His knowing look tells me he understands, and he gallantly turns away to hail a cab.

After dinner, I leave him at the elevator with a bright
, “Have a great night,” and a cheerful wave. Whew … what is wrong with me?

“
You’re coming alive inside,”
says my Inner Goddess, and I quite readily believe her to be true. I’m finding myself feeling everything, noticing everything. The smells, the beauty of the world, the heat or coldness of a room. I’m definitely coming back to life.  Funny how I didn’t even notice that I wasn’t fully living, that I had settled into a routine and had become bound to my to-do list.  Yes, I’m absolutely coming back to life.

In my room, I change into my comfortable pajamas and settle on to the sitting room couch to work on my final presentation
for the morning. I’ve landed the deal, but now must wow them with some immediate ideas on how to grow their market appeal.

A knock on my door lifts my head from my work.
“Who is it?” I ask, glancing at the time.

“
It’s me.” Brian is at my door! Why? Opening it up, I welcome him in with a questioning lift of my eyebrow.

“I thought we could work on this together,” he says.
“That ok with you?”

My heart rate increases, but I nod and lead him over to the sitting area,
offering him a drink. At his consent, I pour wine into a plastic cup and offer it as I sit down as far away as possible.

An hour later, we’ve nearly completed the project
, and I’m grateful he decided to drop by. We do work well together and have gotten more done side-by-side than we possibly could have separately. As I smile up at him, his eyes change, grow sultry. My lips part as my breathing stops. I know that look; it’s desire and it is directed at me.

“
No,”
the Bitch in My Head screams.

“
Yes,”
gasps my Inner Goddess.

“
Shit,”
one of them exclaims as I sit in absolute stillness as this beautiful man leans toward me. Inches from my face, he breathes my name and the warm air of his words caress my face. His hands run up my arms, over my shoulders, up my neck and into my hair, fisting handfuls and pulling my face up. He lowers his mouth to mine softly, slowly, and rubs his lips over mine gently.

“Kate,” he breathes. “I’m sorry
.” His lips trace down my jaw.

“
You’re married!”
my head is screaming. “
You can’t do this!”
But it feels so good; I don’t want to turn him away. I’m being seduced, and I’m feeling desired. How amazing to feel so desired. Is this so wrong?

“
Yes,”
my head screams again.

“Stop, please stop
.” My mouth finally produces the words, although I stifle a sob as I say them. “I can’t do this, please go.”

He stands, but pulls me with him. “I don’t regret kissing you
, Kate. I hope this doesn’t change our friendship, but I want you to know that I love you … I’ve loved you for so long now. I’ve kept my feelings to myself, not wanting to risk you hating me. Today on the plane, your unhappiness was painful to watch.  I only want to see you happy.”

I can only stare at
him, I have no words to respond.

“I won’t do this again,” he continues, “
but you need to know that what I feel for you isn’t lust, isn’t just desire, isn’t just me taking advantage of our being away or your sadness on the plane. I love you, and I respect you. I’ll go.”

My hands are on his forearms, grasping tighter with each and every word.
He loves me? How? When? My numb brain begins the slow process to awareness, and I feel myself leaning forward, my arms wrapping around his waist, my face on his chest.

Oh my
… what do I do? The hurt I have felt from Ethan after his anniversary request makes me want to lash out and bring him similar pain. My inner goodness rejects that thought. And there is more to consider - this amazingly bright and beautiful man standing here and holding me as if I’m a cherished family heirloom … I don’t wish to hurt him either. What do I do?

“I’m married,” I remind him.
“The thought of being with you sets every fiber of my being on fire. You can’t imagine how desperate I feel at the thought of turning you away. But I must. I can’t betray my husband, not even for you and the possibility of us. You are precious to me. I value our friendship and our relationship at work but I love my husband and need to make things right with him. Giving in to you will shame me, cause regrets that I don’t have the courage to face. Please understand,” I beseech him.

“Can I hold you
?” he asks. “Just for a little while.”

I feel myself nodding, feeling the love he has for me radiate through him at my ascent.
He leans down and picks me up, carrying me to my bed. At my protest, he quiets me with a kiss and promises, “It won’t go further than this.”

Lying in his arms
with his hands stroking my hair, he turns me onto my back and settles in beside me. He breathes in deeply and murmurs that I smell like heaven. I feel myself melting again, but am committed to allowing myself only this, no further, even as my belly squeezes in on itself tightly and I feel myself getting wet.

His hands grow bolder, down my arms, up my sides an
d touch the naked skin of my chest. He pauses there to stroke me, back and forth above my breasts, the soft strokes causing me to ache. He leans down to kiss me again, this time more urgently, his tongue on my lips. The sweetness of it as it slips inside my mouth causes me to respond in kind.

Oh my
… I love this, how cherished I feel, how loved I feel. But it is wrong. “Stop … please stop,” I whisper. “I don’t have the willpower to ask you again. If you care for me at all, I need you to stop.”

He
leans up on his elbow, gazing down at me with soft, understanding eyes. “I promise it will go no further, do you trust me?”

And it is those words that bring me to my sens
es, those words that give me the strength to sit up and then get up onto my feet. His words echo with the words of my husband only a few short days ago. “Do you trust me?” I shudder in remembrance.

“Please go,” I ask.

Brian smiles at me sadly, but with understanding in his eyes. He turns to gather his things, and my eyes can’t miss the huge erection causing a tent in his pants. I take a deep breath and I know that, although I’m doing the right thing, I’m missing a very special opportunity for some really amazing sex. I close my eyes, and in a moment hear the door open softly and then close. When I open my eyes again, he’s gone and I’m alone and my body begins to shake. I lie down on the bed and sob…in regret and in response to how close I was to betraying my marriage vows. Hot tears leak down my face as the pain of sending him away flows over me.

“
Perhaps he could be our third,” I think with venom. “Why must the third be female, after all?”

The next day I meet Brian in the lobby, to ride together
to our client’s office. “I’m sorry,” we both say in unison. Mutual smiles of understanding are a blessing … we’re ok, I know we can get past this.

The day drags by slowly, successful but lacking the same excitement that yesterday offered.
Back on the plane, Brian holds my hand. Nothing more, just the gentle caress of his thumb on my skin as we sail closer to home. Landing safely, Brian walks me to the baggage claim area, where to my surprise Ethan is waiting with a pretty bouquet of roses. I’m quite sure I’ll expire on the spot, but somehow my face splits open into a wide smile and my legs move toward him rapidly. As I wrap my arms around him, I swear to myself to never betray his trust. I pray in that moment for the strength to do what needs to be done to save my marriage.

When I unwrap myself from his embrace, Brian is gone.

T-Minus
Eight Days to Anniversary

After the sweetness of the airport welcome, things become polite and distant in the car. Why? Why can’t we communicate, talk past this oddness that seems to settle around us like a cloud?

“I’ve been thinking about your anniversary gift,” I whisper with a thumping heart.
Ethan’s hands grip the wheel tightly, but he doesn’t say a word. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make us work, even to find another woman for our bed. But I want to try something else first. Are you up for that?”

“I’m up for anything,” he finally says.
“With you, I’m up for anything at all.”

I melt at his soft words, realizing that it is up to me to take charge, me to set the tone for our new sexual relationship.
He is simply too nice, too kind, too much of a gentleman to make the first moves. It’s in him … I’ve experienced that part of him, but his deep down goodness is getting in his way.

Boldly, I put my hand on his thigh
. His muscles tense and he inhales quickly. I squeeze and feel the strength beneath my hands as I work my fingers down his knee. On the return trip up his leg, he glances over at me and his blue eyes darken. That’s all I need to become more daring. I run my hand between his legs and over the bulge in his pants.

“Kate,” he breathes.
“What are you doing?”

“Adding a dash of spice,” I say as I lean over and lay my head on his shoulder.

My shaking fingers reach his belt and slowly unbuckle it, force the button apart and slowly ease down the zipper. He lifts his hips up to help me and soon all that is left between his erection and me is the soft cloth of his boxer shorts.

Easing the material aside, I find skin
… hard but soft, and I begin to stroke his length up and down. A bead of moisture appears at the top, and I can’t resist moving my head down to lick it away.

His deep throaty growl seems to erupt from his toes, as one hand leaves the wheel and finds its way into
my hair.

“We’ll have an accident
, you’ve got to stop,” his shaky voice says even as he pushes my head back down into his lap. I smile … Jekyll and Hyde … the good man and bad boy … at war in our SUV. Who will win?

I open my mouth and suck on the head, flicking my tongue around the smooth edge.
I press down further, taking more of him into my mouth and then begin a steady pace of up and down. I suck hard, using my tongue, allowing it to twirl and whirl around his hardness.

A truck passes by
and honks its horn. I don’t care, let them watch … and the realization that I really don’t care, that fucking my man with my mouth is more important than what the world thinks is a complete and total surprise. I’ve never done this before, have always shied away from displays of public affection, but here I am giving a blow job to my husband on a busy highway in broad daylight.

“
Slut,”
the Bitch in My Head snarls at me.

“
You’re doing great
,” purrs my Inner Goddess. Once again, my voices are competing against each other. Who will win, I wonder of myself this time.

Ethan
’s hand tightens in my hair, creating a pain-pleasure mixture that sends bolts of lightning into the apex of my thighs. That delicious feeling spurs me on, and I increase my speed, with Grandma Sex Goddess’ words ringing in my ear.

“Pressure, warmth and wetness is the key
, my dear,” Grandma had explained just before demonstrating the proper blow job technique on a thick, skin-colored dildo. “Hold your hand close to your mouth for pressure and allow the warmth and wetness of your mouth do the rest.”

Up and down, up and down, with my tongue twirling and mouth sucking
and hand adding the pressure. The pace is frantic … his hips pick up their own speed as he thrusts deep into my throat. The head of his penis thickens, and I realize he is about to come. He pulls desperately at my head, knowing I have always had a revulsion against swallowing.

“Had,” I think firmly.
“I
used to have
a revulsion, but not anymore. I can do this, I can accept every part of this beautiful man.”

When I don’t lift my head, when he realizes I
am going to finish the job, a mighty roar of my name issues out of his throat as he spews forth his very essence into my mouth. He stops … completely stops moving, and I hear nothing except his desperate gasps for breath. I swallow … that wasn’t so bad … and my Inner Goddess nods her approval. I don’t dare look in the direction of the Bitch, I’m sure her head is over a toilet, gagging at the thought. I don’t care … I love this man, with all of my heart. I’m ashamed that I found this repulsive in the past, that I rejected knowing every part of him.

“I love you,” I breathe, as I lift my head and lean against his strong arm.

“I love you too,” he whispers, and my heart swells. “Thank you.”

“
What’s gotten in to you?” Ethan asks minutes later, but he says it with a laugh.

Emboldened by his good humor, I simply say
, “I’m on a mission.”

“What kind of mission
?” he asks.

“A mission to
rock your world and make our marriage better than before,” I reply. “But I want you to know, that if you still want a threesome by our anniversary, I’ll make that happen too. I’ve been giving a great deal of thought as to who to ask, and I’ll make a final decision by that date.”

“You will
?” He glances over at me in amazement.

“I will,” I promise.
And I figuratively cross my heart to seal the deal.

When we pull into the driveway of our very traditional home, I look at the clean lines, white siding and for the first time think
, “boring!” I look down at my navy slacks, pale blue cardigan and navy flats and think, “boring!” When did I become like this … so boring? I used to wear bright colors, trendy clothes, and fashionable shoes. Now … boring.

Looks like I need to spice up more than the bedroom, if I’m truly going to
commit to change. I need to identify all the other ways in which I’ve allowed my life to grow stale.

As I pull my boring luggage up the front sidewalk, my mind mulls around this concept of boring.
It isn’t bad. It could be worse. Perhaps I’m judging myself too harshly. But at the same time, I have allowed my life to become so … plain.

“
Because you are plain,”
screeches the Bitch in My Head. “
And you will always be plain.
” I sigh … remembering being left out of party invitations as a little girl, because I was “no fun.”

I was able to break away from that image for a while, but it seems that it has snuck back in without me even noticing.
And now my marriage is at stake because of my penchant toward dullness. I sigh again, and then promise myself to break the cycle … to add fun and life back into my world.

Starting
… right … now.

His back is to me
; he’s fitting the key into the door. I press up against him, right there on the front porch, snaking my arms around his waist.

Oh
yes, I forgot what an amazing body he has, as keeping fit is one of his priorities. I feel the muscles ripple through him as he stills and then continues to open the door. Not letting go, I abandon my boring luggage outside and duck walk behind him, grinning at how awkward but right hanging on to him feels. Once inside, still at his back, I slide my hands down to his crotch and feel the bulge there begin to grow. He turns in my arms and lifts both hands to my face, looking deeply into my eyes.

“Be rough with me,” I
whisper and his eyes widen in surprise.

“How rough?” he finally asks.

“Very,” I reply and he backs me up against the wall.
He leans his weight into me, pressing me hard into the solid surface at my back. When I gasp for breath, he releases me but covers my mouth with his before I get the air I need. Suddenly, he turns me around and pushed me hard against the wall, and with one hand in my hair, pulls my head back sharply.

“Did you like sucking
me?” he asks. “Did you like making me come? Did you like tasting me?” I try to nod my head, but the pressure is too great. I strangle out a yes. A quick thrill of fear passes through me … Mr. Hyde is back … this mysterious stranger who has been hidden inside of this man I thought I knew so well.

While I’m st
ill facing the wall, Ethan begins to kiss and bite the nape of my neck. I shiver at the sweet pain that erupts from the bite of his teeth.

“Stop,” I say
, and he immediately backs away. As I turn, I see the confusion on his face. “Not stop stop, just give me a moment.”  The relief on his face is immediate.

I dash up to my room and dive into my closet for the hidden sack of goodies I purchased only a few days ago.
Finding what I’m looking for, I quickly begin to strip. In only a few moments, I’ve pulled on the slip of clothing that Grandma helped me pick out. A mask is around my neck and I have the candle, feather and flogger in my hands. I pick up the leather handcuffs I had hesitated to buy, still eyeing them worryingly.  My heart is pounded so hard and I think my body has forgotten how to exchange carbon dioxide for oxygen so I take a couple of deep breaths, give myself a mental shake and with a voice much more steady than I expect, say “Come to me.”

“
Come to me
?” the Bitch In My Head laughs.  “
Is that the best you can do
?”

I mentally sucker punch her with a hard right hook
and am deeply gratified when she drops to the floor, out cold.  I take another deep and steadying breath, searching around for my Inner Goddess who appears to be hiding behind the curtains.

I hear his footsteps grow louder
yet somehow more distant as the rush of blood in my ears begins to deafen me.

He enters the room and stops
… dead still … and the look of astonishment couldn’t have been plainer. He quickly recovers and begins walking toward me, pure sex in his eyes.

“Be rough,” I remind him
, and he nods his assent. His hands move into my hair, sharply pulling my head back and his lips find my throat.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard,” he growls, and a thrill of expectation runs through me.
Sliding his hands from my hair, past my shoulders and down my arms, he takes the toys from my grasp. He tosses them onto the bed and pushes me down beside them.

Very quickly, he straddles me, holding me down with his weight.
A quick reach of his hand produces the leather handcuffs, and I groan with fear and excitement.

“Don’t move,” he instructs me as he cuffs one of the leather bands around my wrist.
Pulling me up, he loops the cuffs around the post of the bed, and quickly secures the other. He stands up, looking down at me, and begins unbuttoning his shirt. Shrugging it from his shoulders, he glances at the other items on the bed.

“A candle?” he questions.
“What shall we do with this?” A book of matches in the nightstand is all it takes to get that fire going. He sits the candle on the nightstand and takes up the next thing on the bed. The feather. He grins and straddles me once again. For the first time, he notices the black mask around my neck, and he gently pulls it up to cover my eyes. In total darkness, my hearing becomes louder and my other senses come alive.

I feel a tickle move down my b
ody … the feather! I recognize its softness. I’m so scantily dressed that a great deal of my skin is exposed and the feather covers every inch.

Ah! I gasp as hot liquid drips onto my skin.
The candle, I realize, as the pain turns to pleasure and he caresses the warm spot with his tongue. Feather, candle, tongue … he sets a rhythm that causes each of my senses to take notice. Pleasure, pain, pleasure … it becomes difficult to know when one stops and the other begins.

After a few moments, I feel the weight on the bed shift as he lifts himself off of me.
He grabs me roughly around my hips and flips me over, causing my cuffed wrists to cross over themselves. I’m embarrassed; my bare ass in its sexy thong is completely exposed to him. I imagine him above me, looking down.

A slap on my bottom startles me,
then he rubs and kisses the place that must now be turning red. A slap again, on the other side, followed by kisses and rubs that leave me squirming. He parts my legs widely with his knee and the third slap lands straight on my sex. Oh my … that one feels amazing, especially the feel of his tender rub and kisses through the material of my panties. I feel his tongue press into me, the soft material his only barrier from dipping his tongue in deep. He straightens and slaps me again … harder … and I cry out in alarm and something else. Rubs and licks follow the sequence that he has set and some logical side of my brain realizes that he works in patterns. He always works in patterns.

His
hand continues to rub my behind, as the bed shifts once again. Something hard yet smooth runs down my body. I recognize the flogger, and I nearly swoon.