I’ve been racking my brain for
weeks trying to figure out what to give my husband, George for our anniversary
–you’d figure that after being married to a person for 12 years, the gift giving
would become easier, but it doesn’t.
After all, what do you give a man who has everything?
The one thing that I wish I could
give him is time –there never seems to be enough of it. Between work and the children, friends and
family, community obligations or just things that come up in everyday chaos; I’d
like to give him a moment in time that he would always remember, and that we
could always relive, whenever we felt the inclination.
When the day starts winding down, and the
children had settled for the night, I steal away to the bedroom, leaving George
reading or watching the television. After dressing in the new black lace
nightgown I bought especially for the occasion, I slip on my favorite black
thong, light scented candles and place them around the darkened bedroom and
bathroom. I start the water in the
shower –hot, just the way I like it… then I head for George.
Entering the room where he is
relaxing after our day together, I stand there watching him…adoring him…loving
him, the way I had so many years ago –the day we became one. And as I did, the night we became man and
wife.
When he notices me across the room,
I slip off the thong and saunter over to him, never breaking eye contact. Taking my panties in hand, I spread the
crotch in front of him –he inhales slowly and as he exhales, I watch his nature
rise. George is tempted to touch me, but
I stop him and whisper in his ear that the show is about to begin. I step back from him and remove the nightgown
so he can see all of me. Rubbing my
hands over my breasts, I squeeze them before my thumbs stroke each nipple
–pulling them taut, then letting them bounce back.
I tell George there is one seat
left for the show, and I’ll gladly escort him to his chair. He follows me to the bathroom and sits. Once in there, I tell him the final rule: he can’t touch until the show is over. As I get into the shower, George
undresses. He is fully erect, and I am
in rare form; I swear, if George only knew how arousing I find the scent of
vanilla riding on the misty steam of a shower, he’d never let me leave the bedroom.
When I step into the shower, I let
the hot water fall across my body and rub down my flesh. I turn away from him. George is curious as to what I have in
store. I pour out a small amount of
Jasmine scented body oil into my palms and begin to massage my ass. I rub each cheek individually then spread
them apart at the same time giving George a sneak peak at the finale.
When I turn to face him, he his
stroking his dick in long deliberate strokes…the show isn’t over. I pour out some more oil, but this time,
letting it drip from the bottle onto my breasts –following the streams of water
over my body. I move my hands down
across my breasts eventually to my pussy, and massage my clitoris all under his
watchful gaze.
I invite him into the shower and squeeze
some of the oil onto his chest, allowing it to drip onto him slowly. I touch him –smoothing the oil into his
skin: his nipples, his neck, his
shoulders and arms. I pour a little more
onto him, but this time on his dick. I
take it in hand and stroke him –down his length to his balls, briefly
interrupting the flow for a quick juggle, before I rub up his shaft, applying
slight pressure along the upper curvature.
I make it to the head where I use two hands –one to continue stroking
him, the palm of the other rubbing in a circular motion down on the head. George is feeling it as am I, and I’m ready
to fuck.
I stop the caresses and turn away from
him. I back my ass up to him and shift
it from side to side then up and down.
His dick is between my legs. I
bend over and tell him the show is over and he has permission to touch.
No comments:
Post a Comment