Our 'Special' Anniversary

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Wife humiliates hubby, & hubby gets even.
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WARNING!

This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!

(c) copyright 2002 All Rights Reserved

* * * * *

I mean, what the hell would you have done if you had been faced with the same dilemma as I was last year? It was Sherry's doing, I mean she instigated the whole thing, I wouldn't have thought about doing anything so radical if it hadn't been for what she did. Oh well, I guess you can't tell me if I did right or not unless you hear my story, so here goes.

Who's Sherry, you ask? She's my wife, and at the time of the 'incident' we had been married for eighteen years, and we had gotten into the not-all-that-uncommon rut. Yeah, our sex life sucked, but with us it was more than that. We just got on each other's nerves much too often, we argued more and fucked less.

Even though we had had problems, I had never been unfaithful to her and I don't have any reason to believe that she had ever cheated on me. I didn't know about Sherry, but in order to keep some semblance of sanity, I jacked-off a lot, it had become easier and less complicated than trying to fuck her. Oh, we fucked, but it was very infrequent and decidedly uninspired.

After several years of frustration, I had reached a crossroads, I couldn't take any more of the then current state of affairs. Something had to be done, either we revitalized our marriage, or called it quits. Status quo was not an option.

I made the decision to take the initiative and make an attempt to give our relationship a much-needed shot in the arm. The week before the nineteenth anniversary of our first date, I stepped out of character and became a romantic. I phoned Sherry at work and asked her out on a date for the upcoming Saturday, which fell nearest the anniversary. I suggested that we return to the club where we had gone on our first date, for an evening of dining and dancing. She readily accepted my invitation and seemed very pleased, almost giddy. It was as if we were starting over again, on our first date, 'returning to the scene of the crime,' if you will.

On the big day, I finished getting ready before Sherry, and drove off alone. I'm sure that my departure had puzzled her, but I had a plan. I went to the local florist and bought a small bouquet of flowers. When I returned, I parked the car in the driveway, in lieu of pulling into the garage, went up to the front door and rang the doorbell. It was as if we were still single and I was picking her up at her house for our first date, trying to make a good impression with the flowers.

She was pleasantly surprised as I presented her with the flowers at the door, and she greeted me with a big smile and giddily invited me in. She said that she'd be ready in just a few more minutes - just like a woman, she kept her date waiting.

I waited for about ten minutes, and when she finally appeared in front of me, she was all smiles. I'll have to admit that she looked pretty damn good in her sleek black outfit with the tight pants, and I told her so. I stood, took her hand and we proceeded out the door, into the car and on to the restaurant, radiant smiles on both our faces.

Dinner went fine, but we didn't seem to have much to talk about. We each caught ourselves on the verge of saying something upsetting to the other - bad habits are hard to break.

After dinner, we moved into the lounge and sat at a table near the dance floor. I waited for the DJ to play a slow song, and when he did, I asked her to dance. We proceeded to dance to all of the slow, and even a few of the fast songs over the next hour, or so. I was beginning to feel that things were coming together, as I had originally hoped. I held her close and she put her head on my shoulder as we danced to the slow numbers. Both of us were feeling very mellow and romantic.

The mood changed in a hurry.

We decided to sit out a fast dance, and as soon as we sat ourselves down, a man that I didn't know came over to our table. "Sherry! It is Sherry Johnson, isn't it?" He asked as if he were an old friend of hers.

She recognized him immediately, "Ken, Ken Blake! Yes, I'm Sherry, but it's not Johnson any more."

She got to her feet and they hugged, obviously they were old friends. She introduced us and asked him to join us.

That was a mistake.

The two of them monopolized the conversation, as one might expect, after not having seen each other in many years. I gathered from what I over heard, that they were former lovers. He had been living out of state and was in town visiting his mother, and decided to stop in at the old watering hole for a drink or two. He said that he had spotted her out on the dance floor and waited until we sat down to say hello.

He complimented Sherry on how good she looked after not seeing her for more than nineteen years. She loved the compliments and attention he was paying her, I became oblivious to the both of them. Actually, I hadn't seen her glow like that in years; he must have stirred up some pleasant memories.

I felt a twinge of jealousy.

He went on to tell her what a big mistake he had made by not pursuing her with more vigor, way back when. He said that he had never married because he could never find anybody that could compare to her.

Boy! Did she eat that up! I almost puked.

After about thirty minutes of conversation, he asked her to dance. He didn't bother to ask if it was OK with me, nor did she. They merely ignored me and got up to dance.

I became a little miffed at the snub.

I watched as they danced and noticed that the gap between their bodies became progressively smaller as time went on. They stayed on the floor for the entire slow set, a fast set and then another slow set. By the end of the last slow song, they were in a very tight embrace (zero gap), and I felt another distinct twinge of jealousy. Her head was on his shoulder with both arms around his neck, and both of his hands were on her lower back just above her shapely buns.

As time dragged on, I became increasingly miffed, as I sat by myself with nothing to do except twiddle my thumbs and watch the two of them. Well, that's not exactly the truth. There were a few other good-looking women out there that I noticed and followed with my eyes, sometimes drooling a bit. I always have enjoyed looking, but as I said earlier, I never touched.

Ken and Sherry took a break for the next fast set, and I took the opportunity to ask her to dance, but she refused, saying she was tired and needed a rest. I waited for the next slow song, but before I had a chance to get up, Ken had grabbed her hand and had her up on the dance floor again. She beamed as if he had just rescued her from a fate worse than death.

I was pissed and bemoaned the fact that my wife was paying more attention to Ken than to me.

When the second slow song started, I decided that I needed to take some affirmative action. I got up, tapped Ken on the shoulder and cut in. Neither he nor Sherry seemed especially pleased with my action, but both relented so as not to cause a scene.

As soon as I had her in my arms, I asked, "why are you allowing Ken to monopolize you on our special anniversary date?"

"It's so good seeing him after such a long time, and we have a lot of catching up to do. You should be a little more understanding."

"I might be just a little more understanding if this wasn't our special anniversary date. Besides, you're my wife and it appears to me that his intentions aren't exactly honorable."

"You're way off base about his intentions, and I'll make it up to you some other time."

Ken cut in at the beginning of the next slow number, Sherry beamed and I frowned. I didn't get to dance with her the rest of the evening; I just sat and watched as they held each other close during every slow number. I even thought that I saw them kissing when they were on the far side of the dance floor, but I could've been wrong about that, the lighting was poor. Of course I tried to make the best of a bad situation by continuing to ogle some of the other lookers on the dance floor.

One gorgeous redhead caught my attention and held it for some time. Our eyes met several times when she and her dance partner came near where I was sitting. Her eyes seemed to sparkle when we locked gazes, or maybe it was my imagination, but I found some solace in that twinkle in her eyes. I noticed that she wasn't with anyone in particular and never danced with the same guy twice in succession.

The redhead danced out of my view, and I began to stew again, becoming angrier with Sherry by the minute. I tried very hard to maintain some self-control, but had a great deal of difficulty.

When they finally came off the dance floor, Sherry sat down next to me and Ken went off toward the Men's room.

I got up, took her hand, and told her, "we're leaving."

She pulled her hand away, and said, "no, not yet." She paused and seemed deep in thought. The look on her face was one of indecision, and maybe a little trepidation.

She looked up at me with pleading eyes, then looked away, and finally came out with, "honey, I have something to tell you."

"What might that be?"

"You know how you've been telling me about those erotic stories that you've been reading on the Internet, you know, the ones about husbands who want their wives to sleep with other guys?"

I had a feeling that I wasn't going to like where this was headed, "yes, what about them?"

"Tonight I'm going to give you your chance to experience what it would be like."

I was shocked at first, then pissed as I responded, "you're kidding, right?"

"No, I'm not kidding, I'm going with Ken to his place," she said very unemotionally and matter-of-factly, as if it was an every day occurrence. "You would like that, wouldn't you?" She had dropped her head and broke eye contact with me as she asked that question, knowing full well what the answer would be.

"HELL NO! I wouldn't like that!" I shouted. Several people turned to look at me, as I hadn't realized just how loud I was. I took a deep breath, lowered my voice, clenched my teeth and proceeded, "if you'll remember correctly, I not only told you about those stories, I also told you that I couldn't see how those husbands could do that. I'm not one of those guys in those stories, I don't want my wife to fuck anyone other than me."

She gathered herself together, took a long pause to summon the courage, then told me, "well, I hope you can get used to the idea, because I'm going with him. I'm so turned on that I just have to have him, and he wants me. Besides, it's not like I've never slept with him before, we were lovers before I met you."

I was dumbfounded, almost to the point of being speechless, but I was able to tersely remind her of the difference between then and now. "You weren't married to me back then."

As I recovered from the initial shock, my heart began to race, and I became flushed and very angry, with Sherry, and with the prick, Ken. Before we had a chance to continue the discussion, Ken returned to the table, stood behind Sherry's chair, placed his hands on her shoulders and glared defiantly at me. It was as if he was an animal ready to do battle over the female-in-heat, it mattered not to him that she was my wife.

Since Ken was decidedly bigger than me, and I wasn't much of a fighter anyway, I composed myself as best I could and made an effort to get her to change her mind, "Sherry, I don't want you to go with him. You're my wife, please come home with me, now."

"No, I've made up my mind, I'm going with Ken. You'll just have to get over it," she said as she got up, looked lustily into his eyes and took his hand. He turned to me and glared defiantly and smirked. He didn't have to say anything; he won the battle without a fight from me. The bitch-in-heat had made her choice, and I lost.

'A fine anniversary date this has turned out to be,' I thought to myself, as I pondered my next move.

As they turned to walk away, I stood up and made one last plea, "Sherry, please don't do this."

She turned back, looked at me for a moment, turned again and left with Ken without uttering another word. It didn't take her long to make her decision, she preferred to fuck Ken and not give a damn about me.

I was stunned, I was pissed, I was humiliated, you name it. I could just feel the stares of the people near our table who had to have heard some of what was going on. I just sat there for what seemed like hours, but was only five or ten minutes, not knowing how to react or what to do.

As I was trying to decide what to do, I looked over at the redhead as she was seated at the bar. I stared, but didn't really focus on her, as I had Sherry and Ken on my mind. When she finally looked my way, our eyes made contact again and I quickly snapped out of my self-pity and the healing process began. Those beautiful green eyes of hers were bedroom eyes if I had ever seen them, my heart skipped a beat and my cock twitched, as if ready for action.

With a combination of lust and revenge in my heart, I strode over to the bar and asked her to dance, she readily accepted.

By the end of the third song, I had my hands on her ass and was pulling her crotch into my thigh, where she could easily feel my hard-on. When the song ended, the DJ started to pack up.

I didn't want the night to end right there, and while I pondered my next move, Judy said, "if I'm the cause of that bulge in your pants, I feel obligated to do something about it, your place or mine?"

My heart skipped a few beats and all lingering thoughts of Sherry and Ken disappeared. "You, beautiful lady, are most definitely the cause, my place will do, let's go."

We hopped in the car and began the thirty-minute drive to my house. As soon as we pulled out of the parking lot, Judy reached over, unzipped my pants and fished my hard cock out from its hiding place. She began stroking it slowly, and proceeded to give me the most wonderfully soft, hand-job that I had ever had. She alternately stroked and pinched the base to keep me from cuming. It was a damned good thing that I was traveling at a slow rate of speed, or I might have lost control of the car.

As soon as we entered the door to the house, we attacked one another, as we frantically tried to disrobe each other while lip locked in a passionate kiss. As clumsy as it was, we were both naked in a matter of minutes, at which time I picked her up and carried her up to the bedroom, and laid her down onto the bed.

I positioned myself between her spread-eagled legs and went right for the grand prize. I began to lick her engorged lips - up and down, up and down, several times. I finally flicked her clit a few times and she came hard and fast, bucking her hips and screaming, "oh yes, yes." I eased up for several seconds, then gently began flicking her clit again. She moaned and quivered continuously, as if she were having a series of small orgasms, then began to buck her hips again. She grabbed my head and pulled it into her crotch and bucked furiously and screamed loudly as another major orgasm hit, better than the first.

I waited a few minutes, repositioned myself, then took hold of my cock, rubbed the head up and down her slit a couple of times, and rammed it home, into her velvety smooth and very wet pussy. We moaned in unison at the initial penetration.

I fucked her like there was no tomorrow, hard and fast. I came very quickly, but continued to pump her with my semi-limp cock until she came again, after which I collapsed onto her chest. I rolled over beside her as my cock slid out of her well-fucked and very sloppy pussy.

With a creature as beautiful as she lying next to me, it didn't take me long to recover, and we went at it again, this time doggy style. After a couple of hours of fucking and sucking and licking we dozed off, totally spent. When we awoke, late the next morning, we proceeded to fuck again, this time with her riding me.

Judy was fantastic, without a doubt the best piece of ass that I had ever had. She was even nice enough to tell me that I was the best that she had ever had, too. She may have been shading the truth a bit, but I didn't care, she made me feel damn good about myself.

We continued to cuddle, fondle, suck, lick and fuck until the middle of the afternoon. When we both had had enough, we showered and dressed. Just as I had finished dressing, Ken and Sherry pulled up.

Sherry! I had completely forgotten about her. I looked out the window and smiled as I saw her emerging from the passenger side of Ken's car. 'Maybe she and I ought to compare notes to see who had the better time,' I thought to myself.

Sherry got out of the car, and Ken pulled away as she entered the front door. I took a seat in the family room and waited for her. Judy was still upstairs in the bathroom putting on the finishing touches.

Sherry approached me very slowly and deliberately, acting extremely guilty. I looked up at her and smiled, actually it was more of a smirk, a reaction that she hadn't expected. I think it put her at ease a little, but she was still quite reserved. "Honey, I-I'm so sorry for last night, can you ever forgive me?"

I decided to have a little fun with her, as I'd made no decision regarding our marriage or any part of the complex situation. "Last night? What about last night?"

She got a puzzled, surprised look on her face, then went on, "you know, with Ken and I."

"Oh, Ken, you mean the old boyfriend that you ran into at the club and left with?"

Noting the facetious tone in my voice, she got a little peeved. "Yes, are you trying to be smart with me?"

I smirked and said somewhat tersely, "smart with you? Why would I be smart with you when you humiliated me and took off with another man?" That's certainly no reason to be smart with you, is it?"

The guilt overwhelmed her again, tears formed in her eyes as she lowered her head and attempted to apologize once again, "I-I didn't mean to humiliate you. I was just swept off my feet and lust ruled my brain. I'm so, so sorry, please find it in your heart to forgive me."

Sherry didn't like to talk dirty, or explicit, whatever you want to call it, so I egged her on once again, "you mean you were thinking with your pussy, isn't that right?"

"Y-yes, I guess so."

"Say it then."

"I-I was thinking with my p..., my p..., I can't say it!" She shouted as she burst into tears.

Without any sympathy, I sternly replied, "if you want to have any chance of getting my forgiveness, you had better say it, now!"

She looked up with the tear filled, pleasing eyes, saw that I was perfectly serious and started again, "I was thinking with my, my pussy. There, I said it!" She seemed relieved.

At that moment, Judy entered the room, sauntered seductively over to me, put her arms around me gave me a playfully passionate kiss. Sherry took one look at Judy and the scene before her and her jaw fell open, she was stunned, probably more so than I was the previous night when she told me that she was leaving with Ken. Before she had a chance to say anything, I quickly made the formal introductions.

Sherry stammered and Judy smiled, winked at me and said, "I'm pleased to meet you. You're a very lucky lady to have a husband like lover boy here. He's quite a roll-in-the-hay." She punched me lightly on the shoulder as if to add emphasis to her statement, and I smirked as my chest swelled.

Sherry still couldn't get any meaningful words out of her mouth, as she was in a state of shock, still wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

Before Sherry had a chance to recover, I took Judy by the hand and proceeded out the front door. We were gone before Sherry had composed herself enough to say anything other than some incoherent babble that I didn't understand and ignored.

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