The place was gorgeous, perhaps the nicest place Tracie had ever stayed. Will had truly outdone himself selecting the hotel for their special weekend. There was marble tile, lush carpets, a beautiful open air foyer that seemed large enough to host a ball game… nothing was out of place. Class, she thought. This is that intangible quality of class. She wondered how much money it had set him back. Tracie looked at the clerk behind the desk in the lobby of the hotel. The clerk smiled and ran through her usual greeting script.

Tracie interrupted her after noticing her nametag. “Marsha,” she said, wondering who in this day and age still named a child Marsha, “I’m meeting my husband here later. He’ll be paying for the room, he’s reserved it online. I’ll be needing to check in early though. It’s our Anniversary, and” She leaned in closer to the girl, “I want it to be special.” Marsha smiled knowingly, as if she’d ever bedded more than a drunken frat boy.

Enacting Will’s fetish tonight for their Anniversary had been on Tracie’s mind for a month, ever since she caught him online looking at some particularly interesting sites. She’d read erotica, looked at some pornography, tried to get herself into the headspace to be what he wanted on his year. A Domme. He’d been a sport on all of her choices for their special Anniversary games, and she wanted to go all-out for him this time.

Marsha took her ID and found the reservation, then issued her the key.

“Tell my husband Happy Anniversary when he checks in, would you dear?” Tracie she said as she walked away. “And tell him I’ve been upstairs getting ready.” That should drive up his blood pressure on the elevator ride to the room, she thought. Marsha nodded and her stock smile popped back on her face as the next group of guests arrived.

Will’s hands shook as he handed his credit card over to the young girl at the front desk. He felt paranoid, as if somehow she knew what was in store for him behind the heavy door to their suite in this four-star hotel. She smiled innocently and confirmed the billing, then passed him his room key. “Your wife already has her key, Mr. Hawthorn. She said she needed to get a few things ready before you arrived, and to say Happy Anniversary.”

He gulped. He’d come straight from work, and his wife Tracie had been off today. He felt the blood rush from his face to his dick and almost fainted. What exactly was she planning? How many of his wish list of fantasies was she going to give him this year?

He managed out a soft, “Thank you” before taking back his card and putting it back in his wallet.

He had took his overnight bag with him. Whatever toys Tracie needed she would bring. The check-in girl smiled again as he walked off toward the elevators. The door wait felt interminable, and he pushed the thing five or six times before it opened. He knew it did nothing to speed it along, but his anticipation of the night was quickly growing to a giddy fear.

There was a couple in the elevator already when the door dinged and opened. Will seriously considered waiting for another car so as to not stand under those bright lights in his condition. He was so horny he felt like he was twitching. Spastic, like a pubescent boy. But he wanted upstairs too badly to wait. He got in and the couple unconsciously moved slightly away from him. He stood in the corner before realizing he hadn’t pushed his button. He checked the key number and pressed his floor. The couple got off before him, and he could hear the irritation in his breathing at the delay they were causing him. The elevator car was mirrored from waist height up to the ceiling. He smoothed his hair and straightened his tie, then shot his cuffs out from under his jacket sleeves. It was as smooth as he’d get, he thought. The elevator dinged. He was here.

For the past 5 years, ever since the ‘problem year’ when they’d gone to the couples therapist, they’d given each other a list, with an item added each year, of fetishes they’d like to try. No judgments, no incredulity. If the other partner wasn’t willing to try it, it simply never came up. Tracie had gone first when it started, then him, then her… now in year 6, it was Will’s turn again. He knew what was on his list this year, and what hadn’t been done from previous years, and any of them would make a night that would weaken his knees. He could hardly contain himself. He knew one thing…his buddies didn’t seem to remember or care about their anniversaries. Will never forgot his.

He found their room and knocked softly before trying his key. The lights were low. Tracie had obviously brought her own lamp to ensure there was a proper mood possible. There was silence except for the creek of the door and the swish of Tracie’s stockings as she crossed her legs. His dick was immediately hard. She sat before him like a queen on her throne, confidence radiating from her in a sultry wave.

She was taller than him, which was what first attracted him to her in college. Even seated her legs looked long and sleek, the black stockings held up by garter straps connected to a lacy garter belt. She wore no panties that he could see, but with her legs crossed it was impossible to be sure. He could feel the small sticky wet spot forming in his underwear as he noticed the corset, her breasts pouring out the top, her waist cinched to nothing. It made her posture flawless, stock-straight in the chair. It gave a proper and dominating look to her. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun, so dark brown as to look black in the dim light. Her lips looked the color of blood and she smiled at him.

“Strip.” No hello, no lead in, no safeword. Alright then, Will thought.

He hung up his suit coat and took his shoes off, then stripped out of his pants and shirt.

“All the way.” Her voice was a purr. She reached over to the table beside her chair and sipped a drink. He removed his underwear, his half-hard dick leaking a string of pre-cum that dangled obscenely. She pointed at it. “Clean that up” she said.

He bent down and cupped his hand, gathering the sticky fluid. “Now come here.” He walked to her across the room, past the bed, to wear she sat. He heard the swish of her stockings again as she uncrossed her legs. Her eyes glinted in the lamplight. Between her thighs stood the strap-on Cock he’d had in his shopping cart on the website when she had first walked in on him a few months prior. He was pretty sure she’d been trying to catch him in the act of masturbating, and he’d been trying to let her, honestly. Kept the marriage alive, he thought, and she seemed to agree. Each year had walked a little further into kink. She’d not only caught him beating it, but beating it to a toy he wanted so badly he’d been willing to buy it on the off chance he could persuade her. Suffice to say it had raised his hopes for tonight. He didn’t know if he was afraid or excited about her possibly seeing the other open tabs. Anniversary lists or not, he wasn’t quite ready to try all the things that sometimes aroused him. Still, he liked where tonight seemed to be headed.

“Wipe it on my cock.” He did. The strap-on was huge, 9 inches if the website specifications were correct. 2 inches around. He looked down at his own, still leaking dick and suddenly felt significantly below average. Cuckolded by my own toy, he thought. “Now get on your knees.”

He slowly genuflected before his wife. “Eyes up” she whispered. He looked forward, his palms on the ground in front of him, and looked up into the piercing green eyes of his wife. She guided the slicked cock head to his lips. “Suck me” she said, never breaking her gaze. She began to feed her massive faux cock into her husband’s open mouth and down his throat, marking her territory inside his body with her prosthetic. He gagged and she let him up, but kept her hands on either side of his head, fingernails lovingly teasing through his hair as she guided him up and down on her pole. She smiled, her eyes pulling his to her, looking into him and making him hers.

“Good” she cooed. “Now on the bed.” He got on the bed, on his hands and knees. “No, sissy. On your back so I can see you.” He rolled over, suddenly irrationally nervous about having his secret fantasy fulfilled.

She reached and got a tube of lubricant from where she’d put it earlier, in the drawer of the nightstand. A squirt directly on her cock, and another squirt into her hand. She warmed it between her palms and then started working it into his ass. Her flingers probed and teased at his ass until one slipped inside. He jerked, but she added a second finger. With her other hand, she began alternately stroking his cock, then hers, then his, and so on. They were both lube-slicked soon enough. She took her fingers from him and he was shocked to feel sad at the emptiness somehow. It was filled soon enough.

Tracie smiled at him and placed the head of her cock at the entrance of his ass. She pushed forward, giving him soft shushings as he started to wince and whimper. “Hush now,” she said. “You’re all lubed up, and I’ll be gentle…” She grinned.

He knew that face. ‘Mischievous Tracie’ could be a scary thing or a fun thing or sometimes both. He gasped. The head of her cock popped past his sphincter and her lubed up hand went from his cock to his throat.

She kicked her hips forward and thrust into him, causing a scream. Her strokes were long, the full shaft sawing into him as his gorgeous wife fucked away. She was radiant with power. She lifted his legs high into a V and slid off the bed, standing in the room. She dragged him to the edge with her, never leaving his ass, and continued to rub her monster against his prostate.
Her hand returned to his dick and she stroked him. He was leaking cum already. She had found her rhythm now, and fell into an easy in and out that she could feel twitching his dick with each pass. Another five minutes and his scream was forgotten, replaced by his bitten bottom lip and moaning orgasm.

She fucked him like that for a while, then pulled out. The air was cold on his hole and he opened his eyes at the loss of his wife’s tool.

“Now roll over.” He did as he was told in an almost dreamlike haze. She pulled his hips back to where she stood beside the bed and molding him into the position she wanted. Face down, ass up, his back a sloped curve. She opened his cheeks and put herself back in, finding her pace again. When she finally grew tired of her ownership of him, she relinquished her spot and replaced the cock with a large buttplug she’d ordered along with the strap-on.

He slumped down on the the bed, fully spent, and she cradled around him. They dozed like that for a while, spooned together. As his breathing settled into real sleep, he heard Tracie whisper to him, “Happy Anniversary, baby.” Yes, he thought. Best one ever.

Written by EJ Benard

Copyright 2014. EJ Benard. All Rights Reserved.

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