Wedding Anniversary

"Hey! Honey, don't forget what day it is today! Remember to pick me up after work. I've already called Dad, he'll pick Xiaoxiao up from kindergarten and take her to school tomorrow morning. I have to go to class, bye!" "Hey! Xiaohui..." "Beep...beep..."

Before I could even speak, my wife hung up.

"Probably afraid I have another social engagement!" I thought to myself.

My wife's name is Li Hui, she's two years younger than me, and she's a Chinese language teacher at the city's experimental primary school. I work in the purchasing department of a large company, and I often have to socialize a lot, so I often come home very late. Although my wife complains a bit, she still supports my work.

Working in the purchasing department of such a monopolistic state-owned enterprise is indeed not easy. You have to manage relationships with superiors and subordinates, maintain client relationships, and always be on guard against backstabbing. The pressure is high, but the pay is also high.

Because today is our wedding anniversary, my wife told me a few days ago that we should have a candlelight dinner together. Of course, I didn't dare to neglect such an important holiday, so I turned down the dinner invitation a long time ago and waited quietly for the end of the workday.

Seven years of marriage, time flies! Our daughter Xiaoxiao is already five, and I've just turned thirty.

Seven years of marriage have faded, leaving only the mundane; the sweet love has transformed into a deep familial affection.

Thinking back to when we first got married, we both dreamed of a bright future—a lovely child, stable jobs, a warm family. Now we have everything, but that sweetness and passion are gone.

Although our first time together was full of naivety, our bodies were overflowing with passion. Back then, we were intimate almost every night, seemingly oblivious to fatigue. But after seven years, the daily routine of going to work, coming home, and sleeping has numbed our minds, and sex has become a routine.

We know each other's bodies intimately, down to every mole; "left hand holding right hand" is probably the most fitting description for us.

We've discussed this issue and tried to add some spice, but my wife's years of traditional upbringing make it difficult for her to accept what she considers "immoral."

After work, I drove to the entrance of the Experimental Primary School. From afar, I saw my wife already waiting there. Her slightly plump figure, accentuated by her midi suit, appeared even more proportionate at 165 cm tall. Her top was stretched taut by her full breasts, the neckline low, revealing a glimpse of her cleavage. Her knee-length skirt accentuated her firm, shapely buttocks, and paired with flesh-colored and white stilettos, she still possessed a strong allure for me.

Although she had lost her youthful years, she had gained a mature charm. Time hadn't left any marks on her face; her skin was fair and rosy, her features delicate, her chin slightly pointed, and her long hair flowing past her shoulders in the breeze.

Seeing my car parked on the side of the road, my wife hurried over. I quickly rolled down the window: "Honey, you're not late, are you?" My wife smiled, opened the car door, and got in: "You're pretty punctual. Let's go, I've already made a reservation." When we arrived at the restaurant, we sat down at our reserved table. My wife took the menu from the waiter and said to me, "What do you want to eat today, honey?" "You order, I'll listen to you today."

I wiped my hands with a damp towel and glanced at the waiter: "Let's start with a bottle of red wine. What's the main course today?" I noticed the waiter's eyes were fixed on my wife. She held the menu in both hands, her elbows resting on the table. Her ample breasts were accentuated by the pressure of her arms, making her cleavage even more prominent. The lace trim at the edge of her collar was faintly visible.

Upon hearing my question, the waiter quickly looked away and stammered, "Oh...today...today's main course is steak, and..." The dishes were served quickly, and the waiter couldn't help but glance at his wife while putting the dishes down. Seeing this, I coughed, and the young man quickly ran away.

My wife and I ate and chatted. I jokingly whispered to her about the waiter's embarrassing behavior, and she blushed immediately. "You rascal! Someone was peeking at your wife and you're laughing! It's all because of this dress. It fit me perfectly when you first bought it for me, but now I've gotten so thin! Sigh! Time waits for no one, I'm becoming an old woman!" I looked at my wife in surprise. "This dress is... the one I bought you for our first wedding anniversary?" "Yes! I had just started teaching at the school then, and you said that as a teacher, I couldn't wear those colorful clothes anymore. It just so happened to be our first wedding anniversary, so you bought me this dress. Sigh! I'm getting old and my looks have faded, and you don't even care about me anymore." As she spoke, my wife became a little sad, and her mournful expression made my heart ache.

"I'm sorry, honey. I've been so busy with work these past few years, I haven't been able to pay enough attention to you. You know, my job is very stressful, and our manager is almost retired, so many eyes are eyeing that position!" "Okay, honey, I didn't say anything, just some sentimental thoughts." My wife interrupted me before I could finish, looking calmly out the window, seemingly lost in thought.

"Come on, honey, let's celebrate our seventh wedding anniversary, cheers!"

I quickly changed the subject; it's better to talk about something happy on this special day.

The meal lasted for over two hours, and we finished off a whole bottle of red wine. The restaurant wasn't far from our community, and I drove back to my neighborhood via a back road without running into them. My

wife was a little unsteady on her feet as she went upstairs; the red wine must have been quite strong. As soon as she entered the door, she said,

"Honey, I'm going to take a shower first, these clothes are a bit tight." I closed the door and sat on the sofa to rest, turning on the TV and idly changing channels. I could already hear the running water from the bathroom.

My wife opened the bathroom door and said to me, "Honey, could you get me some clean clothes? They're in the closet." I took my pajamas and went into the bathroom. My wife was standing under the shower with her eyes closed, letting the water wash over her high, white breasts, splashing a few drops on her dark red nipples. Although she had a little extra fat on her lower abdomen, it wasn't particularly noticeable. Her thick, inverted triangle shape stood between her legs, further emphasizing the whiteness of her skin. Below her long, slender legs were two crystal-clear feet, their red nail polish adding to their allure. I should say that any man seeing such a sight would be aroused, but I was somewhat unmoved. I'd seen the same body for seven years; I guess I was getting a little tired of it.

"What are you looking at, you bad boy?"

My wife seemed a little embarrassed when she saw me staring at her.

"Uh, honey, you're getting more and more beautiful."

"No way, I've gained weight! Look at this, and this..."

My wife pointed to her lower abdomen and elbows, complaining.

"You're just voluptuous. My wife has the best figure, perfect curves, not too much, not too little, just right," I quickly flattered her.

"You smooth talker, come help me scrub my back."

My wife handed me the shower gel and turned around, a satisfied smile on her face.

I poured the shower gel onto the bath sponge and began to scrub my wife's back. The thick foam gathered more and more on her flat back, starting to flow upwards. I immediately squatted down to wash my wife's thighs. Because she had given birth, my wife's hips were quite wide, large and slightly upturned, divided in the middle by a deep crease, with a few strands of hair clearly visible under her fair skin.

As I was washing her, my wife turned around, her thick, dark hair right in front of my nose, the dark red buds peeking out from the foam, a faint scent of herbs wafting in the air.

"Honey, let's shower together!"

my wife said. I looked up at my wife, her watery eyes seeming to speak volumes: "Honey, I want it." I stood up and took off my clothes, but my wife knelt down instead, slowly pulling my clothes off with both hands. My swollen penis was finally free of restraint, swaying eagerly in the air.

My wife held the showerhead in one hand to wash me, and gently stroked my testicles with the other. The temperature was rising, and the blood flow was accelerating.

I put down the showerhead, and my wife, supporting the base of my penis, opened her small mouth and swallowed it. "Oh..." I groaned in pleasure. I felt enveloped in a warm place, and a slimy little worm was crawling around inside. I knew it was my wife's alluring little tongue. Then, my wife, supporting the base of my penis with both hands, began to stroke it back and forth with her mouth.

As she stroked, the space inside my wife's small mouth became smaller and smaller, and I had to withdraw. My wife then used her delicate little tongue to lick back and forth, slowly sliding down from the glans, over the hard shaft, and to the two testicles, tracing circles on them with the tip of her tongue.

"Oh... wife, so good..."

My wife had done this for me many times, but each time it was just a few perfunctory licks. It was rare for her to serve me so proactively like today.

My wife looked at me, her hazy eyes and facial expression so alluring. Her mouth didn't stop; her nimble, wet little tongue returned to my penis.

As my wife licked me, my breathing grew heavier, and the blood in my corpora cavernosa became increasingly concentrated, making it almost unbearable. I desperately needed penetration to relieve the discomfort, so I held my wife's head with both hands, thrusting my hips forward until my hard penis was almost completely inside her mouth. I felt something hit it, making it difficult to go any further.

My wife didn't have time to react to my sudden action, and then she pushed my thighs away forcefully, spitting it out.

"Cough cough...you almost suffocated me! Cough..."

My wife said, tears welling up in her eyes.

Seeing my wife's appearance, I felt a pang of pity. I knelt down and stroked her face with both hands, softly saying,

"I'm sorry! Honey, that was really too good. Are you alright?" "You were comfortable, but you almost suffocated me." My wife seemed a little angry.

"Of course not! You've seen porn before, it'll be fine, we'll just be careful. Come on, let's continue!" I reassured my wife gently; my penis was waiting, and I couldn't give up halfway. "Spare me!

I'm not coming anymore, hurry up and wash up and get out!"

My wife said, standing up to continue showering. I quickly stood up and hugged her tightly, our bodies pressed together.

I freed one hand and kneaded her breasts, lubricated by shower gel. "Wife, we're getting into it, if you leave, it'll be a problem." "You bad boy, I only said I'd get out, I didn't say anything else. Hurry up and wash up, I'll wait for you in bed." My wife smiled at me, saying this as she started showering.

Since we got married, I've never forced my wife to do anything in bed. If she says "no," I stop immediately and try to find a way to proceed indirectly. Changing positions, and so on, every new attempt required a lot of persuasion to get her consent. Even when we watched porn together, she would feel embarrassed.

"Okay!"

I reluctantly agreed, looking down at my already somewhat limp penis, and grabbed the soap to start showering.

I quickly rinsed myself off, put on my clothes, and left the bathroom.

The living room lights were off, and the bedroom door was ajar, casting a dim, yellowish light through the crack onto the living room floor. I quickly walked to the bedroom door, gently pushed it open, and found my wife leaning against the headboard, staring blankly at the family photo we had taken on our fifth wedding anniversary on the wall opposite the bed.

Her long, black hair was styled up, with only a few strands falling across her forehead. Her loungewear was gone; she was wearing a black, sheer, spaghetti-strap nightgown. The semi-transparent fabric made her breasts appear even more alluring, and her nipples were faintly visible, already erect, through the black fabric. The hem of the top was low, and even though my wife was sitting against the headboard, her lower body was still visible. Because her legs were crossed, only a small patch of lace connected to the back by two thin threads was visible.

Hearing the door close, my wife finally turned her gaze to me. "You're done washing so quickly? Did you lock the security door?" Our neighborhood isn't very safe. Last year, our house was burgled. Although we lost some valuables, luckily we weren't home, and no one was hurt. After that incident, my wife was afraid to stay home alone for a long time, and now she insists I lock the doors and windows every night before bed.

I walked to the bedside and said, "They're all locked. What are you thinking about? You seem so engrossed." "Nothing much, just about school." My wife got up and half-knelt on the edge of the bed, wrapping her arms around my neck. "Honey, do I look beautiful today?" "Yes, my wife is beautiful every day." I gently placed my hands on my wife's slender waist, slowly stroking her smooth, milky skin.

Hearing my answer, my wife smiled contentedly, resting her head on my shoulder and hugging me even tighter. "Honey, I love you! Holding you feels so good, it makes me feel so secure." My hands slowly moved to my wife's buttocks, sometimes gently caressing, sometimes pressing harder, my thong already nestled between them. "Silly girl, don't you hold me every night to sleep?" "Honey, I just want to hold you like this every day, doing nothing, thinking nothing." My wife seemed a little different today. Just as I was about to ask her something, her lips sealed my mouth, and she whimpered, "Honey, love me well." I could only passively respond to my wife's overwhelming onslaught. She kissed my lips, my cheeks, my earlobes... I stood there with my eyes closed, enjoying it, the fire within me burning once more. A small tent had already been erected, and my wife rubbed it against my genitals with her hands while her lips continued to kiss me relentlessly.

I was somewhat surprised by my wife's almost frantic initiative today. Before, it was mostly me making the demands, and she would passively accept. Although she would sometimes act wildly, that was only after I had teased her relentlessly, leaving her wanting more.

My wife pulled me down onto the bed, hastily removing my penis, and bent down to suckle. I wasn't idle either, caressing my wife's raised buttocks, and following the cleft of her buttocks, I found her dark, slippery little honey pot, clearly already soaked.

I used both hands to pull my wife's thighs up, making her kneel on top of me, parting the small thong, and her little honey pot was finally revealed before me. My wife's clitoris was dark red, the pubic hair on both sides was sparse, but it was already wet, and the slightly parted slit was still brimming with more lustful fluid, glistening under the light.

"Gulp..."

I swallowed, sticking out my tongue to lick my wife's little honey pot. It was slippery and had a faint fishy, salty taste; to me at that moment, this was undoubtedly nectar. I licked it greedily, not missing a single corner.

"Mmm!"

My wife was a little overwhelmed by my licking and started to wriggle. I had no choice but to lift my head off the sheet and explore up and down with her movements.

"Ah..."

After a while, my wife couldn't take it anymore. She spat out what was in her mouth, sat up, turned around, and took off her thin silk nightgown. She supported herself on my shoulders with her hands and slowly moved above me. My penis was erect and reddish under my wife's licking.

My wife looked down at me and slowly sat down. I supported my head with my hands and watched our joined parts, watching my wife slowly swallow my hard penis bit by bit until there was no gap left, only our two bodies stacked together.

My wife sat up straight, her eyes slightly narrowed, as if savoring the feeling of fullness inside her. Slowly, she began to move up and down slightly, rising a little, and then slowly sitting down again. My penis was enveloped by my wife's flesh, warm and soft. Although my wife's movements were not large, every time she sat down, I felt like I was hitting her G-spot.

As my wife sat up further and further, the force of her falling back down grew stronger with each movement, the sounds of "slap! slap!" mingling with her cries rose and fell. At this moment, my wife was completely different from her usual dignified and beautiful self. She stopped caressing her own breasts and took my hands, pressing them against her swaying breasts. I kneaded them forcefully, feeling the soft flesh in my hands, the snow-white flesh squeezed between my fingers, and her two cherry-like nipples hardening even more in my hands.

The sounds of "splish, splish" were already coming from our joined bodies, and my body was covered in my wife's fluids. My wife's movements became faster and faster, and I was about to reach my climax, but my wife seemed to be just a little short. I tried to get up and change positions, but my wife pressed me back onto the bed. My wife continued to move up and down, her mouth occasionally emitting soft moans of "hmm...hmm...ah..." Although I tried my best to suppress my urge, I couldn't hold back my ejaculation, and with a "whoosh..." I gushed out.

"Just a little more, husband, hmm..."

My wife was still writhing up and down, the discomfort and struggle on her face was obvious. Feeling my body slowly softening, my wife slowly stopped moving and lay on top of me, panting.

I stroked my wife's back with both hands, which was already covered with fine beads of sweat. I said to her with a little guilt,

"Wife, how about I help you with my hands, or even my mouth?"

As a man, not being able to let my woman have her way still left me feeling quite bad.

My wife slowly got up and pulled my limp penis out, kissed me on the lips, and then lay in my arms, softly saying, "Honey, I feel so good. As long as you love me, I'm content. Besides, we've done it before, why worry about having to come every time?" "I love you, my wife. Thank you!" I hugged my wife and kissed her forehead, feeling her peace, and finally I slowly drifted off to sleep.

[The End]

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