An anniversary forgotten

I walked around my husband in a slow circle, each footstep mimicking the rhythm of my heartbeat. The pitter-patter of the pouring rain was the only thing I could hear. Or maybe it was just all I wanted to hear at the moment. But I knew that if I listened well enough, I would hear the rhythmic sound of my husband's pacing heart.

"I can't believe you'd do this," I said. "Who could have thought that—"

He cut me off, his voice apologetic. "I'm sorry."

And then he squeezed his eyes shut.

"Please..."

I shook my head, and then I moved away from him. He trained his eyes on me, watching me keenly as I walked over to the bed and plopped down on it.

"It's our goddamn anniversary, Frederick!" I said. "And you—you're supposed to be my husband, but you don't even remember. Now it's all ruined. Everything!"

"Nothing is ruined yet," he said.

He advanced toward me and tried to sit beside me, but I rose from the bed. I couldn't stand his presence at the moment. I knew I was probably making a mountain out of a molehill, but what else could I do? I'd waited all day, hoping my 'darling' husband would remember our anniversary. But here we were now, at 9 in the evening, living uneventfully like it was just another ordinary day.

I walked over to the window and stood there, watching the stars glisten in the moon-lit heavens.

"Amber," he called.

But I didn't even turn around to look at him.

I had no idea when he crossed the room to meet me. Well, until I felt his warm, tingling breath teasing the left side of my neck. He wrapped his arms around me. I held still, enjoying the feel of his warm arms, even though I was still super mad at him.

"Allow me make it up to you, my love," he said.

"But how?" I asked. "There's nothing you can possibly do now."

I shook my head at the helplessness of this situation. And then I tried to move away. But he grabbed my right hand by the wrist, making me halt in my tracks.

“Maybe there is nothing I can do to make it right,” he said, “but there is something I won’t do.”

“What does that even mean?” I asked.

“Well, it simply means that I am willing to fully surrender myself to you, letting you do whatever you want to do with me all night long.”

“Is this for real?” I asked.

“As real as the darkness of the night,” he said.

My eyes lit up with an Idea, but first I had to confirm that he was really telling the truth.

“So, I can do whatever I want with you?” While I spoke, I ran my right finger down his body, leaving a long trail.

“Totally.”

“And you won’t even try to resist?”

“Not at all.”

“You won’t even try to stop me?”

“I want,” he said. “You can even tie me up if you want.”

He raided his hands in surrender, offering to be tied up. But there was absolutely no need for that. For the first time since our conversation, I smiled at him.

“You can punish me if you want,” he said.

“Definitely, Frederick. I will definitely punish you for breaking my heart this way today.”

I slowly slipped my other hand away from his grip. And he let me. I leaned forward, and then I whispered into his ears. “You are gonna pay for breaking my heart. For every second I had to endure this pain, you are going to pay, honey.”

I touched the left side of his face, and while I spoke, I slowly slid my hand down his upper body, trailing his chest, and working my way to his stomach. I could feel his heart beating, and then I could feel his stomach clenching and unclenching, evidencing his nervousness.

For the first time since our marriage, I had him right where I wanted him.

Perfect.

My hand dropped further down, moved past the waistband of his pants, and settled on the thick rod. between his legs. I wasn’t hoping to find a boner but when I found one, it didn’t come as much of a surprise. Even the slightest touch always had his cock jerking to life and tightening his pants.

I wrapped my fingers around his cock and then I squeezed softly. Although it was a soft squeeze, he moaned anyway. I wanted to hear more of that sound, so I added some more pressure, squeezing hard enough to turn his moans into a whimper. I squeezed his cock some more, and then I grabbed his balls. His clothes got in the way, watering down the sensations I wanted him to feel.

I frowned, hating the disruption.

“Take off your clothes,” I said. “All of it.”

I walked over to the bed, and then I lay down on my side, propped up on my left elbow, with my head resting on my right palm. My baby doll dress took a hike up my thighs, revealing the juiciness beneath the fabric. It revealed my silky white panty and the puffiness straining against the fabric.  I watched as Frederick hastily unclothed himself. His cock was hard and ready. Little did he know that he wouldn’t get to use his cock at all.

Once he was done undressing, I curled my fingers at him, wordlessly asking him to join me in bed. He walked over to meet me, and then he lay beside me, his huge cock aiming at the ceiling. He made a subtle move to hold me, but I slightly shoved him off, making him fall back down on his back.

I crawled across the bed, and his eager hand followed me, trailing my ass and teasing my wet pussy through my pantie. My pussy throbbed in response, but although I was dying to have him inside of me, stretching me apart, I couldn’t not punish him for forgetting our wedding anniversary.

I sat astride him, my pussy barely an inch away from his cock. But I looked past his cock and grabbed his balls instead, taking them in both hands. Although I had my back to him, I could tell when he sucked in a deep, shaky breath. But he could never guess what I was shout to do.

I took his balls in both hands, and then I started to caress them. I roamed every inch of his balls with my fingers, intensifying his pleasure with each move. He gasped and shuddered, his hard cock unable to keep still.

Slowly and steadily, I added pressure to my grip. My hands came crushing down on his balls, making him writhe beneath me. “Amber,” he moaned.

“This is what you get for forgetting our anniversary.” I pulled hard at his balls; so hard that his skin couldn’t stretch any further.

When it seemed to have lost all elasticity, I started to twist it around, wringing his balls like wet clothes. He cried and squirmed beneath me, but I wasn’t letting any of that dissuade me. I kept wringing, the pressure building up with each passing moment.

“Amber...” he cried. “Please...”

“You said you wouldn’t stop me...” I reminded him. “But now that you have broken your own rule, I will have to inflict more pain on you, so you never think of doing this again.”

“I'm sorry, Amber,” he said. “I just—”

But I didn’t give him a chance to speak any further. I tightened by fingers around his balls, and as though that wasn’t enough to inflict pain, I balled my other hand into a fist and rammed it into his balls.

He winced and jerked, almost bolting to his feet, but I slammed him back down into the bed and rammed my fist into his balls again.

“Aaargh!” he cried out.

As pain spread through him, he lifted his tight leg and repeatedly slammed it into the bed. He started to quake and shiver, his breath now shaky.

“Oh God, Amber!” he said. “You're killing me.”

“And you’re resisting,” I said. “Just what you said you wouldn’t do. Is this some sort of a joke to you?”

“I'm sorry,” he begged.

I smirked. I loved seeing him in this state—at my mercy, begging for me to set him free. But how could I put an end to this when he had already offered himself to me?

With the smirk still on my face, I delivered another blow, crushing his balls beneath my fist.

“Fuck!” he cried out.

I hopped off him, just so I could watch him roll over and curl into a ball. And he didn’t disappoint.

“You're right,” I said.

“About what?” he asked, his voice shaky as he kept groaning.

“I should tie you up,” I said.

I rose from the bed and went to find a restraint. We had never ventured into BDSM, so we didn’t have any ropes available, but some neckties or scarves could come in handy.

With a gleeful smile, I grabbed two long scarves from the closet.