My hair is in a loose curly updo with several soft tendrils left to hang around my face and down my neck. I have a few freckles across my nose, but they’ve been camouflaged with some kind of miracle foundation. Somehow, my eyelashes now tickle my eyebrows, and my eyes look big and doe-like, thanks to Aubrey. And my lips. Holy shit! My lips are already full, but Caroline applied a deep red lipstick and a plumping gloss that makes them look positively lush.
Taking a deep breath, I adjust my breasts. I’m not able to wear a bra becauseThe Dressis way too low-cut—front and back—so I’m free-boobing it this evening. The slit is cut so high on my leg, the lace top of one stocking is visible. I feel sexy as hell.
Opening the door, I find Roger sitting on the couch with his phone in his hand.
“Hey, babe. You ready?” He doesn’t look up, so I stand silently until he finally does and am rewarded with a dropped jaw. “Mindy. God, you look amazing.” His eyes rove up and down my body as he stands and walks toward me.
Biting my bottom lip, I look up at him through my heavily-mascaraed lashes. “You like?”
“I love,” he says, bending to kiss my cheek. “Every man in the place is going to be jealous of me.”
“You look really handsome, too,” I tell him, running my hands up the lapels of his navy jacket.
This is going to be such a great night.
As we sit in the restaurant, Roger is more attentive than he’s been in years, constantly holding my hand and never taking his eyes from mine.The Dressis working. I’m going to have sex on my actual anniversary this year, and I’m positively giddy.
I flirt my ass off with my husband and feel better about myself than I have in a very long time. There are only so many times a woman’s sexual advances can be rebuffed before it starts to take a toll on her self-esteem. Roger is never mean about it, but he always declines when I ask for sex—or even a little affection—on any day but Friday.
Except for the last few Fridays. Rose’s friends have been passing the flu around, so their weekly meetings have been canceled. That meantno sexfor Mindy. It’s been a month since Roger’s even kissed me anywhere besides my forehead. But tonight, I’ll be getting kissedexactlywhere I need.
In the car on the way home, I place my hand high on Roger’s thigh. He smiles over at me and links his fingers with mine. It’s amazing how the simple act of holding hands lifts my spirits. Feeling a little frisky because of the wine and my sexy look, I unbuckle my seatbelt and kneel in the seat, praying I don’t bust out of this extremely tight dress.
“What are you doing, babe? Put your seatbelt back on.”
Leaning over the console, I flick his earlobe with my tongue. “Maybe my husband is too hot for me to stay in my own seat.”
Roger stops at a red light and presses his lips softly to mine.God, that feels good. I miss kissing.“Sit down, sweetheart. I don’t want you to get hurt if we have an accident.”
“Party pooper,” I grumble, plopping my ass back down in the seat for the rest of the drive home.
We enter the house to find that only the living room lamp is on. I grin. That means Rose is already in bed.Time to put this plan into overdrive.I’m literally brimming with excitement as Roger holds my hand on the way to our bedroom.
He goes into the bathroom, and I take that opportunity to remove my dress, giggling when I think of Caroline’s rules regarding penis appearances. Leaving on the stockings, red lace underwear, and red “whore heels,” I sit on the edge of the bed. Roger emerges, his shirt halfway unbuttoned as he walks toward me.
Come to momma!
Stroking my hair lovingly with one hand, he bends to kiss my forehead. “That was fun tonight, Mindy. We should go out more often.”
“Yes, we should,” I purr, crossing one leg demurely over the other and leaning back on my hands.
He turns away, removes his jacket, and finishes unbuttoning his shirt, tossing it into the hamper. I jut out my breasts a little more as he removes his pants.Sexxxxx!my inner slut screams, like a zombie hungry for brains.
My forehead wrinkles when my husband opens the top drawer of his bureau and pulls out a pair of pajama pants.Why the hell is he getting pants?
“Roger, why don’t you come over here?” I say in my best come-hither voice. Hehithers, but to my disappointment, he puts his pants on before doing so. Grabbing the waistband, I tug him to me. “We don’t need these, now, do we?”
“Wh-what are you doing, babe?”
I slide to my knees, taking his pants down with me and looking up at him with a coy smile. “What does it look like I’m doing?”Moistening my lips, I lean forward and kiss the tip of his cock. “Your wife wants to show you how much she loves you.”
A frown mars his face as he takes a step back, out of my reach. “That’s sweet, babe, but it’s Thursday.”
Jamming my hands on my hips, I snipe, “Is there some kind of law that says amarried couplecan’t have sex on Thursdays?”
“Don’t be like that, Min. You know…” His voice drifts off, and he raises his eyebrows at me.
Perhaps a more direct approach would be better, as if dropping to my knees to suck his dick wasn’t fucking clear enough. “I want sex, Roger. It’s our anniversary, and I want to have sex with my husband.”
