It was their fifteenth anniversary and Leigh wanted it to be a celebration. However, persuading her loving husband Michael to travel into the city beyond his practice and the never-ending series of lectures he gave weekly at the medical center and the nearby University was posing quite a problem for her.

She was just emerging from the shower. Glancing in the fogged mirror she saw a good-looking, light-brown-haired woman, perhaps thirty-five years of age looking directly at her. She walked into the bedroom still toweling her hair. Michael lay on the king-size bed waiting for her. His fat cock lolling on his belly.

He smiled at her and Leigh responded with one of her own. Then she did a slow pirouette.

"Like it?"

"Yes of course I like it. I always have and I always will."

His cock stirred as if awakening from a deep slumber.

"You're so sweet . . ." She giggled. "I see your friend is waiting for me."

Michael maneuvered himself to the edge of the bed and reached for her. Taking care not to hurt his testicles, Leigh sat on his lap.

He buried his face in the hollow of her throat and murmured, "You smell of soap, so fresh and ripe."

Leigh giggled like a schoolgirl as Michael nibbled at her ear and neck. Then she began to squirm.

"You're doing that on purpose," he said.

"Want to see how hard I can make you," she giggled.

"I'm so glad we met."

"And you made an honest woman of me too."

"The way you shop? I'm not so sure of that."

"What?"

"Still," he continued, ignoring her, "I wouldn't trade you for the world."

"Oh, Michael. I love you so much..."

They kissed, enjoying the ritual of exploring each other's mouth for the ten thousandth time.

A few minutes later, Leigh lay anxiously on her stomach, her legs wide apart, providing Michael with his favorite view of her body. He was languidly caressing the small of her back, working his way to her buttocks. Leigh shivered when his fingers lightly roamed around her twin globes, anticipating what was to come next. With the first touch of his tongue on her anus, she felt a rush of excitement from her toes to her clitoris to the tips of her breasts.

"Ohhhhhhhhhh!"

Her hands blindly sought out his head and her fingers twined themselves in his curly hair.

"Michael . . . ohhhhhhh, I love you...."

Then he was kissing his way up her back, lavishing wet kisses on her shoulderblades and the back of her neck. Leigh couldn't lie still any longer and sought his mouth with hers as Michael's hands roamed her body. Leigh thought his hands felt like vibrators, leaving little electronic stimulation's wherever they went. She was totally relaxed now. The kiss ended and he moved down her body, returning to her ass. Leigh sighed as Michael's hands drew the cleft of her ass apart.

"Your ass is so beautiful Leigh, my darling."

"You really like it Michael?"

"Oh, yes. I'm fascinated with it."

"Why?" She asked, knowing he loved to look at it, especially just after she'd washed it.

He didn't answer her instead he flicked his serpentine tongue along the tiny pleats of skin surrounding her anus.

Leigh groaned with pleasure. Then his tongue was exploring her tight anal channel, relentlessly probing as she writhed before him, sheets clenched tightly in her fists. When Michael ended his assault, Leigh raised her rump up high, presenting him with a more favorable view and he began anew, this time licking a wide swath from her anus to her mons before returning to her rectum again.

Leigh groaned in anticipation as his fingers feathered across her dampened labia, then ever so slowly, parted those delectable folds and entered her making lazy circles as they moved deeper.

Her hips responded, jerking in rhythm to his movements as if she were a puppet on a string. He continued licking her, listening carefully as Leigh's breathing rate increased dramatically.

"Jesus, Michael . . . that's unbelievably good."

"Anything for you lover."

"Make me come soon . . ."

"Soon, my love."

"Ohhhh, you're going to make me wait . . .?"

"Patience. Just think of all your friends."

"My friends?"

"Yeah, your friends. Every other Saturday night . . . they get five minutes of missionary-style grunting in the dark. While you get nibbled on for hours."

"Ohhhh," she wailed forlornly.

"Don't pout."

"I can't stand waiting."

"Bull! You've told Jenny about us. How you love the prolonged fucking I give you."

"No!"

"Yes! Why else would she mention that she just loves to be breathed on and nibbled during sex?"

"She told you that?"

"I'm not making it up."

"That bitch!"

"So, you did tell her."

"Well, maybe I hinted to her..."

"You damn well told her how I tease you."

"You're right, I did," she said contritely.

Michael slowly drew his finger from her pussy and held it up for Leigh's inspection. "See how you glisten on my finger."

"You're not going to...?"

But the finger was already circling around Leigh's puckered opening.

"Ohhhhhh."

His finger gently entered her ass. Leigh moaned each time he delved deeper into her. With his free hand Michael reached for the lubricant, the smell of fresh strawberries filed the room as he massaged it into her opening.

"Lift up for me."

Leigh raised her ass and pressed her head down into the pillow.

She grunted as he entered her. The pain if one could call it that was negligible, and soon he was deep inside her glorying in the tightness of her membranes clutching his cock. His strokes were long and slow at first, gliding easily in and out.

"Ah, you feel sooo good love," he whispered, then increased his pace, changing the angle of his thrust. He laughed when he felt Leigh's hand seeking out her clit and soon after he emptied himself into her anal channel.

After taking a brief moment to collect his breath, Michael moved silently over the mound of her belly to her second, smaller mound, decorated with light brown hair and spreading the wet labia apart began to flick his tongue over her swollen clitoris.

She felt her orgasm approaching and groaned, holding his head tightly against her.

Michael rolled her clit between his tongue and palate, the sweet pressure hastened her climax and when Michael began to suck on it while squeezing her breast, she came.

A few minutes later Leigh opened her eyes to find Michael hovering above her.

She smiled, and licked her lips. He kissed her lightly.

"Another?" He asked, his voice sounding husky and virile to her.

"Hmmmm? No, that was wonderful, thank you."

"Michael?"

"Yes dear?"

"You know our anniversary is coming up . . .?"

"And?"

"Oh, nothing. Forget about it."

"No, What is it?"

Leigh had always accepted the trials and tribulations of being married to a well-known plastic surgeon. Accommodating his rigid schedule meant little time for nights out in the city. But Michael had made the foolish mistake of asking what she really wanted to do this year. Now that the door had been opened, Leigh seized upon it.

"How about taking in a show and getting a bite to eat in the city? What do you say Michael?"

Michael somewhat distractedly looked at her, as she continued.

"You know, away from everything and everybody. Just the two of us, a wonderful idea, don't you think, dear?"

Seeing his expression, Leigh mentally clicked her heels in delight. 'A picture is worth a thousand words,' she thought, 'and his goes way beyond that. Got him!'

Michael, loving her as he did, could only muster a weak, "Wonderful idea Leigh, I can't wait. I'll make some calls in the morning."

Leigh smiled radiantly, knowing damn well he hated the idea, but she'd known he'd accede to her request. He really never could refuse her.

Several days later, their anniversary arrived. It was a perfect lazy fall evening, somewhat warm and humid for September. The clear night sky unveiled thousands of stars that shone brightly in the northern sky, and the oppressive humidity seemed lessened by the soft breeze blowing in from the nearby water.

Leigh, wearing a black negligée walked into the bathroom, sat on the toilet and peed. Michael was across the room shaving and cut himself as he peeked at her as she wiped herself. He loved watching her pee and told her so.

She flushed the toilet and sauntered over to him.

"Turned you on, did I?"

He grunted.

She reached to his front and jiggled his cock. It wasn't quite hard, but it was getting there.

"Save it for later," she said, lewdly licking her lips for emphasis.

Michael watched her image in the mirror as she headed into the bedroom to dress. Leigh surprised him by closing the door behind her.

Peeling off the negligée, Leigh stood nude and looked pensively into the full-length mirror. She lifted her breasts up for inspection. They weren't large, but men had always made a fuss over them, especially her nipples, which jutted out a half-inch and were not fully aroused. Leigh had a smirk on her face as her thumbs flicked them to their fullest and admired them. More than adequate, she decided. Pouting, she idly searched through her lingerie, tossing items aside until she came up with a white lacy garter belt.

The memory of her first time wearing a garter belt flooded her consciousness. She'd just turned eighteen and wanted desperately to impress Chester. God, she thought, I actually had the hots for a guy named Chester. Well, she told herself, he was Chet today, and a very successful writer.

Leigh smiled at the memory. She'd worn the garter belt over frilly white satin panties and put a white dress on over them, not realizing that in certain lighting the dress was almost transparent. She'd caused a sensation at the bar when she walked in to meet him. Leigh giggled as she recalled how quickly Chester had whisked her out to his car and away from what appeared to be a frenzied group of his friends.

That had been the first time she'd been eaten and she was delighted with the experience. They had rutted like rabbits for two months, then when her period was late Chester showed his true colors and deserted her. Two days later she began to spot, but she never called him again. On her nineteenth birthday Leigh met Michael while walking in the park and the rest was history.

Leigh decided to wear the garter belt, and hooked her hose to them just to heighten Michael's interest later on, then she donned a black cocktail dress that revealed just a little cleavage. Selecting the right earrings took longer than any other part of her dressing. When she'd finished she wandered into the kitchen for a glass of water. Moments later, Michael walked in to ask her if she approved of his attire. He wore a three-piece gray pinstripe suit. And held a bouquet of pink gardenias out to her. He was grinning.

Leigh thought of him as her big bear and gazed into his cheerful blue eyes.

"Thank you, kind sir. They're lovely. And you are lovely too," she said adjusting his tie. She reminded herself just how lucky she was to have him as her man. She truly loved him.

The limo arrived on time, and Leigh felt drawn even closer to her husband as he insisted on holding the door open for her over the mild objection of the driver, who scooted back behind the wheel.

They found themselves in their own little world as the greenery from their humdrum suburban surroundings whizzed by. Leigh thinking ahead, had insisted he leave his cell phone behind, and after agonizing over the dire consequences that could befall him without its availability, he'd tossed it onto his pillow before heading for the front door.

Leigh leaned her head onto Michael's shoulder, thinking, no phones, no stress, no problems; we're definitely taking advantage of the moment.

But apparently, Michael had other ideas, for to Leigh's chagrin, he began talking with the driver about the game the previous night. The driver was only too happy to respond and valuable time passed before it occurred to Leigh that grabbing Michael's penis might just get him back on track.

She ran her fingernail along his length, somewhat smaller than a few minutes earlier, and half-circled the tip of his cock. Michael got the message and ended his conversation.

They looked at one another, that special look both knew so well. Their eyes met and conveyed the message of a deeper love. Leigh was reminded of their very first time, thinking that she seemed a little hornier than usual this evening. Gradually both realized the driver was paying them no mind, and their hands traveled lightly over the linen that each wore, whispering erotic promises to the skin beneath. Michael's long fingers continued to gift Leigh with soft, fleeting touches that stirred her. He'd always been able to do that. And she was ever grateful for it.

"You and your magical hands," she whispered into his ear as he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her closer. In turn, Leigh's hand toyed with the silky hair at the nape of his neck while the other crept tantalizingly along his inner thigh. She sensed his unease at her brazenness. God, she thought, how I wish Michael wasn't so damn reserved at times, but maybe I can persuade him to get playful in the backseat. We've got all this room. It would be a shame to waste it. And so what if the driver takes a peek or two.

Their eyes locked and Leigh smiled while rubbing the palm of her hand up and down his just discovered hardness. Michael groaned and she squeezed him harder. Leigh realized he was going to give in to her seconds before their lips touched. Softly, merely brushing across the others. A series of little licks followed, then mouths open, the kiss deepened as Leigh tugged Michael's fly open, extracting his rock hard manhood. Just as she was bending to pay it the homage it deserved, the driver interrupted to announce they had arrived.

A grumpy Michael carefully replaced his cock and shyly attempted to cover the lump in his pants as he got out of the limo. Giggling like a schoolgirl, Leigh's hand brushed against it as she emerged from the limo, causing Michael to turn crimson with embarrassment.

'If only he knew, I've merely just begun. This is going to be a very enjoyable evening. Oh, you lug,' she told herself, 'I love you so much. I feel guilty about tricking you into taking me out, but how else could I have managed it?'

The plan was to take in an early show and then grab dinner at one of the many restaurants in the district. "Rent" turned out to be a fabulous show, and when Michael realized it was based on Puccini's opera "La Boheme," even though set in New York's East Village, he was captivated. Leigh found herself humming one of the tunes as they exited the theatre, and felt good about having gone even though the tickets were $80 each. They agreed it was a tragedy that Jonathan Larson died before being able to see the opening performance of his smash hit.

Around them, people poured out of the theatre. Everyone was talking, gesturing, or shouting with laughter as they tried to hail a cab to whisk them into the next part of their evening. Michael and Leigh were no exception. Although unlike those around them, they decided catching a cab was impossible, put their arms around each another's waist and idly made their way from West 41st Street to 53rd Street and Etrusca's, a marvelous Italian restaurant, totally lost in the feel of one another.

Needless to say, there was a small group of people ahead of them, but they found seats and waited patiently. Leigh couldn't help but notice one particular man. Tall and slim dressed casually in black, but very trendy. His salt and pepper hair, combed straight back gave him a rather distinguished look. But, it was his eyes that caught her attention. Leigh had always had this thing about eyes, as if one could gaze into the soul of a person through their eyes. The man's were dark brown, almost black. She found something bewitching about them, but couldn't pin it down. They weren't sinister, but they were beguiling, almost hypnotic, at least that's what Leigh felt when he met her eyes and held them for a moment.

Quickly, she broke the connection between them she had the strangest feeling that this "mystery man" was luring her closer and closer to him, to some mystical place that she might dare to venture. Leigh shivered from a sudden chill.

"Are you all right dear?" Michael asked with concern.

"Oh, yes. I must have got caught in a draft when someone opened the door."

Michael returned to studying the Daily Specials on the blackboard in front of him, and Leigh struggled to regain her composure, and succeeded, managing a strained smile as the mystery man walked by, his face expressionless. Still, Leigh had an eerie feeling creep through her, and the hairs on the back of her neck rose.

"We should be called soon," Michael said casually. He nudged her lightly with his arm.

"What?"

"Look at the lovers."

Sitting to Leigh's left were two young lovers who could barely keep their hands off one another and of course, the "mystery man" stood close by. She looked over Michael's shoulder at another, older couple, just entering through the door.

"Let's be nice and give them our seats," she whispered to Michael. "We won't be standing long."

"That's fine with me," he said, rising. After surrendering their seats to the older couple they stood near the entrance to the dining room. Michael was behind her with his hands on her waist. His body was very close to Leigh's, which was unusual for him and surprised Leigh. She pressed back, feeling his bulge against the rise of her ass and derived great pleasure just knowing how well she was affecting him. With an inward smile, Leigh told herself that this was a pleasant surprise, recalling that Michael was always reserved and that it was she who always wanted more.

Had the young couple aroused him, she wondered. She pondered this for a moment. 'I'm always trying to pleasure him and he doesn't understand half the things I'm trying to do. For God's sake, there are actually times he's embarrassed with my sexual hunger.' Then, in a moment of clarity, she understood. It was she who wanted him to take control at those times and he never did. 'Except for my ass,' she told herself.

The maitre d' interrupted Leigh's thoughts and suavely escorted them to a table. Leigh felt almost regal as she walked among New York's elite, had her chair held out for her and sat amidst some of the richest people in the world. The room was crowded with the usual blur of sounds expected in a place of this caliber in New York.

A sultry looking female with dark gleaming hair promptly took their order of a bottle of Tuscany red.

Michael was immediately drawn to the sensuous menu. "They have game birds, and housemade pastas, dear," Michael said, engrossed in the menu's variety of exotic offerings.

"That's interesting sweetheart," she said, glancing around at the Terra cotta, limestone, marble, and natural woods that provided such handsome and elegant accents to the décor. Then she saw him, the "mystery man," seated alone in a booth, just to the right of Michael's right shoulder, facing her.

Leigh realized from the way that he kept glancing at his watch he was waiting for someone and she became most curious as to whom that might be.

Their eyes met, and as if an animal in submission, she diverted hers. His dominance prevailed. She decided he was meeting another man for a business meeting, then gave her undivided attention to the menu, selected an appetizer and decided on a seafood platter, then saw a lobster dish she liked too, causing her to delay ordering for the moment.

The server was pouring the crusty red, Tuscany wine into her glass when a woman walked past their table. Leigh looked up and with her peripheral vision, saw the "mystery man's" eyes light up. Leigh was positive the corners of his mouth curled into a little smile, or was it a smirk she'd just seen?

Leigh sucked in her breath. The woman was joining him! Eager to check the woman out as she casually sashayed towards him, Leigh dropped all pretenses and blatantly stared. Fortunately for her, Michael was too preoccupied with reading the wine's label to notice what Leigh was up to.

Leigh's critical eyes evaluated the woman from the rear. Her walk was cat-like and slow. She knew how to strut to her advantage. The woman was all legs and wore summer heels that emphasized them even more. A soft, clingy skirt showed off her nice firm, tight ass; an ass that didn't jiggle with her walk and as far as Leigh could tell, there was no pantyline. Leigh's mind was working overtime. Talk about short, she told herself, if she were to bend over, she'd probably show everything she had.

While digesting that fact, Leigh noticed Michael staring too. She thought for a moment that his eyeballs were going to pop out of his head and into his wineglass. She deftly administered a quick little kick under the table and got his "heads" back in order.

Michael's face turned a shade of red, confirming that Leigh's intuition was correct. Smiling warmly, she raised her glass in a toast and touched her glass to his.

"Happy Anniversary Dearrr-r--r--r!"

"My god, Leigh, did you see that!" He whispered excitedly. It was quite apparent that those diners close to their booth were also paying the woman close attention. Judging by the expression on the "mystery man's" face, he was well aware of the attention and seemed to be enjoying his little show-piece as much as everyone else.

Leigh noted one brow arched slightly as his eyes fixed on the woman's curved, sensual body. She wore a short, emerald green, silk skirt with matching top. It was obvious she wore no bra by the way her perky breasts strained against the softness of the fabric. Her hardened nipples added to her sensuality. Her hair was fashioned in a short, tousled, cut. Its dark auburn color complimented her porcelain complexion. Her sparkling sapphire eyes appeared as two deep pools --- the kind most men would willingly drown in, Leigh thought with envy.

"Quite a statement, eh, Michael?"

Michael started to turn around, but Leigh cut him off, "Don't stare, Michael! It's impolite." But she herself stared transfixed as the woman literally poured herself into the seat by his side. Then, with bowed head, she licked her full, pouty lips. The "mystery man" whispered and she raised her eyes to his. It was then that Leigh noticed the wide black-velvet collar adorning her long slender neck. Was she a into S&M? Could she possibly be his pet? Leigh had heard of such things, but had never witnessed it before.

Leigh's eyes were glued to them. Suddenly, she heard Michael's voice blaring, or so it seemed, "Leigh, it's not polite to stare."

Embarrassed, she managed a meek "Yes dear." Then, assured that he hadn't read her mind, she wrinkled her nose and stuck out the very tip of her tongue. Michael shook his head, "You're so damn cute" he chuckled. Still smiling, he began talking about his last lecture and how some of the top surgeons in the country were scheduling him for a seminar. Always interested in his work, Leigh tried to be attentive, but her mind and eyes were elsewhere. Michael's voice soon became a low drone in her ears as in no time at all; she had quite a show to watch.

From her angle, Leigh had a perfect view. She could see clearly under the "mystery man's" table. His legs were apart, hers together, but with that short skirt, it was all legs showing. Leigh could not even make out the hemline. The man nodded at the auburn-tressed woman and she leaned towards him. Her red painted lips slowly parted and the soft, wet pink of her tongue swept languidly across his lips, lingering before she pulled back. Leigh squirmed in her chair as she observed his hand disappear under the table and tap once on the woman's thigh. Her response was immediate. She parted her thighs and to Leigh's astonishment, the woman's splayed legs revealed a smoothly shaved pussy. Even its lips were sharply visible. Leigh drew in her breath and took a deep gulp from her wineglass. Anyone could see, she thought. Leigh counted to three and exhaled before daring to glance their way again. Once again she discerned his nod. It must have been some sort of command, for the woman's right hand with its manicured red nails that perfectly matched her lips, slid to her undulating breast. Using unhurried movements, the woman lowered the silky material to reveal a generous portion of the milky white smoothness of her cleavage. Her middle finger disappeared deeply into the valley.

Leigh swallowed; she didn't know where to look next. She took a moment to glance at Michael and catch the gist of his conversation, made an appropriate comment and resumed her surveillance of the "mystery man's" table. She considered telling Michael about them, but since he would turn around to see for himself, she decided against it. That would only alert them and they'd end their activity. Covertly, Leigh checked them out again. She felt her entire body flush as the man's hand was now caressing the woman's inner thigh. And . . . Yes! From the look on her face, Leigh guessed his pinkie was petting the soft outer fold of the woman's labia. Whew! She thought, this had turned into quite a memorable evening and it was just getting started.

Then the woman closed her eyes and cautiously slouched down. The "mystery man's" hand disappeared before Leigh's eyes. All she could view was the back of his wrist --- and from its movement, Leigh knew instinctively he was slipping the woman a finger or two. He nodded once again and the woman's mouth met his. From the hollow in her cheeks, Leigh knew the kiss was deep and it appeared to last a good five or six seconds. The woman's cleavage now had a light sheen of perspiration visible as her breasts rose and fell rhythmically. With an involuntary sigh, Leigh squeezed her thighs together, thoroughly aroused by the spectacle she was viewing. She wanted to see and learn more about this couple. She sensed her inner heat rising and once again found herself squirming in her chair. The waitress interrupted her thoughts, asking if she was ready to order. Leigh fumbled the menu and blushing, told Michael to order first as she was still deliberating over two of the evenings specials. To her chagrin, Michael said, "I'm still undecided, you go first my dear."

"Well," she stammered to the waitress, "If you'll give me just another second or two . . ." Just then, adding to her confusion, a sultry-looking waitress approached the "mystery man's booth. Leigh noted that all hands were back in their proper places. The woman was calmly sipping at a Margarita. 'Such odd drinks for an Italian restaurant,' she wondered. Leigh forced her eyes back to her menu, quickly ordered an appetizer and a seafood dish she realized she would probably detest, handed the menu off to the waitress and glanced over at the "mystery man's" booth again. The woman's tongue sensually licked at the crusted salt before taking in the tart freshness of the drink.

Leigh clutched at her wineglass and quickly drained it. As she placed it back on the table the "mystery man" lifted his glass of tequila, caught her eye and silently toasted her. Leigh was mortified at being caught. Embarrassment flooded over her and she wore its color on her. She cast her eyes downward, not realizing that this brought a satisfactory smirk to his face and he made a comment to his companion.

Meanwhile, Michael, oblivious to what was transpiring, decided on having his pheasant under glass after all, and began making polite conversation with her. In due course, talk shifted from the mundane to that of his professional career. Their long years together had enabled Leigh to converse with him on this subject while running other matters through her brain.

At the moment, her mind was reeling with thoughts of what might happen to the "mystery man" and his companion after they left. Perhaps they'd go to a mid-town hotel. She recalled noticing the band of gold on the third finger of his left hand and his companion, or should she refer to her as his dom? No, not dom, Leigh corrected herself. She would be subservient to him and that made her a sub. She must be his submissive, or at the very least his mistress. Surely, she couldn't be his wife, could she?