The Anniversary Stories Read Free Page B

memory.  “The bright young woman who went
off to Oxford while I went off to Iraq.  The same young woman I told to forget
about me and get on with her life, but who not only waited for me, but was a
virgin on our wedding night.  The woman who didn’t throw a tantrum today when
all our carefully-laid plans were disrupted by a sick employee.  Instead she
spent our special day driving around with a husband who was driving a bus, just
to be close to him.  The successful woman who is not ashamed of being married
to a simple man who enjoys the simple pleasures in life.”
    “Honey, I love you and
wouldn’t change a single thing about you.  You’re my rock in a world that’s
constantly changing.”  She smiled and kissed him softly.  “Happy anniversary,
baby.”
    “Happy anniversary too, sweetheart,”
he responded, lowering his head to capture her erect, pouting left nipple and
worry it gently with his teeth.
    *****

Isn’t a Sister’s Love the Best?
    S tanding back as his wife Helen pulled
away from the kerb, John Elliot blew his six-year-olds a kiss.  Tim, the little
scamp, pulled a funny face—he already thought that he was too old for kisses. 
But, Tina, his little sweetheart, blew him kisses until the car disappeared
from sight.
    He would miss the two
mischief makers, John acknowledged, as he walked slowly back up to the house.
    But it was only for two days
and one night.
    And what a night it would be!
    He and Helen were celebrating
their seventh wedding anniversary and so far each celebration had been better
than the one before.  He still got instantly hard when he thought of Helen’s
little surprise the previous year—dressing as a tramp, allowing him to rescue
her and then in her gratitude offering her sweet little behind for him to
plunder after he had generously offered her a bath, some food and a bed for the
night.
    He hoped he could resist
having anal sex with her tonight even if she offered.  He had grown up with
strict, church-going parents and anal sex though it had felt good the few times
he and Helen had engaged in the act, afterwards he had felt terribly guilty,
especially because it had left poor Helen sore for a day or two.
    No, tonight he would be
strong and refuse even if she begged him to—
    The doorbell interrupted his
thoughts.  Who could it be?  Helen couldn’t have made the return trip to his
parents’ home already, surely?
    Unless there had been an
acci—
    He stumbled to the door, his
heart in his hands—everything he held dear was in that car.  He couldn’t
survive if anything happened to Helen...or his children...
    The doorbell went again,
impatiently, as he stood with his hand on the knob, afraid to open the door and
face his fear.
    “John, are you in there? 
Open up, it’s me, Susan!”
    Weak with relief, he turned
the knob quickly and found his sister smiling back at him.
    Susan smiling?  She must have
won the lottery or something.  She never smiled.
    “Hey, little brother, aren’t
you going to let me in?”
    “Sure, come in.”  He hoped
she didn’t intend to stay too long.  Once she got talking she could bore for England. She had probably come to see the twins; perhaps if he let her know that he was
home alone she would soon be on her way.  “You just missed Helen and the kids.”
    “I know,” she said, slipping
her sensible black pumps off.  “Mum told me that Helen was bringing the kids to
spend the night with her and Dad, so I rushed over as fast as I could to catch
you alone.”
    “You wanted to see me ?”
    “Yes.  I needed to see
you.”
    “Are you in some kind of
trouble?”  It would be a first, but when the good go bad, they go rotten.
    “Of course I’m not in
trouble!”  Susan denied, giving him that exasperated
wise-older-sister-to-silly-younger-brother look.  “I just missed you.”
    “Missed me?” Growing up with
Susan had been like growing up as an only child.  She was bookish and serious. 
It had seemed that the only