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Showing posts with label birthday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label birthday. Show all posts

A birthday in the park



I called and left her a simple message. “Be ready at 9:30 AM. Be dressed in a short plaid skirt, cotton underwear, a dark blue T-shirt, and a simple front hook bra, white.”

His voice mail the simple, as most of them are, direct, a bit mysterious, but never to be disobeyed. I pulled out the short schoolgirl skirt he gave me last year for Christmas, his favorite white thong and matching T-shirt bra, and a deep blue T-shirt that I got from work, the one with a small cum stain by the collar. It drove him crazy when I wore it because the stain was not his.

I pulled up in front of her building and sent her the agreed-upon text. She came down promptly the bag in her hand as instructed. She got into the cab of my truck I kissed her lightly on the lips, the tasted of cinnamon and her hair smelled fresh, like she had just stepped out of the shower. “Are you using the shampoo we agreed on?”

She nodded her head, smiled, and said that she was. She said that she liked how it smelled how it felt on her skin.

I looked into the bag and saw 3 of her favorite toys, and anal plug, a lifelike dildo, and the G Spot vibrator that never failed to make her orgasm when we were together. I pulled the bag open a little wider and saw the large tube of lubricant. I closed the bag and snapped it shut and set it on the floor under the seat. I reached over and took her left nipple between my thumb and forefinger and began to pinch. She yelped at first I pinched harder adjusting my fingers to take in more flesh. I pinched harder still and her breathing became erratic, fast, and deep, she breathed deeply, rasping against the pain, until she shivered, gasped for air, and said “thank you sir.”

“Show me.” I said

She shifted in her seat and put her back against the door and lifted up her skirt. The thin white cotton fabric was now translucent and I could see the pussy outline of her lips, the full bushy dark patch of pubic hair matted against the fabric. “Good girl.”

I don’t exactly remember when he learned to make me come so quickly. All I know is that certain things were Pavlovian in their power. I could not resist. I could not stop. The way he looked at me, the way he assumed I would cum, always working its magic, and the even though my nipple would be sore for several days, to cum for him was worth it. As we began to drive in the bright morning air, I felt my cunt and nipple throbbing, connected by a single touch of his hand. I smiled, squirmed in my seat, trying not to disclose my 4thtoy, buried, deep inside.

I had not been given permission to speak so I held my peace and enjoyed the aftermath of his first gift. We drove through my neighborhood, found that the bridge, and drove over it and joined the interstate. He rarely took me so far from home so I was curious since I did not pack an overnight bag, nor did I bring any money since it was not on his list. I had no phone, no fresh underwear, and all that I carried fit in a little bag. We soon pulled off the interstate drove through a beautiful wooded stretch, and parked at an open expanse of grass.

Her ability to come on command was one of the things I loved most about her. I loved her for many reasons, but her erotic obedience was high on the list. I loved feeling her nipples in my fingers, on my tongue, and in my mouth. They were deep, fleshy pink, the epitome of womanhood, and I loved to nothing better than to suck them brutally into my mouth, biting and abusing them as my fingers sought purchase within dark regions. I would hold her on my lap sideways as she laid her head on the arm of the couch and lift her chest to my mouth as she spread, one leg up on the back of the couch and the other on the floor as I roughly finger fucked her into oblivion time after time after time. I loved the feeling of my hand crossing over her untamed bush. She liked it shaved, waxed bare, but that was not my preference, so I did not allow it. I

The drive across the river was a calming one as she sat next to me obediently quiet it smelling of her climax. She had no idea what was about to happen, all she knew was that it was her birthday.

We parked and he kissed me lightly on the lips, stepped out of his side of the cab, and walked around the back of the truck grabbing a bag out of the back. As he opened my door for me (I was forbidden to open it for myself) I turned slid my legs out of the truck’s cab an onto the ground.  As I dropped down his hand came up under my skirt and caressed me deeply between the legs. I struggled not to groan into his chest and I rested my weight against his hand and he held me up, his fingers pressing hard into my bones and my flesh. He almost lifted me off the ground using nothing pussy lips and I felt crushed and tender and I loved him for it. 

He reached inside the truck and got my small satchel out and put it in my hand and told me to carry it for myself. He reached inside his bag and pulled out my favorite blindfold. It was silky soft with 2 round eye-patches and a band that went around the back of my neck. Now, without sight, and with my hearing muffled from the band around my head, I was completely in his hands. He moved me out of the way and closed the door loudly.  I heard the rushed flutter of birds in flight as he locked his truck. 

I smiled as I thought about how many orgasms he had given me upon the seat I had just left. Too many to count, I smiled to myself, and more, many more to come, I hoped. Totally devoid of vision my steps were hesitant until we got onto the grass. He knelt behind me lifted one leg and then the other and removed my shoes. The grass was wonderfully soft on my bare feet and I knew that he would not take me anywhere that would cause me injury. He had caused me a great deal of pain, but never injury in the accidental sense. He took my left hand in his right and we began to walk.  I heard birds singing, calling back and forth to their tree mates as a gentle breeze rustled the leaves. In the distance I thought I heard other cars, voices, the sounds of humanity and I wondered if they could see me being led blindfolded through the park. As we walked he told me how special I was to him and how much my birthday meant. It made my heart swell and my body tingle to hear such niceties.

She slipped out of the truck and I felt her for readiness. She was soaking wet and I pressed deep, almost picking her up off the ground. She was small in frame, but strong, limber, the body of a swimmer and the pussy of a whore. I shifted her to my left and closed the door, locked it and we began to walk. I slipped her shoes off and as I knelt behind her could smell she was ready for her birthday present. We walked along the path and then off into the grass into a small secluded field.

I heard the sounds of the forest as we walked on, confident in my choice of locations. As I led her with my right hand, I waved to my associates with my left, and they began to follow us, not too many at a time, and not too closely as to attract attention, but they knew the day was about to begin.

After finding my balance after going down a slippery patch of grass, we came to a flat section and I could feel the sun on my face even with the mask in in place. He let go of my hand and I stood, transfixed to the spot, uncertain as to where I was or where I would go in my darkened state. He took me again by the hand after taking my bad and he led me forward.  He placed my hand on a tall organic post, perhaps bamboo with fabric attached to it. In my head I imagined a screen wall of some sort. After turning to the left and to the left again I lost touch with the wall and could feel the sun from above but shade from the sides and the sounds of the forest were muffled now.

“Kneel.”

I obeyed and found my feet and knees on the thick pile of blankets, warmed by the sun and delicate on my skin.

“Lay on your back and quiet your mind.” His voice was adorably firm, just the way I liked it when he got into the commanding frame of mind. I could sense his presence as he knelt beside me, his hands lightly grazing the insides of my thighs. I thought I heard my toys clicking together as he reached inside my satchel. But I did not hear them turn on.

Her obedience was adorable, arousing, and as the sun shone down on her form, I smiled and felt my cock harden. I laid out the toys on the blanket next to her, her large tube of lubricant next to them. Kissing her gently on the forehead I stepped out of the enclosure and saw my associates lined up as instructed.

A young girl, barely 18 according to her offered ID, held the green ticket with the #1 on it. I took it from her hand, kissed her deeply on the mouth, and whispered in her ear that she could enter the enclosure. I pulled the stopwatch out of my pocket and click the green button and watched the numbers change 5:00, 4:59, 4:58, 4:57. It wasn’t until 4:15 that I heard them both gasp. The birthday present had begun.

The blankets were warm and soft on my back and I enjoyed the sun in the solitude of lying quietly under his care. I did not know what lay in store, but I could feel my nipples harden and my lips swell. He kissed me on the forehead and took his leave, I listened as his footsteps on the soft grass got fainter and then stopped just a few feet away. ‘Was he on the other side of the wall?’ I asked myself.  As I lay quietly I heard a murmur as if he was talking to someone in hushed tones then, tentative footsteps, lighter than his, unsure of themselves approached me. I lay quietly, my feet 6 inches apart, my arms at my side, waiting.

I felt a presence next to me, then inhaled deeply smelled her perfume, it smelled sweet, a young person’s perfume, and she leaned over and I could smell her hair, it brushed against my face and I giggled quietly unsure as to what to do next. I felt her hand on my breasts as the first touch. She squeezed gently, unsure as to what to do, so I sighed silently under my breath to give her my approval. She leaned in and put her lips on my ear, assuredly breaking the rules, and whispered “happy birthday.”

She knelt back up and I felt her hair leave my face and I hoped that was not the end. It most assuredly was not as I felt her young hand slide up from my knees between my legs until her hand touched both thighs, I willingly spread open for her and she pulled the white, wet, translucent fabric to the side, and fingered me deeply with one eager, clumsy stroke.  We both gasped loudly. My birthday had begun.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 
Please forgive, and read around, any typos,  This was written using Voice Recognition software and my editing time is limited.  Suffice it to say, I earned my 25 extra words in a big way.

Update

Sorry for the lack of posting. I've been so busy at work and so tired from this Lexapro that I pretty much go to bed right after dinner when we get home at night. Doesn't leave a whole lot of time for thinking up posts, alas. To J in WY and R in TX, both with birthdays this month, your presents have shipped! Hopefully they will arrive in time for your special days. If they do not show up by then, please let me know and I'll see what's going on. I will try to get the Christmas gifts out soon as well.

I had a terrible dream last night. Gurgles kept turning into my poor passed away kitty, Truck. Every time he'd transform, my heart would just break, and I was the only one who could see the transformation. Patrick and my parents were around, but they couldn't see it. I remember crying and screaming from grief, saying that since they couldn't see it, I must be hallucinating and was going mad. I must have dreamed that I ripped a chunk of my gums out as well, because I couldn't remember today if that had actually happened or not, and asked Patrick because it seemed so real, but I can't feel a wound in my mouth. He says that was a dream, so I guess it was. I woke up inside the dream, unable to escape, and finally woke up for real. Horrid dream. I hate the emotionally exhausting ones. I'd rather have the gore. Maybe tonight will be more peaceful.

Happy birthday to MEEEEEE

And also AAAAAH so many emails and text messages! haha I love you all. Thank you for the attention! Goodness gracious.

Further, if you were planning on calling me today, you may wish to either postpone it until tomorrow or alternatively send me a birthday email. I will be crazy busy at work until about 5, then we have to cram down some dinner and get to Tacoma for Patrick's symphony rehearsal, then back home around 9:45, hurry up and open presents, have a shower and go to bed. It is kind of a nutty day.

Just please don't be offended if I can't come to the phone, is what I'm saying! I'll be either working, driving or in a rehearsal hall until late.

Kisses and hugs all around!

Confidential to whomever sent me stuff

I'm not sure who these are from, so I can't send you an email directly and let you know your very much appreciated birthday package for me has arrived, but I've so far gotten packages from Shutterfly and Amazon (very thin and flat). So if any of you sent me those, thank you! I will thank you directly when I open them and find out what they are and who they're from on Tuesday.

Have a splendid, sniffle-free weekend, everybody.

Edit: second present's identity has been solved, too. Thanks, parents!

FFF - A gift for Franklin

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A birthday story (Part One)


“I don't know what to say,” she fiddled with the end of the heavy fork, tapping lightly on this intricately patterned china. She folded her arms across her chest, unfolded them, looked out the window, looked back at him, brought them to the table, clasped her fingers together and shrugged her shoulders.

“Then don't say anything.” He said just sit there. He looked at her, knowing that it made her uncomfortable. He sat upright in his chair his suit jacket hung on his shoulders as if the designer had him in mind when it was made. It was actually off the rack, but under the hands of a good tailor he was as comfortable in this suit as he was in shorts and a T-shirt. He stared at her. She had beautiful eyes, luscious hair and soft skin.

"Why are you staring at me?" She asked.

"I'm trying to decide what to do with you." He let his eyes trace her face. Well manicured eyebrows, expert makeup, appropriate for her age and a cute, quick smile, a her beautiful neckline led into a full cleavage that he had fantasized about for many weeks.

"I we going to order dessert or not?” She tried, but failed to hide a smile at the innuendo.

With a subtle gesture, the waiter was called over and she came scurrying. He pulled the Mont Blanc pen out of his pocket, signed quickly, added a generous tip, and stood. He extended his hand and she came to her feet feeling the intensity of his stare and feeling a little unsteady on the shoes that he had purchased for her.

"You look lovely tonight. I hope you appreciated my taste."

"Everything is beautiful, and it fit perfectly.”

She took his hand and felt his warmth. His hands were dry, confident, strong, not at all like her husbands, and she wondered what they would feel like pinning her wrists above her head. She imagined what he would feel like on top of her, inside her, controlling her gently. He took her by the arms and escorted her to the front or the restaurant where the maître d' shook his hand, wish them a good night and said goodbye to him by name.

“Andrew is an excellent manager,+ he said, “he's done wonders with this place.”

“It is a lovely spot.” She said “I just wish they had a wider selection of organics and seafood.”

"We'll have to see what we can do for next time."

She smiled at phrase ‘next time’ but wondered what he could do about the menu. Maybe he had done something with his money after all.

They left the restaurant and walked across the busy parking lot to the small, but exclusive stores set back in a grove of disconcertingly real plastic trees.

They window shopped for a few moments, making small talk about the expensive watches, the overpriced jewelry, and wondered aloud how anyone could spend $200 for a pair of jeans that were indistinguishable from the finest that Walmart had to offer.

“People don't understand value" he said as his hand slipped down her back across her waist line only to end up caressing her buttocks. "They have to know what they want, and what they are looking for."

She was shocked that he would be so bold after being the perfect gentlemen over dinner, but she enjoyed the attention. Her husband never gave her the time of day, and though they loved each other and despite the fact that she was still sexually attracted to him, it was not enough and she thrived on the new friends she had made. They stopped gazing at overpriced clothing for young people and turned the corner. A lingerie shop, small and intimate had a warm glow from candles places in the window.

“Are those real candles?” she asked, surprised to see open flame in a darkened window.

As she gazed at the dancing flames, a young raven haired beauty came to the door and unlocked it. Opening it slightly she looked at them.

"Mr. Anders?

He nodded, she nodded, and she pushed the glass door wide and let them in. "Welcome to La Perla, I hope you enjoy your shopping."

The store was dark but as they wandered through, their young host moved through the store with grace and added just enough light for them to see the beautiful merchandise. An adorable little redhead came out from the back room with some fresh brewed coffee and some biscuits and set them down on the table. ""Are we ready to begin?"

As she poured the coffee for the two guests she introduced herself, "my name is Delray," and yes, there is a story behind it but we will tell that another day."

She gestured toward the other girl who was busy adjusting merchandise on the on a shelf. "Her name is Lana, she is your fitting expert. I trust her with everything I wear, you can do the same."

It was obvious when Delray turned around that all of her clothes fit perfectly. Dana was staring at the younger girls, unsure as to what would happen next, she suspected that this was his reward for taking her out. But when he looked over at him he had not even noticed the younger girls and their beach-fresh beauty. He was looking only at her. She immediately felt her body respond, and she gasped.

"How would you like to do this Mr. Anders?"

Lana stepped over and checked her lipstick in the large mirror. She admired herself in the large mirror, smoothed her blouse, and turned to address “We can find things for you to try on, we can model them for you, or we can do a combination of both." She took Dana by the hand and helped her to her feet. “Let's move you to the place of honor.” And she was taken to a small semicircular room just a few feet off the sales floor,

"I'll break the ice," Lana said., She unbuttoned her blouse and dropped it onto the bench before anyone could protest. There is no doubt that she was beautiful,. “I am wearing the chrysanthemum line from the spring show 1988, a classic and still one of our best selling bras."

Her fingertips traced the edge of the silk across her full, but not oversized breasts. Dana ’s eyes were drawn to her fingernail as they traced against the flesh and then the silk that barely contained her breasts.” We have re-created the chrysanthemum line for this year with all new fabrics.” Now both hands cupper her curves and she caressed her breasts with love.

She took Dana ’s hand and put on her breast, right on the material that held her "It's okay,” she whispered for all to hear, I want you to feel how nice it is."

Dana had barely caught her breath when Lana backed up allowing DelRay to step forward similarly undressed from the waist up. Her bra was sheer black and more subtle on her smaller frame. Dana’s eyes were drawn to the perfectly pink nipples at the center of the cup.

"It's okay to touch them. I want you to know what Mr. Anders is looking for."

Dana blushed deeply as the younger girl spoke so boldly, so knowingly about what planned for her. She turned to look for him was, trying to find comfort in unfamiliar territory, he was gone. She stood alone with two beautiful half naked women who wanted her to try on lingerie for him to remove. They were so brazen, so knowing, that she felt lost, aroused, and fell completely under their control.

With approximately one month to go until I'm 32

Here are some things I have learned (all of these are vastly generalized, most of them from years ago, and none of these are directed at anyone who reads this, okay?):

1) People don't really like forgiveness. Oh, they love the principle of it. And when it's directed at themselves. But just try forgiving someone for anything more than a minor slight and see what people tell you. Chances are, you will get an awful lot of flak along the lines of: "Why didn't you stand up for yourself?" "Have some self respect!" "You can't let so and so walk all over you." "I can't believe you're being such a pushover." (and so forth) The entire business makes me roll my eyeballs so hard there's genuine danger of them becoming stuck in the back of my head, and then I go ahead and forgive whomever it was anyway. Because there are quite a few things in this life that are not worth losing a relationship over. This means you sometimes need to apologize for stuff you didn't do, and you need to suck up your pride now and then. Some people are not worth it, I agree. But quite a few are, and salvaging those relationships will make your life richer, even if you don't like taking the blame for something that wasn't your fault. Also, people can change, and if you don't forgive them and repair the relationship, you will never know if the way they changed might have made all the difference.

2) You can't do everything you set your mind to, regardless of what people tell you for a couple decades while you're younger and therefore more naive. You must get a grip and be realistic. This isn't to say you can't achieve amazing things. But you can't do everything. Some things require actual natural talent. Others take an entire lifetime to achieve. Realistically, we all have a finite span here on this planet, and we simply cannot do everything before it's up. Nor do we have all the native talent for every single thing we can conceive of doing. I, for one, will never be a professional golfer. THERE. I SAID IT.

3) Letting stuff go (or paying for it, if it's some sort of actual horrible crime) is the only way to successfully move forward. I say this as someone who has spent a lot of time dwelling on stupid, pointless garbage, so I know what I'm talking about. I'm not any good at forgiving myself for things, but I have to just let them go anyway. Dumb things I did years ago, stuff I still feel guilty about, will drown my days in stress and self-condemnation if I let it. And, say it with me, there is NOTHING I can do about it now. It's done. And in all likelihood, the people involved have long since forgotten I even existed. Just throw it in your mental trashcan and slam the lid down, then stick a crowbar through the lid and side handles.

4) I at least am really ungrateful for my body, and I should wise the hell up. I'd imagine this probably applies to a lot of people who don't like the way they look. I've always wanted to be one of those really thin, delicate types who looks graceful no matter what fool thing she's wearing (chunky sweater, burlap sack, jeggings, tarp). But this is never ever ever going to happen. No matter what. I think my skeleton is too big to look good in any of that stuff. And seriously, I need to get real. These legs of mine have carted my ungrateful carcass up and down mountainsides, miles and miles. They've lifted nearly 300 pounds at one time, moved furniture, won karate matches, and climbed trees. So what that they don't look tiny in a skirt I shouldn't be wearing anyway? I need to learn to love and appreciate myself. I don't want to be one of those people who doesn't figure that out until she's 90 and is about ready to kick it. I am healthy and strong, and I would miss this strength if it were gone. One gets used to having a certain amount of it, and I would feel helpless if I couldn't do the things I can do now.

So legs, I'm sorry for having felt poorly about you in the past. I'm going to try to remember how awesome you are going forward.

Forgive me?

Go show her some love...

It's Lola's Birthday!!!!

Go show her some love!


FFF 7/15 - Stock Still

“Crap! 9:30 already? “

Jerry jumped out of bed and ran through the shower, shaving his neck; hoping the stubbly look would work with the art crowd at the premiere this evening.  He skipped brushing, grabbed an apple and ran to the front of the building. 

“I need a cab!”, he said to the doorman who stood stock still at the door.

“Yes Sir” Maurice replied and blew his whistle that reminded Jerry of trains.

“You seen Marcy this morning?” Jerry asked “I’m late for breakfast.”

“Yes, she wanted me to give you this,” handing a note on letterhead, “she did not look pleased.”

“Jerry, I know we were supposed to meet for your birthday breakfast but there is a new exhibit I need reviewed at the gallery before the opening.  Meet me there ASAP.” (135)


He rounded the corner and his heart stopped, holding stock still in his chest as he tried to remember how to breathe.

There she stood, there she hung.

Where did the picture come from, what was going on?

The light from the gallery window highlighted her perfectly.  Like carved marble perfection, he wondered which version should be on display.

His heart found its rhythm, but it was unfamiliar and erratic.

Every thought about her he ever had flooded back into him

His first interview, the three follow-ups. The first time he noticed her hair, her perfume, shoes, her smile.

He remembered everything.  Each boyfriend that filled him with envy, every cup of coffee during long nights consoling her when they left.

Now she stood against the wall in perfect presentation.

“Happy Birthday Jerry.  I’m ready.” (135)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Again, I had to stretch the rules to get my story out.  While both may stand on their own, and the 2nd one throws the punch, I wanted the back story to get in their somehow.  I love the picture, and if work, schedule, and a midnight showing of Harry Potter hadn't gotten in the way I might have developed this more.  But that is what FFF is all about.  It's about the first response, the quick idea, the flow of words constrained by a number that force us into quick thinking and decisive action. 

The minute I saw the pictures I knew she was presenting a gift of herself, of her heart, of her everything.  It was the culmination of something, the end of a fight, the escalation of love, or even, in a sadder mind, a final goodbye.  I didn't put anything erotic in the words because the picture handled that so well for me this week.  All I had to do is explain why she was there, and to me, it was obvious. 

Go over to Insatiabear to see what other wonderful writers have joined in the fun, and, if your name's not on the list, get it there for next week.  And thanks to Lexi for finding another great picture.
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