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Monday, November 7, 2011

A Birthday Story


-i-
Yesterday was Rachael's birthday. She turned thirty-five, and I swear, she looks younger than when I met her nine years ago. Her firm body is just as firm, her proud breasts are still high and taunt, her bullet nipples still become likes little stones when she's excited, and these days she gets very excited, very often.
I want to tell you how we celebrated her "coming" of age into womanhood. It started about a week ago. She was somewhat morose about turning another year older, and I was doing my best to cheer her up. I assured her that she was not losing her charms, or her sexiness. But still, these were only words. Only she could choose to believe me or not.
"I promise you, you could still give a hard on to a corpse!" I had told her.
"Maybe before, but not now. Besides, I don't have the ability to stand up to the fucking and sucking I used to do."
"Rachael, I really want to see you snap out of this. What can I say to prove to you that you've still got more going for you than a dozen younger women?"
She didn't answer at first. I could tell she was thinking. Her birthday was really bothering her. I knew I would have to take drastic action.
"You know, to prove how good you are, I'm going to conduct an experiment. On your birthday, you are going to show me, and yourself, and a few other people just how fantastic you really are."
"What do you have in mind?"
"You'll see."


-ii-
The morning of her birthday, I woke her early with breakfast in bed. I'd fixed her favorite morning meal, strawberries and cream. As she sat up in bed, fluffed her pillows and prepared for breakfast, she seemed a bit happier than the night before. We chatted about nothing in particular. I really enjoyed watching her eat the meal I'd prepared. Not only did she enjoy my efforts, but I enjoyed watching her breasts as they rose and fell with each breath. The left one was covered by her nightgown, but the right breast was fully exposed, her pink nipple giving the strawberry a run for its money. It's pinkish hue and reddish brown tip built a fire in my cock that would soon have to be extinguished.
I got up from my chair when she'd finished eating. When I reached over her to pick up the tray, she deftly slid her hand inside my robe, and with confidence bred of familiarity, wrapped her hand around my cock.
"I knew it would be hard," she said.
"And how did you know?"
"I watched you watch my nip. Knowing that you were watching it so intently was what was making my nips get hard. And experience tells me that when I get hard, you get hard!"
She was right of course. My cock was rock hard. Instead of going downstairs with the tray, I set it on the recliner in our bedroom and returned to the bed where my wife was still laying. I pulled the covers away from her body, and to my delight, discovered the red satin gown she wore had ridden up to her thighs, exposing most of her legs. I knew there was only about two inches of skin between what I was looking at, and her hot pussy. Reaching down to her soft inner thigh, I gently stroked her tender leg. At the same time, I bent over and took her right nipple into my mouth, sucking, biting, pulling it out even further with my teeth.
She responded immediately! Her nipple hardened into a soft steel bullet, with her involuntary thrusts to push it further into my hot mouth. Her legs parted. A little at first, then wider, and finally wide enough for me to mount her. That was what she wanted. She wanted me to shove my hard cock into her soft wet pussy. But no one can fuck my wife better than me, and I knew she could become a great deal hotter if I teased her a bit more. My hand continued its petting of her open inner thigh, but I did not touch her cunt. She tried to trap my hand there, tried to inveigle me into stroking her damp love box, maybe more than stroking. She wanted satisfaction, and she wanted it now.
But I am a man of patience, and I knew she wasn't near as hot as she could be. I continued my teasing, as she continued the digital manipulation of my cock. Her small hand was wrapped around as much of my turgid dick as she could get to, while she continued to moan and writhe under my hand loving I was giving her. She started to give words to her movements.
"Oh, Phillip! Touch me. Touch my cunny. Make me come on your fingers! Oh, baby, I need you to put your hand on my pussy. I need that fat cock of yours in my cunt!"
Slowly I started to move upward, toward that damp hot musky secret place between her legs. I moved my fingers exceedingly slowly, so slow that I felt her urgency build with the speed of a 747 as it ascends skyward.
"Don't tease me. I need to feel you in my pussy! Please!"
Her pleas fell on deaf ears, however. I did not speed up my movements. Quite the opposite, I tended to move my fingers away from her steaming pussy. She must have thought I was losing interest, or maybe she thought she could raise the ante, at any rate, her next move didn't surprise me. Instead of straining to get her cunt closer to my hand, she sat up in bed, turned her head toward the mid section of my robe. She took my hard cock (which by now was about as hard as it gets) and pulled it into her mouth.
She sucked me half-way in on the first contact. I felt her tongue swirl around the head of my cock, while her lips increased their pressure on the portion of the shaft already buried in her mouth. Her teeth came down on the tender hardness that was my cock, and she began chewing on my dick with the gentleness of a baby tiger suckling its mother's teat! Her right hand was still trying to encircle the base of my love tool, while her left was digging into my ass cheeks, forcing me to come closer to her sucking lips!
While all the oral action was taking place on my hard cock, Rachael had flung her legs wide open, allowing me full access to her hot cunt. The outer lips had separated and her inner most private section was wide open, and if it could be as vocal as her other mouth, it would have screamed, "Fuck Me!"
I continued to fondle her inner thigh, but now I was only millimeters away from her still untouched pussy. Rachael pulled her legs up to her chest and revolved around on the mattress to the point that now my turgid cock was pointing in the same direction as her gaping pussy. She dropped my cock out of her mouth and slid her ass toward me. I was standing on the side of the bed, my wife's legs encircling my waist and her pussy about to take my dick inside, regardless of my intentions. She was out of control, ruled by lust, and wanting to be fucked! What could I do but accommodate.
My cock sank into her wet pool of passion. There was no resistance to the assault. The first stroke went half-way into her pussy, the second stroke saw my dick buried to the hilt in wet cunt! And then she went wild. Bucking of the bed, she gave over entirely to her needs.
"Fuck me, you bastard! I need your dick and you're making me beg for it! I need you to come in me, I need to feel you shoot your hot load in me!"
I was not fucking her. She was fucking me. As I stood there, almost without moving, my wife rammed her cunt against my pubic hair, over and over again. She was totally caught up in the moment. It had been a long time since I'd seen her so completely committed to a fuck. Usually Rachael maintains some semblance of control while fucking, some degree of mastery over the person she's fucking, but not this morning. This morning she was driven to fuck, and she didn't care how badly she acted. She wanted cock, and now, with mine buried deep inside her pussy, she intended to finish what I'd started.
"I want to feel you dump your load inside my pussy!"
"You just want to feel anyone dump a load inside your pussy!" I responded.
"Yes, but you're there now, and you'll do. Fuck me you prick!"
"Rachael, I love it when you admit what you are. Tell me and I'll come for you."
"Just fuck me. Shut up and fuck me!"
"Tell me what you are!" I demanded.
"Phillip..."
"TELL ME!!!!!"
"I'M A WHORE! I'M A WHORE AND I NEED TO BE FUCKED. AND I WANT TO BE FUCKED NOW!"
"By who, dear?"
"I DON'T CARE BY WHO. I'M A WHORE AND A SLUT AND ALL I CARE ABOUT IS GETTING FUCKED BY A HARD DICK. NOW COME IN MY PUSSY, YOU SON OF A BITCH!"
And I did come. But now, the difference in Rachael was amazing. She was totally lost to the fucking. I learned early on in our marriage that the one thing that turns her on more than anything else is to be forced to beg for cock, and then have to admit she's no better than any street whore, looking for a hard dick. I'm sure it has something to do with the strict way she was raised, but for Rachael, nothing gets it faster than being forced to act like a slut, and then admit verbally that she is one.
I shot my come deep inside her. Six times my cock convulsed and six times I shot a spurt of hot love cream in my wife's pussy. Finally we both calmed down. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, not from pain, but from self inflicted shame and humiliation. It was the ultimate orgasm for her. She looked up at my face and saw the love I had for her. My softening cock was still in her pussy, and I slowly pulled it out of her, and turned her back on the mattress, so now she was lying in her regular position on the bed. I took one step upward toward her, and she knew what to do.
Without my asking, she leaned forward and gently took my now flaccid penis into her mouth, sucking it quietly, tenderly. This was not an exercise to get me hard again. She was merely cleaning my cock for me with her mouth. It was her way of thanking me for making her come. I knew it for what is was, and somehow my cock did too. I did not grow another erection, but rather just enjoyed the warmness of my dick inside her hot moist mouth. When she was finished cleaning me, I pulled it out from between her sweet lips and laid next to her on the bed. She buried her face in my chest and fell back asleep. Looking at her lay there, I couldn't believe that ten minutes earlier she had been a wanton whore, begging me to fuck her. Now she looked more like a little girl laying next to her father for a nap.
But that would all change. I had big plans for her that day. Plans that included a lot of bed, but very little sleep. As I heard the lawn mower start in the yard outside, I knew the day's activities were about to begin. Juan, our gardener was already at work. Or so he thought!