I’ve just been given a rather nice birthday present and it made me think of previous birthday treats I’ve enjoyed, which made me all warm and squishy inside as I’m sure you can imagine.
In fact I’ve had more than my fair share of birthday treats over the years, partly because I’ve had more than my fair share of birthdays. Some years, I’ve had as many as six or seven birthdays, and six or seven treats. Plus Christmas, of course.
As you may have guessed, we’ve often used the ‘birthday treat’ as a way of getting fit young men to take me upstairs and give me a proper present, and in fact we’ve domne it so many times not even Roger can remember how many it is exactly, and keeping score has always been his job. But he says we must have done it twenty times over the years, but he can’t be sure because we hadn’t done it for ages until we saw these four young guys in the bar.
We’d been late-night shopping (yes, yes, I know, but when you’re a girl there are some things you’ve just got to do), amused ourselves flashing my knickers at lorry-drivers on the motorway, and then stopped for dinner on the way home at a place that’s only about ten minutes from our house. It’s an old Victorian house, now a restaurant on the first floor and a couple of bars downstairs. Quite nice, actually.
So we ate, and went to the quiet bar, which was very quiet, just us two and four young guys, and I didn’t really take very much notice of them until Rog suggested I might like to shag them. All of them. Even while I was looking across at them to decide if any of them were good looking I could feel the wetness leaking into my pants, which were already quite damp enough thank-you from all the motorway flashing, and I knew that I definitely wanted to fuck them, even if every one was a minger.
But none of them was. They were just average. Not handsome, not ugly. Not one of them a day over 22, if you want my opinion, which made them just about perfect. But they were very busy talking among themselves, not drinking a lot, and not really taking very much notice of us. Well, me, really.
I gave them the chance to admire the wet patch in my knickers for a bit but they didn’t even glance our way. I told Rog that I thought they were a lost cause and that’s when he said he’d do the birthday treat thing again, which we hadn’t done for ages. So I sat back in my chair all demure, knees together, and he went over to proposition them, and I started thinking about the first time we did this. I can’t remember all the other times, really, but it’s funny how we remember firsts – first of almost anything really, but especially sex.
When Roger and I started all this having sex with other people, more years ago than I really want to remember now, it all began with a young guy who worked with hubby. You can read about that here, if you want a reminder. But we had so much fun with him that we decided to go to the next step and involve a complete stranger. Now we’d already made a start, just fooling around in bars and clubs; me showing off my knickers and dancing close with young lads and whatever, and that was dead horny of course, so the next step was to shag one, though I wasn’t really sure how to go about it.
I mean, it’s not an easy thing to bring up in conversation, fancy a shag, come back to my room, oh and by the way, hubby will be taking a few pictures of us both in action… at least, I didn’t think it was easy, although I’ve said it loads of times since then. So Rog volunteered to handle the tricky bit if I’d take care of the shagging. It’s worked well ever since, really.
So we were away for the weekend in London, staying in a hotel near the West End, and around midnight when we we’d both had enough to drink, we walked into a big bar and Rog told me to choose a bloke, and he’d get him organised. The one I settled for wasn’t the best-looking by a long way, with kind of scrappy dark hair and gold-rimmed glasses, but he was about the right age (26, as it tuned out, so close enough), and he was sat at the bar alone, so no complications. Most important of all, though, was that he smiled at me when I was looking him over, and none of the others did. Too busy being sultry, I suppose.
So I pointed him out, and we wandered over, and Rog did his stuff, telling him it was my birthday and that he’d promised I could have anything I wanted and I’d chosen a fit young man to shag. You may be surprised to learn that he didn’t really believe us. But he asked questions, and seemed interested. But he had a fiancee back home in Canada who he was a bit concerned about (he worked in a bank in London, which explained the looks anyway), and he had trouble believing we weren’t just messing around.
I snogged him quite severely for a minute or two, which he responded to quite well considering he’d had no warning, and that overcame his first objection. So then I snuggled up close and pushed his hand up my skirt, which I also didn’t warn him about, and he nearly fell off his stool. Soon got the hang of it though, and once he’d found the wet bit he seemed very happy indeed. So happy that I had to prise his hand off me when we went outside to find a cab.
As soon as we were sat down on the back seat his hand wenty straight back up there, two fingers sttraight in me and he seemed happy to sit there, squiching around while the cab bounced through Soho and I did my best not to scream so loud people would think I was bing murdered.
Obviously the cabbie knew what was going on but he mmust have seen it all and more, and hardly took any notice. Rog was smiling all over his face and so was Canadian Bob, because he obviously thought it was his digital skills that were having this huge effect rather than the situation (as always, I have since discovered) and the bouncy cab ride. Better than a washing-machine, and every bit as good as a rabbit. Just add two fingers and squirm until finished. Which I did. Twice. And it wasn’t a very long cab ride.
But when it ended I had to pull him off me so I could get out and walk into the hotel, and as soon as we were in the lift he was straight back up my skirt, fingering away in me like he’d not touched a pussy in his life before. He was the same in the room, on me before the door had closed, virtually shoving me back on the bed, pulling my knickers aside and pushing his cock in me while I was still in mid-air.
Which I have to say was very nice. I do like them keen and he was definitely that all right – in out in out and then spraying everywhere, gallons of hot thick cum, mostly in me where I like it best and making me cum again as well, but a lot of it on me, onto my pussy, my tummy, the insides of my thighs, just all over the place. Which as many people know, is something I really, really like, and find quite complimentary as well.
He was very apologetic, but I reassured him that I enjoyed it and said I’d get it back again in no time. So we got stripped off and I sucked him back to life, which didn’t take long, and gave me a chance to admire a very handsome cock, thick and straight and reasonably long. I don’t measure them, but it was definitely two hands when it was ready again, which I also like, as you may know.
So I rode him happily for a while, and then he got behind me and fucked me nice and hard until we both came again, me very nicely and very loudly, him with almost as much force and as much spunk as the first time, which was lovely and the main reason for all my noise.
After that Rog decided it was time for him to shag me as well, and we had a nice long slow missionary, which felt fantastic with all Bob’s spunk already in there, and Rog saying he liked the feel of it as well, and that got Bob all hard again, so he stood beside the bed and I sucked him slowly until he came again, lots of it still, all over the place, and the sight of me being covered with spunk, in my hair and on my face and dribbling from my mouth set Roger off at the same time, which was a simply amazing sensation and made me cum very loudly again.
To be honest I think he’d been faithful to his fiancee back in Canada for the whole of the last 18 months and that’s why his balls were so full of cum, and why he simply couldn’t leave the pussy alone. And he really couldn’t. As soon as Roger got off he was back at me, fingers busy, and then he’d rolled me on my face and was cramming himself back inside while he was still only half hard. But doggie is a good position for that, especuially when the pussy is very well lubricated, and mine was, and in no time at all he was back to full size and fucking away as if his life depended on it.
Which was very nice for me too, of course, because although I don’t really have a favourite position (I like them all, I’m pleased to say) I do count it essential to include at least one proper doggy in the evening somewhere, and this one was very proper, thanks to the fact that he had a bice big cock with a big head on it (ask any girl how nice THAT feels) and he was just gagging to use it.
And of course he was a bit more relaxed now, so this one lasted a lot longer, and we had a few more variations and generally shagged all round the room. Then we had a shower, and I shaved him very carefully, tested it for stubble with my mouth and then climbed on him when that made him hard enough to fuck, and we managed to have a nice little shag before we all but fell over, and went back to the bedroom to carry on, which he did with a great deal of stamina, which made me pretty sure he’d been saving it up for a long time.
If this evening was indeed his first and only moment of weakness he certainly got maximum value from it, non-stop shagging and sucking from the moment we got in the taxi really, and if he hadn’t had to go home and get ready for work in the morning I doubt if we’d ever have got rid of him. As it was he was still fingering me as we said goodbye at the door at about 5 am, me naked with my legs apart and lucky no-one happened to be passing in the corridor.
Anyway. Funny how it sticks in your mind. First ones.
But now look at the time. Here’s me with loads to do and all I’ve written about is the fiorst one, not the lasty one, which is what I meant to be talking about. I’ll have to do the rest of it tomorrow.
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