Birthday Surprise
An Unprompted Freewriting
Today is my birthday, so I thought I’d let my imagination wander a little. Who knows what I’ll come up with, but let’s see where it takes me.
Pulling up to the house after work feels like just a normal day. A few people sent me birthday texts or emails, but really, it’s been quiet.
Just the way I like it.
I hate having to do the whole “Oh, today is your birthday! Have any plans” small talk, and trying to act excited when opening presents I don’t need is exhausting.
I have everything I could ever want, anyway. Another blouse or kitchen gadget means nothing to me.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad people are happy I was born, but shouldn’t the gifts go to my mother for doing all the hard work?
I grab my purse, satchel, and empty lunch bag off of the passenger seat and head up the walk. Paul’s car is in the driveway on my side instead of the garage.
Odd.
Reaching for the doorknob, I jump when it opens before I have a chance to turn it.
“OH! God! What the heck?” I say to my husband, Paul. “Why didn’t you pull into the garage?”
His face lights up like a kid hiding candy behind their back when he sings out teasingly, “You’ll see.”
He helps me into the house, setting all my things just inside the door instead of bringing them into the kitchen like usual. His hands find the collar of my jacket and slide it off my shoulders.
All the while, I stare at him, my eyebrows knitting together.
“What are you…?” I start, but he puts a finger to my lips and shushes me.
“Sweetheart. I love you. Every year you figure out what your gift is going to be before I give it to you, ruining it, and I finally got you something that’s stayed a surprise. Just go with it.”
He gives me a kiss that lingers, his hands moving to my waist, pulling me close.
“Mmmm,” I hum into his mouth as I rock my hips into him. “Hard for me already? Is that my surprise, because that sounds like it’s more for you than me.”
“Oh, you’ll know in just a few minutes that this is something we both can enjoy.”
Intrigued, I let him lead me down the hallway to the living room. On the couch is a small box tied to a balloon and a cupcake with a lit candle in the center.
I move to pick up the present but Paul stops me.
“Before you open this I want you to think about the fantasy you keep teasing me about…”
Fantasy?
My mind starts racing. We talk about a lot of crazy fantasies—dirty talk and post-sex musings.
“I guess…” I pause. My mouth opens and eyes get wide as my mind lands on the one thing I have been talking about since the day he asked what I’d love to do but would never dream would happen. “You didn’t!”
His smile is so bright that it makes my own cheeks hurt.
“Tell me,” he says, nodding. “I need you to say the words.”
I look down at the box, especially curious what might be in there, now. Nothing that small would fit into this scenario at all.
“I…” My cheeks flush with embarrassment. “I want to have… several… God, Paul! You’re going to make me say it? Ok.” I steal myself. “I want to be fucked by a bunch of guys both taking turns and together.”
He kisses me on the forehead like he’s proud of me.
My whole body gets warm, tingling with anticipation. Could he really have set something like that up? Does he have a bunch of guys in this house for me? Maybe in the garage? There’s no way.”
“And, what have I told you my fantasy is?” he prods.
“To watch…” I clear my throat and lick my now dry lips. My heart is beating so fast I’m certain I might need to sit down. “To watch someone fuck me.”
He nods at the box.
I open it to find a blindfold and folded up pieces of paper.
“What…”
“You’ll see,” he interrupts. “Well, I guess you won’t actually see, but you’ll find out soon enough. Eat your cupcake. You’ll need your strength.”
With the last bite of cupcake, Paul returns from the kitchen.
“You ready?” he asks.
“Yes…” I say, hesitantly.
“If you don’t want to…”
I put a hand up, stopping him. “I really, really want to do this but I’m nervous.”
“You can stop at any point. Just use red light or yellow light to slow down. You’re in control.”
I take a deep breath, calming myself as much as I can, and stand up. “OK. I’m ready.”
He comes to me.
Kissing me softly at first, he lifts my arms above my head to remove my blouse. Then the kiss become hungry, deepening as a fire ignites in my core.
My stomach flutters when his hands move down my body to unbutton my pants. I steady myself on the back of the chair, stepping out of each pant leg one at a time.
His fingers dance along my foot and ankle as he first takes off my shoe, then my sock. Repeating the action with the other foot.
Standing in front of him in my bra and panties, he takes a long look at me. Admiration clearly shines on his face, but when he picks up the blindfold, his eyes darken.
Need replaces awe.
It’s the last thing I see before I’m thrown into darkness.
“What are the papers…?” I whisper as he walks me toward the garage door next to the pantry.
“When we get inside, you’ll draw one.”
He doesn’t say anything else, just leads me toward my surprise.
The cool air hits me first sending a violent shiver through my body. My arms prickle with goosebumps and the tightening of my nipples brings a delicious pinch.
Something soft cushions my bare feet on what is usually the dirty concrete floor. When we stop, I swish my foot around, examining this rug or piece of carpet trying to figure out if I know where it came from.
My toe bumps into something. A mattress maybe?
“Pick one.” Paul guides my hands to the box and I shuffle the slips of paper around until I decide on one.
“Eight.”
“Eight?” I question. “Eight what?”
Instead of answering me, Paul lets go.
I’m now off balance, without an anchor or even the knowledge of what—or who—is in the room.
Someone clears their throat from my left, and instinctively I turn as if I can see who it is, but of course I can’t. The darkness stirs panic in with excitement.
My hands, I know realize, are still held up, testing the air for anything solid, and now I’m not sure if I should be reaching for this stranger or trying to push them away.
A growl… something deep in this man’s throat circles around me. It’s predatory but something about it settles in my spine, warming me up.
Before I can process what’s happening, I’m on my knees. face-down on what I now know is, in fact, a mattress. My bra is deftly undone and I scoop my arms out, tossing it aside.
With a hand on my back holding me in place, my panties are yanked down and my ass is given a smack.
I cry out but have no time to recover before another and another fill the room with a cracking sound.
My right ass cheek burns but I hold my position as a fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, and eighth spank is administered.
My breath rasps as I try to catch it and I say, “Oh. Eight.”
The hand that was on my back slides down to rub my tender skin but it doesn’t stay long. It moves lower, easing between my legs.
“How wet is she?” I hear Paul moan from the corner.
There’s no verbal response but the stranger’s finger glides into me, coming back out immediately. He must show my husband because he says, “Fuck, sweetheart. You’re so wet.”
I smile into the comforter and wiggle my ass.
“Oh… you want more?” His footsteps echo around the garage as he moves closer. “That’s my good little slut. You’re going to open your mouth for Eight’s cock but first, draw another number. Let’s see who’s next.”
I raise up onto my hands, holding one out for the box, and open my mouth dutifully. I squeeze my thighs together wishing for some friction on my throbbing clit.
It aches probably more than my ass cheek.
I draw another piece of paper and Paul takes it from me. Just as a cock hits my tongue, he says, “Twelve.”
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Happy birthday, beautiful Britnee xx so fucking hot xxx
What a deliciously wicked birthday surprise, Britnee!