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Birthday Boy

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Like many married men, I was pretty happy during the early years of my marriage. We were very much in love, and everything seemed new and fresh and wonderful — particularly where sex was concerned. Dana was a lively partner in bed; there wasn’t much I wanted to do that she wasn’t willing to try, and I think she would say the same of me. Not that we were particularly kinky, but we were pretty adventurous about when, where and how we did it. My wife got a serious thrill out of fucking in places where we ran a fair chance of getting caught, and several times we did. But as the years wore on, and kids came, and responsibilities multiplied, our sex life suffered, as it does for so many couples. It was great when we did it, but we didn’t do it often, and after a while I think we were both going through the motions. She didn’t even seem interested in getting caught anymore. For a long I found a way to make my peace with this change. I figured all couples go through it. But I reached a point — as I guess many people do, both men and women — where my sexual urges simply weren’t being satisfied. I had always been a frequent masturbator, even when our sex life was at its peak, but now it seemed like I was beating off all the time and enjoying it less and less. I can truthfully say I wasn’t actively looking to stray outside my marriage. But it’s not exactly true to say I was totally resistant to the idea, either. I took more notice of other women than I had in years, and I realized that some of them had been noticing me, though I had been too dense to see it. One of my wife’s best friends — married to a guy I grew up with — came on to me pretty strongly once at a backyard party where pretty much everyone was drunk, pulling me around a dark corner and “accidentally” brushing the front of my jeans with the back of her hand. She turned her face up to mine, pretty much demanding to be kissed. It was only then I realized that she — Nikki — had unbuttoned her blouse, that she wasn’t wearing a bra, and that what I had always considered an exceptionally fine pair of tits could be viewed with a very slight movement of my hand. I felt an instant stiffening of my cock and came very close to making that slight movement, but something held me back, and after stammering some stupid excuse I managed to get away. She did not seem offended that I dodged her, and when my wife and I left shortly afterward she gave me a look that said unmistakably, “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.” There were many nights over the next couple of weeks when I fantasized about what might have happened if I hadn’t walked away. Every one of those nights I ended up sneaking off somewhere to beat off at the memory of those tits, barely concealed between the parted front of her blouse. I felt guilty about betraying my wife — I couldn’t think of another word for it — but I couldn’t stop doing it, either. About three weeks after the party, just as the fantasies were getting less frequent and less insistent, Dana’s boss decided to take a four-day weekend and told her she could do the same. She decided to pull the kids out of school early Friday and take them to see her parents, who lived about two hours away and hadn’t seen their grandchildren in months. She seemed to have forgotten that Friday was my birthday. I was about to remind her but, Escort bodrum I decided to say nothing. I guess I wanted, for purely selfish reasons, to enjoy her guilt when she eventually remembered. “I can’t get away that early,” was all I said. “I know,” she said. “Why don’t you just stay here Friday night and drive up Saturday?” “But I’ve got tickets for the MSU game on Saturday, remember? Mike and I got these tickets months ago.” MIke was Nikki’s husband. “Shit,” she said. “I forgot. Well, I guess you’re baching it for the weekend.” I was a little hurt, and I must have looked it. “I”m sorry,” my wife said. “I really wasn’t thinking. I’ll tell Mom and Dad we’ll make it another time.” “No,” I said. “Go ahead. I’ll be all right.” I really didn’t want to be left behind, to tell the truth, because I like Dana’s parents and we always have a great time when we visit. I was a little sore about my birthday, too; I was pretty sure Dana’s mom wouldn’t have forgotten it. But after a while I started to like the idea of having a weekend by myself and, again to tell the truth, I wasn’t sorry about the chance of seeing Nikki when I went to pick up Mike on Saturday. I was surprised, though, when Mike called me at work on Friday. “Hey, Nikki says Dana’s going up to her ‘rents for the weekend. Why don’t you come over tonight after work and spend the night, and you can stay over again after the game, and that way you’re not driving so much and can party a little more?” This was very tempting, because I knew that for Mike and Nikki, partying meant firing up a joint or two, which I almost never got to do anymore, and because I would see Nikki again, though I had no idea what I would do when I did. And of course I felt guilty about straying even in thought from my wife, and about betraying an old friend, even in thought, in the process. It was even possible one of them would remember my birthday. “Okay,” I said. “I should get off work about 6. I’ll pack a few things and be there by 8.” “Great,” he said. “I’ll have the barbecue lit and the hot tub ready.” “Hot tub?” “Yes, didn’t I tell you? We got a hot tub installed a few weeks ago. It’s awesome. Bring your suit.” “Okay,” I said. “Or don’t,” he said, and laughed. “Okay,” I said again. “Ciao!” he said, and hung up. Was he serious about not bringing the suit? Sitting at my desk, I had a vision: the three of us naked in the hot tub, Nikki’s fine tits bobbing at the surface with the nipples now and then visible. I got an immediate hardon, and it was all I could do not to sneak off for a wank in the john. Somehow I got through the next couple of hours, managing to finish the project I was working on but never quite getting the image of Nikki’s bobbing tits out of my mind. When I left had to carry my jacket in front of me to cover the bulge in my pants, and it was a relief to get into the car, where I loosened my belt buckle and lowered my zipper to give my throbbing cock some room to stretch. “Jesus,” I thought. “Maybe I shouldn’t go through with this.” But at 8 o’clock I was at their front door, freshly showered and carrying a canvas bag with two bottles of chilled white wine. When Nikki opened the door I almost dropped the bag. She was wearing a pair of very short shorts and a filmy-looking blouse, unbuttoned, that made no pretense whatsoever of covering Escort Kuşadası her tits, which were again braless. The light in the entrance hall wasn’t bright, but I could still see where the paler skin gave way to the dark areolas, and in the slight evening chill the nipples were clearly erect. The chubby I had had since leaving the house suddenly got chubbier. Nikki eyed me flirtatiously. “Hi, you.” She stepped forward, slipped her arms around me and kissed me full on the lips. “Glad you’re here,” she said. She took the bag from me with one hand, grabbed my hand with the other and pulled me into the house. Mike was in the kitchen, pouring barbecue sauce into a glass pan full of half-cooked chicken breasts. His shirt was unbuttoned and a big joint was dangling from his lips. “Dude,” he said. Mike still talked like a teenaged stoner sometimes. He took a big hit from the joint and handed it to me. I took a long hit of my own and immediately had a coughing fit. By the time I got my shit together Nikki had opened one of the wine bottles and poured me a tall glass. While I sipped it the two of them smiled at me. “Sad what happens to people when they stop smoking enough dope,” Mike said. “Tough to smoke dope with kids around,” I said. “One reason we didn’t have any,” Nikki said. The other reason, I knew, was that Nikki had had a couple of miscarriages when she and Mike were first married, and they eventually decided it was better not to risk her health by getting pregnant again. I suddenly felt like we were in delicate territory, but Nikki had already moved on. “Let’s put the food on,” she said. She picked up the pan of chicken and headed for the patio, where she and MIke had installed one of those brushed-steel grills the size of an aircraft carrier. When she turned to slip through the sliding glass doors a breeze caught her blouse, and for a moment one breast was clearly visible. I turned away, but when I did I found myself looking straight at Mike. I started to say something apologetic, but he stopped me. “It’s cool, dude,” he said, handing me the joint. “Totally cool.” He picked up the wine bottles and the barbecue tongs and walked out. As he did I noticed he was wearing short shorts, too, not cutoffs but not exactly pants, either; more like boxers, and for a second I had the impression he wasn’t wearing underwear. As I took another hit of the joint, the first one took effect. My head swam for a couple of seconds. “That was fast,” I thought. I looked out through the glass doors. While Mike spread the pieces of chicken on the grill, Nikki filled their glasses with wine. As she did so she turned my way, and seeing me she spread her arms aside so that the blouse fell open. Once again nearly her fine tits came into view, and I couldn’t help smiling. She smiled back. “What is going on here?” I asked myself. Nikki turned away again to set the table on the porch. I went out, carrying a big bowl of salad along with my glass, and while Mike cooked the chicken we finished the joint and talked. Stoned talk, mostly — about how good the chicken smelled and how the air was cool but not too chilly and what a strange burbling sound the hot tub was making. When the chicken was almost done Mike turned off the patio floodlights and turned on the somewhat dimmer lights that ringed the dining area. bodrum escort He also turned on a small heater to take off a bit of the the chill. Dinner was fabulous. We were pretty stoned by the time it was ready, and like lots of stoned people we ate enthusiastically, licking our fingers and making little animal grunts of pleasure. We finished the first bottle of wine and started the second one. When the chicken was gone we looked at each other, and the sight of barbecue sauce smeared on all our faces set us off on a round of giggling that took 10 minutes to subside. Finally Nikki got up, went inside for a few minutes and came out again with some small towels wet with hot water. Handing one to Mike, she stepped over to my chair with the other and said, “Let me clean you up.” I shifted my chair a bit so I could face her more directly, and found myself staring straight at her chest. My dick stirred. She tilted my chin up with one hand and with the other used the towel to wipe my mouth and cheeks. She did this slowly and almost sensuously, leaning in so close that for a second I thought she was going to kiss me. “I’m ready for a soak,” I heard Mike say behind her. As Nikki backed away, her eyes still locked on mine, Mike crossed the patio, pulled the cover off the hot tub and leaned it against a fence that screened the tub from the neighbors. He pulled off his shirt, slid his boxers off — I had been right; he wasn’t wearing underwear — and climbed in. I turned back to where Nikki was standing, a foot or two away from me. As I watched she shrugged off the blouse and those splendid tits came into view once again They were wonderfully round and full, and the nipples were tautly erect. My dick stirred again, and I had to shift a little in my chair to give it room to stretch. Nikki smiled at that. She kept smiling as she hooked her shorts with her thumbs and pulled them slowly, slowly down. No tan line. No underwear. No pubic hair. When she was standing before me, her magnificent body totally naked, I turned to look at Mike. “Nice, huh?” he said. All I could do was gulp some wine. Nikki strode over to the hot tub. As she climbed in, she made a point of bending over so I could get a good look at her ass. “Come on in, dude,” Mike said. I stood up, feeling a bit dizzy from the wine, the pot and the situation, and walked slowly over to the tub. Nikki had settled into the crook of Mike’s arm, and they both looked at me expectantly. I took off my shirt, and was about to take off my pants when it dawned on me that I had pretty close to a full-on boner. “Fuck it,” I thought, too stoned to care much about proprieties, and dropped my pants. My cock felt like it was about to tear through the fabric of my underwear. I was about to shuck them when Nikki said, “Let me help.” She stood up. Her wet body glistened in the mellow light. She came over to the steps and in one smooth motion grasped the waistband of my boxers and slid them to my feet, being careful not to snag the waistband on my cock. As I stepped out of them Nikki slid back into the water. I stood there, my cock sticking straight out, unsure what to do. “Come on in,” Mike said cheerfully. “Don’t worry about the boner. I got one, too.” He stood up, and I got the first look at his cock since the locker room in high school. I had thought then — though I tried not to think about it at all, given the usual teenage muddle about sexual identity — that he had been pretty lucky when the dicks got handed out. His cock wasn’t unusually long, but it was very thick and solid-looking; a substantial dick; one, I thought now, that could hardly fail to satisfy a woman.

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