The best birthday, pt1 [MF] [bd] [oral] [anal] [swing references]

I woke up, as I’d half guessed I would but was still thrilled to realise, to the firm pressure of my wife’s lips on my cock. Still half asleep and feeling contentedly entitled (well it was my birthday) I lay there passively, my eyes still closed, as she worked away, eventually sending a lazy hand down under the blankets to stroke her hair as I blew some quiet kisses her way, then slumping back into relaxed arousal. I don’t know how long she’d been working it but she gives the best blow jobs of anyone I know and it didn’t seem long in my foggy state before I was ready to burst. I knew she’d gladly swallow me, but I was turned on by the idea that she had no choice in the matter and so I sent the lazy hand back down again to hold her gently by the neck and keep her mouth around the head of my dick as I came.

She crawled up the bed and nuzzled into my neck, I wrapped my arms around her and – it seems – fell back to sleep.

Some time later, I have no idea how long, I was awoken by the smell of coffee. I opened my eyes to a beautiful sight: my darling wife and a hot mug of the stuff.

Monica really was a stunning woman. Just a few months younger than me at 35, she was no longer a youth, but maturity had only made her more beautiful: adding a nobility to her kindly face, and frankly cool as hell grey strands to her shoulder length dark blonde/light brown hair. Her generous c-cup breasts were still pert and firm and her body was still to die for: her skin was golden and flawless and regular climbing had given it a tightness and definition without any muscular bulges – just delightful smooth lines. And then of course those eyes: those giant hazel eyes that you could spend weeks lost in.

She was wearing about my favourite object in the world: a very old, very short, very low cut, very loose fitting gold camisole, which concealed almost nothing and had historically never stood in the way of me interacting with what lay underneath.

Fuck it, the coffee could wait, she was too stunning not to fuck.

I met her with a passionate kiss, manoeuvred the coffee on to the sideboard, and jumped her.

I can’t really describe our sex because you really had to be there. Having spent thousands of hours around each other’s bodies we knew exactly how to make each other happy. Today there seemed to be an added intensity to our attempts to please each other: her because it was my birthday, me because I was so grateful for the way the morning had started. In fact we were almost trying too hard to make it good, falling over ourselves and each other in our desire to please, and then collapsing into delighted laughter when we noticed this dynamic. So it was intermittent, languid, leisurely, and by no means the most mindblowing sex either of us had ever had. But it was sweet, passionate, romantic, deeply deeply satisfying and absolutely delightful. The camisole stayed on for most of it, although a breast escaped out of it early on.

We nuzzled and cuddled and kissed and drank coffee. Then she put the camisole back on and brought in some papers and pastries and we had a relaxed breakfast in bed. Then she gave me a present: a tightly wrapped and oddly shaped package in green paper. It was a high quality leather and silicone red ball gag. Alongside it was a note: “this should save us a fortune on lube ;-)”

“Wanna take it for a test ride?”, said Monica. “You ready to go again? You can take my arse if you’d like”.

I wasn’t going to turn that opportunity down. We both loved anal but we’d agreed that in order to make sure it remained special we’d only do it very occasionally. For the same reason it was the only thing we were never permitted to do with anyone else. I replied delightedly and she immediately threw the camisole off, the bedclothes to the floor, and positioned herself in a face down spreadeagle.

Our bed had four point restraints in each corner that attached to a central ratchet lever by the foot. I fastened the padded straps and then went to the end of the bed and pulled her taught. She let me know when it was tight enough, and then I pumped the lever once more to be annoying. She looked back and gave me a sneer, then raised her head upwards and forwards, her mouth wide open for me to attach the gag. This I did. I was already pretty hard, but went utterly rigid leaning over her to fasten the gag, looking at the heave of her beautiful shoulders still glistening from the morning’s activities.

Her cute note notwithstanding I did use lube, lots of it. Going in dry’s pretty painful for the man too, and I had plans for my dick today which didn’t involve it getting torn at … at whatever time it was now, about 10am I’d guess?

Lube also allows you to go harder and faster and I took full advantage of that, pounding her like a blacksmith’s anvil. It was incredibly hot and if I hadn’t come twice that morning already I’d have shot my load in seconds. As it was I was able to smash into her for long enough that both we and the bedsheets were sodden with sweat by the time I collapsed on top of her exhausted and spent.

“Good gift”, I said, having not heard anything but muffled groans from her the entire time. I freed her and we kissed deeply and held each other until we started to feel normal again.

Which is when the doorbell rang.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/enm6ew/the_best_birthday_pt1_mf_bd_oral_anal_swing