The big three-zero was very nearly upon me, much to my chagrin. When I was twenty, thirty seemed like a lifetime away. When I was twenty-five, thirty seemed like it was several decades away. Even when I turned twenty-nine, thirty still seemed rather far off into the future.

But, thirty was upon me. And as I awoke and gazed upon my wife, I realized that even though she was still twenty-nine, she also would soon be thirty, that she was also getting old.

Still very beautiful, but still getting old.

Suddenly, I felt even older.


I worked a half-day on my thirtieth birthday, and that was only because I had an unavoidable meeting with the CEO that morning.

On returning home, I was surprised to see two cars in the driveway, parked bumper to bumper: my wife’s red Corvette, and a brand-new baby blue Eclipse, with the dealer tag still in the lower-left rear window. The tracks in the snow appeared rather fresh, and when I pressed my hand against the hood of each vehicle, I felt a slight warmth permeating the glove. Clearly, Justine had a guest, but given that I had not seen a baby blue Eclipse before, I wondered which of our friends would have recently bought a new car.

My wife peered out the window as I walked from the garage to the front door, then greeted me as I stepped into the house. “Welcome home, Birthday Boy!” she said as she hugged me enthusiastically.

“I certainly don’t feel like a boy,” I replied honestly and a little wearily following the three-hour meeting and the long drive home.

“Well, your first birthday present is already waiting for you upstairs.”

“Okay. By the way, whose Mitsubishi is that in the driveway? Who bought a car recently?”

My wife simply grinned, a glimmer of naughtiness in her eye. “Your present.”

That stopped me in my tracks. “My ‘present?'”

“Actually, her parents bought it for her. She’s upstairs in the guest bedroom.”

I was so dumbfounded by the fact that my present was a person – a “her,” a “she” – that Justine had to physically help me out of my winter coat and push me toward the staircase. When I opened the door to the guest bedroom, I was so incredibly amazed that if my jaw did indeed ricochet off the floor, I did not feel it.

“She’s all yours,” my wife whispered, standing behind me. “Your fantasy awaits you. Happy birthday, sweetie.”

“Wait. Where did…? How did you…?”

“She works at the small coffee shop near my office. She graduated high school a year early, spent the fall traveling, and now she’s working part-time serving coffee to earn some money for when she goes to college. And, perhaps just as importantly, today just happens to be her eighteenth birthday! So go have some fun with your fantasy girl, with your birthday twin.”

Justine simply kissed my cheek, quickly fondled my growing erection, and left, closing the door to the guest room behind her.

She was certainly small, perhaps only five feet tall… if wearing platform heels. With her tiny frame, her breasts seemed out of proportion, her nipples long and thick like tiny erections. Both pillows had been stacked underneath her head, her long lavender-dyed hair positioned to form a halo effect around her head. She wore no make-up, no jewelry, no clothing – nothing which might identify her other than the dyed hair and a prominent lengthy scar just below her right armpit.

She could not see, for my wife’s favorite blindfold kept her in a world of darkness. Although she remained still upon the bed, for thick leather cuffs encased her ankles and her wrists, with the cuffs connected by thick heavy silver chains to bolts in the posts of the king-size bed. She could not hear, for she wore DJ-style headphones with a lengthy cord running through the slots in the headboard and along the wall to the dresser, where the white noise machine stood proudly, its green indicator Etlik Escort light signaling that it was indeed performing its calming duty.

She was indeed my fantasy. I remembered the night of the honeymoon, when my newlywed wife had finally bared her body to me, just has she had bared her heart and her soul to me for so long. I remembered the lengthy foreplay as we slowly tore down the unspoken barriers which had prevented a truly complete joining up to that night. I remembered her soft cries in the curtain-filtered moonlight as I pleasured her first with fingers, then with lips. I remembered the expression of uncertainty battling with desire as I readied myself at her sacred portal, her low moan as I began to enter her body, her soft squeal of pain as I turned the girl I had long known and loved into a woman.

…into my woman.

Justine had once asked how we could have re-enacted that moment in my fantasy world if I could have had complete control over the situation. After a little thought, I had confessed that if I had known then what I had learned in the interim, I would have wanted her blindfolded, bound to the bed, and naked, completely vulnerable, completely on display for me when I entered her and made love to her for the very first time.

My fantasy was upon the bed: blindfolded, bound to the bed, and naked, completely vulnerable, completely on display for me when I would enter her for the very first time.

But while my fantasy lay before me, completely oblivious to the fact that I was in the guest bedroom with her, I was torn. It appeared that my wife truly wanted me to enjoy this most unexpected birthday gift, yet from the way I had been raised, I could not envision myself enjoying the charms of any other woman.

Slowly, I paced the guest bedroom, my mind ablaze with thought, considering the consequences and the pleasures of going forward and indulging – quite literally – in my fantasy. My eyes kept returning to her, admiring her graceful curves, her apparent youth, her calm composure…

My birthday twin was almost completely still upon the bed, making no movement whatsoever other than the gentle rise and fall of her breasts and the occasional flexing of her arms and legs to maintain circulation. It would have been nice if she would have at least struggled for me, just like Justine would struggle for me whether I was whipping her or not.

Interestingly, my wife had not set out any of the floggers or the cane or the crops or the slappers or any of the other implements for granting pain, nor had she set out any of the bullets or vibrators or dildos or beads or other tools for granting pleasure. Certainly, I knew where all those items were hidden, kept well away from prying eyes should someone come for an unexpected visit, but since they were not in plain sight, likely I was not intended to hurt her – I was to keep my sadistic side at bay and only allow my romantic side to grace this young, willing stranger.

…nor was I to pleasure her with anything not already physically attached to me.

Yet, if she was truly my fantasy become reality, I would hurt her unavoidably as – fittingly, on her eighteenth birthday – I would be transforming her from a girl into a woman.

I noticed her clothes on the floor in a folded pile in the corner, with her purse and her wallet beside them. Some sort of laminated card was atop her bra, and curiosity sent my feet in that direction. The card was her driving license, which proved that it was indeed the eighteenth birthday of Sandra Scott: female, hazel eyes, brown hair, eighty-five pounds, four feet nine inches tall. She was certainly one of the lucky few, in that the picture on her license – displaying her natural brown hair – was actually quite favorable to her.

I looked at my fantasy once again, still torn between dipping Keçiören Escort into her and remaining faithful to my beautiful, loving, understanding wife. Then as Sandra finally began to pull a little at her bonds, my decision became that much harder.

The sound of the door opening startled me from my thoughts. Justine opened the door just enough to thrust her head into the guest bedroom and survey the situation. “I thought so,” she said to herself, then turned her eyes toward me.

Before I realized what was happening, Justine was standing before me, her arms wrapped around me as she pressed herself fully against me. Even though Sandra had no idea that others were in the room with her, it felt very strange to embrace my wife in the presence of a complete stranger in our own home. Yet the presence of the naked and bound Sandra made the kiss a little more arousing.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Justine commented.

“She is,” I agreed, “but she doesn’t hold a candle to you.”

My wife giggled softly, burying her face in my chest for a moment before looking up at me with sparkling, loving eyes. “You’re having trouble justifying this aren’t you?”

She knew me much too well. Then again, she knew me far better than anyone else on the planet.

I simply nodded, my mind still torn. She kissed me again, her fingers pressing into that one sensitive place upon my lower spine.

As one, we turned to look at Sandra. The bound beauty had calmed again, completely still upon the bed.

Justine slipped a hand between us, groping me through my slacks. In mere seconds, I had almost completely forgotten about the bound beauty upon the bed, losing myself in my wife’s firm touches and yielding mouth. Between her work upon my manhood and the way her long fingernails scratched along my spine, I was quickly giving in to the opportunities before me. When my hands gravitated to her head and pulled handfulls of her lavender hair to force an erotic hiss to surge from between her clenched teeth, we both knew that I would definitely indulge in my early birthday present.

But first, I wanted to indulge in her. Justine sensed that, and gently nudged me away. “Not now,” she chided me playfully. “Your fantasy awaits you. Take your pleasure from her, not from me.” Then, with a sexy wink and a sultry, promising voice, she added, “I can wait until tonight.”

I reached out to my wife, stroking her cheek and extracting a sweet smile. Her eyes sparkled with promise and with love, and I knew that she was looking forward to watching me indulge in my fantasy.

Slowly, I approached the bed, and settled my weight beside the bound beauty. Sandra whimpered softly, seductively, licking her lips, turning her head toward me even though she clearly could not see me. I reached to caress her cheek, and she turned her head and kissed the palm of my hand, a fairly straightforward act for someone who had never previously met me… nor had she even seen me. Glancing across the room, I noted that Justine leaned against a wall with her arms crossed under her breasts and a satisfied smile upon her lips. Go on, she mouthed to me.

On I went, slowly drawing my hand down to her chin, then curling my fingertips inward to scratch her gently as my hand moved along her dainty throat. The scratches seemed to particularly arouse the young woman, her whimper turning into a low growl. As Sandra tipped her head back to expose more of her throat to me, the act reminded me of a cat content at being scratched behind the ears.

For a long time, I simply touched her, marveling at the soft sounds emanating from the young woman, enthralled by how she began to writhe in a manner which was seductive and also attempted to maintain maximum contact with my hands. I wondered what her hazel eyes would look like if she was not wearing the Kızılay Escort blindfold – would they be clouded over with growing lust, or would they we watching me intently… or were her eyelids even open at all?

Long before my hands reached the base of her torso, Sandra’s sex was indeed moist, her arousal seeping from her, her natural musk wafting throughout the guest bedroom. Slowly, I slithered a finger between her feminine folds, extracting both wetness and moan from her as the single digit moved tantalizingly up to her clitoris. The teenager shuddered repeatedly as I gently stroked her sensitive nub, her breath catching audibly as she pulled against the restraints. I smiled to myself as I brought the finger back downward again, seeking her warm wet passage, drawing out more of her nectar and returning to her clitoris, repeating the process for quite some time, slowly and calculatingly heightening Sandra’s pleasure until at last she succumbed with the primal sound of a tigress in heat.

Her climax had intensified my own arousal. My own sex was long and hard, throbbing with need, aching to find its way inside her. My own primal passions ignited, I stood and quickly began to undress, not at all surprised when my loving wife stepped forward and helped me in shedding my clothes.

Seemingly in the duration of a single heartbeat, I was fully naked.

Seemingly one heartbeat later, I was poised above this precious gift, about to take her most precious gift from her.

Seemingly another heartbeat later, her gift was shattered, her body flexing around my full solid length, her cry sweetly resonating in my ears, her blood spilled by and for me.

There is no point mincing words: I used her. I took my pleasure from her, rutting into her like a crazed animal, like a wild tiger claiming his mate. I fucked her, hard and fast, my hands pushing her shoulders deep into the mattress in an unconscious display that she was mine to do with as I pleased. Yet she clearly loved this situation, and perhaps even craved it, for her body rose to meet my every violent thrust, and her voice called to me with a desperation heard only by someone trying not to drown in a turbulent sea.

She drowned in her pleasure, her mouth open in a silent scream as her body milked me. Her pleasure triggering mine, I bellowed for us both, the conquest complete, the need sated, and fell hard upon her, shuddering uncontrollably for what seemed like a short eternity as I felt Justine sit beside us upon the bed and gently scratch my back, directly down my sweat-covered spine, clearly wishing to arouse me again.

It worked, for I began to slowly lengthen anew within the bound Sandra. She moaned softly as she felt me deepen my invasion of her vulnerable body. I took her head in my hands and my lips found hers, kissing her deeply, as if I had known her intimately for years and not minutes.

“Take her again and again,” Justine whispered into my ear, stroking the back of my head. “Use her. Enjoy your gift to the fullest. She’s all yours…”


It was somewhat sad to see Sandra pull out of the driveway as the sun set. I stood at the doorway with my wonderful wife, an arm around her waist as we waved to Sandra just before the Eclipse made its way down the street. When we could no longer see the taillights, we stepped back into the house as one, closing the door behind us.

“You really seemed to enjoy your birthday gift,” Justine noted with a smile, her sparkling eyes reflected in her voice, “and it was great to watch you indulge yourself in her again and again.”

I pulled my wife close for a long, heartfelt hug. “Your love and your selflessness are the best gifts I’ve received today,” I whispered. “I don’t know of anyone else who would be willing to do what you did for me. Thank you, hon.”

I felt Justine’s lips curl into a smile against my neck. “I may not be a virgin anymore, but if you’re up to it, you can definitely tie me to the bedposts and take your pleasure from me…”

I took a moment to consider that. “I’m still actually a little sore from the afternoon with Sandra, but maybe after I’ve flogged you for a while…”

She giggled like an eighteen-year-old virgin as she kissed my neck.

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