Thank you for all of your suggestions concerning my post from yesterday. Some of them were inspirational, all were entertaining. Here, as promised, is my report.
One thing you should know is that my S/O met me after I was out of the trade. He obviously knows about it but considers that part of my life to be ancient history. Which it is.
When he came home from work, dinner was waiting for him in front of the TV. I know, I know, but it IS the playoffs and it was HIS birthday. After my fabulous roast chicken and a glass of wine, we settled in to watch the game as the players took turns beating the hell out of the other. I am NOT a sports fan and my boy gets annoyed when I accidently cheer for the wrong team or bother him when he's watching but he didn't seem to mind when I began to gently massage his thigh. I noticed a little bit of tenting going on and considered taking Tianna's advice (from Perb) to deep throat him right then and there but chose to let him simmer on the couch instead. Besides, if Vancouver scored a goal, I'd face the very real possibility of him jumping up and inadvertantly jamming his penis out my ear.
The game ended and the right team won so now it was time for birthday cake. I'm not about to get into private details here but I will tell you that he did enjoy it when some of the icing ended up in places other than his plate. That damned icing gets everywhere! We did our best to clean each other up but somehow, while I was licking him clean, he made another mess, a different mess, and a bubble bath was in order.
It was a long day followed by an even longer night. The strap-on did not make an appearance, nor did the walk on the beach. I'll leave that for another time. A great thing about birthdays is that they come again and again. Kind of like my guy last night.
One thing you should know is that my S/O met me after I was out of the trade. He obviously knows about it but considers that part of my life to be ancient history. Which it is.
When he came home from work, dinner was waiting for him in front of the TV. I know, I know, but it IS the playoffs and it was HIS birthday. After my fabulous roast chicken and a glass of wine, we settled in to watch the game as the players took turns beating the hell out of the other. I am NOT a sports fan and my boy gets annoyed when I accidently cheer for the wrong team or bother him when he's watching but he didn't seem to mind when I began to gently massage his thigh. I noticed a little bit of tenting going on and considered taking Tianna's advice (from Perb) to deep throat him right then and there but chose to let him simmer on the couch instead. Besides, if Vancouver scored a goal, I'd face the very real possibility of him jumping up and inadvertantly jamming his penis out my ear.
The game ended and the right team won so now it was time for birthday cake. I'm not about to get into private details here but I will tell you that he did enjoy it when some of the icing ended up in places other than his plate. That damned icing gets everywhere! We did our best to clean each other up but somehow, while I was licking him clean, he made another mess, a different mess, and a bubble bath was in order.
It was a long day followed by an even longer night. The strap-on did not make an appearance, nor did the walk on the beach. I'll leave that for another time. A great thing about birthdays is that they come again and again. Kind of like my guy last night.
