My Birthday Surprise

It was my thirtieth birthday, and my lovely husband, Ken, had arranged a special evening for me. By the way, Ken is not short of Kenneth, but Kennedy. I think they named him after an airport somewhere.

We were to go out to dinner at a restaurant. This was one of those places that when telling friends about it, you can proceed roughly as follows;

"Darling, Ken and I go to this exclusive little place in a quaint back street."

Sub-text: A grotty little dive in a smelly back alley.

"The food is exquisite, and they specialise in a venison dish."

Sub-text: Be careful what you order you might get food poisoning, and for "venison" read "deer hide."

"They have some very special wines you can hardly get elsewhere."

Sub-text: You can get it at nearly every bottle shop at a quarter the price.

"The place is candle lit and so romantic."

Sub-text: It's kept dim so you won't see the dirt and the stains on the tablecloth.

"The waiters are so attentive."

Sub-text: They look as if they're on some illegal substance and are off in outer space.

"The prices are a little high, of course, but you can expect that in these exclusive places."

Sub-text: The prices are outrageous and we only go there so I can boast to you about it.

I arrived home from work a little earlier than usual, showered, and chose the dress I was to wear for the evening. I selected one sufficiently low cut to keep Ken interested, and besides, I didn't want him straining his eyes in the candlelight trying to look at other women who might be in the restaurant. We had been married six years and still hadn't got bored with each other, but I don't believe in taking unnecessary risks.

Ken got home just as I started to dress and wanted to give me a birthday treat on the spot, but I said, "Darling, I've just had my shower, and we are due at the restaurant in half an hour." That cooled him off a bit, and he showered, dressed, and off we went.

I have said all I want to and need to say about the restaurant. If you are interested, I can say that Ken did keep his eyes on my thirty-eight Cs. He seems to have a fascination with them, which is, I suppose, rather flattering. However, my main focus is to tell you about what followed.

For some reason, Ken seemed very anxious for us to go home. I assumed that what he wanted was me in bed, and having nothing to object to in that idea, I surrendered to his slight agitation, and complied, arriving home about 10 p.m. My assumption proved correct. No sooner did we enter the house, and I was in the bedroom being disrobed.

At this point things took a turn different from the direction I had anticipated. "Sweet heart," Ken effused, "I've got something very special for you, but you must do what I tell you." Puzzled, I responded, "Okay." With this he urged me to lie down on the bed, and having got me there, produced a number of cloth strips. "What are you going to do with those?" I asked suspiciously. "Tie you down," he replied.

Now we have carried through quite a few sexual experiments, but hadn't got to the bondage aspect so far. My thought was, being my birthday Ken had decided that it was as good a time as any to launch into this phase. Nothing daunted, and always ready for a new experience, especially lascivious experience, I let him tie me down.

Having secured me gently but firmly he took off his clothes and got beside me. "All very normal apart from the bondage," I thought, "What next?"

Next came the usual foreplay of kissing, breast fondling, nipple sucking and the usual culmination of oral sex with him licking my clitoris. All very nice and acceptable, but still nothing unusual apart from the bondage. But I had underestimated Ken and the situation.

Having got me well and truly going, Ken got off the bed and said, "I think you're good and ready. Be back in a moment," and left the room. "What the hell is he up to? I thought. Has he bought me a new vibrator or dildo or some other sex toy?" I didn't have long to wait.

Ken reentered the room trailing behind him a man. "This is Stanley," he said, smiling. I didn't care who he was. I was shocked and horrified, and started my protests. "Ken, what the bloody hell do you think you're doing, bringing a man, and a stranger, in here with me naked. Get him out and me untied."

"Calm down, love," Ken responded, "Stanley is your special surprise." Well, he was right about one thing, Stanley was a surprise. I looked at the said Stanley and saw a man about forty, on the short side and balding. He said nothing, just stood there smiling.

"Ken," I howled, "How can you let your wife be seen naked like this. Will you get that man out of here and untie me. If you don't I'll scream the place down." This I knew was a vain threat, because there was no one near enough to our place to hear. In any case, Ken just continued, addressing Stanley. "Okay Stan, she's all yours."

Stanley began to strip and I continued to yell my protestations. "Stop this at once, Ken. This is disgusting. If you don't stop it our marriage is at an end." And so I went on yelling and struggling to free myself, totally ignored by Ken and Stanley.

By now, Stanley was naked, and looking at him a wave of horror washed over me. Erect before me was a giant penis. When having sex with Ken we had fantasised about such monsters, but never in my wildest dreams had I imagined something like this. As for measurements, I have no idea, and I think "Enormous" covers the case.

"Darling," Ken said soothingly, "do stop making such a noise or you'll upset Stanley. I don't want to have to gag you." I could hardly believe what I was hearing, and redoubled my screaming protests. "You bastard, what are you doing to me." As good as his word, Ken gagged me.

Stanley approached the bed, and it was then that I realised fully what was about to happen. I had thought this might be some exhibition that Ken thought funny, but no, he was going to let this man fuck me.

Through the gag I tried to beg and plead, knowing what agony awaited me if this man tried to enter me. My own husband was causing me to be raped, or commit adultery, or whatever it was.

Stanley positioned himself with the head of his penis close to my entrance. He had not said one word all this time, and still silent he smiled down at me. I felt Ken's hands pull open the lips of my vagina, and he whispered, "Relax, darling." "Relax!"

I had murder on my mind.

I felt the penis head push against my opening. Stanley took hold of my hips and pushed. He was very strong, but for a moment my vagina resisted, then he burst through. I felt as if I was being rent in two. Through the gag I screamed and screamed, while Ken stroked my face and made comforting noises.

Stanley continued to push into me, coming to a stop at the top of my vagina. The halt was only momentary. He gave one mighty heave, I experience pain as never before in my life, and he broke through into my depths. He rested for a few moments, then began moving himself up and down in me. It did not last too long. I had managed to partially get the gag out of my mouth and shrieked, "You bastard, you're making me come."

It hit me like a sledgehammer smashing me into a shrieking, howling, cursing climax. The pain and ecstasy was unbelievable and unbearable. I begged for mercy, but he had none. He went on until he began to erupt into me – great globs of sperm that squeezed between the walls of my vagina and his penis, and flowed out and down over my anus.

As he slackened within me he started to withdraw, and the pain was the worst yet as he finally came out of me. Still silent and smiling he got off the bed, redressed, and then he and Ken left the room. I lay on the bed exhausted, soaked with sweat, sperm, my lubricant and blood. I had come back from hell.

A smiling Ken came back into the room and started to take off the gag and untie me. I struggled to sit up on the bed, and put my arms round Ken's neck and said, "Darling, what a wonderful birthday surprise. Do you think you…we…could…"

"It's all right, sweet heart," he murmured lovingly, "He's pretty expensive, but I've booked him for our wedding anniversary."

After showering, Ken got his reward, but somehow it wasn't quite the same.

Oh well, only three months to the wedding anniversary.