Sex Diary, Sex with Strangers, Wild Sex

A Unhappy Birthday Sex

I went to bed the night before my birthday with the intention of turning over a brand new leaf the following day. After all I thought, I would be turning 30 years old. Laying there next to my sleeping husband I gave myself a silent, yet stern talking to “I am a 30 year old wife and mother of a two year old child. Time to grow up. Time to put last weeks indiscretion behind me once and for all and completely forget about it.”

Soothing myself with this strict teacher/naughty child internal lecture I continued “It was sheer foolishness. A pathetic premature mid-life-crisis-seven-year-itch type thingy. But it’s over and nobody will ever find out.” I went to sleep that night in self satisfied contentment, thinking that my 30thbirthday would magically transform my life overnight into one that was (at least) contented.

 

Leave it to my husband to piss all over my best intentions.

 

The alarm rudely woke me up at 4:30am and my husband grappled his way out of the bed and started rifling through the draw of t-shirts that I had carefully folded the day before. “Are you going to the gym today?” I said pathetically, remembering bygone birthdays where he’d kiss me awake, whereupon we’d make love…and then make pancakes.”No, I’m just getting dressed at 4am for the sheer fun of it” he snapped nastily. There is no talking to him when he’s like this, so I hid under the covers and pretended to fall asleep. Even with my eyes shut the tears still managed to escape from between my closed eyelids. The door slammed shut causing the child to wake, resulting in me having to pull my shit together.

 

Thankfully, the child went back to sleep leaving me to languish in my fantasy land. This is the magical land where my lover and I don’t have husbands or wives that bind us and where we are happy, living in an ecstatic state of love, light and laughter. “I wonder if I will see or hear from him today” excited at the very thought of receiving a mere text message (God, I am pathetic)

 

At 8am, I had completely given up hope that my husband was really out getting me some kind of birthday surprise for me and I got the child ready for daycare and myself ready for work. The lover works in my building, so I like to look nice for the office – though in the process I have attracted some unwanted attention from 19 year old mail room assistant and 54 year old CFO – but it’s worth it to see the desire in my lover’s eye when he looks at me and to feel his cock go hard against my thigh when we embrace in the elevator.

 

But that is finished with now. It’s over. I must keep reminding myself of that.

 

930 am I arrive at the office and the time ticks by.

 

11am No lover at the office today. Don’t know where he is : (

 

3pm No word from husband or lover all day. Just great.

 

4pm Find out that lover was called away to New York for a last minute meeting with venture capitalists. Boo.

 

430pm Finally, I get a text. “Happy Birthday. Look under my desk. I have something for you. Be discreet. I miss you xxx”

 

I casually wander over to his desk and find a brightly coloured package in a Ralphs bag. I pick it up and swiftly shimmy on back to my own desk. Carefully yet quickly, I take the wrapping paper off to reveal a parcel of books. The Chronicles of Narnia. Oh my God. I barely remember myself, but when we first met months and months ago I mentioned that I loved them as a kid but my parents had given away my old 1940s copy with the silver trim away to charity when I was at college. He had gotten me the same edition! I am overwhelmed with love for this guy. So much so that I went to the bathroom and wept for the miserable situation we find ourselves in. I texted him back a simple note “Thank you so much, darling. But we have to stop this. I miss you. xxx”

 

I cried all the way to the child’s daycare, reapplying my makeup and my “happy mummy” smile before I went in to get her, as is my custom.

 

Surprisingly, husband is home early and greets me with a smile, a kiss (on my forehead…) and a ruffle of my hair. He tells me that we’re going out for dinner (with child) and that “I should get changed” (I already kinda look as nice as I can look without wearing a ballgown and tiara) I comply because he seems to be making an effort and God knows he hasn’t make an attempt at our marriage for the longest time so I am grateful and almost, well, excited as to what might happen this evening. I am filled with hope!

 

Koi is not a suitable place to bring a two year old. My husband and I end up snatching bits and pieces of strained conversation whilst trying to placate the inappropriately exuberant child. I can tell his patience is wearing thin (with my lack of parenting skills rather than with his precious angel) and he calmly yet sadistically starts making criticisms on first my abilities as a mother and then my general failings as a human being (all spliced covertly into conversations so you can’t really get him for launching a personal attack.

 

The waiter finally comes and offers dessert. Husband gives me a look that says “show some restraint” and I decline. Child sleeps in the car on the way home. Husband turns on the radio so he doesn’t have to talk to me.

 

We get home, place child in bed and then I pour us a glass of wine each. I am determined to end this day on a positive note. I will get my marriage back on track starting today if it kills me. (which it might!)

 

Husband exclaims “You’re drinking NOW? This late?!” feigning shock. “Well, it is my birthday and I only had one glass at the restaurant” I say seductively, handing him a glass and kissing him on the mouth. He ignores the kiss, but smiles and puts the glass to one side.

 

“I have something for you” he says pulling out an expensive looking bag, smiles and gesturing for me to open it.

 

Agent Provocateur. Wow. (I’m so impressed that I ignore the fact that really, when men buy women sexy underwear, they’re really just buying a gift for themselves)

 

I pull them out excitedly and admire their fabric and amazing feel. “But honey, they’re a size four! I say, somewhat confused “you know I’m a size 6”

 

“I know. He chirps sadistically”It will give you something to aspire to” “Happy Birthday darling”.

 

Sometimes I feel like my husband won’t be happy until I disappearcompletely.

 

Exhausted, I go take a shower and have my customary cry. And I take my glass of wine with me.

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