Tuesday, July 14, 2009

When sex goes wrong on his birthday

Posted By on Tue, Jul 14, 2009 at 10:16 AM

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L had big plans for her boyfriend's birthday. But you know what they say about the best laid plans.

The day started with breakfast at Landmark on Central Avenue and she said had she known what was going to happen later that day, she would've stuck to just drinking orange juice instead of getting eggs with cheese.

After breakfast, they headed to her car and it wouldn't start. She swore inwardly as he asked her to pop the hood. Time was not on their side because he had to work that evening. She needed a battery for the car, so they were able to drive down the street to Auto Zone and get a battery installed; however, it cost them an hour that she had planned to use to model the black lace teddy she had on underneath her maxi dress.

She thinks that all of this stuff happened because she wore the wrong shoes. Flats instead of the five-inch heels she'd purchased to go along with the lingerie. But it had been raining Monday morning, and she didn't want to slip and fall. L said she should've risked the fall.

After the battery was installed and the car was running properly, she headed to her house and they ended up on the sofa watching TV.

Why are we talking? She wondered as they joked about something they saw on CNN. Finally, the birthday sex began. L was happy, then she was surprised when her boyfriend grabbed the anal lube. She didn't know they were doing that today. Not that she had a problem with it, but this act usually took preparation on her part, a long bath, a day of eating food that didn't make her have to go to bathroom. She would've never eaten eggs and cheese. But it was his birthday, so she went along with flow and for the first 20 minutes, it felt really good. Then she felt something coming ... and it wasn't an orgasm. Though she knew he was about to climax himself, she knew if he poked her one more time, it was going to be really ugly. She turned around, pushed him away and ran into the bathroom.

You know what happened in the bathroom. After she'd moved her bowels, she flushed the toilet and the water didn't go down, it came up. Quickly, L turned the water off wondering who put a curse on her. After 25 minutes of using the plumber's helper, she got the water down, then she was able to clean herself up.

By this time, her boyfriend was sleep and he had to be to work in three hours. "Damn," she thought as she climbed into bed beside him. He woke up, kissed her then got out of the bed and went to the bathroom. She was glad that she'd lit a candle and averted the disaster of having brown stains of the floor.

She heard him washing up and figured that they would be able to go at it one more time before he had to go into work. Then she felt that feeling again. This isn't happening, she thought as she tried to hold back her bowels again. But as her boyfriend returned to the bedroom, she made a beeline back to the bathroom. Fifteen minutes later, she thought that everything was all good and after cleaning herself again, she headed back to the bedroom.

They were able to go at it again, but it was a quickie and not the marathon session that she had planned since circling his birthday on the calendar in with a red marker. And she was kind of ashamed.

While trying not to laugh at L while she told me this story, I thought, "I guess your boyfriend is the man because he really did fuck the shit out of you."

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