30th Birthday Madness: so Far No One Has Perished during the Celebrations, but We Haven't Shot Guns Yet

Last night, I came home and found Red Beard lying on the couch. I straddled him and held his face in my hands as I kissed him and wished him a happy birthday. Then I pulled his gift, wrapped in shiny, silver paper, out from its hiding place. Red Beard opened the box and did the requisite oohing and aahing, which I appreciated. He’d been looking for a nice watch for about as long as I’d known him, so I figured I could end his search with this beauty.

I think he feels I’ve spent too much money on him, between birthday dinners, the watch, and our gun-toting outing at the firing range tomorrow night – but I keep reminding him that 30 is a big birthday. I’m guessing he might be feeling some of the pressure to spend a wad on me too, since my birthday is coming up. He suggested we take a weekend at a B&B in the country where we can hit up some wine tours. That sounds absolutely perfect to me, but I have no clue what such a trip costs. I should probably find out.

Once we were through with the gift fanfare, we moved our new blue fighting fish from a smaller bowl into a giant, 5-gallon vase. Thaddeus looks so little in there, but I bet he’s happy to have more space to explore. He’s much more active than his lazy predecessor, Meatball, who was more content to lie on the bottom and play dead for the duration of his life before he became dead for real.

After our weekend of nice dinners and partying, Red Beard opted for a low-key birthday dinner, which I appreciated. We high-tailed it over to Pizza Hut for some root beers for him, big boy beers for me, and of course, a pizza. We had to save room for the lemon meringue pie waiting for us at home, so we didn’t go too overboard with the pizza.

We sat on the couch in front of the coffee table to eat the lemon meringue. The pie was tasty, although my meringue shrunk up to nothing. Damn you, meringue. So delicious, yet so perplexing.

Then we ducked into the boudoir, wiggled under the covers and popped in a DVD. We watched an episode of The Venture Bros., which might just be the funniest, most bizarre show on television.

Somewhere near the end of the episode, I had my hands in Red Beard’s pants and he had his hands on my funbags. As the credits rolled, Red Beard shut off the TV and the light. I gave him oral pleasure as a supplement to his birthday gift, then I mounted him. What can I say, I’m a generous girl.

As I leaned forward and rested my bazooms on his chest, he put his hands on my shoulders and pushed me down further onto his unit. It was, I must say, a heavenly experience. When I began to tire out, he prompted me to slide off of him and get on my hands and knees. Then he entered me from behind. (I'm starting to think doggie style might be my favorite position. But don't hold me to it.) As he got closer to climaxing, he flipped me onto my back for the grand finale, which was nothing short of spectacular. Sometimes the boy puts the Macy's fireworks display to shame.

It was a first-rate birthday experience for both of us. Now for guns! Yeehaw!

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