The real-life adventures of a girl who is willing to try just about anything.

surprise

Valentine’s surprises

Yes, I know Valentine’s Day was a few weeks ago, but I’ve been running a bit behind on things. I’m looking to get that resolved this week. So without further ado, let me tell you about all that my VDay had in store for me.

As a general rule, VDay isn’t usually a big deal for us. We aren’t a couple who buys a lot of gifts for each other because we’re not really into material things. We also don’t wait for one day a year to make each other feel special; we try to do that as often as possible for no reason other than to express how much we mean to each other. That’s not to say we absolutely don’t celebrate it. One year we went out to a nice, romantic dinner at a pricey fondue restaurant. The following year, after a casual mention of the fact that the B-52’s (one of my favorite bands) were coming to town, he surprised me with tickets to see them. I don’t remember at all what we did last year, although I think he probably made dinner for me.
This year I woke up not even realizing that it was VDay. I went along with my usual routine of getting out of bed and heading directly to the shower without giving it a single thought. When I was out of the shower and getting dressed, I’d bent over to pick up my shoes. He snuck up behind me, delivered several stinging smacks to my ass, and said “Happy Valentine’s Day, schmoopie!” (Yes, that’s what he really calls me and it makes me want to giggle with glee. I call him Big Poppa. hehe) At the time, that’s all I thought the day was going to entail. I got dressed, had my breakfast, and went to work.

For most of the day at work, I chatted online with my friend Luscious (no, that’s not her real name). She was going through some difficult times at home and needed a shoulder to cry on. I invited her to come over after I got home from work, which she insistently declined although I repeatedly offered. She said that she didn’t want to intrude upon our romantic evening. I assured her that there were no special plans to no avail. When I emailed Roland to verify that  he did not have any special plans and to see if he minded company, he replied cryptically. Something to the effect that if there were plans, having company wouldn’t necessarily affect them, he would just need to know as soon as possible. I was a bit surprised. At any rate, it didn’t matter because she said no.

Even though I had to work late, I still got home from work a little bit earlier than had been anticipated. As a result, I caught Roland in the middle of making dinner. He was making my favorite recipe, Publix Apron’s Party Chicken, along with some rice and broccoli (my favorite veggie). He poured me a glass of my favorite wine, Barefoot Moscato, while I waited for dinner to be ready. Once it was done, he and I sat at the table and enjoyed our meal together, discussing the day’s events. We finished dinner and went to our usual post-dinner stations: our computer desks (which are corner desks set up adjacent on one side, so we were next to each other).

After a bit, I had to go to the restroom. Upon entering our restroom I let out a loud squeal of delight as I discovered the gift he had left for me, a Winnie-the-Pooh Pillow Pet. I know he put it there because usually when I come home from work I have to pee and immediately go to the bathroom after our hello kisses. However, on this day I’d been home two hours before I had to go. I returned to my desk, snuggling Pooh and giggling like a little girl. He had a big smile on his face to see it. I cuddled Pooh for the rest of the night but what I didn’t know was that there were many more surprises yet to come!

It’s a pillow! It’s a Pooh! It’s a Pillow Pooh!

Tuesday is our day to catch up on The Walking Dead, so we went upstairs to the loft to watch with me still clinging tightly to Pooh. Since it’s only an hour-long show, usually after that we’ll watch a movie or go back downstairs to our computers, but it was starting to get late and we were tired. So we turned everything off and headed to the bedroom.

I went into the bathroom to complete my before-bed bathroom routine. Sometimes that can be a lengthy process, if Roland is already asleep and all I will be doing is going to bed and sleeping afterward. But with it being VDay, I was at least hoping to get some sex. So I made rather quick work of it. When I opened the bathroom door and stepped out into our bedroom, Roland had laid out on the end of the bed a small array of toys from my toybag: a paddle, 2 floggers, and a riding crop. I felt weak with excitement at the sight. And instantly wet. I looked up at him and smiled.

Without a word he undressed me and turned me around to face the wall. I folded my arms in front of my chest for support and leaned against it. My pussy quivered with anticipation. He did not keep me waiting but for a moment before he used the lightest flogger to begin lashing my back. It felt like soft caresses on my skin. It was a purple and black leather flogger with soft buckskin tails about 18″ long. He started off slowly, not having much confidence as he had never flogged me before. Although slow and methodical, he found his rhythm after only a few swings. My slightly nervous tension evaporated and I melted against the wall.

The buckskin flogger is really only heavy enough for a warm-up and he felt it. He laid it back on the bed and picked up the heavier black suede leather flogger with tails a few inches shorter. He tried a few test swings into the palm of his hand to get a feel for it and then took it to my back. This one is a good mix between between thuddy and stingy and I liked it a lot. With each hit, I felt the heat spread across my back and shoulders. For a complete novice, he was really doing a very nice job and I rewarded him with happy sighs and moans.

He had sufficiently worked my back so that he was ready to move on to his area of growing expertise, my ass. Still using the flogger he whipped across my cheeks from side to side. He changed directions and lashed from top to bottom with criss-crossed motions. He swung from underneath to get my undercheeks. Then he put the flogger aside and switched to the leather paddle with star-shaped cutouts, each smack harder than the last.

I was lost in the growing fire of my cheeks, which was getting painful enough that tears were gathering in the corners of my eyes. Next he decided to change to the crop, to give specific attention to my most tender spots.  My whimpers grew more urgent with each stinging contact. Throwing the crop to the side he started using his bare hand, the heaviest tool of them all. Each time he hit me, he gave a little grab and dragged his fingertips to increase the flames. I was so wet I felt it dripping from between my legs.

Either he sensed the wetness or could no longer restrain himself because he beating stopped and I heard his zipper. Before I even had the chance to gasp, his cock was rammed into my pussy. I was soaked and therefore there was no resistance and only the barest hint of friction. He pounded into me so hard that my face was banged against the wall. I could not contain my cries of pleasure.

I felt his hand in my hair at the nape of my neck. As soon as he curled his fingers and had a tight grasp, he used his grip to swing me around so that I was bent over the bed. My face was smothered in the bunched-up comforter at the foot of the bed and the discarded, now-forgotten toys pressed into my chest as he shoved his cock as deep as it could go. His heavy balls swung to throw more weight into each thrust.

Still not satisfied with our situation, he pulled back and stood me up. I have no idea when or how, but he had managed to lose all of his clothes by this point, save for his socks. He slid those off his feet and grabbed my hand. He led me to the back door of our bedroom, which leads out to the deck. My pulse quickened because there is not much that I enjoy more than being fucked outside. I just can’t decide if I enjoy it most in the warm, sunshiny daylight or the cool quiet of the night. Once we got outside, he did not stop but instead pulled me toward the steps leading down into the back yard. Again my excitement stepped up a notch because I imagined lying down in the ferns. He also did not stop once we got to the yard and continued to pull me further along until we reached the driveway. I thought my heart was going to explode.

We are the last house on our street and the road essentially dead ends in our driveway at the foot of a hill. This is where he parks his 1995 Ford Mustang. At the top of the hill is a streetlight that spills illumination down onto his car. He finally pushes me up against his trunk and forces me to bend over. We are in full view if our neighbors should decide to look out any of their side windows or if a stray car should make a wrong turn and venture down our street. Holding my upper body against the car, he did not waste any time shoving his rock-hard cock into my throbbing pussy.

After all of the buildup to get to this point, unfortunately he was not able to last for very much longer. Because we were trying to keep my pussy as fresh as possible for the upcoming epic weekend (a story to be told in a near future post), we had agreed that he would not be filling my cunt until after our trip. He jerked himself out of me, pointed his pulsing member at his car tire, and groaned as his body was overcome by a shudder while he began to shoot his load. Not wanting to waste his precious cum which I rarely get to swallow, I dropped down to my knees to catch it in my mouth. I sucked and swallowed every drop until there was none left to give.
When as I struggled to stand back up my legs were weak and rubbery beneath me, threatening to give out, so I kind of just collapsed my weight on the car for a moment.

Knowing I would need a bit of assistance, he came to me, gave me his arm to lean on, and escorted me back up the stairs to our bedroom. He closed the back door behind us and led me to the bed. I reclined on the bed, expecting that I would be able to rest and catch my breath. Much to my surprise he was still sporting an enormous erection. He is not one to be so eager for another go so quickly. We’d really had no downtime yet. He stood at the edge of the bed, spread my legs taking one on each side of his hips and entered me again.

This time was slower, more relaxed. He fucked me less urgently, taking time to alternately caress my face, fondle my breasts, suck on my nipples, and look into my eyes. For the first time since our playtime began, he gave me a long, sensual kiss. I moved further back so that he could climb onto the bed and on top of me. With him above me, I wrapped my legs around his waist and matched the rhythm of his thrusts by lifting my hips toward him. His face flushed bright red and I knew he was ready to cum again. He slid out of me and spewed hot cum onto my belly. Then he flopped down onto the bed next to me while I snagged a washcloth from the bedside nightstand to clean up.

After I tossed the used washcloth to the side, I rolled onto my side to face him. I was blown away to discover that his cock was still standing at attention. When I remarked on it and asked if he was still not done, he replied, “I guess not. Do you think you can handle any more?” I responded with a huge grin and got on all fours. That was the only answer he needed. He crawled around and kneeled behind me, pushing his cock once more into my aching cunt. Only a few minutes passed before I felt his body stiffen and he pulled out to shoot even more cum across my entire back. He leaned to grab the discarded washcloth and wiped it away before catching himself. “Damn, I should have taken a picture. You should have seen the way my jizz contrasted against the red of your back.”

That was enough to make him feel the need to plunge his cock into my cunt again, in hopes to recreate the shot. My whole body was shaking by then, and I have no idea how I was able to still able to hold myself up. I hate to admit the poor shape I am in, and while I have no complaints about his stamina or the length or frequency of our usual sessions, I was absolutely not used to fucking this long almost nonstop. Usually we go for anywhere from quickies lasting 15 minutes to longer bouts of 30-45 minutes. Not including the half hour of beatings, we’d been at it for at least an hour and a half. Yet he still wasn’t done!

At the exact moment that I was going to beg for mercy because I didn’t think I could take any more, he pulled back just enough that his cock was out of my snatch and rested it up against the crack of my ass, like a hot dog in a bun. His final load spilled out of his tip and ran down my cheeks. He wiped it away, leaving a slightly sticky feeling to my entire tender backside.

My poor old hips were locked from being held in this position for too long, which was the biggest agony of all. He gingerly rolled me off my knees and flipped me over to my back. Once on my back he had to grab my ankles one by one and pull each sharply to straighten my legs. Flat on my back at last, every part of my body felt twitchy and achy but the only thing I could complain about was the receding pain of my hips. I had not felt so sated in a long, long time. And I hadn’t even had a single orgasm the whole night. Honestly, I didn’t need one and I think it would’ve just been too much.

He could see that I could barely hold my eyes open by this time. I was wiped and completely blissed-out. He leaned over me and kissed me sweetly. “And I bet you thought that Pooh was going to be your biggest surprise tonight. Happy Valentine’s Day, schmoopie. I love you.” I was able to mumble out, “I love you, too, Big Poppa,” and with that, I was done. (However, he had not finished yet. He still managed to masturbate to one more orgasm after I’d passed out.)

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