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  • Happy birthday

    • Another birthday - Shit !

    Of course as a child I loved birthdays, they were times of innocent excitement to be eagerly looked forward to: parties, friends, games, jelly and ice cream, presents, more presents, a wealth of magic and growing up.

    Even as a young man They were great times, an excuse to party through an endless round of clubs and bars, returning home with a hang over good enough to last for days.

    But now a birthday is just another grey milestone along the road towards the crematorium. Never mind one foot in the grave I am in there right up to my knees and sinking fast into the quagmire of old age.

    True I still have a head of hair but it is definitely thinner than it used to be and now it has started to show signs of silver at the sides. I can no longer excuse myself by saying I have a beer belly - I am just fat ! But above all I swear my dick is getting smaller - honestly it is - shriveling up into old age. Erections have become fewer and those I do achieve are no where near as firm and strong as those of my now distant youth. Not that there is anything these days to get it up for ! I guess everything is rapidly returning to a prepubescent stage when it was nothing more than an instrument to pee through.

    Shit I hate birthdays !

    I detest what I have become, a lonely old man with no friends and nobody to share my life with. What is the purpose of anything anymore ? Yet I simply do not have the courage to end it all.

    Shit I hate birthdays !

    I made sure that my last, the day I turned fifty-three, was lost in a post long-haul jet-lag. Even flying business class against the clock is punishing. A perfect way to celebrate the day. I landed at Heathrow in the early morning totally knackered. Off home and some stiff drinks before bed and sleeping the day away.

    Slumber was deep - it often is for me after a long flight - and this time it was full of dreams: weird dreams, my mind heavy and loaded with events. My unconscious brain fought to deal with all that was happening. When I awoke at one point I could not remember where I was, I stumbled out of bed searching for the toilet but could not find it. At last I located it and still could not remember where I was, strange I had stayed in that hotel many times and every room was set out just the same. But what was I doing there ? I hadnt been to Detroit for years, we didnt do business there any more. Strange ? A trick of my dream I supposed. But I wasnt in Detroit was I ? I was in my own home, wasnt I ?

    Returning to bed again my head felt like a lump of lead and my aging brain throbbed. At least tomorrow was Saturday and I had planned for it to pass into oblivion. Then Sunday to recover before going back to work. I would open bottle after bottle and let all pass into history and destroy my cursed birthday. Fifty-three years old, I was a young man forced to live against my will in a middle aged body. I dont believe in God or anything like that but I do believe in destiny. I cursed destiny for what I had become and for what it had delivered to me. And then I cursed myself for fifty-three years of lost opportunities.

    Let me try again, I thought, and this time I wont mess up. Give me another chance. Please.

    My sleep then passed into a time of very pleasant dreaming, quite nice after the earlier heaviness. My head was now light and I was floating along carefree and totally contented. That was better, ah so very much better. I could sleep like that for ever.

    I became aware of a beautiful hardon and reached my right hand down between my legs to savor it. Very nice, one of the best for a long time, a very long time. My fingers could feel the blood pulsing through just the way it used to be when I was younger. I lay there holding it and enjoying the moment. When I awoke I would wank and enjoy a good time, who knows when I would be able to manage to get that hard again.

    Feeling my way through that lovely experience I realised slowly that something was not quite right. Where had my middle age fat stomach gone ? In its place there was something akin to the flat smooth me of former times. Dont knock the dream, I said to myself, enjoy it until you wake up.

    Yes, I did enjoy it.

    But I did not think that I was dreaming. Yes I had been asleep but I was drifting into an early awakening. As more and more of my conscious self turned itself on I became aware that I wasnt in bed alone.

    Charges of electricity began to run up and down my spine causing every hair on my body to tingle. Somebody was in bed with me, I was NOT alone ! I searched my brain and was convinced that whoever it was he had not been there the night before.

    The body next to me stretched and reached an arm across my chest.

    "Morning Lover. Happy Birthday. How does it feel to be twenty-seven ?"

    I knew that voice ! I knew it so very well ! But it was impossible.

    "Are you awake enough for me to give you your birthday present now or shall I let you sleep a bit longer ?"

    The voice belonged to a former lover, to Carl who had so wonderfully passed through my life but that had been an age ago. I should have been confused but I determined not to let any such thoughts into my mind and instead to pleasure in what was happening before it all changed.

    "Im ready now," I said.

    "Thats what I thought," Carl said sliding a hand across my rock hard cock.


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