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 hadn’t
been to Detroit for years, we didn’t do business there any
more. Strange ? A trick of my dream I supposed.
But I wasn’t in Detroit was I ? I was in my own home,
wasn’t 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 don’t
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 won’t 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.
Don’t 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 wasn’t 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.
“I’m ready now,” I said.
“That’s what I thought,” Carl said sliding a hand
across my rock hard cock.
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