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Birthday Presents

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*Author's note: Two quick things. I write mostly May-December romance stories in the 'mature' category. Readers often tell me via email they appreciate my well-developed characters. One recently said, "I'm so tired of the typical stories here that go like this: 'Hey, there's a pizza. Wanna fuck?" That's not me. I don't do three-pages stories. Outside of hook ups, real people don't have sex, fall in love, and get married without good reasons. Nor do they get involved in threesomes or involve other people—especially of other races—on a whim. Developing those reasons and the people behind them takes time. So...please be patient. :-)

Second, this story is based loosely on my ex-wife. I shared our actual story in Making Changes. Over time, she became a lifestyle submissive. Initially, it was fun. She'd do anything I asked and I mean anything. Okay, she wanted to be told or ordered, but you get my drift. After a while, it became a huge pain in the...um...burden, because I'm not a 'top' or dom. When I stopped playing, she needed a real master and I moved on to other things which I've shared in several other stories.

Bottom line is we did the things in this story and a whole lot more, but they weren't much fun because there was no resistance and I like resistance. With extremely rare exceptions, normal married women just don't say to some new, wild idea their husband proposes, "Oh, sure. Let's do that. In fact, how about tonight?" Some tiny percent will eventually agree, but it has to be a very small number. The ones who'll agree to do it again, have to be very, very few in number. But they are out there.

One of my biggest fantasies is a 'normal', attractive wife who would eventually say 'yes' to the theme of this story. I'm into a whole other lifestyle now so this isn't possible for me, but when I look back and dream, this is perhaps my favorite fantasy. Well, one of them anyway.

This isn't a cuckold tale. It is a fetish story, but it also interracial, and although it is unlikely, it is most definitely possible and has undoubtedly been done many times over the course of human history.

******

"Good morning," she said happily as he waited for her.

Every day began the same way. He got up first and made coffee then waited for her to join them once it was brewed. He handed her a cup and kissed and told her how much he loved her. Sometimes, he had even more to say and today was one of those days. Today, he set the cup down and held her after the kiss and she held him back. He stroked her long, soft hair and said, "Every day I feel like I'm the luckiest person alive."

She squeezed him tight and said, "No, that's me. I have the most wonderful, amazing, handsome young husband in the world and he's in love with me. Sometimes it feels like I'm living in a dream. The most wonderful, romantic dream anyone could ever have."

She was just over six years older than him and she really did think he was the most handsome man she'd ever known while he honestly believed she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. There was no show or exaggeration in their words. Both of them deeply believed what they said and wanted the other person to know how they felt every day. Granted, they'd only been married six months and known one another a year, but they were already each other's life.

His wife, Hallie Miller, (formerly Thomas) had recently turned 30 and just two years ago was still legally married to her high school sweetheart, Elwood Thomas. His unusual name aside, they were the classic most-likely couple in their high school. He'd been the football team's quarterback and the Homecoming King while she was the pretty cheerleader and Homecoming Queen. Nothing had seemed more right than a small family wedding right after graduation. Why should they wait to start their lives together when both of them knew their love was real and would last forever?

For the first few years, they were mostly happy even though finding work had been very hard for the former athlete. He worked construction and often sporadically at best, yet he insisted she stay home and let him care for her. That was fine except that work was scarce which meant money was, too. Unfortunately, the less he worked, the more he drank and the more he drank, the less he worked.

At around the five-year point, he became gradually more and more depressed and began drinking even more. When she told him she was going to work—just part time to help out—he'd flown off the handle and called her a whore. For the next four-plus years, he called her that many times along with words that were far more hurtful. She knew she should leave, but for some reason, she couldn't. She still loved him or whatever shell was left of the man she'd once loved. So she stayed and hoped against hope things might change.

He'd gained a lot of weight even though he now ate very little, and his personal hygiene was neglected more and more as time went on. She'd told in no uncertain terms to sleep on the couch two years before she finally got up the nerve to leave because the stench of beer and sweat was more than she could stomach.

Had she not run into an old friend one day, she might never have moved out. This friend was three years her junior, but their parents had been friends since they were kids, and when they saw each other for the first time in several years, this friend, Celeste Layton, asked how things were going.

"Oh, okay, I guess," Hallie lied not wanting to get into it.

They chatted briefly, and Celeste could tell something wasn't right. "You know I got divorced two years ago, don't you?" she asked Hallie.

"Right. Yes, I heard about that. I'm so sorry," she said truthfully.

"Thank you, but I'm not. Hallie? Sometimes leaving seems impossibly hard, but if things are bad—really bad—it becomes our only option. If they were that bad, you'd tell me, wouldn't you?" Celeste asked with deep concern.

Hallie was still gorgeous. Celeste was secretly envious that a woman three years older then her looked so much better than she did even though she was a very attractive young woman herself. Hallie had the kind of natural beauty, which, if nurtured in the slightest, would last for many, many years, and she was squandering it on a man unable to appreciate it.

It only took a few seconds for the tears to start flowing followed by a confession of just how bad things had gotten. "Come stay with me," Celeste told her. "I have an empty room and you can have it for as long as you need. But you have to get out. That's not living and you deserve better."

That week, Hallie found the courage to confront her husband who told her in so many words, "Good riddance." He'd punctuated his brief-but-intense diatribe with more hurtful words she'd tried to forget but which still lived right under the surface; words she'd allowed to define her for far too long.

She'd cried for days after leaving him and then one day, as quickly as it had begun, it stopped. It was over. She was free. Free to start a new life. Free to maybe even find real love or at least a decent guy who didn't drink and who occasionally complemented her. That didn't seem unreasonable to her and it did seem reasonable there had to be single guys her age somewhere in this big old world who could meet that very low bar. They didn't have to be Homecoming-King gorgeous. They just had to show her some appreciation and affection and well, shower regularly.

She knew she was starving for love, and the thought of just having the basics would be a dream come true. A smile, a gentle touch, a kiss, an occasional 'I love you'. None of that seemed like too much to ask for. Yes, she still thought about sex and remembered with great fondness how it had been when she was 18 or 19. That would be the proverbial icing on the cake. For now, any reasonably attractive, decent guy with a steady job would be...amazing.

She filed for divorce the following week and learned her soon-to-be-ex wouldn't contest it. Within a year, her nightmare would finally be over. It was way too soon to seriously think about finding someone permanent, but the hope she eventually might burned brightly somewhere in the back of her mind, and that hope sustained her as she began working full-time while trying to mentally and emotionally nurture herself back to life.

And that's when she met him for the first time. He was dating Celeste who'd talked about him quite often. He'd been out of town for a few days when Hallie moved in so she hadn't yet met him. Celeste told her he'd be coming over that evening and she said she'd be glad to go watch a movie or stay in her room, but Celeste insisted she meet her beau, as she called him, and Hallie agreed.

Neither of them admitted it until around the time they started dating, but both of them remembered thinking, "He/she is the most gorgeous person I've ever seen!" Hallie was shocked to learn he was just 23 years old.

Celeste was 26 and change, and the 3 1/2-year age difference drove her crazy. Hallie had just turned 29 and remembered thinking that was the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard. While she'd never really considered the possibility of falling for someone more than a couple of years either side of her own age, she knew she'd gladly date a guy that good looking in a heartbeat unless of course, he had a heart of stone—or drank like a fish. But because he was already dating her friend, she also knew that was a moot point. But were it even a possibility, she'd go out with him—or a guy like him—no questions asked.

Her self-confidence had been shattered over the years, and she couldn't begin to imagine a man that good looking even being interested in a woman her age—especially one coming out of a failed marriage. Clearly, she no longer knew just how attractive she still was.

"Hallie? This is my beau...friend, Michael Miller, who insists I call him Mike." She made a face as though doing so was...distasteful. "Mike? This is my good friend, Hallie." They smiled and shook hands with each other then talked occasionally as Mike and Celeste chatted about his most recent trip. It wasn't long before the infamous 'gap' came up.

"So I'm assuming you were the youngest person there?" Celeste asked unable to start digging.

"Don't. Okay? Not tonight." His voice didn't indicate anger but rather annoyance.

"Well, were you? It seems to me you'd pretty much have to be." She turned to Hallie and said, "Mike is 3 1/2 years younger than me. Can you believe that? He's obviously very handsome, but I just can't stop thinking about how he'll only be 26 when I turn thirty! I can't even imagine that. Can you?"

Hallie couldn't believe the way she said 'thirty' as though it was the end of life or that three years even mattered.

She looked at Mike and thought again, "I'd go out with him tomorrow if he'd ask me. Of course, he never would, but still..."

Hallie had no idea how strained things were between Mike and Celeste. The age issue was the constant burr under Mike's saddle, but there were many other trouble spots, as well. Unknown to her at the time, this latest harangue about 'the gap' was the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back.

Two days later, Mike had had all he could stand of the constant harping about something so insignificant to him and told Celeste it was over. She was shocked and hurt or at least did a very convincing job pretending she was surprised when he gave her the news.

"This age difference thing isn't a big deal, yet it's all you talk about," he told her. "It comes up every time we're together, and I've had it. You need to find someone your age or maybe older, but I'm done."

Celeste not only wasn't apologetic, she was downright indignant. "I'm sorry you can't see how much it matters to me. If you did, you'd be more understanding."

"Uh-huh. And then what? Let's say I agreed with you. Then what? How does that change anything?" He didn't wait for her reply. "Let me answer that for you. It doesn't. However, ending this relationship solves the problem! I really do hope you'll find someone old enough to make you happy, although something tells me you'll never be happy."

Celeste didn't like his final comment at all because it hit very close to home. She knew she was the kind of person who looked for reasons to complain. When she couldn't find one, she'd create one and start a fight. It didn't matter that her 'beau' was out of her league in terms of looks. She didn't care that everyone who knew them thought she was in way over head and based on the way she treated him, unlikely he'd stick around very long. They'd all been right, and Mike had had enough. He was done with her and her nonsense.

It was getting close to 10pm one night about a month later when he was out picking up some groceries just before the local store was about to close that he saw her again. More accurately, she saw him. She came up from behind her and said, "Mike? Is that you?"

He turned around and saw her then did a double take. "Hallie. Hi! It's so good to see you!"

"Hi! I can't believe you remembered me. We only talked that one time."

He started putting his items on the counter for checkout, smiled at her then said, "It only takes one time with someone as attractive as you."

His comment so surprised her Hallie was sure her face was red but hoped she hadn't blushed too deeply before quickly saying, "Celeste told me you guys broke up. I can't believe that tiny difference in age was such a big deal to her. It was only...what? A couple of years or so? That's nothing."

"Three years, six months, and two days—if I was counting," he told her drawing a laugh from Hallie. "I couldn't agree more, but she didn't see it that way. To her, it was the be-all, end-all and I got sick of hearing about it." He put his last items up, then moved the shopping cart out of the way. "Frankly...good riddance."

Hallie couldn't help but laugh as she started putting her things on the counter. "All I can say is, it's her loss. I told her I thought she was crazy."

"Oh, wow. How'd that go over with the Queen of Judgment?" he asked as he swiped his credit card.

"Oh, about like you'd expect. I got quite a tongue lashing about minding my own business and needing to be more grateful for letting me stay with her."

"Yeah, that's classic Celeste, all right. She's...poisonous. Maybe 'toxic' is the better word. All I can say is I'm so glad I finally got out."

He was finished with his groceries but didn't leave. He stood there waiting for Hallie who was already getting ready to pay for her few items. "Are you seeing anyone else yet?" she asked trying hard to sound nonchalant.

"No. Not really. And honestly? I haven't been looking. It's just been so nice to be able to relax and not have to walk on eggshells worried about any little thing upsetting someone, you know?"

"Tell me about it," Hallie said as the cashier handed her the receipt. "Sometimes I stay in my room to avoid having to talk to her. She can be very caustic." She smiled then said, "Toxic may be the perfect word. It implies she can poison the other person by virtue of her presence and in my humble opinion, that's very true."

She pushed her buggy out of the way and Mike said, "May I walk you to your car?"

"Oh! Um, sure. Most definitely in fact," she said smiling happily. "That would be very nice."

"It's starting to get chilly already," Hallie said as the night air wrapped around them.

"Yes, it is. Only nine more months until summer," he said only partly sarcastically.

"It could be ten. You just never know around here," Hallie said. "Time to break out the sweaters again until June."

"Or July?" Miller said agreeing with her previous comment.

Hallie laughed as she opened her trunk. "It's a good thing I like wearing them. If I was a shorts and tee-shirt kind of girl, I'd be hating life most of the year here."

"Here, let me get those for you," Mike said. There were only 4-5 bags and she could certainly put them in the trunk herself. Still, she smiled, stepped aside and sincerely thanked him.

"You're a really great guy, Mike," she said as he closed the trunk for her then waited to open her car door. "I think Celeste may be clinically insane if she let you go over something so trivial." Mike chuckled having wondered the same thing a few times himself.

She got inside but left the door open. "Well, it was really nice seeing you again, Mike. Maybe we'll run into each other again sometime."

"Or...we could agree to see each other again on purpose. You know, as in...a date?"

Hallie's heart immediately went into overdrive, thumping hard in her chest when his words sank in. "Oh, um...sure. That would be great! I'd like that. A lot."

"It's Thursday evening. Is Saturday too soon?" he asked with hopefulness in his voice.

"Not at all," she told him. "Saturday is perfect."

"I can pick you up around seven if that's okay."

"Um...well, if you want to risk a run-in with Celeste I suppose that would be okay. Or I could just meet you."

"Good point. But it's not me I'm concerned about. Celeste will probably wig out when she hears the news. Are you sure you're up to that?"

Her smile was nothing short of amazing. "Some things are worth the risk. You know, like...going out with you."

"You're a brave girl," he said. "Sorry...woman."

"Girl is fine. Just so you know, I'm a few years older than Celeste. I don't know if that big of an age difference matters to you, but I can assure it doesn't to me...at all. So I'd happy to be your...girl," she said not sure where the boldness came from all of a sudden.

Mike smiled back and said, "That has a very nice sound to it. At least to me."

"I think I could get used to it, too," she said sweetly. "So...I'll see you at seven then?"

"I'll be there," he told her as he closed her door.

He waited for her to drive off, waving as she did. She smiled as she waved and Miller headed to his own car thinking, "Damn. I don't care how old she is, that girl is gorgeous!"

Luck was on his side as Miller pulled into Celeste's driveway two days later. Her Buick wasn't there meaning she was also gone. He turned off the engine then walked up to the porch and rang the doorbell.

He heard the unmistakable sound of heels clicking on hardwood just before the deadbolt was flipped.

"Hi, Mike! Please come in!" Hallie said.

He tried not to stare but failed miserably. "My apologies," he said when he knew she'd caught him staring at her boobs. It wasn't exactly staring, it was more of a glance that lasted too long.

"For what?" she asked. "You're not late so..."

"Oh, I thought you saw me staring," he said essentially fessing up.

"At?" she asked still confused.

"Well, at...you. If you really didn't notice then I apologize for confessing needlessly," he said sheepishly. "It's just that you're...really beautiful."

Hallie laughed and said, "Confession is good for the soul—or so they say. So if you felt the need, then I accept your apology although I must confess I don't mind if you do look."

"Does that include staring?" he asked, his confidence fully restored.

"It's been so long since any nice-looking guy paid any attention to me, I don't think I'd mind at all if someone as handsome as you stared at me." She paused then said, "It is a good kind of staring, right? I'd hate to think I spilled something on my clothes."

"No, nothing's stained. You look incredible. Trust me on that, okay?" he told her. "The first time I met you I remembered thinking you might well be the most attractive woman I'd ever seen and yet tonight you look even more beautiful."

Hallie was smiling from ear to ear. "Thank you, Mike. You have no idea how nice it was to hear you say that."

"It's true, Hallie."

"Well, as long as we're confessing...I had the exact same thought about you that first time."

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