It started off just right—family and friends, plenty of drinks, and all the usual birthday fanfare. As the party simmered down, only my husband and our neighbors, Lisa and Ken, who were absolutely toasted, were left. Being the responsible one, I insisted they crash on our couch so no one was driving home drunk.

After everyone seems settled, I start tidying up, because, let’s face it, no one else is going to! Eventually, I make my way upstairs, thinking my husband had hit the sack earlier in our daughter’s room since she’s at uni. The door’s slightly open, the light’s dim, and I see what I assume are my husband’s legs sprawled on the bed. Okay, classic, he’s out cold, probably couldn’t make it to our bedroom.

Now, here’s where it gets spicy—I thought, “Hey, why not surprise him with a little birthday treat from me?” I start going down on him, and, girl, he’s hard and not waking up. It’s all getting super intense, right? I’m working my magic, and bam, he finishes right in my mouth. Now, I’m trying to keep it all in, swallow it without a mess—like a real trooper, right? But something’s off. His taste… it’s different. And I mean, not subtly. Also, I might just be in my head but, this feels… bigger than usual?

Anyway, I’m still processing this, a bit thrown off, and as I sneak out, feeling like some kind of secret agent, I bump into—wait for it—my real husband in the hallway, brushing his teeth. Yeah, full-on panic mode. My brain’s just like, “Holy hell, no way did that just happen.” Ken had no clue what happened, completely oblivious the next morning munching on his cereal. And there I was, having swallowed a secret that was definitely not part of my typical birthday menu, and oddly enough, finding the secrecy a little… thrilling?

So, lesson learned: next year’s birthday agenda will skip the surprise treats—or, at least, I’ll double-check who’s really tucked in bed before diving into the festivities.