Happy Birthday, Baby

( Note to the Reader: This is the first short story I have written of this type and I am curious to know what you think of it. Comments welcomed. Enjoy! )

On this particular day you've had the misfortune to work all day. I, however, was lucky enough to have the day off.

You come home from work dead tired. The day has been terrible, you say. One of those everything-that-could-go-wrong-did-go-wrong days. I greet you at the door with my welcoming arms and soft lips. I am wearing a new flowing flower-printed sundress with buttons travelling down the front. My chestnut tresses are loosely clipped atop my head, smelling of my fragrant shampoo. My makeup is light and natural. You look me over and comment on how beautiful I look. I smile at you and blush slightly like I always do for compliments and thank you modestly. When you come more into the room, your nose is greeted by the mingling smells of peach from the candle I have burning on the coffee table and the chicken Parmesan I have cooking in the kitchen.

After giving you a thorough greeting complete with kisses, caresses and hugs, I send you off to the bathroom for a shower before dinner. I give you a suggestive pat on the butt as you head off. You turn to look at me, ready to admonish me, but my sweet, playful grin and the twinkle in my eye of things to come make you laugh instead.

I leave you uninterrupted to your shower but I can hear you singing which leads me to believe I have improved your mood. After your shower you absent-mindedly reach for your robe which you hung up behind the bathroom door as usual. But instead of your old ratty terry robe, you feel soft silk beneath your fingers. A new navy blue silk robe is hanging on the hook; your old robe is nowhere in sight. You grin like a little kid as you slip your arms into the sleeves of the silky fabric. The silk hangs gently on your broad shoulders. You belt the sash and can't resist looking in the mirror to notice how wonderfully it fits.

You come find me in the kitchen where I am stirring some vegetables on the stove. You wrap your arms around me and murmur, "Thank you for the robe, sweetie." I can feel your warm breath on my neck and then I feel your lips kiss that sensitive spot beneath my ear were my jaw ends. Electrons travel throughout my body at your touch. I smile as the excitement makes my stomach flip.

"You are most welcome," I say in a soft voice.

"Dinner isn't quite ready yet, " I continue. "Would you like a drink while you wait?"

You agree that a relaxing drink would be the perfect way to unwind before dinner after a hectic day. I send you into the living room telling you I'll bring your drink.

You settle yourself on the comfy couch, and contemplate turning on the tv, but before you can reach for the remote, the stereo comes on and soft, soulful music fills the room. Something romantic and instrumental, classical. You wonder how the stereo has magically turned on when I come gliding around the corner with your drink in one hand and the remote for the stereo in the other.

"Aha!" you remark. "You've thought of everything, haven't you?"

I give you that Mona Lisa smile and the twinkle in my eyes has turned to a distinct spark. I walk behind the sofa, setting your drink on the end table beside you. "You, my darling," I whisper in your ear, placing my hands on your shoulders, "haven't seen ANYTHING yet!" I begin massaging your shoulders, kneading your work weary muscles with my fingertips.

You lean back and close your eyes with a sigh. My fingers continue to massage your shoulders and your neck, gradually moving upwards to caress your face and massage your temples. You feel like you are in heaven. Sensual tunes mingle with the sweet, loving words I whisper in your ear. The drink I made has relaxed you and you can smell the delicious scents of dinner.

I hear the oven timer start to ding and so I leave you to your music and drink, with one last kiss atop your head.

You hear me moving about in the kitchen and holler an offer of assistance. I saunter into the dining room off of the kitchen and reply, "I think I have everything under control, sweetheart. The only thing I'd like you to do is come sit at the table. Dinner is served." I say royally, but with a grin.

You laugh. "Should I get dressed?" you wonder. I look at you with a sly grin and that suggestive spark in my eye.

"Well, if you WANT to, I suppose you should. But I don't really see the need...." I trail off. You can't help but chuckle. What a sly sweetheart I am!

When you sit at the table your eyes scan across the table: fresh flowers, two candles brightly flickering, a bottle of chilled wine, a leafy salad, a basket of soft rolls, the fragrant chicken, aside fettuccini noodles with sauce, and steamed vegetables. "Mmmmn," you murmur appreciatively. "Everything looks delicious, hon."

I look at you with that spark in my eye, burning just a bit more brightly. "Oh, I agree! Everything looks quite tasty!"

You look at me, knowing darn well that I wasn't talking about the meal I had prepared. Yet I have the "picture of innocence" look on my face: my eyes shining and my lips curved in a sweet smile.

Dinner passes in amiable conversation and great food. "Would you like dessert now darling? Or would you rather wait until later?" I ask. The look in my eye tells you that there is really only one correct answer here.

"Hmmmn, I do believe I am quite full now. Perhaps we could have dessert later?"

"My sentiments exactly." I agree. "I feel like I need to do something to work off this meal... something recreational."

You look at me with your eyebrows raised. I have a demure smile on my face. "Don't you think that is a good idea?"

You nod slowly. "Oh yes. I think that is an excellent idea. What do you have in mind? I assume you have something on your mind," you say.

I smile at you and look you directly in the eye. "Oh, I'm sure I can think of something." I get up and begin putting the dinner dishes away into the kitchen. You get up and help me clear the table.

It is miraculous that we get all the leftovers put away and the dishes loaded into the dishwasher at all, since it would appear our "recreational activities" have commenced and we play tag in the kitchen. (You know SEXUAL tag where only the BEST body parts count.) After the dining room and the kitchen are cleaned up and the dishwasher is set whirring, our playful activities continue into the living room. And now that the work is done, our play gets all the more playful. That sash on your robe has become my goal to grasp and untie. You must be on the defensive to protect the sash and your modesty.

"I guess you should have changed." I giggle, making a dart for the sash with my hands.

"Oh!" you retaliate. "I am dressed just fine." You clutch the knot at your waist. "It is YOU who needs to change!" At that you begin undoing the buttons which are running down the front of my dress.

You manage to undo three buttons at the bodice before I take notice and run away with a squeal. The buttons you have managed to release have left a gaping, peeking hole at the sheer, lacy, beige bra I have on beneath.

You are curious. "Hey, I haven't seen that bra before."

I grin slyly. "And you're not going to see it either," I taunt, purposefully antagonizing you.

Your reaction is exactly what I had anticipated and you move towards me, the look of desire in your eyes. I step backwards for every step you advance. Finally you make a lunge for me. I anticipated this move, but my limbs are shorter than yours, so I do not make my escape. You have caught hold of the bottom hem of my dress. I am afraid to move away for fear of ripping the fabric. I have a trapped look on my face, yet my eyes still have that smoldering quality.

You tug on my dress, making me come closer to you. You have a wide grin. I pretend to pout, but the corners of my mouth keep turning up, regardless how hard I try to prevent them. I cross my arms over my chest, thinking I might be caught but I refuse to give in. Undaunted, you start undoing the buttons at the bottom of the dress, working your way up. I let you, knowing you're not in for the reward you think you are going to get. You were expecting to find my soft legs underneath, and eventually my panties, no doubt. But you soon discover that rather than my lightly tanned skin greeting you, more pale beige fabric appears. "What is this?" you inquire. I shrug. You continue undoing buttons, and part my dress to further examine what I am wearing beneath it. The same creamy beige fabric that you glimpsed at my breasts has flowed down my body it would appear. The bottom is edged with lace. "Hmmmn, you're full of tricks today, aren't you?" I grin. You move my folded arms away from my breasts. I offer no resistance now. You undo the remaining buttons and move the dress off my shoulders. It falls softly to the floor but you don't even notice. You are much too occupied looking at me. I look at you. Despite my relative state of dishabille, I am not feeling at all nervous or shy. The look in your eyes makes me feel beautiful and desirable.

You cannot take your eyes off the slip dress I am wearing. The length is about to my knees, flowing loosely. I almost wish for a breeze to make the fabric sway. Travelling your eyes upwards you notice how the flowing garment hangs beautifully, not too clingy, but with just enough shape. The only fitted area is the bodice, which fits snugly over my breasts, which threaten to burst out of the scalloped lace at the top of the bra. Spaghetti straps hold the garment in place, leaving my neck ornamented by a thin silver chain with a dewdrop amethyst pendant, ready to drip into my cleavage. You murmur appreciatively. "You are beautiful," you say softly.

"I was hoping you would like it," I reply equally as softly. You pull me closer and kiss me gently on the lips, your arms wrapping around me. I reach to clasp my fingers around your neck, melting into your embrace, and being mesmerized by your lips. You kiss along my neck and down my soft white throat, making me shiver. My breasts you cannot resist capturing in your hands, caressing the exposed skin with your thumbs. I make a soft mewling sound in my throat. You move me back against the couch, lying me against the cushions.

You run your hands along the sheer, silky fabric, making it shimmy upwards, over my thighs. I am surprisingly comfortable and I watch your activities curiously. You run your hands along my smooth thighs now. I shiver involuntarily from your touch. Your exploring fingers begin voyaging upward, in search of hidden treasures. I feel myself getting excited from anticipation. I wonder what you are feeling. You gently encourage my thighs to part. My body, the way it is feeling, would obey your every command. Your warm hands caress my inner thighs. I moan softly. You now move my slip higher, exposing my panties. The panties are also like nothing I have ever worn before. The sides are that beige fabric you are becoming to know so well. And then, right at the front is that lace, so sheer that you can clearly see the brown curls beneath. You gasp out loud and I can't prevent a small giggle.

"Wha-I... S... I...." you stammer. I giggle again at your speechlessness.

"Just one last little surprise." I say. You groan.

"I'll say a surprise! Since when do you wear things like this?"

I shrug. "Since now, I suppose." I smile at you. You roll your eyes at me. I laugh.

"Always full of surprises, aren't you? What am I going to do with you?" you wonder. I shrug and grin at you. You pinch my inner thighs playfully and I squeal. Then your thumb casually rubs across the lace of my panties. I twitch. You smile. You like seeing me squirm.

You can't resist any longer and move your face to kiss my inner thighs, your thumb still caressing. Then your mouth travels upwards, towards that alluring, revealing lace. I quiver in anticipation. The closer you get, the more you can smell my clean, musky, feminine scent. Your tongue tentatively laps at the lace. I moan and arch up towards you in pleasurable agony. You look up at my face.

"You like that?" you ask with a cocky grin. I know that you know that you're driving me wild! I writhe again in reply and mumble something unintelligible.

You resume your attentions and nuzzle your tongue against the lace of my panties. I moan again, loving this beyond description. I am sure that this lace has become drenched with my wetness by now, seeping through to your lips. You slip your fingers beneath the lace and gently encourage it away, wanting to submerge yourself deeper, to explore further. My lacy panties are quickly removed to drop ignored to the living room floor for the remainder of the evening.

Then, without delay, your tongue dips between my womanly lips, lightly exploring. You find my "love button" and your tongue circles it, teasing it, then lightly flicking over it, your lips sucking it causing it to perk up like a delicate spring flower bud seeking the sun.

Meanwhile I writhe and moan and twitch and whimper at your considerate and thorough attention. I can feel my stomach muscles tensing, orgasm on the horizon. My whines become more plaintive and higher in pitch and you know the effect you are having on me. You alternate sucking on my clitoris with giving it soft blows. My muscles all tense and I become quite still, only my fingers clenching. My head is thrown back against the back of the couch. You flutter your tongue over my clit as your lips gently suck. And when you slip your fingers deep into my womanhood, I am pushed over the edge to my orgasm. I am entirely silent as my body stiffens and spasms before you. You gently move your fingers in and out of me, feeling my womanhood grasping them. Eventually my erratic breathing calms and my shudders subside. You lightly kiss my inner thighs. I weakly manage to lift my head to look at you, a blissful and completed look on my face. My chest and throat are covered with a pink blush. You grin at me without a word.

You slide up to kiss my lips before departing to the washroom to clean your face.

Then, when I have returned from cleaning myself up, I find you sitting on the couch, a fresh drink in your hand.

"I took the liberty of making you a drink, darling." you say, motioning to another glass on the end table.

I smile and take a sip. Then I look at you and grin suspiciously.

You look at me. "What is THAT look for?" I raise my eyebrows suggestively at you.

"Oh, nothing." I reply casually. For some reason you remain doubtful.

I kneel before you and look up at you sweetly, smiling. You caress my cheek with your fingertip and then reach to release the clip from my hair. My chestnut brown hair softly falls from its confinement like a waterfall. I toss my head about a bit until it settles like a whisper over my shoulders. You can't resist touching a lock of it, which is dangling near my cleavage.

My hand, meanwhile, starts lightly caressing the top of your foot. Then it travels upwards along your inner calf up to your kneecap where I tickle you lightly. You fidget. I smirk.

I take another sip of my drink and then my moist, cold lips follow the course of my hand, making a trail of light, cool kisses against your hot skin. You make the odd appreciative murmur.

My hand now starts slipping upward even more, while the other finally undoes the sash to your robe. You look at me and raise an eyebrow. I smile innocently yet we both know where this is headed.

As I move my hand up your thigh, I remark to you how much hotter the skin seems to be getting. You try to shrug indifferently.

I take another sip of my drink and once again my chilled, wet lips kiss your skin, cooling it.

My hands and lips have avoided all contact with your manhood and my fingers and lips and tongue tease and tickle all around your shaft, which by now is throbbing and standing upright. The only contact to your manhood comes from my hair as it dangles down, tickling it.

I take another sip of my drink. And only now do I make contact with your shaft. My cool, wet hands (from the moisture on the glass) grasp firmly around the base of your shaft, squeezing. My lips cover the head in one smooth motion. You gasp at the sensations.

You, until this moment, had not realized that I had one of the ice cubes from my drink in my mouth. And now you are further aroused by the extreme contrast my hot mouth and the cold ice provide. I move my tongue around, tickling your head, the ice flowing from one side of my mouth to the other.

I remove my lips from your manhood and blow lightly against its wetness.

Shivers run down your spine. Now my lips tease along the side of your shaft, the ice held by my tongue rubs your skin. You moan. After travelling the length of your shaft and back up the other side, the ice has almost melted entirely, so I overlap your head again and begin sucking you in earnest. My tongue massages the ridge beneath your head and around to the right side, which you love. My hands stroke your shaft with just perfect amount of pressure. You feel your release building powerfully and know that you can not hold back much longer. With a few more strokes of my hand and movement from my hot tickling tongue, you are sent over the edge and climax forcefully into my mouth.

Once you have finished your climax you look at me for a moment, just staring. I blush as your scrutiny embarrasses me.

"What?" I finally implore. You smile at me and reach down to hug me, hauling me up off the floor and into your lap, lips meeting lips.

"I love you! Do you know that?" you say.

I smile at you. "Yes, I know. And I love you too." I snuggle in your lap with my head against your shoulder. My fingers draw on your chest. You kiss my forehead and I get quivery all over.

We sit together like that, cuddled in each other's arms, lightly caressing each other. I reach behind me and grab the TV remote, putting on something mindless and funny so that we can just relax. A few hours later I wake, having fallen asleep in your arms. Looking over at you I notice that you too have drifted off, your head against the back of the couch, your eyes closed. I look my fill of you and smile at how adorable you look sleeping, your breathing slow and even. I lean over to plant a feather-light kiss on your lips. You don't even stir.

The TV is still on so I watch it idly. Meanwhile I begin caressing you lightly on your arms, a light ticklish caress. My hand then moves to your chest and my fingernails tickle your skin gently. You still remain sleeping but now you have begun to twitch slightly.

I grin and try to imagine what you are dreaming about. My hands trail lower and run along your upper and inner thighs. Then I blow gently on your neck and lick your ear. You snooze on, only occasionally murmuring and moving. I giggle silently. I decide it is time for the heavy artillery.... My hands move to stroke your limp manhood gently. It doesn't respond but I am persistent, lightly stroking your shaft and fondling your balls.

Eventually my persistence pays off as the shaft swells slightly and becomes more firm. I continue stroking, now applying more pressure. You stir in your sleep and mumble, shifting so I have better access to your manhood. I wrap my fingers around the shaft and cover the head with my thumb, massaging it in leisurely circles.

I know the precise instant you wake because your manhood abruptly stiffens in that moment as well. With the sudden pressure I feel stretching my hand and the increased hardness I feel, I turn to look at you. Your eyes are open and you smirk at me. "Hello there," you say.

"Hello THERE!" I reply with a mischievous grin. You chuckle.

"It's entirely your fault!" you protest.

"Oh, I know. And you know me well enough to know that I'll take care of it for you." I say with a squeeze for emphasis.