I Hate Birthdays

We kissed again in the bedroom, and she pressed her body against mine. I fell backwards onto the bed. Sammi giggled, standing above me, as she shed her pants. "I've been looking forward to this for a while," she told me. "Do you know how hard it is to do your job when there's a cute guy smiling at you?"

I unzipped my own pants, and she helped me slide them off. "Do you know how hard it is not to continuously ask out the cutest waitress in town?"

Then she pounced on me, kissing me again. Her soft skin felt great on mine, and it wasn't long before I was rock hard. She felt it too. "I think someone wants to say hello," she said, and pulled my boxers down to let my erection flop out. "Such a big boy," she cooed, taking my dick in her hand, "what shall we do with you?"

"I think we can think of a few ideas," I responded.

"I bet," she said, "but I think this is the first order of business." She sat up on me and pulled her panties off. Then, slowly, she sank down, impaling herself on my dick. "God, it's been a while," she gasped.

I nodded. "Me too." Sammi was a smaller girl than my ex, and so tight, but so warm and wet, and I just wanted to get myself all the way inside. "Are you protected?"

She nodded and bit her lip. "Yeah, we're good. Now, Evan, hold on. I'm gonna fuck the bajeezus out of you."

I grabbed her hips and she rode me, slow only at first, then fast and frantic. She only paused for a moment to whip off her bra. I then was able to slide my hands up and play with her breasts. The teasing of her nipples just made her ride me harder and moan louder.

"Sammi, I'm gonna..." I groaned, "I'm close..."

"Hold on, almost... there..." she grunted, then yelled, "Cumming!"

"Guhhh!" I moaned, spilling my seed into her tunnel, combining my warmth into hers. The world got fuzzy for me, and possibly for her too. She collapsed next to me, on my right, and she threw her arm around me.

Then she started to laugh. It started as a chuckle. Then it got louder. It was cathartic, and contagious, because I started to laugh too. Our little fit lasted a minute before we calmed down.

"What's so funny?" I finally asked.

She looked at me with a happy, sleepy grin. "Happy Birthday," she said.

"Merry Christmas," I answered back.

--

We'd joke later that it was the best birthday I'd ever had, despite it being three months late, and the best Christmas ever despite it not being December. On the anniversary of that day in May, we decided to name it Cursebreaker Day.

We called it that because of the following holidays. Sammi moved in with me before Christmas, and we decorated the apartment with tinsel and about a thousand LED lights. Remembering the sad story from her past, I gave her a Barbie doll (a real one), which made her crack up. Then I gave her a gold necklace with a shiny emerald pendant, and she couldn't stop grinning like the lovestruck fool she was. She kissed me and told me it was the best Christmas ever.

Then, the following February, Sammi threw me a birthday party in our apartment. There were a total of two guests: me and her. We didn't leave the apartment for those 24 hours. The worst thing to happen that day was complete exhaustion and maybe a little dehydration from all the physical activity. Then we had a small get-together with friends the following day, and we celebrated the official end of the bad birthday streak.

So Cursebreaker Day became a thing. Our own private holiday. We celebrated by going dancing, then having a fancy dinner, where I proposed. Sammi cried but nodded yes. Then we went home for some sweet engagement lovemaking.

As luck would have it, Cursebreaker Day became magical, since we conceived that night. Sammi's still not sure how her birth control failed, but we were thrilled anyway. Our son was born on my birthday, February 27. And do you know what I realized?

I love birthdays.

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