Birthdays are special to me. Really special. It's hard to imagine another occasion during the year that a person gets to stand up on a chair and say "Hey, what the fuck? This day is about me. Celebrate bitches!" with such complete and utter justification. Which is why, when the last 21 birthdays of mine sucked, I was more than a little put off. I remember doing everything I could to make sure family, friends, and strangers I passed on the street had the best birthday imaginable, and yet somehow, when it came to mine, something went wrong. I had to work, or I got sick, or I had a fight with a girlfriend or someone I loved forgot what day it was. And yet I kept putting more effort into birthdays every year, hoping that someone would finally get the hint and do the same thing back for me.
Now, don't get me wrong, it's not that I spent my birthdays crying in my attic room, eating porridge and pretending the mice were my friends; quite the opposite. My friends usually got me a modest gift, my parents would give me a call to wish they could be there, and my girlfriend would take me out to an extravagant dinner to show me the menagerie of gifts she bought me. I suppose, really, it was selfish of me to want more. People are supposed to be happy with what they get, never ask for anything and be eternally grateful that someone remembered their birthday at all.
"Who? Me? My birthday? Already? Huh, you're right," was the expected response when the gifts were presented, but it always felt fake and hollow. I wanted someone who knew me to give me something that I would remember for decades to come, a gift that would perk up my year. My favorite dinner coupled with my favorite movie, all without being prompted, showing how much somebody loved me. It was my own fault in the end; I didn't let enough people get close enough to really know what I wanted. Usually, I didn't even know what I wanted.
When I got home from work that night (it was my birthday, I had to work of course), I could smell dinner cooking. Lily knew how much I loved pasta, or, more importantly, how much I loved her cooking, so I had guessed that dinner might be waiting for me when I got home. As I got closer, I could see the pot boiling on the stove, as well as a bottle of wine open on the counter. My girlfriend, however, was not in sight. She had probably just gotten off work herself, and it was amazing that she had the time or energy to make any kind of dinner for me at all, birthday or not. I smiled at the thought of her rushing home to make it for me after a hard day, and as much as I wished she had just relaxed and not stressed out about it, I was more than a little flattered that she'd do it for me.
A hand slipped over my shoulder and down my neck, turning me to find that she was wearing an old, soft robe I had given her for Christmas the year before. Even though her hair didn't look wet, she must have been in the shower. Pulling herself in close to me, she let her lips touch mine, chastely, giving me a peck before disappearing into the kitchen.
"This is all done," she said, gesturing towards the pasta, "and will keep while I give you your presents."
I moved up behind her and began to slip my hands inside her robe, but she slapped them away. She grinned at me with a playful smile.
"Not yet. Your presents first."
She grabbed the wine and my hand, and led me into the other room. She knew that I had sold my PS2 a few months earlier and had been mildly regretting it, so I was pretty sure what my gift was. Call it boyfriend's intuition. Or maybe the fact that I was here when the Sony box arrived from Amazon...
She led me inside her room as I prepared to make a surprised face at my gift. My first inclination that maybe I didn't have as good of intuition as I thought was when she let the robe slide off her shoulders. She hadn't been in the shower as I had thought, but instead had been covering up the fact that she had a tight, leather corset on, matching panties, and fish net stockings. The second clue came when I noticed that there was a girl tied up on our bed. She was dressed in a pink plaid skirt, matching white dress shirt and knee highs, but, more noticeably, was hogtied with her hands and legs behind her back and a ball gag forcefully shoved into her mouth. I stared dumbfounded, trying to take this all in, while my girlfriend just grinned at me.
"Happy Birthday."
I looked at her, mouth still trying to close, and managed a squeaky, "Are you kidding?"
Her face changed, turning into a pout, and she sat on the bed next to the tied girl.
"Do you not like your gift?"
She let a hand trace up the girl's legs, over the socks and underneath her skirt. I tried very, very hard to breathe, and found it almost impossible.
"It's not that...I just...wow... yeah... wow..."
She grinned at me again, lifting up the girl's skirt a little so I could see her ass barely covered by a blue thong.
"Her name is Kittie, and she's all ours tonight. We can do anything we want to her. You can do anything you want to her."
She smacked Kittie's ass to prove her point, and the girl moaned through the ball gag.
"Isn't that right, sweetie?"
I could barely hear her muffled moan in reply, but if I had any doubts, Kittie grinding her ass back against my girlfriend's hand put them to rest.
Any ability I had to speak had fried along with the working parts of my brain a few seconds earlier. All I could do was watch Lil begin to trace one of her hands over her own legs, her own pussy, while bringing her other hand down hard on Kittie's ass. Red marks were beginning to crop up, but still Kittie was grinding her ass back to meet the smacks, every single time. I finally got my hands to move and undo the clips attached to the handcuffs on her legs so she could relax back while Lily beat her.
To make up for this nice treatment, Lil drove her hand down harder now, causing Kittie to arc up off the bed with each hit, and I could hear her begging through the ball gag. I leaned over, letting my lips taste Lil's, letting our tongues touch, and suddenly she was pulling me towards her. I fell on top of the bound girl as my girlfriend's hungry mouth sucked in my tongue, as I felt her own sliding over my teeth, her hands rubbing over my chest and my work shirt. Kittie struggled underneath me, whether due to the sudden lack of spanking or my weight was a toss up, but at the moment, I didn't care. My whole world disappeared inside our kiss, and in what seemed like an hour, she finally pulled away.
