The Happy Birthday Book of Erotica Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Introduction

  HAPPY BIRTHDAY

  PARTY GIRL ON THE LOOSE

  MORE, PLEASE, SIR

  PUSS-IN-BOOTS

  THE BIRTHDAY PARTY

  OPTIONS

  AMID FLOWERS

  HER BIRTHDAY SUIT

  VERONICA’S LOVER

  TWENTY-NINE AGAIN

  FORTY-SEVEN CANDLES

  ANOTHER TEN FOR EXTRA

  SANDRA BOISE TURNS THIRTY

  CHASING HER DREAM

  THE BIRTHDAY TREAT

  BIRTHDAY SPANKING

  HIS BIRTHDAY SUIT

  BIRTHDAY SPANKING, WITH A TWIST

  YOU SAY IT’S YOUR BIRTHDAY

  ABOUT THE AUTHORS

  ABOUT THE EDITOR

  Copyright Page

  To SAM

  The best birthdays of all are those that haven’t arrived yet.

  —ROBERT ORBEN

  Let us celebrate the occasion with wine and sweet words.

  —PLAUTUS

  INTRODUCTION

  Close your eyes,” he said. “Close your eyes and make a wish—”

  When I began gathering stories for this collection, I knew exactly what I wanted: to create the most perfect birthday gift. A book filled with erotic experiences to share with a friend, lover, or that in-between sort of person you’re hoping to slip up to the next step.

  “Come on, baby. Close those beautiful brown eyes for me—”

  I wanted stories of the ultimate birthday extravaganzas, tales of wanton wish fulfillment and lust. I craved experiences, the ones that would mimic or even surpass my own. The perfect birthday present doesn’t involve fancy wrapping or glossy colored ribbons, unless they’re tied around a lover’s wrist: the definitive gift is an experience, a memory, something to savor for years to come.

  “Did you make a wish, baby doll? Don’t say it out loud, or it won’t come true.”

  I remember all of my important birthdays—and all of my birthday sex. I turned nineteen with a leather salesman in London. He gave me a sexy sideways glance that made me want to swim the Channel for him. Or at least wait out on the steps until he got off work and we could walk the streets together, hand in hand. We found a back alley near my hotel, and when I confessed it was my birthday, he spanked me with a pair of well-worn leather gloves. To this day, whenever I smell leather, I think of him.

  Twenty-one was celebrated in Hawaii, half-drunk and giddy on champagne, on a blanket on the beach. Silver moonlight and sun-warmed sand. The taste of saltwater on his skin. The gilded platinum of his hair. He kissed me all over before fucking me in the ocean, the gentle waves licking at us as he cradled me in his arms.

  I was in New York for my twenty-fifth, with a raucous crowd of drag queens and so many birthday candles it seemed they lit up the night. I won four different birthday spankings—more than one hundred blows in all—and felt as if my blushing rear cheeks could have given those candles a run for the money. I was literally pink cheeked and glowing by the end of the night.

  Paris at thirty: Sweet sex on a bridge as the tour boats glided below us. His firm hand in my long dark hair, tilting my head back, holding me steady as his cock slid deep inside me. We’d planned well. My full silver-gray skirt hid my front, his long black trench gave us coverage. The only people who knew what was going on were the two of us, and the old Parisian man who strolled silently by, looking over his shoulder once and giving me a wink. “Bonsoir, mademoiselle,” he murmured as he passed, and I felt as young and sweet as if I’d just been carded.

  Everyone should turn thirty in Paris.

  “A birthday spanking’s what you need—”

  I don’t ever plan to start lying about my age. Too much math involved on the one hand, and on the other, I’d be shortchanged…on birthday spankings. Who wants to receive twenty-two swats when you can have twenty-eight? Or thirty-two? Or…?

  The writers in this book all have their own ideas about what makes the perfect birthday gift. Turned on by a pair of luscious high-heeled leather boots that hug the calves? Read Shanna Germain’s deliriously passionate “Puss-in-Boots.”

  Do you go for threesomes or foursomes, or out-of-control more-somes? You’ll find them in Sage Vivant’s birthday fiesta gone wild, “Forty-seven Candles,” and Saskia Walker’s “Party Girl on the Loose.”

  Ever dream of sex with a handsome stranger? Try Jolene Hui’s “The Birthday Treat” or Kate Laurie’s “Her Birthday Suit.”

  If your fantasies lean the way mine do, and you desire a delicious birthday spanking, lick your finger and turn to N. T. Morley’s “More, Please, Sir,” Emilie Paris’s “Twenty-nine Again,” or “Chasing Her Dream,” by Michelle Houston, to name but three.

  Now, close your eyes, make a wish, and blow out the candles.

  Happy birthday, baby.

  Alison Tyler

  San Francisco

  July 2006

  HAPPY BIRTHDAY

  Simone Harlow

  Maris Landry unlocked the front door of her house. She shoved her keys in her purse, kicked the door shut, then slammed her purse down on the hall table. With a sigh, she unholstered her service weapon and put it on the table. Her handcuffs came next, then her detective shield. After pulling the Velcro tabs on her bulletproof vest, she yanked it over her head, and dropped it on the floor.

  Happy fucking birthday to me.

  She started stripping in the hall, dropping clothes as she walked to her bedroom. She needed a shower, a scotch, Cherry Garcia, and bed. In that order.

  After showering and downing the single malt, she felt her day’s work had earned her a ménage à trois with the most dependable men in her life, Ben and his buddy Jerry. The whole pint, no nibbling a spoonful and calling that dessert. Tonight she was licking the carton clean.

  As she shoved the first delicious spoonful in her mouth, she heard the doorbell ring. It had better not be her sister, Angela, she thought, wanting to celebrate her birthday. Maris would shoot her. As she headed to the door, pulling her robe around her, the phone rang. She grabbed the cordless. “I’ll be right there,” she yelled at the door. “Hello?”

  “Happy birthday, baby sister. How’s thirty-five?”

  “It sucks.” She adjusted her robe. “You at the door?”

  “No, but your birthday present is.”

  Her sister was into the S/M scene. And she often swore Maris needed to join her. “What did you get me? Leather chaps? A giant dildo? I’m sending it back.”

  “What did you tell me you wanted this year?”

  She thought for a minute. “A twenty-year-old named Nick.” Maris peeked out of the window. From her angle all she could see was a blond head. Oh shit. “You got me a guy?”

  Angela laughed. “Not just any guy. I sent you Nick.”

  Maris opened the door. There in the doorway stood a blond god. Naked. Except for the big red bow hiding his stuff. “Oh my god.”

  “Happy birthday,” Angela yelled.

  Behind Naked Guy, Maris saw her neighbor’s front door open a crack. She grabbed Nick’s arm and pulled him inside and slammed the door. As a cop, she dealt with a lot of freaky shit, but it had never followed her home before. She was gonna cap Angela as soon as she got rid of naked Nick.

  “Do you like him?”

  What wasn’t to like? A face like an angel, a bod built for sin. She liked him just fine. “I said young, dumb, and hung. He ain’t young.” She lifted his right hand. “I see a West Point ring. Class of ’94. The Point means he’s not dumb.”

  “He’s younger than you.”

  Maris lifted up the elaborate bow. His long t
hick cock stood at attention like a good soldier. Her warrior cometh. “Oh my.”

  “One out of three ain’t bad,” Angela cackled.

  Soldier boy Nick grinned.

  She dropped the bow. “Can’t you at ease that thing?”

  Nick shrugged. “He likes you.”

  God help her, she was turned on. “Your name really Nick?”

  He held out his hand. “Nicolas Bennett.”

  Maris ignored his hand. “Are you one of her…?” What was the word she called her dates?

  “Her pet? No, I’m not a pet.”

  Angela laughed into the phone. “He lost a bet and he’s mine for a night. I thought you needed him more than I did.”

  Maris was not amused. “Thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it, Sis.”

  Maris gripped the phone tighter. Her sister had gone too far. “Call me next year and maybe I won’t be mad at you.”

  “I’ll see you at Mom’s on Sunday. Enjoy your present.”

  Maris hit the disconnect button and put the phone in her robe pocket. She squared her shoulders. With her best cop face on, she took a step closer to Nick. “My pint of Ben and Jerry’s is getting lonely; get your naked behind out of my house.”

  He crossed his arms over his massive chest. “No.”

  “Don’t bust an attitude with me Big Dick Nick.” Maris put her hands on her hips. “I’m LAPD, I’ll kick your ass.”

  A blond eyebrow raised. “I’m ex–Special Forces. So, no… you won’t.”

  The fact that Nick’s finely rippled body was standing between her and her gun, put a new slant on the picture.

  “You want me.”

  She did. He was a walking fuck fantasy. “You showed up. Ha ha, big surprise. Now go.” She tried to sound convincing.

  “I always pay my debts.”

  “What did you bet on?” She couldn’t keep herself from asking.

  He didn’t answer, at least not verbally, choosing instead to rip off the bow. Now he stood before her gloriously naked.

  Maris turned her head, not wanting to stare at the package. Gawking was totally uncool. She needed to keep her pride. “Put that thing away.”

  He took a few steps, made a quick grab for her, and slung her over his shoulder. “Let’s play.” He started climbing the stairs.

  “I’m not into this shit.” Although this caveman routine was kinda sexy, she had to admit that, even upside down.

  “We’ll see.”

  Her stomach bounced on his shoulder all the way up the stairs. This gave her a chance to take a gander at his ass. It was high and well muscled. He had the Renoir of butts. This beat the Glock 28 her dad bought her last year.

  Happy birthday to me.

  Nick tossed her onto the bed. For a second she just lay there, defiance in her brown eyes. He liked that. She wouldn’t be easy to tame, but she would be fun. He leaned over and slid his hand between her legs until he felt her pussy. As his fingers sunk into her moist slit, she bit her full bottom lip. Her back arched and one lush breast slipped free of her red silk robe. “Still wanna kick my ass, Detective?” he asked.

  She shook her head.

  He smiled, pushing his fingers further inside her. Instantly he felt her muscles clench around them. “I didn’t think so.” With his free hand, he untied the sash of her robe and pushed the material aside. Her high firm breasts would fit into the palms of his hands perfectly. She had a strong fit body she kept combat ready, and she clearly had fight in her. He liked that. Nick squeezed the two white globes and then bent to lick them. Maris whimpered as her legs spread wider.

  “Good girl.” Nick took his fingers out of her pussy. He spread her legs wider and knelt down between them. He had to taste her. He started tonguing her with broad flat strokes, licking her entire snatch. Her juices flowed. He grabbed her hips to stop her from wiggling as his tongue flicked over her hard clit. His cock grew harder as he pushed his tongue inside her as deep as it would go.

  As her sweet juices met his lips, Nick suddenly couldn’t stand not having his cock inside her. Lifting up her legs, he hooked them over his shoulders. Slowly he began to guide his cock into her. His instinct was to conquer and subvert, but he could tell that Maris needed a gentle hand. Anything but a straight fuck and he’d lose her.

  She was so tight, at first he could only manage to get the head of his cock into her damp pussy.

  “Please.”

  “Easy, baby, you’re tight.” He entered an inch at a time. The strain was destroying him; he clamored for release. Sweat beaded on his body. Using his thumb, he pulled back on the hood of her clit and began to massage her hard nub. In response, she drove her hips up and forced his cock in deeper. She began to whimper. Nick knew it was impossible for him to wait to come and he impaled her to the hilt with his straining cock. He pumped hard and fast, feeling her climaxing around him. Harder and harder he drove into her until he was ready to burst. Her tight pussy milked his cock as he exploded inside her. Nick dropped her legs and fell to his knees, laying his head gently on her stomach. He inhaled: her skin smelled like jasmine and sex.

  “Happy birthday, Maris.”

  Maris ran her hand through his sweat-slicked hair. “You’re a keeper.”

  Nick laughed, and it was clear from his expression that he agreed.

  PARTY GIRL ON THE LOOSE

  Saskia Walker

  Vanessa stepped out of the hotel compound and walked up the hill without a backward glance. The Spanish resort village had everything a soul could need, but Vanessa was going stir crazy in there. She’d had quite enough lounging around, sipping cervezas. She’d agreed to do just that for the entire week, but it was driving her insane. Besides, there was hardly any male talent to flirt with, much to her horror. Leaving her sun-worshiping companion, Tess, to her magazines and her lounger, Vanessa announced she was bailing out for a bit of fun. Dressing in her sexiest sundress and high heels, she cracked open her hottest red lipstick and fished out her credit cards. Tess waved her off with a knowing smile, as if she’d realized all along her companion wouldn’t last the distance.

  Vanessa strode up the hill, feeling as if she’d broken out of jail. Adrenaline ran in her veins, her party-girl nature rising up from the ashes of a lost week lazing by the pool. “Fun,” she murmured to herself, as she headed for a cluster of bars and shops. “Spanish fun is what I need.” The resort wasn’t in a busy area, though; it was mostly residential, but still she was hopeful. She was the kind of woman who could trigger the appropriate diversion with people who were up for it. Her theory was that fun-lovers gravitated to each other; she only had to seek out the needy.

  The handful of shops proved fruitful. In the space of two hours she spent money in a designer clothes shop, a flea market, and a greengrocer, and drank cocktails in two different bars. She played blackjack with the barman in the first. In the second, she danced to gypsy guitar music on the jukebox with three sparkly-eyed grandfathers who she saw humming along to the tunes. It hadn’t taken much encouragement to get them on their feet. Things were shaping up.

  Alas, the grandfathers hugged her and left at siesta time. The barman told her she’d made his day. After a while she took her leave too, bereft without her party companions. She wandered on past the conglomeration of shops and bars, to where the area became more residential, with well-spaced luxury villas hidden behind hacienda-style walls.

  Was that all there was? Well, she’d had some entertainment; she couldn’t really complain. She was just thinking of heading back to Tess when she noticed two young men walking toward her. They were both attractive, locals it seemed to her, with dark coloring and street-smart looks. Their brand-name clothes and spiked hair were clearly meant to impress and she smiled her approval. Their pacing slowed as they looked at her with interest. When she stepped to one side of the narrow path, they stepped that way too, speaking under their breath to each other. They wanted to touch her. Sheer sexual need emanated from them. She walked straight between them, brushin
g against them both as she did so. The taller of the two managed to touch her breast with his arm.

  Eager, oh they were eager. Lean, Latin, lover boys. Two of them. Her mouth watered. Glancing back she saw that one of them had turned around and was treading in her footsteps, a pair of sunglasses casually low so that she could see his eyes, an impish smile lifting the corners of his mouth. If he were planning to mug her, he’d have done it by now. He was up for action, and he’d picked just the woman to get a response from. Vanessa drew to a halt, one hand on her hip, watching him.

  “Hola. Are you lost, can I help you?” The other one had disappeared. Vanessa wondered if his friend was waiting to see how he fared with her, or had he dared him to approach her?

  “Is there anything to see up here?” She eyed his wiry body as she spoke. If he thought himself able to seduce an older woman, she wanted to go along with it. She leaned back casually and waved a magazine that she pulled out of one of her bags, brushing it lightly across the tops of her breasts as she fanned herself with it.

  His grin spread and he adopted a relaxed pose, leaning close to her. He obviously thought his devastating charm had melted her. “I could show you around.” His hands spread in an open gesture. “There is a park near here, perhaps you would like to see it?”

  Vanessa reached forward and lifted his sunglasses off, looking at the sharp blue eyes that flickered with surprise when they met hers. She folded the sunglasses into the top pocket on his shirt, taking a moment to draw the back of her hand slowly across his chest, measuring him appreciatively. “And your friend?” She trailed her fingers on his collar. “Would your friend like to come too?” She raised her eyebrow at him, making sure he knew he was getting somewhere.

  “Yes, Estavan will come, if you like….”

  “You’re trying to seduce me, aren’t you?”