The Happy Birthday Book of Erotica Page 2

  He grinned. “Maybe.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Eighteen.” He frowned, shaking his head. “No, nineteen.”

  She lifted an eyebrow again. “You’re not sure?”

  He laughed, a hint of a blush crossing his cheekbones. “It’s my birthday today, I forgot.” He shrugged.

  “Birthday boy, hmm?” She had a feeling she knew what every boy’s birthday dream might be. “I’ll have to think of a way to help you celebrate. If you’d like.”

  He nodded, lips parted, pupils dilated.

  This truly was like getting out of jail. She was seven years older than him, but those seven years were important ones. Was he as cool as he acted? How would he cope if she gave him a real come-on? She wanted to know. She was having fun. “And your friend, Estavan, how old is he?”

  “Nineteen, he is one month older than me.”

  “But you are the brave one, aren’t you?” She stepped closer and ran one finger along his jaw as she glanced over his fit body. Tension shot through him, his body growing taut in response to her touch. She smiled. “We’d better call Estavan back, we don’t want him to feel left out now, do we?”

  He shook his head, but simply stared at her.

  She called down the hill. “Estavan…”

  He glanced around the corner a moment later. His friend waved him up and he slinked out from his hidden spot below.

  “And your name, birthday boy?” Vanessa asked.

  “Jorge.” His gaze followed her hand as she trailed her fingers along her cleavage. Estavan approached, looking with curiosity at his friend.

  She focused her attention on him. “Jorge tells me you will show me the gardens. Are they nearby?”

  After some mumbled plotting in Spanish they nodded and set off, ushering her to follow them. They spoke as they walked along. They seemed to be having some disagreement about what procedure they should adopt. Vanessa smiled to herself. They assumed she wouldn’t be able to read their actions, but it was obvious they weren’t sure how to proceed with their seduction of the tourist they had so bravely approached.

  Inside two minutes they reached the park, deserted in the heat of the afternoon.

  Once within the gates, they stood with their hands nervously pushed into their hip pockets. Vanessa glanced around. The only real cover was on the far side of the terraced lawns, by two weeping willows. She nodded over to the trees. “Shall we sit awhile in the shade? We could cool down there, perhaps?”

  The lads glanced at each other and then Jorge broke into an eager smile. “Yes, let’s sit there for a while.” He stepped over to Vanessa’s side and the two of them crossed the terrace. Estavan followed behind, glancing furtively around for passersby, like a secret agent on a mission, despite the fact that the place was deserted.

  Vanessa brushed her fingers through the delicate green strands of the willow that wavered in the breeze, releasing the smell of fresh sap to her senses. The trailing willow caressed her shoulders as she ducked under the branches and entered the shaded cave beneath.

  She turned to the two lads who had followed and now stood close together, just within the gloom spread beneath the tree. They stood a few paces away from her, Estavan with his hands still in his pockets. Jorge had his arms folded across his chest and glanced at her from under his dark lashes.

  “What a perfect place to help Jorge celebrate his birthday.”

  Jorge grinned.

  She dropped her bags on the ground and flexed her back. “Do you two have girlfriends?”

  Estavan nodded and Jorge looked at him in surprise. “I did but she has moved to Madrid,” he explained.

  Vanessa nodded. Jorge didn’t comment so she didn’t push him. His gaze was fixed on her breasts, which she knew were rather well defined in the fitted bodice of her sundress. It was time to up the ante, to give this young man a birthday to remember. “You are looking at my breasts.” Her hands closed over them. “I like that, Jorge, it makes them feel good. Like it does when I touch them.” She stroked her breasts through the surface of her dress. The tension in the atmosphere heightened dramatically. Anticipation was pouring out of them. “You touch yourself, don’t you, Jorge?”

  The lad shifted, a guilty smile twitching at the corners of his mouth.

  “It’s okay. Everybody does it. It’s a beautiful thing, to make yourself come. You shouldn’t be ashamed.” They were hanging on her every word, astonished and enthralled. “If you can’t love your own body, you can’t love the body of another….” She trailed her hand around the back of her neck. The two of them looked as taut as arrows about to spring from a bow. She gave a low chuckle and leaned her back up against the tree trunk.

  “Estavan, do you like to pleasure yourself?”

  “Pleasure…?”

  “Masturbate, wank, jerk off?”

  “Masturbarse,” Jorge translated.

  After a moment’s hesitation, Estavan nodded.

  “Do you do it often?” She smoothed the skirt of her dress down over her hips. “Confess!” she demanded, with a naughty smile.

  “I do it every day,” Jorge interrupted, in a low voice, drawing her attention back to him. “Why do you want to know?” The restraint in his voice was equal to the tension in his body. Vanessa could see the bulge in his jeans. She eyed it openly.

  “It makes me hot, to think of you doing it,” she whispered. “It makes me hot here.” Her hand closed over her pubic bone, her fingers pushing the material of her dress between her thighs. She wasn’t wearing underwear, so she knew they would see where the fabric dipped into her groin. “I’m burning up thinking about you wanking. Tell me about it.” Her hand moved back and forth. “If you tell me, I’ll show you just how hot it makes me.”

  “I have to do it,” Jorge said, his gaze riveted on her moving hand. “Or I will go mad.”

  Vanessa began to slide her skirt up, swishing the material slowly across her thighs. He groaned as he caught sight of her naked pubic hair. She rested the material of her skirt around her waist, capturing it with her elbows, and then slid her hands over her hip bones. “Would you like to see me pleasure myself, Jorge? I would like to see you doing it. Show me.”

  He was riveted, his jeans bulging, but apparently he was still in need of more encouragement.

  “You know you want to show me, Jorge, and I want to see it.” Her finger opened up the folds of her sex, squeezing her swollen clit, her legs spreading as she leaned back into the tree.

  His eyes were frantic, the lust was there and it was only inexperience holding him back from leaping on her.

  “Would you go mad, if you couldn’t pleasure yourself, right now?”

  His face was flushed, his eyes dark as cobalt as he stared at her bare pussy. “Yes, yes.” He fumbled with his jeans, his mouth open. He was panting with anticipation. His eyes flashed shut briefly when his hand closed over his erect cock.

  Powerful in her sexuality, her thrill was multiplied by the effect she was having on them. Her fingers moved languorously over her clit and through the slick, wet folds of her sex as she watched him. “Beautiful, your cock is very beautiful, Jorge.”

  Jorge staggered nearer her, his fist working faster and faster on his proud cock. “Please…” He licked his lips, his eyes pleading.

  He was so polite! It tweaked something inside her to hear his urgent plea. “Go on then, taste me.”

  He fell to his knees, his face pressing urgently into her pussy. She felt his tongue whip along her fingers and dip between the folds of her sex. He mouthed hungrily at her, tasting what he quite obviously longed to have a go at. He gave a tantalizing flick at her clitoris, then his head went back and she felt the spray of his ejaculation fly up her leg.

  His brief moves brought her heady, raw pleasure; her groin was suffused with heat and sensation. She was hot for more, really hot. She looked at Estavan. He had stood, motionless, his face dark with envy and desire as he observed his friend. “Come closer if you want to.”


  Jorge rested back on his knees, his cock still hard in his hand as he watched. Estavan stepped forward. She took his arm and drew his fingers to her sex. “Does it feel good?” she asked, rubbing his hand there.

  “Yes,” Estavan replied, through gritted teeth.

  Jorge reached forward and pushed her dress higher on her hips, freeing her hands. She began to rotate her hips on Estavan’s fingers, her body pivoting against the tree trunk. His face was contorted with lust; he pressed closer against her, pushing her back against the tree.

  “You want me inside you, don’t you?” he blurted. “I can do it.” The lust in his eyes, his containment, his nerve, thrilled Vanessa.

  “Lie down,” she commanded, and pushed him down on the grass. Jorge was still kneeling on the ground, watching, his cheeks flushed.

  When Estavan lay back, Vanessa ripped open his jeans. The swollen head of his cock bobbed out, hard and ready. She gave a delighted laugh, intoxicated by the moment, and climbed over him. When she sank onto his cock, he groaned loudly. She ground hard onto him, circling quickly, leaning over him as sensation mounted. “Oh yes,” she moaned when waves of heat throbbed up through her.

  Estavan looked at her with fascination, his cock stiff and his body taut, lifting up from the ground.

  She rose up and plunged again. “Do you like it?”

  “Harder, harder,” he replied, nodding, his face contorted. She flexed her hips and rode him faster. His hands clutched at the grass either side of his body; he was helpless beneath her. She could feel his release mounting up inside her and ground close against him, his balls riding up against her buttocks. His hips were wriggling now; he could not come quickly enough. He was in pain with it.

  She leaned back, bowing his cock inside her, powering the release. “Your prick is magnificent, Estavan,” she said. “It’s so hard it’s making me gush inside.” With that, he exploded, his cries of anguish rising up through the branches of the tree.

  Vanessa was still hot for more. She hadn’t come yet. She climbed off, rolled onto her back and touched herself. Her clit was throbbing. She circled it, her fingers focusing the sensation. The pungent smell of sex floated in the warm air, dancing with the scent of sap from the trees. She was intoxicated. Her knees drew up, her thighs falling open.

  Her eyes opened to see the tapestry of willow green moving with the flecks of brilliant blue sky above her. Then she felt a tentative touch on her thighs and, glancing down, she saw Jorge was there, ready to take her to her peak. He kneeled over her, watching her fingers move, his erection standing proud as ever, and his hips pressing forward for her appraisal. It was a beautiful thing, his sturdy prick. So hard and ready for her again.

  “Hello, birthday boy,” she whispered. “What did you get for your birthday?”

  His eyes flashed with amusement. “You.”

  She nodded. “Official party girl, that’s me.”

  His hand was on his cock, stroking it.

  “I hope you enjoy your present.” She winked. “Come on then,” she whispered, and reached out her arm to him.

  He muttered to himself in Spanish and fell on her. She growled when his cock jabbed at her tender, swollen clitoris and then she guided him to the right place, her legs closing around him as he sank into her with a moan of contentment. His face fell against her neck, his mouth pecking hungrily at her skin as his hips began to thrust furiously. He rose up on his arms, looking down at her with longing, as if amazed at the effect he was having on her. His increasingly violent thrusts were so quick and keen she was building and building with them, her sex flooded with heat.

  “It’s so good!” She moaned with pleasure, looking into his eyes and letting him know what he was giving her, her hips arched to take him in. “I’m going to come, Jorge, you are making me come.” Loud, wet slurping sounded every time he thrust in and out, she was so wet. Weight gathered, her clit was thrumming, her sex clutching at him over and over as she climaxed.

  “Fuck, fuck,” he shouted and she felt the quick succession of thrusts, heard the repeated cursing as he climaxed, his body suddenly jerking out of control. His cock slid out and semen pumped over the grass. He gave a deep guttural moan as his body spasmed and shuddered, his arms trembling violently. He collapsed over her.

  Vanessa stroked his head, a smile hovering on her mouth.

  “Can I kiss you?” It was Estavan, leaning over and looking down at her. The shy one had turned out to be the bravest, after all. He’d asked for the first fuck.

  She crooked her finger and slid her hand around his neck as he descended to touch his lips against hers. As she teased his tongue into her mouth with hers, she felt Jorge stirring against her neck and his teeth nibbling at her throat. He murmured something in Spanish. Estavan pulled back and chuckled.

  “What did he say?”

  Jorge lifted his head. “I said you’re the best birthday present I ever had, party girl.”

  “Good.”

  “It’s my birthday tomorrow,” Estavan said, grinning.

  Vanessa laughed, heady with pleasure. “I bet it is.” She winked at Jorge, who had told her Estavan was a month older.

  “It is, really.”

  She sighed with pleasure, stretching languorously on the grass. My work here is not yet done, she thought to herself, with a chuckle. “In that case, it’s just as well party girl isn’t flying home until the day after.”

  The two of them cheered and exchanged a high five over her. Just like she had always said, fun-lovers always gravitated to each other.

  MORE, PLEASE, SIR

  N. T. Morley

  Gina shifted nervously from side to side. The room was full of people, and they were all looking at her. It was, after all, her birthday.

  And she was naked, having stripped off her skirt and blouse just a moment ago.

  “You get to choose,” Ronald told her.

  “Choose—” she stammered, trying her best not to cover herself up with her hands.

  “Choose who you would like to spank you first.”

  She knew she was being punished, after a fashion. She had frustrated her Master with her love of being spanked. He had put her across his knee many times, her ass tilted just so and her naked body wriggling with each stroke he gave her. Her pussy got wet from the first blow every time, but no matter how long he spanked her, no matter how red and hot and aching her ass was after ten or twenty or thirty minutes of punishment, she always said the same thing.

  “More, please, Sir.”

  It might have been her submissive nature; after all, she had been trained to accept whatever happened to her, to beg for more. But with spanking, Ronald had instructed her that he would spank her until she begged him to stop—or until he had reached the limits of his endurance.

  She had never begged him to stop. And that’s why Gina stood, now, nude in their living room with three people looking at her—two men, one woman. All three had cruel smiles on their faces.

  Where should she start? There was Jess, a friend of Ronald’s who had spanked her once before at a party. His wife, Monica, was a woman Gina particularly liked. Then there was Charles, an older man who frightened her a bit with the hungry way he looked at her. Though he had never spanked her, she had once seen him minister to a pert bottom at the same party where Gina had been spanked by Jess—and it had been quite a sight, even amazing a dedicated spanking bottom like Gina with its intensity.

  “I’d like to start with Monica, Sir,” said Gina.

  “Then go ahead,” Ronald told her. “Let the spankings begin.”

  Gina nervously walked over to the couch and lay down across both Monica’s and Jess’s laps, her face buried in the cushions. She gasped slightly as she felt Monica’s hand rest on her bottom, then travel down between her thighs. Monica took a moment to tease Gina’s pussy a little, while Gina squirmed in her grasp and whimpered. Jess’s fingertips traced a path up her calves as Monica drew her hand back.

  The first blow made Gina yelp. She pushed he
r ass in the air as Monica’s hand rose and fell, the flat of her palm bringing slapping sounds. Gina’s ass warmed quickly and Monica struck her harder. Gina’s pussy flooded as the spanking intensified, and soon she was moaning. She opened her mouth wide and bit the couch cushion hard. She lifted her ass higher and met Monica’s blows eagerly.

  “You like that?” asked Monica as Gina pushed up against her.

  “More, please,” said Gina. “More, please, Ma’am.”

  Monica complied, spanking faster and harder while Jess stroked Gina’s inner thighs. Monica paused so Jess could slide two fingers inside Gina; her cunt was molten and she moaned loudly. Jess withdrew and Monica began to spank her again, clearly excited by the ritual. Before long, however, Monica was winded.

  “Finished yet?” she asked.

  “More, please,” said Gina, pitifully. “More.”

  “Jess, it’s your turn,” said Monica.

  Gina squirmed her way down the sofa until she rested firmly over Jess’s lap, the way she had when he’d spanked her before. She could feel his cock, quite hard against her belly, and the feeling excited her. Her pussy responded with a tightness that coaxed her deeper into submission.

  Now Gina’s face was in Monica’s lap, and she could smell the sharp scent of Monica’s pussy from under the short dress she wore. Monica ran her hands through Gina’s hair and stroked her back as Jess began to spank her.

  Jess spanked her harder than Monica had, building a rhythm as Gina whimpered and moaned. When he paused to finger her cunt again after a few minutes, a drizzle of juice ran down Gina’s thigh. Monica reached down and teased Gina’s clit, which had grown swollen and firm with arousal.

  “She’s very wet,” Monica announced. “Does she come from spanking?”

  “Not at all,” said Ronald. “Perhaps that’s why she keeps asking for more.”

  “No,” said Monica, withdrawing her hand. “I think she’s just a little spanking slut. Hit her harder, Jess.”

  Jess’s strokes grew in intensity as Gina’s pert cheeks grew pinker. He moved from her ass to the backs of her thighs, which were much more sensitive. He struck them lightly at first, then harder. Gina only pushed up against him and moaned. Her ass turned a deep red; there would be bruising later, and Gina knew she would finger every bruise with pleasure.