Birthday Girl
by Arty

Friday opened the box. Inside were three objects: A piece of
birthday cake with the words 'Eat Me' picked out in icing
(frosting?), a small bottle labelled 'Drink Me', and a long
thin object labelled 'Use Your Imagination!' 

Friday looked up, sighed, picked up the cake and took a
bite. It was so light in texture that it seemed to evaporate
on her tongue. And the taste! The taste was just exquisite!
Friday looked at the cake again; it was lovely but she
didn't see what all the... 

"Oh my God!" Friday was unable to stifle the involuntary
exclamation as she felt herself being assaulted by the
feeling of several tongues licking simultaneously at her
clitoris, her pussy and her anus! Her legs collapsed beneath
her and she sprawled backwards into a convenient reclining
chair. The sensations intensified and she felt herself tip
over the precipice into one of the most satisfying orgasms
that she had ever had. When she eventually recovered her
senses she looked at the piece of cake in awe and she almost
took another mouthful. 'Later', she told herself forcefully.
There were still two other items in the box! 

With a supreme effort she dragged herself out of the chair
and back to the table. She took the little bottle out of the
box and then returned to the chair. She sat down and looked
at the bottle again. The label said 'Drink Me' and then she
noticed a line of fine print. 'Sit on a towel; actually, sit
on two towels - love Arty.' Since she had been putting
bathroom linen away when the box was delivered, luckily
there were several towels to hand so she did as her Author
bid and sat on a couple of towels. With some trepidation she
took a small sip from the bottle. 

The taste of honey and chocolate and all of her favourite
things assailed her taste buds, separately and in
combinations that she would never ordinarily have tried but
which seemed strangely satisfying. This stuff was worth
drinking for the taste alone, whatever other properties it
might have... 

"Oh God! Oh God! Oh…" Her exclamations tailed off into
incoherent cries as she felt herself assaulted once more
with tongues and teeth and…. Oh God! Fingers everywhere and
then ... feathers; tickling, stroking, nibbling and licking
driving her insane with lust but never quite taking her over
the edge. And then, just when she thought that she would
lose her mind forever the sensations intensified and
continued driving her to higher and higher levels of arousal
until she seemed to be cumming and cumming and cumming
without end. 

She opened her eyes and yawned. 'God! What a dream! She'd
have to tell Arty…' her thought was cut off midstream as she
realised that she was sitting on a towel in the reclining
chair. It hadn't been a dream, well it had, but she knew
what she meant. That meant there was still the third thing
to try. As she dragged herself out of the chair and over to
the table Friday realised that the towel was soaked. She
lifted it to her nose with some trepidation but all she
could smell was the scent of her arousal. Christ how long
had he been cumming, to make the towel that wet? 

The note on the dildo had some fine print, 'Go to bed - Love
Arty'. 

Always do as your Author tells you. Is the first principle
of a Muse's existence* [*I can dream can't I? LOL!] So
Friday made her way back to her bed. She would have need to
anyway after the cake and the drink. 'Use your imagination.'
It didn't take much imagination, non- penetrative sex was
fine, but in the end there was no substitute for a good,
old-fashioned fuck. She slid the dildo into her pussy; there
was so much lubrication that there was almost no resistance.
She groaned as she felt the fullness; so good after so much
arousal. Suddenly the dildo started to move of its own
volition. 

Friday smiled to herself. Arty was so considerate ... and
then further coherent thought was lost to her as she felt
the strokes speed up and become deeper and more
authoritative. She closed her eyes and revelled in the
sensations that the dildo was providing. It was amazing she
could almost feel the weight of another body on her and
between her legs; it felt so real that she opened her eyes.
A pair of hazel eyes stared into hers. 

"Many Happy Returns, my Birthday Muse." And then Arty had no
breath for more as he prepared to deliver the last part of
his birthday present to her. 

-Fin- 

-- 
http://www.asstr.org/~arty