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Imagine paying $20,000 to rent out a 9,000 square foot mansion in Beverly Hills, California for one night to celebrate the 25th birthday of your fiancé, Chris, alongside his closest relatives and friends. There’s black and silver decorations everywhere, a DJ, cocktail waitresses, a chef and classy go-go dancers to say the least. He’s feasting on appetizers and conversing with the guys from OHB crew and he seems super ecstatic for the way everything has come together. His dark brown oculus scans the gifts stacked on the table beside a large tray of appetizers and he’s so delighted he can barely hold back for another second. He has to know what’s inside these wrapped boxes, so he picks up the first gift in arms reach — that just happens to be yours to him — and his fingers hastily rips open the rectangular box. It’s a Versace sweater he has seen on the runaway and has declared his covet for the article of clothing that’s going to be released next season, but somehow, you managed to persuade the designer backstage after the fashion show. “Damn baby, you hooked a nigga up with this for real. I don’t know how anybody else gon’ top this.” He states pleasantly and you smirk, then connect a hand to the nape of his neck to propel his head down to your level. “And this is just the beginning.” You whisper seductively causing the corner of his lips to upturn in a smirk. Then you rotate to give a signal to DJ Baby Drew for him to switch the song to an upbeat tempo record, and that’s when a group of five go-go dancers comes walking down a staircase clad in provocative outfits and struts sexily to Chris, escorts him to an empty chair and dances on him. A broad smile taking over his features as he sits back to relax and enjoy the best lap dance he’s probably had in his life, and you’re the least bit of jealous. Tonight is his night and you’ll be taking care of him when everything is said and done. So when the music comes to a complete stop, it’s time for everyone to sing happy birthday and you drag him to the kitchen as the chef brings out his birthday cake and sticks candles on the cake and lights a flame to each. Half vanilla, half red velvet cake, it’s five tier and it’s so delicious-looking. There are swirls of whip cream on top of the cake, sliced strawberries, and a cherry on the center. He’s so tipsy, he begins to join in and sing the birthday anthem as he picks up the knife and cuts into the cake and licks the icing off his thumb. “Yo this tastes good, thanks babe.” He leans down to plant a kiss to your temple, picks up the cake with his hand to lift up to his mouth to take a bite then he tries to feed you. “Chris… no. Stop it, you’re gonna ruin my dress.” You take steps backwards to get away from him and he follows you into the empty dining room. “C'mon Y/N-N just open up your mouth and taste it, it’s real good girl." And when you shake your head to politely refuse again, he extends his hand down to your face, clashes the dessert on the outside of your mouth and smears icing on your lips and cheek causing the piece of cake to accidentally fall onto your cleavage. "My bad, I ain’t eein’ mean…” “Shut up, you’re lucky it’s your birthday and I love you or else I’d kick your ass.” You state, pushing his chest away and he snickers then lifts a hand to the wall to corner your body against the flat surface. And instead of going to grab a napkin to clean up the tiny mess, he descends his mouth down to your cleavage and eats the dessert off your breasts and you squeal. “How about we wait for everyone to leave?” You whisper and he stands up straight and shakes his head. He’s still horny from earlier when he beat off his morning wood in the shower. “Man fuck that, I’m sure they know I’m about to get some birthday sex and it’s almost midnight so they about to leave and get the fuck outta here anyways; plus you owe me, bae.” Chris convinces. He immediately moves his fingers on the zipper of the front of your dress and unzips it down to your navel as he continues his mouth to your cleavage and swirls his tongue on your breasts until every spot of icing is cleaned off. “…Had this dick waitin’ all day for his gift.” He states gloomily and you smile evilly for CJ being so impatient and upset with you for the whole day. “I’m sorry baby I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” You whisper seductively up against Chris’ mouth, tugs his plump bottom lip intermediate the space of the rows of your teeth and sucks down hard. Then surfs a hand into his soft curls, tangles up your blue polished fingertips and gives his hair occasional tugs, subsequently travels the other hand south to the hem of his denim jeans to pop open the button and drags the zipper and toys the elastic band on his briefs. He lowers himself down to your level, hooks his hands beneath your thighs to pick you up and your legs lock over his waist as he conveys your body to a bedroom. Your fiancé gently sets your body down on the center of the bed and tips his chin to attach his plump lips to your glossy lips as he spreads your legs wider for him lie down in the middle of your thighs. You reach for his thick member inside his dark denim jeans and strokes the base, then he moves his hands to your bare thigh, up the material of your dress and travels his fingers to your soft flower and aggressively massages your clitoris through your panties. You clasp onto the back of his t-shirt and fists the material as you tilt your head backwards and moans inside his ear. “Oh… Yes… Happy birthday Chris.”
