Happy Birthday (by Unknown Author)

        There’s a knock at the door. It’s fairly late and you’re not expecting anyone. In fact, you’ve settled down for the night in front of Sex in the City with a tub of chocolate ice cream. Can life get any better than this? But now someone is here to spoil it all. Probably someone come to wish you happy birthday when you’d rather just forget all about it and lose yourself in a litre of Hagen Daz.You open the door with the chain still on and slam it shut again. This has got to be someone’s idea of a joke! After a few seconds you open up again, just a crack. The JDBlookalike in a sailor suit smiles a bit sheepishly and mumbles, “Singing telegram... your friends from the message board sent me, they said it was your birthday”. You don’t know whether to laugh or die of embarrassment. You open the door a little wider. “So what are you going to sing?”
“I thought I’d stick with the classic,” he mutters in the direction of his boots. Shaking your head you decide to let him in before the neighbours start to appear. He really does look like a lot James, it’s uncanny. He also looks extremely uncomfortable. He clears his throat and takes a great interest in your ceiling, while you stand waiting with your arms wrapped around your ice cream tub in the middle of your kitchen. Maybe it was a mistake letting this guy in, you don’t know him from Adam. Then he finally looks you in the eye and your stomach hits the floor. You don’t know how they did it, but you actually have James Dean Bradfield standing in your kitchen!!!
     He starts to sing quite softly “Happy Birthday to you”, never taking his eyes off yours. “Happy Birthday to you” he takes a step closer. “Happy Birthday dear............”you take several steps back, and bump into the table. “Happy birthday to you”. He’s standing just inches in front of you and you’re finding it quite difficult to breathe. He leans in and places his hands on the table on either side of you and murmurs in your ear. “This is a full-service telegram”, gently rubbing against your cheek, ear, neck. His lips graze along your jaw line and work their way up to yours. Unfortunately your mouth is hanging open in disbelief. He starts to chuckle. “You’re not really shocked are you? Your friends are very resourceful… and you’re definitely worth it.” He turns his attention back to your mouth, nipping gently at your bottom lip. Taking the ice-cream tub out of your hands, whispering “We’ll need that later”, he lifts you onto the table, pulls open your bathrobe and you wrap your legs around his waist. His erection is already straining against your crotch, and you both instinctively start to rub against each other, kissing as if your life depended on it! He breaks off abruptly and takes a step back. “Wait,” he says a little breathlessly “it’s your birthday. What do you want?”
“I want youuuu!” you howl, pulling him in again.
“No,” he says patiently, and pushes his finger into your mouth, stroking your tongue, before running it down the length of your body, finding your clit and deftly rubbing you (the right way BABY). “I mean, what do you REALLY want?” You fall back on to the table and completely give in to the feelings rushing over you. He leans over you, pinning your arms above your head, “If you don’t tell me I’ll just do what I want” and starts to lick. Starting at your neck, down to your breasts and teasing your nipples until you gasp out loud. Moving down to your belly, he pauses, takes a spoonful of ice-cream and dollops it into your navel. You scream and flinch, but he just holds you tighter, and chases the ice cream around with his tongue, up your belly and back to your breasts, licking and sucking until it’s disappeared. It’s freezing, exquisite agony and you’re begging him never to stop when that’s exactly what he does. You open your mouth to complain (yes really), but all that comes out is a groan of desire as his head dips into your lap and he slides his cold tongue into your cunt and firmly over your clit until you’re screaming in ecstasy, your hands tangled in his hair. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhgoooooddddddddd. Something pops into what’s left of the mush that used to be your brain. He’s still dressed. “I want you naked” you manage to say struggling up on to your elbows. James stops in his tracks. “What???”
“I want to see you naked” “Oh, ummmmm…”
“It’s my birthday James”.
“Errrr, yes it is”.
“It’s what I REALLY want”. He stands up straight, “Right then” and slowly starts to peel off his shirt, blushing slightly under your gaze. “This wasn’t supposed to be a strip-a-gram,” he grumbles good-naturedly, “I’m very shy y’know!” and you almost choke trying not to laugh. As he starts to undo his pants he looks up at you again, and a wicked smile appears on his face “You’re in for such a f**king once I’m naked!”, pushes his pants down over his hips, and your mouth drops open one more time!!!