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The Birthday Present

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A novel use for chocolate mousse

“So, what shall we get Kate for her birthday?” Jennifer asked her husband over breakfast.

“Oh, the usual: a box of those Belgian chocolate truffles she likes and a card,” he replied airily, without putting down his Sunday newspaper. “Your sister’s always been a chocoholic.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Barry!”

The paper was lowered. “How come?”

“Because, my dear, next Friday happens to be my sister’s ‘Big Five O’. Don’t say you haven’t heard her moaning about it for months?”

He snorted derisively and returned to his reading. “Can’t see what all the fuss is about. Mine went by without any special celebrations.”

“It’s alright for you blokes, but for women it’s a major milestone. Many of my friends consider they’re over the hill when they turn 50, certainly as far as sex is concerned. And what with Kate being divorced, I dare say she’ll be thinking the same way.”

“There’s always the internet.”

“For porn or for dating?”


After a pause, Jennifer confided: “I know she visits some sites to chat with guys, but I honestly couldn’t see her ever arranging to meet anyone.”

Her husband lowered his newspaper once more, as the conversation seemed to have taken an interesting turn. “Why ever not?”

“Well, from what I’ve read – mainly in women’s magazines – there are an awful lot of predatory weirdos out there. And don’t forget she lives on her own.”

“Couldn’t you do a bit of… match-making, Jen?”

“Where am I going to conjure up an eligible male by next Friday?”

“What about that dishy fitness instructor at the health centre you both go to? You’re always going on about how attractive he is.”

“Matt? He’s gay.”

Silence descended on the kitchen as they both considered various options for entrapping a likely man that sister Kate might spend the night with celebrating her big birthday.

As she poured her husband’s second cup of coffee, Jennifer Lewis gave a big grin. “I’ve GOT it! Why didn’t I think of it before? The solution, my dear, is staring me in the face!”

“It is? Well, would you care to share this pearl of wisdom?”


“What about me?”

“YOU! You can be Kate’s special birthday present - but only for one night!”

He sipped his coffee thoughtfully. The suggestion certainly had merit as he’d always fancied Jennifer’s sister, particularly her trim hips and shapely legs, which were usually clad with tantalising black stockings. Memories of the American dancer Cyd Charisse often flashed through Barry’s mind when he saw Kate cross her long stockinged legs. He was abruptly dragged from his sexual reverie by his wife: “Well, what do you think?”

Diplomatically, he felt he should play hard to get. He slowly shook his head. “I’m not sure it’s… such a good idea, Jen.”

“Why ever not? A one-night stand. WITH your wife’s approval. Give her a really good seeing-to!” Jennifer had suddenly become uncharacteristically course.

“You wouldn’t be jealous?”

“Not so long as it’s JUST a one-night stand.” With a sly giggle she added: “I’d probably be very upset if you kept popping round there to fuck her!”

“So a one-night stand next Friday gets your ‘green light’?


The scene was set and within 24 hours Jen had tactfully outlined the plan to her sister.

“What will you be wearing for your chivalrous night out?” Jennifer asked Barry.

“My grey pin-stripe suit?”

“Idiot! You’re not going to the golf club’s AGM! You’re going to give my sister a seeing-to she’ll remember.”

He shrugged. “Ok. Point taken. How about my pale blue chinos and that Hawaiian beach shirt you bought me in Florida?”

“Now you’re talking. And don’t go easy on the after shave!”

That evening, Jennifer fussed around her husband like a mother hen as he prepared for his special birthday night out with her sister. They pecked each other affectionately on the cheek and he set off to walk the quarter mile to sister Kate’s bungalow, carrying a bottle of champagne and the Belgian truffles.

She greeted him at the door enthusiastically, looking stunning in a figure-hugging gold lamé one-piece, with a heavily-scooped bodice. Barry suddenly realised (even on the doorstep) that as well as dreaming about Kate’s stocking-clad legs, he’d long harboured carnal desires about his sister-in-law’s breasts. Her overpowering perfume was more than a match for his after shave.

“Come on in. I’d chilled some Chardonnay, but that looks far more interesting.” She took him by the hand and led him into the lounge. “I’ve made us some nibbles.”

Relaxed, sitting close together on the sofa beside the log fire and with most of the champagne already consumed, it didn’t seem to either of them that there were any major hurdles which had to be overcome. Kate went first: “Shall we go into my bedroom or stay here?”

“It’s your birthday, so you choose.”

Slipping the top of her dress down to expose her breasts and unzipping the flies of his slacks, she whispered: “Let’s do it here.”

“Good choice. And what would madam like to order first?”

“Well, since you ask, I’ve always had a penchant for titty-fucking. I love the way I can watch the guy’s stiff cock while he’s doing it - and the ending can be very sexy.”

“And a bit messy.”

She reached behind one of the sofa’s cushions. “I brought a towel.”

She slipped the top half of her dress down and took one of his hands to allow him to stroke her breasts. “Then for Round Two – that’s if you’re up for it, of course,” she added with a giggle, “I’d really like you to eat me ‘down there’. Very slowly.” Barry could think of nothing nicer than having his head buried between this woman’s moist thighs.

“May I be permitted to suggest the final course – the dessert, so to speak?”

“Suggest away.”

“Well… when I’ve given you a lovely slow tonguing, you’ll be nice and wet for me to slip inside your quim. Jennifer’s bound to ask me tomorrow if I fucked you.”

“Excellent suggestion, if I may say so.” She reached across to pour them the final dregs of the champagne and stood up to slip out of her dress. Then she lay along the sofa to permit Barry to straddle her torso and commence titty-fucking her. His cock sat snugly between her small breasts, which she obligingly bunched together around his shaft. His orgasm was silent and copious, with four or five ropes of thick creamy semen coating the nape of her neck.

“Mmmm… how thoughtful of you, Mr Lewis: giving a woman a pearl necklace for her birthday!”

She slipped into the kitchen, returning with the chilled white wine and a small dark brown carton and a teaspoon, which she placed on the arm of the sofa beside him.

“What’s this for?”

“Well, you described our final session as ‘dessert’. So, I thought as we seem to have forgotten about the supper I’d prepared, let’s at least make use of the pudding!” The top of the carton was labelled: ‘Dark chocolate mousse’.

Naked Kate filled their glasses, spread the cum-stained towel along the sofa to form a blanket and took up a sitting position, with her legs spread open invitingly. Barry was quickly on his knees in front of her, eagerly tonguing her slit and clitoris. She clasped his shoulders tightly as she orgasmed for the first time. There were to be several more, always accompanied by soft moans.

Eventually he had to come up for air, sated with her delicious juices. Her head now hung backwards, rested on the back of the sofa, eyes closed with a big smile “Fucking hell, you certainly know all the right spots, don’t you?” she purred. “Why not put the chocolate mousse in me now, sweetie - it should go beautifully mixed with my home-made cream!”

As they had both expected, Round Three turned out to be the messiest course of the evening’s repast, with Barry sliding inside Kate’s cunnie well lubricated by chocolate mousse before eventually managing a glorious second orgasm.

After a long pause, Kate who broke the silence. “Ever done face-sitting, Barry?”









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