She zipped up her dress, with much difficulty, bouncing around with both hands behind her back. As it finally zipped, she huffed, distraught from the challenge of zipping a dress by herself. If she hadn’t been wearing what she was under it, this wouldn’t have been a problem, but it was all part of her master plan. She grumbled her way into the kitchen, smoothing out the black material and turning the dial on the stove, boiling the water for her pasta.
Her hazel glance slid to the table, which was set nicely for a dinner for two, a couple of candles already lit and flickering in the dim light of the dining room. It was his birthday, and she wanted it to be perfect for him. Sitting on his designated chair was a large box, wrapped pristinely, with a bow at the top. It was addressed to ‘my love.’ She smiled at the thought, stirring the sauce, thinking back on all of the gifts she had struggled to gather for him tonight.
It had taken her weeks, searching for the right items, handwriting things, getting herself sized… But it had all been worth it. He would be home any minute, and just in time; she was almost done with dinner.
As she readied their plates, food hot and steaming, he walked through the door. “Wow. It smells really good in here. What are you cooking, love?”
“Your Birthday dinner,” she replied with a smile, pouring two glasses of wine.
“You didn’t have to do—oh my.”
She turned around to look at him, assuming guiltlessness in her frame hugging dress that was generous with cleavage and slightly on the short side. The black contrasted well with her milky skin, which had been recently lotion-ed up for a satin feel, another small prize for her lover. “What is it, darling?”
He gave her a look. “That’s quite the dress.” He slid off his jacket, untying his tie as well.
She shrugged, secretly pleased with his reaction. “I dress for the occasion.”
After unbuttoning the first of his buttons to breathe, he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her cheek. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
“It’s the least I could do,” she smiled, untangling herself from him and setting the plates on the table, flicking the light off on the way, and then followed by him setting down the glasses of wine. “Happy Birthday, dear.”
He returned her smile and gave her a quick kiss. “Thank you,” he said again.
They enjoyed their dinner, chatting about his day and other general small talk, but his eyes curiously glanced at the present that had been put aside for them to eat dinner. He absentmindedly wondered why the box was so big, and what on Earth could be in it.
As dinner came to an end, she gingerly sipped at the wine, getting antsy for all of the gifts to come together. “Dinner was delicious,” he told her, knowing it was a bit of a struggle for her to cook things.
“It was my pleasure.”
“How about those gifts, love?”
She smiled, placing the box in front of him. “Open up!”
He untied the bow, briefly smiling at the label. “You’re so cute,” he told her.
She rolled her eyes. “Just open it already.”
Chuckling, he unwrapped it, and opened the box. The first layer was made up of geeky merchandise she had gotten for him, a cool Buffy shirt, some key chains, a movie poster and the likes. The second layer consisted of at least a hundred envelopes, labeled for opening on certain dates. The last and third layer had a handwritten card expressing her love, and another, small box wrapped in paper.
He picked it up and gave it a curious look. “What’s this?”
“You can open that when we’re finished with our movie,” she smirked, dragging him to the couch to cuddle with their movie.
She tucked her legs up under her, leaning into him as they watched, but they weren’t really paying attention. He wondered endlessly about what could be in that little box, while she anticipated the end of the movie, growing excited but very nervous. Her heart beat wildly against her chest, blood roaring in her ears as she planned out every move she could possibly make in her head.
He noticed her anxiety and lifted her chin. “What’s wrong, love?”
She forced herself to calm down on the inside and smiled. “Nothing. Just overly excited for the rest of the night.”
Something shifted between them. The air became thick and warm, a distinct force pulling them together. Emotions stirred in them, starting in their chests and finding lower parts to excite with the moment. He cupped her cheek lightly, bringing her face to his, barely brushing his lips against hers. She, however, was hungry, and pressed her mouth on his with power, longing flowing off of her in waves. He had no objections and wrapped himself around her, engulfing her in passion and lust—but mostly, love.
The movie ended, credits rolling, but they paid no attention; the only attention they were paying was to each other’s bodies. His hands caressed her smooth legs, brushing the cleavage that threatened to spill out, even reaching as far as unzipping her dress, but no further. She was just as busy, teasing from under his shirt, lips still connected.
They finally pulled apart and he eyed the box. “Can I open it now?”
She got up, pausing at the bedroom door. “Be my guest.”
When he did, he was surprised to find a bottle of massage oil. “And what might this be for?”
She was glad for him unzipping her dress, and she slipped out of it, revealing the bright green and ebony lingerie piece she was wearing under it, adorned by zippers and ties and lace and buckles. “That’s for the bedroom, sweetheart. I thought we might have a little…fun?”
He glanced at the bottle, glanced back up at her and she knew she was goner that night, she knew she’d be lost in pleasure. But not before she had inflicted some of her own.
