When my husband told me he wanted to celebrate his birthday at home this year, I decided to plan something to make it extra special. So I whipped up his favorite dinner, then I served his favorite dessert — me.

I bought a special outfit for the occasion, too. Bob loves seeing my tits prominently displayed, so I found an underbust corset in his favorite color that pushed my boobs up nice and high and left them totally exposed.

When Bob got home from work that evening, I was standing in the hallway, waiting to greet him while wearing that corset. Silky thigh-highs of the same color and a pair of four-inch platform heels completed my saucy getup.

“Holy shit,” Bob exclaimed when he saw me. He slammed the door behind him and headed straight for me, making a beeline for my boobs.

“Uh, uh, uh,” I said, teasingly wagging my finger for extra emphasis. “The birthday boy needs to build up his strength first, and I made your favorite for dinner.”

“Your breasts are my favorite,” Bob answered petulantly.

“Don’t worry. You’ll have my boobs in your mouth before you know it.”

I meant it, too. Bob was about to enjoy a steak dinner — with no plate or silverware required.

I pulled out the chair at the head of our dining room table and urged Bob to take a seat. Once he was settled, I pushed forward the domed plate I’d set out moments earlier and removed its cover to reveal a perfectly cooked, thinly sliced, medium-rare steak.

When Bob reached out to take a piece, I laid my hand on his wrist to stop him and said, “Allow me.”

Careful to maintain eye contact, I lifted a piece of the warm meat and laid it over my bare breasts. I offered Bob a coquettish grin and said, “Take a bite, birthday boy.”

Thinking Bob might need some encouragement, I sat on the table in front of him and situated myself so my bare breasts were right before his eyes.

“Aren’t you hungry?” I asked.

“Fucking ravenous,” he growled.

Bob dipped his head and grazed my bare breasts with his teeth as he picked up the piece of meat.

“I don’t know what’s more delicious — your tits or this steak.”

I laid second piece of meat over my other breast and said, “Eat up.”

Bob wolfed down the meaty morsel, which was followed by another and another. Each time, his teeth scraped my skin harder and his lips lingered longer. More than once, he caught my nipple in his mouth and sucked it hard. When the juices from the meat threatened to drip into my cleavage, he dragged his tongue through the valley between my breasts.

After Bob finished his dinner, he looked up at me with adoration in his eyes and said, “I never want to eat off another plate again in my life.”

I countered, “As long as we’re at home together, you won’t have to.”

Then it was time for dessert — a course I knew we would both enjoy immensely. I trotted to the kitchen, stripped off my corset and grabbed what I needed from the fridge, then I rushed back to the dining room to get down to business.

Now completely naked, I skidded to a halt in front of Bob. I held a can of whipped cream in one hand and a bottle of chocolate syrup in the other.

“Chocolate or cream,” I asked.

“Why not both?”

“Oh, you’re greedy,” I cooed. “But you do deserve to be spoiled on your special day.”

I handed Bob the whipped cream and the syrup, then I reseated myself on the table and arched my back so my breasts were thrust in his face.

“Sweeten me up.”

“With pleasure,” he replied.

Bob popped the cap off the whipped cream and drew fluffy white lines down my torso, from my breasts to my navel. His eyes swept over my body to appreciate his handiwork.

“You look delicious.”

“Then take a taste already,” I goaded.

I’d assumed Bob would go after my breasts first, but it turns out he had some surprises up his sleeve that night, as well. Instead, he ducked down low and swirled his tongue around the edge of my navel, lapping up all the cream there. Then Bob made his way back up my belly. He traced his tongue over my tummy, sweeping up the cream that had collected there, drifting higher and higher until his nose tapped against the underside of my breast.

“Sinfully good,” Bob murmured against my skin. The stubble from his five o’clock shadow scraped against my breast, making me tingle.

There were still streaks of cream melting between my breasts. Rivulets ran down my torso.

“Let me clean that up,” Bob said.

He dropped back down to my belly button and lapped up the cream that smeared my skin. He worked quickly, catching every last bit before swooping back up to my breasts to suck up the remaining fluff.

Then Bob leaned back and said matter-of-factly, “Now, I’m in the mood for some chocolate.”

He grabbed the bottle of syrup, popped the cap and drizzled the sticky stuff all over my breasts. It ran down my body in little brown streams, striping my belly as it traveled toward my mound.

“I love chocolate,” he sighed.

Bob lapped at my breasts with cat-like flicks of his tongue. At first, he was spreading the chocolate out more than cleaning it up, covering my breasts with a thin, tacky layer of it.

“Delicious,” he murmured against my tits.

While Bob was busy smearing syrup on my breasts, runaway rivulets rolled down my belly and collected near my crotch. I felt the liquid tickling my clit, and I longed for Bob to drop to his knees and lap it up. It was maddening to feel him suckling at my breasts, while my pussy was desperate for his touch.

Somehow, he’d missed a tiny bead of chocolate that was threatening to drop to the floor from my right nipple.

Bob saw it, too. He abandoned my cleavage just long enough to catch the nipple in his mouth and suck the chocolate off. His cheeks hollowed as he drew me into his mouth before releasing the sensitive bud with a pop.

“Delectable,” he said.

I love a good compliment, but there were other things Bob’s mouth could be doing besides talking. Eager to get back to my tongue bath, I replied, “And there’s plenty more where that came from.” Then I wound my fingers through Bob’s hair and pulled him back toward my cleavage.

Bob used his lips, teeth and tongue to worship me. Licking and sucking did so much more than simply remove the chocolate from my skin — it awakened all of the nerves beneath, stimulating them until my restless energy grew so intense I squirmed wildly.

The pulsing in my pussy intensified. I locked my ankles around Bob’s back, pulling his body as close as I could against mine so my pussy connected with his torso. My wet folds slid over his skin easily, searching for friction. The coarse hair that dusted Bob’s abdomen tickled my chocolate-coated clit.

I tilted my head back on a moan. It felt so fucking good, but it wasn’t enough. That tiny tickle of my clit was little more than a tease. I needed Bob to massage the ache away. I rocked my hips, rubbing my nub against Bob’s abs. The indecent act felt divine, but I needed more to relieve the tension building between my thighs.

But Bob knew that. He pressed a kiss to my belly on his way down south. His lips and teeth dragged over me as he ate up the last remnants of the syrup that still stuck to my skin.

By the time Bob’s tongue dipped into my navel to collect the chocolate that pooled there, my body felt ready to burst into flames.

“Oh Bob,” I moaned. “Fuck me.”

He drew my clit between his lips and sucked and licked it, driving me wild.

My hips hitched, and my thighs clenched around the side of Bob’s head, holding him tight. My body seemed hell-bent on keeping hold of him until he made me come.

Another round of sucking and licking made me lose my damn mind. My toes curled, and my hips jerked. Everything felt tight and tingly and wonderful as I climaxed.

Once I’d caught my breath and my thighs stopped trembling, I loosened my grip on Bob. He looked up at me with a smile on his face.

He placed a soft kiss on the inside of my thigh before standing to plant another on my lips and say, “You amaze me.”

I reached between us and grabbed hold of his belt buckle as I purred, “We’re not done yet.”

I unfastened his belt, popped the button on his slacks and dropped the zipper in record time, then Bob’s erection took care of the rest. It burst out of his boxer briefs and pointed right at me. The velvety skin of his shaft was soft beneath my fingers as I took Bob in my fist and guided him into my pussy.

That’s when my man took over. He pistoned his dick into me, setting a punishing pace that made the plates on the table rattle around us. Bob fucked me hard and fast, not stopping until I screamed his name at the top of my lungs.

Seconds from exploding himself, Bob pulled out and pumped himself with his fist until thick semen spurted from his cock and splattered across my stomach, bathing me in yet another sticky liquid.