I was a political junkie before I could speak. Or thereabouts. I was half-nerd, half-savant.

“Make a wish!” guests cried out when the birthday cake arrived. The flickering candles created the number 35 right in the center.

Kent took a deep breath and then let it loose. The candles wavered and went out. My boyfriend’s got lungs on him.

“I wonder what he wished for,” Susan whispered to me.

I thought I knew, but I bit my tongue. No need to share Kent’s fetishes with his coworkers. Anyway, you usually don’t share wishes. But I knew in my heart that one particular desire of his was going to come true before Kent turned 35-and-a-day.

There were so many presents on the table at the end of the party that my man couldn’t keep track of them. I helped him haul the loot to our apartment, and it was easy to add a secret present to the mix.

“I can believe it’s my 35th,” he said as I helped him lug the boxes and bags. “People went a little over the top.”

“Nothing wrong with presents,” I said. He’d received a baseball jersey with his last name and favorite number, a lava lamp from a nostalgic friend, and assorted gear for his various sporty activities. As I set my own armful down, he asked, “What’s that?”

On the top of the pile was one last unopened gift. The box was wrapped in shiny silver paper and tied with a black velvet bow.

“Oh, that,” I said coyly. “Well, that one’s from me. I thought you’d want to open it privately.”

“Baby, you didn’t have to get me anything else. The party was enough. More than enough.” Even as he said the words, his brown eyes lit up. My presents to Kent are generally sexy, and he would know I hadn’t given him the gift in front of his friends for a reason.

Yes, I’d planned the shindig at our local hangout, invited all of Kent’s nearest and dearest. Now, I wanted to get a little nearer to my dear… nearer to his rear, in fact.

I could feel myself growing excited — well, more excited. All evening I’d been on edge, happy that Kent was enjoying his party, but growing more desperate by the minute to wrap up the event and move on to our own private unwrapping celebration. I shifted my weight from one high heel to the other, as antsy as if the present was for me instead of him. In a way, it was.

“Do I open it now?” he asked, shaking the box. I’d nestled the contents in layers of pink tissue paper. I didn’t think he could guess from the muffled sound what the box contained.

“You better,” I said. “If you don’t, I will.”

“Please me with your tongue. Give me the best orgasm I’ve ever had.”

He shot me a curious look, then sat down on the sofa and tore off the shimmery paper. Would he like what I’d selected? I’d gone to some work to purchase an item I felt was perfect. He’d told me once about his most treasured fantasy, but that had been a long time ago. The erotic confession had taken place during one of those moments of utter nakedness. In fact, we had been naked, the two of us in bed together, sweaty and sticky from what we’d just done. He’d fucked my ass that night, and I’d been in a state of swooning bliss. We were both thoroughly relaxed, speaking with no filters. I was still damp all over and limp with sweet satisfaction when he’d told me what he really wanted was to experience the same thing, to be fucked up the ass. By me. With a strap-on.

It had been one of those hushed conversations that occur between partners in the wee hours. I wasn’t sure how he’d actually receive the gift in the bright lights of our living room. How he’d react…

“Oh, fuck,” he said, and I looked at his face. His eyes were wide. He bit his lower lip and looked back in the box. Inside, nestled within the abundant pink tissue, lay a black harness and a long blue strap-on dildo.

Oh, yeah — and a bottle of lube.

He didn’t say, “You shouldn’t have,” the way people do sometimes when they receive an unwanted gift. He didn’t say, “I didn’t mean those things I told you.” He said, “Oh, fuck,” again, and I saw that his hands were trembling ever so slightly. Kent’s a big, tough guy, but he was obviously a little nervous about what we were going to do. Then he shifted on the sofa, shifted as if his growing hard-on was making sitting a little awkward. I took that as a sign that he was excited, which pleased me. I’d been lit up all evening, and I hadn’t been able to let him in on my secret. Through the dinner and what felt to me like endless toasts, through the cutting of the cake, the only thing I’d been able to think of was the two of us — playing in this way.

Yes, we’d done anal before, with me as the ready and willing receptor. And yes, I’d teased his asshole with my fingers every so often, and once or twice with my tongue, a sensation which he seemed to adore. We’d watched videos — dirty, sexy videos — in which sultry-looking women took charge of their men’s pleasure by traveling through their back channels with a variety of toys. But this was different — totally different. We were about to head into uncharted territory.

“You wouldn’t mind,” he stammered. “I mean, you’d be fine… ”

“Strip,” I said, and Kent gave me this look that let me know we weren’t only on the same page of the same book, we were on the same line. In fact, I think we were on the same word. “Strip,” I repeated, and there was a sudden strength to my tone that I almost didn’t recognize. “Strip for me, baby. Strip all the way down to your… ” Need I say it? Dare I say it? I did. I dared. “Strip all the way down to your birthday suit,” I commanded.

Kent blushed. I beamed.

He stood and unfastened the buttons on the black shirt he was wearing. Then he undid his belt, lost his shoes, his socks, and his dark indigo jeans. In what felt like a heartbeat, a mere blip of time, he was as naked as I’d asked. Naked and awaiting my next instruction. I liked the way this felt. I was in charge; Kent wanted me to be in charge. I put my shoulders back and strode forward. Even though the gift was for Kent — it might as well have had his name written on the side — I was the one who was going to use it. Use it on him. In him.

But not here.

“Let’s go to the bedroom,” I said. My voice had a kind of hushed elegance to it. I’d never heard myself sound so domineering before. I wondered what Kent thought of the new me. Then I looked between his legs and won my answer. He was as hard as wood, his lovely dick dripping a beautiful dollop of pre-come. I would have smiled, but I felt that showing my appreciation at this point wasn’t the way the new me should behave. Instead, I curtly nodded, and I waited to see what would happen.

Kent started to walk to the bedroom.

That made sense, as I’d just told him to do so. Except, I hadn’t. Not really. I’d said, “Let’s go to the bedroom.” Did he think that I meant as equals? I smacked him once on his gorgeous ass, and he understood immediately. To my delight, he dropped to his hands and knees and crawled the rest of the way to the master bedroom.

Hmmm. That was a misnomer. Tonight, it was going to be the Mistress’s Bedroom. But I didn’t think Kent needed the reminder. He crawled all the way into our room and then looked up at me, obviously waiting for my next instruction. I took my time, deciding exactly how I wanted to begin — since I knew deep in my heart exactly how we were going to end. In his end. To start, however, I realized I wanted him to show me some appreciation, the type of appreciation proper for a sub to show his domme.

“Kiss my feet,” I said.

Kent didn’t hesitate for a second. He came to my side and began to kiss my toes, even lick them. I was glad I’d worn my red patent-leather shoes, the ones with spiked heels and peep toes. While he worshipped my feet, I wondered why we had never done something like this before. It seemed so totally natural to have him bestowing kisses upon my tootsies. He looked perfect in his supplicant position. I felt desire welling inside me. I wanted to make him do more.

“Undress me,” I said next.

He had me move to the bed, and I sat on the edge while he removed my shoes. Then he undid the row of tiny buttons on my dress and pulled the jersey from my body. I was in a matching bra-and-panty set — black with red hearts. He unfastened the clasp of my bra and reverently removed the scrap of fabric, revealing my small, firm tits. The panties came off last. He pulled them down my slim thighs and over my knees, and then he hesitated and breathed in deep.

I was so turned on. Could he smell the delicate aroma of my pussy? That scent definitely gave my arousal away. I wondered if he would take an action I hadn’t approved. Then I wondered what my own reaction would be. I was bordering on desperate to feel his tongue between my legs. Yet even though we’d never played like this before, I sensed that he knew better than to lick me without my permission.

The panties continued downward. Over my shins, over my ankles, and off totally. That’s when Kent broke and gave in to his own desires. He brought my knickers to his face and breathed in deeply. I was on him in an instant. “There will be none of that!” I barked. “You’re taking orders from me tonight. You don’t get to choose.”

He dropped the panties with a sheepish look on his face. I had to bite the insides of my cheeks to keep myself from smiling.

“Show me how much you want to feel my cock in your ass,” I instructed. “Please me with your tongue. Give me the best orgasm I’ve ever had. If you do a good job, I promise that I’ll give you what you most crave. If not… ”

I let the threat hang in the air. He could fill in that blank himself. I was fairly sure that simply the idea of not getting what he wanted would keep my man in line.

Kent wasted no time moving me back on the bed and situating himself between my legs. I had instant thoughts of the future. I’d go back to the toy store and buy more items for us to play with. Maybe a nice fat butt plug for his ass. Then, when he licked my split, I could reach down and twirl the base of the toy so he’d feel the pressure spiral inside him. My cunt contracted. Maybe we’d get matching butt plugs, and we’d wear them at the same time. I felt the pleasure building. Kent’s tongue is always a treat. He knows how to make all the special designs and patterns I crave. Tonight was something else. He had one hand in place, strumming along my outer petals, while his lips created a ring around my clit and he applied the most delicious amount of pressure.

It didn’t take very long for me to feel the climax building inside me to a bursting point. “I’m going to come,” I announced with a deep, passionate sigh. “Oh, Jesus, Kent. Your tongue is so good!”

He didn’t stop, but he made a soft noise against me. Had he said “thank you"? I didn’t know, couldn’t tell, but the added throb of the vibration against me sent me fully over the edge. I started to quake, coming hard, pressing my box to his face and shifting my hips to make sure his lips and cheeks were all glossy with the evidence of my pleasure. Kent stayed with me until my orgasm had completely subsided. Then he settled back on the edge of the mattress and looked at me with unbridled yearning in his eyes. I knew what he wanted. He knew what he wanted. And he knew better than to ask. Good boy, I thought to myself as I stood and retrieved the harness and dildo. Good, sweet, well-behaved boy.

“It’s time for your real birthday present, Get the lube.”

“It’s time for your real birthday present,” I announced. “Get the lube.”

I’d never said those words before. I liked the way they sounded. Kent almost leaped to where I’d left the lube. He thrust the bottle into my hand. I couldn’t help myself now. I smiled at him. He was so damn eager, so willing to please. We were going to have fun. I could sense it.

It was now my turn to fully slip into my character. This evening, without a doubt, I was top dog. While Kent watched with hungry, hungry eyes, I lifted the harness and attached the device. I’d manhandled the thing at the sex toy store, but I’d never actually fastened all the intricate buckles before. I instantly adored the way the harness hugged me, the way the dildo hung — or, rather, sprung — from between my legs as if it were an actual cock.

For a moment, I appreciated how I must look simply by basking in the glow of Kent’s adoring gaze. Then I turned to take in the full effect of my transformation in the gilded oval mirror over our dresser.

Why yes, this new me was divine. I could feel the power flickering through my entire body. That’s what having a cock did to me. I wanted to pillage, to fuck Kent quickly, to ride him all the way to the finish line.

Slow down, a little voice inside me whispered. Take things bit by bit. This was a momentous occasion for the two of us. There was no need to rush. Later, we could go as fast as we wanted. For this birthday event, I would travel as slowly as Kent needed me to.

“Bend over the bed,” I said, and I watched as he moved gingerly into place. It was clear that his cock was fully hard. He maneuvered carefully so that his ass was raised and his thighs were spread. He was giving me the best access possible to his hole. He knew where the lube was going.

I slickened my fingers with a generous amount of the greasy stuff and then probed between Kent’s taut ass cheeks. He had been well behaved up until that point. But when the tips of my fingers met his snug back hole, he groaned. I probed him with my middle finger, inserting the tip into his tight orifice. He bucked and groaned again, even louder this time.

“Don’t get off yet,” I told him. “This is only the beginning.”

He seemed to grow entirely still then, as if he was constricting every single muscle in his handsome body. I made sure to apply a liberal amount the lube, and then I added more of the gloss to my palm and jacked my cock.

Oh, my cock, my handsome cock. I’d chosen correctly at the toy store. From their array of assorted dildos, I had selected one that was sleek yet still strong. More than a mouthful, less than a mile. Reaching for the untapped power within me, I closed my eyes briefly. Then I opened them once more, held my man by the hips, and let him feel the freedom of submitting.

“Do you like that?” I asked him as his cheeks widened and parted. “Do you like feeling my dick slipping into your ass?”

His first answer was a muffled mumble. Was he biting the sheets? No, he had his face pressed against the mattress, and he was holding on to our bedspread with both hands.

“What was that?” I demanded. “What did you say?”

“Yes!” He nearly shouted this time. “I like that! Give me more, please!”

I let him feel a little bit more of the toy inside him. I’m no virgin to anal, but I like things to start slow and then build. Following my own roadmap of desires, I performed for Kent. I inched my way into his tight ass, and then, as an added bonus, I slid one hand under his body and began to stroke his dick. The results were instantaneous. He’d been tightly wound, all tensed up. Once my fist gripped his joint, he began to relax. I actually felt him accepting more of my dildo into his body. I knew the lube was making the ride easier. So I pulled out and re-applied the stuff. Then I resumed the journey, and this time Kent lost his inhibitions and began to tell me what to do, what he needed.

Perhaps in the future we’d stick more closely to our domme/sub roles. But for his birthday, I gave him precisely what he craved.

“Faster!” he begged me. “Harder!”

I started to fuck him like an engine, with my cock as the piston. I fucked him as fast as he wanted, as hard as he needed. I felt a second orgasm building inside me, the pressure from the base of the dildo taking me where I needed to go, but I forced myself to hold on, to hold out. This was Kent’s big day — or big night — and he deserved every last bit of his birthday extravaganza.

In and out I went, banging him like a pro, aware of the way the muscles in his back seemed to ripple, the way his biceps bulged as he fisted the comforter. His cock throbbed against my palm as I practically milked him in time to my thrusts. Then, with a mighty bellow — almost a roar — he tossed his head back, addressed our ceiling, and shouted as he came.

His cock spurted wildly, creating an abstract pattern of his come on our bedcover. He was almost riding me now, his motions jerking the cock still attached to my hips. Then he settled back down, and I withdrew and unbuckled my harness. My clit was vibrating. Kent spun around and took my button between his thumb and finger, rolling me deliciously toward my own orgasm as he bit my shoulder and licked the sweat from the side of my neck.

“Did you have a happy birthday?” I whispered to him in a shaky voice.

“A very strappy, happy birthday,” he whispered back as the waves of pleasure carried me away