Unforgettable night – The Birthday sex

Greetings to all the horny and passionate readers of this site. I’m a guy in my twenties with a horny dick and a passionate smut writer and reader working in the IT industry.

Shweta and I were friends for years. We had been in a large circle of friends in college and moved about an hour away from each other after graduation. Some people in our group had dated or hooked up with each other. However, Shweta was always adamant about keeping things uncomplicated, but she never did.

We barely spoke about things sexual in nature, but I knew she was never looking for a hookup or FWB and even had a 7-date rule. She’s always very bubbly in real life, but it’s easy to tell that she’s a prude, and while she doesn’t get uncomfortable hearing about sex, she would never start that conversation.

Shweta is undeniably cute, short, and curvy with big brown eyes and a loving smile, but she always dressed conservatively and was never hit on or picked up. And I’m sure that seeing her modest pictures on dating apps also discouraged any guy looking for a hookup.

While she had many friends who would set her up on dates, things didn’t seem to progress or last, as she wanted something particular and never seemed to find it. All this adds up to one thing, a very, very needy and horny 25-year-old girl.

I was one of a handful of guys invited to her birthday party. The others were already salivating at the prospect of being in a small party with such a female-heavy ratio. We all met up in a bar, and I was pretty shocked to see that the girls were nothing like Shweta at all!

It was not winter, but Shweta was wearing slacks and a cardigan. Most of the guys were wearing polos or button-down shirts, but half of her friend group looked ready to go clubbing. Their outfits barely had enough material to mop up the drool from all the guys in the otherwise quiet bar.

We all sat around and reminisced. The newer friends added their stories. Someone brought in a homemade ‘Who knows Shweta better’ game. It was all fun and light until we started talking about Shweta’s lack of sex life. Some of her girlfriends were really giving her a hard time.

The guys just looked on, unsure how to respond. It was the opposite of slut shaming. I’ve never seen it before, but it’s definitely just as wrong. Eventually, someone changed the subject, and the rest of the night was light and fun again.

I drove Shweta home afterwards, as it was on the way to my place. The conversation quickly became deep. “Do you think guys don’t want to date me because I don’t want to have sex right away? Am I wasting my twenties not hooking up? Do I dress like an old milkmaid?”

The questions were fast and furious, and it was hard to focus on driving and answer her satisfactorily. But Shweta seemed content with my answers and just said, “Thank you,” before grabbing my hand and lapsing off into a long silence. It was our first “intimate” contact, and I decided to go with it.

But the next time Shweta opened her mouth, the questions were directed at me. While she didn’t know any of the details, Shweta knew I was more on the promiscuous side of things. “Do you get feelings for a FWB or hookup? Would you seriously date a girl who you knew slept around?”

Those were harder to dance around, and I did tell her that guys and girls have different emotions after sex, too. She seemed to be content with those answers and then started to tell me her sex history. Three guys, all former boyfriends, never anything kinky, barely oral.

She had a vibrator to keep her from being sexually frustrated during her last dry spell, which was now close to two years. There was a lot to get my head around, but basically, Shweta had never experienced spontaneous, wild, passionate sex. She started asking me about my sex life.

Then she asked me what the kinkiest thing I had done was. I didn’t know how to respond, but I had started writing out my stories. This was long before posting on Indian sex stories. I just handed my phone to her with the notes open. “Read it if you want. It has everything.”

Spellbound, Shweta took it and started reading. I was only about ten minutes away from her apartment at the time. Shweta stayed in the car for a few more minutes after that, just reading and holding my hand. Finally, she looked at me. “Are these true? You’re a great writer regardless.”

They were all true, and half of them were sent to the girls afterwards so that they could cum again to the memories. Shweta just looked at me and said, “I don’t know if I’m ready for birthday sex, but would you please give me a birthday kiss?”

I didn’t respond and just leaned over to kiss her cheek and forehead. But she just looked at me with those big green eyes while massaging my hand with both of hers and said, “A real kiss.” A real kiss it was. I leaned over and held her trembling chin in my hand before placing the softest kiss on her pouty lips.

It took all of three seconds for Shweta to go from a chaste kiss to attacking my mouth with reckless abandon. Her hands were in my hair, and she moaned into my mouth while her tongue pushed itself as far as it could go. “Come inside and kiss me properly,” she whispered as she gasped for air.

I followed, trying to tell myself not to let this night go too far, but ultimately, she was in charge. I sat down on her couch. Shweta immediately straddled me to kiss me and grind into my growing erection. I was not able to hide how hard I was, and it made her growl and moan in excitement.

“Touch me, feel my body,” she said, and she didn’t have to say it twice. Her curves were soft. They were soon being gently caressed as we kissed passionately. Shweta wanted more and growled at me to squeeze her big tits, grope her ass.

She wanted me to enjoy her like I’ve never enjoyed a girl’s body before. She might not have had any experience riding a guy. But she certainly knew how to grind while on my lap. It was so hard that I tried to hold her down and keep her still because otherwise, it might’ve been too much for me.

My hands were inside her sweater and teasing her rock-hard nipples when Shweta said something that made me freeze. “Ugh, let’s just have sex already.” I wanted it almost as much as she did. But I knew I wouldn’t regret it nearly as much as she might. I looked at the clock- 11:47 on the eve of her birthday.

I told her that I was going to the car for 13 minutes and would text her Happy Birthday at midnight. She can then decide how she wants to respond. She looked a little thankful and a little disappointed. But she kissed me one last time before getting up and leading me to the door.

I sat in my car and waited, contemplating all the possible repercussions of this. We both knew we wouldn’t date seriously. We were friends but had very different ideas and life plans.

Conversely, I felt that Shweta would least regret having sex with me of all people. She knew that I would treat her right and put her pleasure first.

I texted her at midnight exactly and waited for a response. One minute, three minutes, six minutes. I was just about to leave when I got a text back. “Sorry, I lost track of time, please come back,” followed by a picture of her TV open to the Netflix Home Screen.

I walked up the stairs again and thought about where I knew this night was going. I made sure that I had a condom. Shweta opened the door with just her head poking out and told me to come inside.

Every idea I had about conversation first went out the window when I saw her naked body. I closed the door behind me, and she jumped into my arms to kiss me again. I felt her still-damp skin and realised exactly how she had lost track of time.

It was a quick shower, and I wanted to taste every inch of her fresh skin, and I told her so. She just lay down on her bed and spread her legs before stopping my forehead as I was about to dive in. “Bet you never thought this would happen, huh, Mister?”

No, I did not. But I was determined to make sure it would be a night for her to remember. Shweta was already wet and slick. I pressed my face against her muff, inhaling her scent. She had a full bush. I appreciated the shower, as I had never eaten out a full, thick bush like that before.

It was a bit tricky to avoid pulling any hairs painfully. But I quickly caught on and spread her lips so I could lap at her clit. Shweta was needy, and her moans filled the room. She used words like pussy and fuck, which I had never imagined would even be in her vocabulary.

Soon enough, her vocal cords were relegated to emitting unintelligible sounds of pleasure as I sucked on her engorged clit. Shweta came and pulled me up to kiss her before asking me what I wanted to do next. I told her that she had chosen everything we did and didn’t do.

She was shocked that she immediately said, “I want to suck your dick.” I was not going to turn that down and smiled. She eagerly pulled down my undies. She took as much of my throbbing cock into her mouth as she was able. I was already so close from the previous grinding and humping while I ate her out.

It only took a few minutes of those soft lips on the head of my cock. She was choking and then swallowing all of my cum. We kissed and cuddled through the refractory period. Shweta asked me if I wanted to get a condom, laughing when I pulled it out of my pocket.

She knew that we had all chipped in together for a gift. But still, she made sure to tease me for giving her a condom as a birthday present. She opened it and slid it onto my already hard again dick.

“Is it ok if we just do missionary?” She asked sheepishly. I kissed her and assured her that it was more than ok. In fact, it would be perfect. I crawled over her and slid her ass over a pillow. Then lining up my condom-clad cock with her soaking wet pussy. “Perfect” was the word on her lips as well.

Shweta’s arms went above her head and clasped the bed frame while I slid into her tight pussy. “It’s been so long… you feel so good… come close… perfect…” she babbled. I thrust gently at first before picking up speed and rhythm.

Finally, her arms wrapped around my back. She whispered into my ear while I filled up her neglected little pussy. I was able to go for a while after cumming, but we kept it slow. She had another orgasm while we made love. Then she told me that she wanted to watch me cum for her.

I was more than happy to oblige. I got on my knees and yanked off the condom while she got a pile of her dirty clothes for me to cum on. It was incredibly sexy.

Shweta got on her knees next to me and ran her hands up and down my abs. She kissed my shoulders and squeezed my ass. I stroked my cock, aiming directly at a flowery pair of panties. She might’ve felt too self-conscious to talk dirty at that point.

But she still told me over and over that she wanted to watch me cum, cum for her, and cover her panties. I was getting close. She encouraged me to moan, telling me how much she loved hearing it while raking her fingernails over my bare skin.

That put me over the edge. I cum all over her clothes, getting that pair of panties with most of it. Some dribbled on a t-shirt as well. Shweta gave the head of my cock the cutest little kiss and simply said to me, “Thank you, it was perfect.”

I offered to stay the night, but she declined. She texted me the next day that she was still on a high and asked me to write it up for her as well. We hung out plenty of times during the following year, but we never even kissed. It was like our one special night, and we never mentioned it.

Aside from the occasional joke of waiting in a long line or something. It was so long, “it felt like 13 minutes.”

But the following year, Shweta had a party with her girls, and then she texted me the next day, asking if we could hang out alone. I headed over and was ready to pick her up. She came out of her room in a green dress and holding a little bag. It was wrapped, and inside was a three-pack of condoms. We tried several positions and kinks that night.

I hope you enjoyed my story. For feedback and discussion, please feel free to reach out to me at [email protected].