Previously published November 2017 in the Anthology, 30 Dirty Martinis
Birthday Date From Hell
Birthday Date from Hell!
Author: Danielle Jamie
Copyright Danielle Jamie 2017
When I planned my birthday weekend getaway in Daytona Beach, I was expecting to spend it partying on the beach with my best friend and some hot single guys while sipping fruity cocktails. I’ve been planning this trip for four months. I took a paid weekend off from my job, set up a babysitter for my two-year-old daughter, and booked a beach front condo so we’d only be steps away from the beach.
A big hooray to help me celebrate finally being single and free of the dead weight also known as my lying, cheating piece of shit husband. But also escape the cold, dreary winter in New York to help make turning thirty not such an awful thing. I figured turning thirty while lounging ocean side surrounded by half naked, buff guys would make the blow a little less painful.
What I didn’t plan on was my best friend getting sun poisoning the very first day here, but that’s what happens when you bring a ginger to the ocean. So now instead of getting ready with me to go out to the night club down the street to help me celebrate my birthday, she’s lying on the couch in her lace bra and panties, smothered in aloe.
“Why don’t you ask that guy to go out with you to celebrate?” Shelby asks all the while never removing her eyes from the movie she’s watching on Netflix.
Letting out a frustrated sigh, I pick up my phone and pull up my text messages. “I guess. If my ex can screw little twenty somethings, so can I.” I wink at her as I open his number to write him.
I admit at first, I was against even speaking to Brennan after I found out he was only twenty-five years old. I met a guy at the beach yesterday, he is stunning, like Captain America fucking hot. He has a great personality, we seemed to click right away. Shelby had fallen asleep in the sun while I was playing volleyball with him and his friends yesterday and woke up looking redder than a damn lobster. Before we left the beach though, I made sure to exchange numbers with him, and we’ve been texting off and on all day, ever since.
He asked me to go out with his friends and him on their speedboat tubing and water skiing today, but it didn’t feel right leaving Shelby here alone all day, so I passed. At first the texts started off PG but quickly turned dirtier as he began snapping me pics of him all looking tan and smoking hot, as he hung out shirtless on the boat.
Biting the bullet, I fire off a quick text, asking if he wants to meet up at the club to help me celebrate. What better way to celebrate turning thirty than fucking a twenty-five-year-old, smoking hot one-night stand, that I’ll never have to see again since I fly back home tomorrow.
I shriek with excitement when I receive a text back telling me he’d love to. We agree to meet up at the club at ten p.m., so I quickly get to work doing my hair and makeup and picking out the perfect dress for tonight.
“You sure you’re okay with me going out? I’m totally okay with doing a girl’s night in, watch movies, eat tons of junk food and drink until we pass out.” I ask, sitting down on the coffee table in front of her.
Waving me off, she tells me, being slightly pushy, “Gooo! Have fun and get yourself some hot ass birthday sex. Happy birthday, chicka.”
I get an alert that my Uber has arrived, so I hurrying out the door, checking my makeup one more time in the mirror on my way out.
The second the car pulls up to the curb, I climb out and shoot Brennan a text letting him know I’m here. I can hear the music from inside pouring out onto the street as I approach the bouncers at the door, fishing out my I.D. and cash for the entrance fee.
My ego gets a slight boost as the bouncers who are built like a fricking linebacker, give me a one over and joking ask if my I.D. is fake, because there’s no way I’m thirty years old. They wish me a happy birthday before stepping aside, ushering me in.
My phone vibrates alerting me of a text, glancing at my phone I see its Brennan, he’s waiting for me at the bar. The second I spot him, instantly my body flushes red hot and my heart beats a little faster against my chest. His dirty blonde hair is slightly disheveled from hours out on the boat. He’s wearing jeans that make his ass look incredible. I immediately start to imagine what it’ll look like out of them and what it’ll feel like in my hands as he’s driving his dick into me.
After all the dirty things he’s said he wants to do to me while texting me earlier, I for one am hoping we’ll keep this outing short and sweet. Quickly move the birthday celebration from the club to his bedroom.
I make my way towards the bar, sliding up beside him, reaching out, gripping his bicep that’s flexed as he props his elbows onto the bar while watching the game playing above on one of the flat screen televisions. The second he feels my hand touch his arm, his head turns and his powder blue eyes that are slightly glazed over, lock onto mine. A devilish grin spreads across his face as his body shifts to face me. His arms wrap around my body as he pulls me against him and leans down to kiss me.
Immediately his cologne fills my senses…this man smells so damn good. That’s one of my things with a guy, they have a nice smile and it’s a bonus if they smell delicious too. A tingling sensation travels through my body stopping between my legs as his lips brush against mine.
The second his tongue slips into my mouth, I taste whiskey on his breath. Pulling away, he smiles down at me, swaying slightly, “Happy birthday.” He say’s sweetly before waving to the bartender to order another drink.
Laughing, I press my hand against his chest, tilting my head slightly as I peer up at him, “You’re feeling pretty good already I see.”
He flashes me a crooked smirk as he grabs his glass filled what I’m guessing to be whiskey and Coke, tossing back the remainder of the drink before handing the empty glass to the bartender for a refill. “I’m feeling slightly buzzed.” Changing the subject, he asks, “what would the birthday girl like to drink?”
“A mango meltdown sounds yummy right about now”, I answer after glancing over the drink menu.
We spend the next hour drinking and talking at the bar, getting to know each other a little better. Suddenly his hand which has spent most of the hour resting on my thigh, slowly slides its way up a little further.
“You ready to get out of here?” He asks, sliding his hand up just enough that his fingertips gently rub along my lips pressing against my soaking wet, silk panties.
Gripping his shoulders to steady myself, I climb down off the tall bar chair, and slip my hand into his, leading him outside. Within minutes our Uber is pulling up and whisking us back to his place.
The entire car ride to his beach house, he whispers into my ear all the dirty things he’s going to do to me. Promising me the best birthday sex of my life. I admit I’m slightly nervous that he might vomit on me due to the amount of alcohol he consumed within the hour, and who knows how much while out on the boat all day today.
What if he drank so much that he gets whiskey dick?
My eyes shift to the crotch of his pants and notice instantly the slight bulge from his hardening dick. Hopefully that’s a good sign that he’ll be able to back up all this dirty talk.
We walk up the pathway past the row of palm trees and enter the beach house that’s filled with people. There’s a full-on party going on with people filling the small beach house. I notice a few of his friends from the beach yesterday, they all yell out his name as we make our way inside. One guy is wearing a fucking floaty around his waist, while sitting in a small plastic pool full of Jell-O out on the lawn.
“Why is there a guy in a pool full of Jell-O?” I ask.
His friend Tom twists the top off a beer before shoving it into his hand before answering for him, “It was supposed to be for the girls to wrestle in; Jake, is just a drunk dumb ass, and decided to plop himself in it with that damn duck floaty he stole from some little shithead kid down on the beach.
I really would like to get away from this party and continue what we started in the car. Not stand here watching him drink more and visit with his friends.
Tugging on his hand I silently signal that I’m ready to move things to his bedroom.
He pulls me into his side and leads me through the crowd of party goers towards a short hallway before stopping at the furthest door. “Let me apologize in advance for the mess.” He says, swinging open the door.
Immediately I’m hit with the smell of stale beer and sweaty feet as we step into the bedroom. There are clothes tossed all over the room, and empty beer bottles and Gatorade bottles stacked all over the dresser. This is most definitely not the romantic setting I was envisioning, but I guess I shouldn’t expect any less from a twenty-five-year-old who looks like a frat boy.
I step over a bra and a condom wrapper, my stomach flip flops as thoughts of who the bra belongs to and who used the condom fill my head.
I’m pulled from my thoughts when I feel his lips press against my neck and his hands begin to raise my skirt up. His fingers find my waist band and yanks them down, I try to gracefully step out of them but lose my balance thanks to one too many mango melt downs. I fall forward onto the bed and feel the bed bounce as Brennan lands onto the small twin size bed beside me.
Laughing I roll over to face him, leaning in to kiss him, trying to salvage the mood. Climbing onto my knees, I get to work unbuttoning his pants and shimmying them down, while he grips my dress, slipping it up my sides and over my head before tossing it onto the floor.
I shimmy down his pants and hold back a laugh when I see he’s wearing boxers covered in big yellow bananas.
He lifts his ass and helps me slide his boxers down, freeing his semi hard cock.
Really? That is, it? I think to myself as I grip his four-inch dick in my hand and gently stroke it. His hand finds the back of my head, and he pulls my mouth down to his, kissing me passionately, but I can’t get into it because all I can smell is the stale beer and man sweat that fills the room. His dick finally gets semi-hard enough that I attempt to slide down onto it…fucking whiskey dick…ruining my goddamn birthday.
How can a guy this fucking hot, have a dick so goddamn small? I cry internally as I attempt to fuck his semi-harden fricking pickle of a dick. For a man that talked a big game all day, he sure as hell isn’t backing it up now.
I’m caught off guard when he suddenly rolls me onto my back, and begins to kiss, no, not kiss, more like slobber all over my neck. He’s so drunk, the idiot can’t even kiss right anymore.
Why did I think I could hook up with a guy this young? They think binge drinking is a fucking sport for crying out loud. Not caring at all about the poor girl that must try to fuck a dick that feels like something she made from playdough.
Finally, feeling like this is going nowhere and I should just end it now, I push against his chest telling him, “I think I should just go home.”
His face drops as his body stills. “I’m so sorry. I’ll get it up—I just need a minute.” Pulling away from me he kneels between my legs looking lost in thought for a moment, before bringing his eyes back to mine. “Maybe if you suck it for a minute?” He suggests, giving me puppy dog eyes.
At this point I just want to get this over with and get the hell out of here, “Alright, I’ll try to get it up, but I think your ass drank too much today breaking your damn dick.”
His eyes look sad as he stares down at me all while now straddling my face which now has his balls swinging so wonderfully in my face. I can’t stop the eye roll that happens after the third time his damn balls smack against my chin.
“I know…I’m so sorry. I didn’t think, I get carried away partying.”
Wanting to end this conversation, I grip his dick and bring it to my mouth, praying to God that it gets hard so that he can get off and I can leave. The entire time I’m sucking his squishy little dick, I keep thinking to myself it’s such a shame that God wasted a gorgeous face like this on a guy with the littlest dick I’ve ever seen. It finally starts to get hard again, so he pulls it out of my mouth and quickly moves down the bed so that we can attempts to fuck again.
“I want to fuck your pussy so bad.” He tries to whisper in a sexy tone, but it comes out a little more like a slurred whisper scream. I force myself to bite back a smile and hold my breath so that I don’t burst out laughing, blowing his mini weenie straight out of my hooha, because of the face he’s making as he tries to get his dick in me. “Maybe if I just focus really hard…” He mumbles as he begins moving his hips like he’s suddenly Peter Cotton tail trying to procreate, jackrabbiting into me at an awkward rhythm.
I’m lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to him grunting like a cave man, when suddenly the annoying nasally sound of his friend’s British cousin’s voice begins to grow closer to the door. “She won’t come in here, will she?” I ask with panic in my voice as I hear her begin to knock on the door yelling for Brennan.
I do not want some strange chick seeing me naked!
“She won’t come in here.” He assures me, as the bedroom door swings open, and in comes this big, amazon looking British chick looking like she’s about to eat me for dinner. I swear I see some foam coming out of her mouth as her eyes land on us before focusing on Brennan.
I let out a slight scream and throw my arms crossed over my chest. “Oh my, God! What the hell!” I scream as Brennan quickly climbs off me. I cross my legs and reach for the blanket to cover my body. My cheeks are burning red from embarrassment.
This night is literally a nightmare.
Bending down, the British bitch grabs his boxers and tosses them at him, before suddenly pulling a dildo out from her purse and waving it in his face.
Ew! I gag to myself as she smacks him in the arm with it, “What the fuck is wrong with you, stealing my vibrator and using it to fuck yourself in the ass? You’re disgusting. You can fucking have it now because I sure as hell won’t be shoving it up my pussy ever again!”
I watch as the dildo bounces off his chest before falling onto the floor between his feet.
“I think I’m going to go…” I stammer as I reach for my dress and throwing modesty out the window, slip my dress on, scoop my panties off of the floor, and find myself extremely happy that I never took off my heels, as I practically jog my ass out of that house and down the street to my condo.
Shoving the door to open, I burst into the condo, startling a sleepy Shelby who was passed out on the couch, before slamming it shut behind me and collapsing against it.
“Wow, rough night?” She asks, sitting up on the couch and rubbing the sleep from her eyes all while cursing under her breath in pain every time she moves her arms.
Kicking off my heels, I roll my eyes, “You have no idea. Brennan got wasted, got whiskey dick, which isn’t even the worst of it.”
“Oh no, do I want to know?” She asks staring up at me in horror.
“His dick was like a freaking sausage link! To top off the worst sex of my life, that crazy British chick that’s his friend’s cousin, she burst right into the bedroom while I’m lying there naked! Winging around a dildo yelling at Brennan for fucking himself in the ass with it!” It’s hard to not laugh as I try to retell the story of Brennan being wacked with a rubber dick.
Shelby’s face mirror’s mine. A look of horror and slight amusement over the disaster that was my evening, causing her lips to curl up into a small smirk.
“After that I need a fucking drink.” I huff out. My heart is still racing as my body tries to recover from having to flee that goddamn house of dildos.
Climbing off of the couch, Shelby pads across the tile floor into the small kitchen connected to the living room and proceed to grab everything she needs to make our yearly birthday cocktail: The Birthday cake Martini; Shelby and I drink it every year on her birthday and mine. We have ever since we turned 21. We made some earlier to sip out on the deck while eating chocolate cupcakes.
“We’re going to drink our martinis, watch Magic Mike and let Channing Tatum work his magic pelvis to help you forget all about Captain Small Dick.”
It’s almost an hour later when I hear my phone ding, alerting me of a new text. We’re halfway through our movie and more than halfway through our third round of birthday martini’s.
Jumping onto her knees, Shelby peers over my shoulder to read the text as I open it.
I’m so sorry about tonight, Elle. Just so you know I never used her fucking dildo. She’s jealous, so made a scene to try and cock block me. I really hope you’ll give me the opportunity to redeem myself. I had way too much to drink tonight.
I burst out laughing, “There’s no way in HELL that I am going to put myself through round two of his so called ‘best sex of my life’.”
Snatching my phone out of my hand Shelby’s fingers practically cause smoke to roll off my screen as she types a response back to Brennan. We both burst into a fit of giggles as we re read the text she just sent to him.
Thanks, but no thanks. You and your banana boxers can go swoon the panties off another girl.
Not giving him the opportunity to respond, I block his number and toss my phone onto the couch. I curl up beside my best friend, take a nice long sip of my drink and bask in the glory that is Channing Tatum shirtless.
I may not be ending my 30th birthday with the hot, steamy sex that I was hoping for, but at least I’m not ending it faking an orgasm, while some sloppy, twenty-something, attempts to fuck me like a porn star while failing miserably.
All you can do is look on the bright side…and pray to God that you never have to see another pair of banana boxer’s ever again in your lifetime.
Enjoy your own birthday cake martini!
Colorful Birthday Cake Martini recipe: An easy cocktail that tastes like a birthday cake!
∙ Serves 2
Baking & Spices
- 1 Candy sprinkles
- 1 Frosting
- 1 Pastel food coloring
Beer, Wine & Liquor
- 1 oz Cake flavored vodka
- 1 oz White chocolate liqueur