Message-ID: <53267asstr$1142518201@assm.asstr.org>
From: "Franz Kafka" <franzkafka79@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Birthday Night in the Red 5 (MF, FF, MFF, oral, anal, caution)
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Date: Thu, 16 Mar 2006 09:10:01 -0500
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Birthday Night in the Red 5
A story by Franz Kafka

(c) 2006 by FranzKafka79

All rights reserved. May be archived at ASSTR, but nowhere else without my 
permission. Not to be read in countries in which on-line reading of stories 
with sexual contents is illegal. Not to be read by minors anyway. (A minor 
is expected to be less than 18 years of age, depending on where you live, 
though, some political leaders behave like minors -- so they also shouldn't 
read it). Some of the practices described in this story are dangerous and/or 
insane or illegal. Drug use is illegal in most countries. You are 
responsible for what you are doing.

All characters in this story are fuckable in the country in which this story 
takes place, which is identical to the country in which the story was 
written ('produced') and posted ('distributed'). The age of consent in that 
country is fifteen, though in the story no underage persons take part in 
sexual acts. No animals were harmed while producing this adult entertainment 
(except for the cow which delivered the meat for a green pepper steak while 
doing research for the story).

All similarities to real persons and situations are not intended and only 
coincidental, though, as said before, the Red 5 club really exists and its 
interior is authentic, as are some of the characters described herein. This 
story was inspired by R/L contacts. Much of the attitude is authentic, but 
sexual behaviour might or might not be fantasy. As always, I've added 
elements from my fantasy to this story. All cited trademarks belong to their 
owners.

Esu Migabe cleaned up the mess, which I made writing. *Thank you very much.* 
All remaining mistakes are mine.

The story takes place after 'New Year's Eve in the Red 5' and is the second 
story in the 'Red 5' cycle, but is standing alone.

* * *

Birthday Night in the Red 5
A story by Franz Kafka


"Are you jealous?"

Her question caught me unprepared. Merely two months had gone by since I 
first met her on New Year's night. Like a whirl-wind we'd threw ourselves 
into this relationship. Our friends -- both hers and mine -- said that it 
was a relationship without any perspectives.

I looked at her inquiringly and she asked again, with different words, but 
her question actually remained unchanged.

"Do you request faith?"

I was surprised by this question. Faith seemed to be one of those 
old-fashioned ideals which weren't popular with young people anymore. Yet I 
didn't know where this discussion would lead. I didn't expect a break-up, 
since during the last weeks we had become very familiar with each other.

"Do you mean that question 'related to sex'?"

Since we met I haven't had any sex other than with her (and occasionally my 
right hand on some business travels), so my own behaviour certainly wasn't 
the reason for this strange discussion.

"No, that's not my question. I asked if you request faith. I didn't ask if 
you request me not to have sex with anyone else."

She was thinking on a different level to me at this moment. I was distracted 
I had to admit, distracted by her confusing question. More so, I was 
distracted by a redheaded young woman, about her age, who was sitting close 
by me only some steps in front of me, on one of the seats along the L-shaped 
bar in the Red 5.

* * *

Katka was much younger than me, only half my age, and that was the reason 
why our friends didn't see any future in our relationship. Her friends said, 
I was too old; my friends claimed she was too young. Both sides didn't 
believe that we could get along. They ignored the fact that I felt much 
younger than I was and that she acted more grown-up than she appeared.

Last week we had decided that Katka would move in with me. My apartment was 
large, too big for just me, almost 150 square metres. Actually it had been 
my idea because I found it a bit weird, that she left after spending the 
night in my bed (or at least most of it) and headed back to the flat, where 
she lived with her mother, the second husband, and her two half-sisters.

Not only did my friends show resentment, but also her parents had been 
concerned. Though they didn't deny me openly, I felt that they feared I 
could use the young girl only as a fuck-toy. Now Katka was a young woman who 
dressed very sexy and had an outstanding figure, so she could have had ten 
guys on each of her fingers -- her parents' thought that my interest in 
Katka was based only on showing off an attractive girlfriend wasn't totally 
off-topic, but I was still too young (and too grown-up) for such silly 
games.

My daytime job gave me enough opportunities to prove myself, so I didn't 
need a woman or a relationship to show off to friends, relatives, and 
co-workers.

* * *

"I wasn't faithful in former relationships," I said. "I mean, I loved each 
of my former girlfriends and was still in love with them until just before 
we broke up -- actually some of them I still love today -- but I had sex 
with other women, back then."

"Why?"

"I dunno. Well, I guess I know. I was young, I had friends who had lovers. I 
guess we needed to compete, to show who the better guy was."

"And?"

"If we found out the better guy?"

"No. If it was necessary."

"Well... it did no good for my relationships, but it helped me to sort out 
some false friends, though."

I paused. I was on thin ice here. It was better to think before I spoke.

"What was wrong when you were promiscuous?" was Katka's next question.

I sipped on my usual whisky, a _Jameson_.

"There was no love involved. Wait, that's not true. It was wrong, we 
pretended it was love. Some girls knew it was only about sex, but some 
thought -- hoped -- it was more than fucking."

Now she was looking puzzled, so I continued.

"Sometimes I lied to the girl, telling her how much I loved her and how I 
would leave my girlfriend for her. But that wasn't true. I didn't think 
about leaving my girlfriend. Other times I lied to myself, making myself 
believe that such an affair wouldn't damage my love for my girlfriend. _To 
thine ownself be true._"

"That's Shakespeare, isn't it?"

I nodded. "Hamlet."

"So you wouldn't want me to have sex with another guy in secret and not tell 
you?" she asked.

"I would have to believe you if you said you weren't. Maybe some of my 
so-called friends would tell me, maybe not. I wouldn't really know. They 
might tell me lies, not the truth. Well," I added, "I don't think that I be 
would be very happy, if I knew."

"But you would accept another guy, if I told you about him?"

"I didn't say that. Accepting means to agree and I don't believe I could 
agree on demand."

The redhead paid her bill, stood up, and left. I was relieved.

* * *

A few days ago, Katka had fulfilled the promise which she had made at the 
New Year. We had gone to a piercing saloon to get the bars put through her 
nipples and a ring through her clit. When she asked for the ring to be 
welded on, I was surprised. She wouldn't be able to remove it.

Though we hadn't spoken about a proposal, it seemed to me that this was 
almost an engagement of sorts. She hadn't mentioned anything like this to me 
but I didn't press her to talk about it either though.

She had teased me and suggested a _Prince Albert_ for me, but I refused 
this. I had seen depictions of that before and somehow it seemed weird -- 
besides thinking _ouch_.

* * *

"What about other girls?" she asked.

"I don't need another girl," I answered. I knew that it was the wrong answer 
when I saw her rolling her eyes. I began again. Sometimes it was better to 
speak in a foreign language. People tend to listen more but you also have a 
good excuse to rephrase things and begin a sentence again due to a 
'misunderstanding'.

"I wasn't interested in the hooking-up-game, when I was alone -- why do you 
think I need it now? Besides, how would you feel if I looked around for 
another girl?"

"At some point the situation might arise. Besides, you're already looking 
around," she insisted. "For instance, you watched that red-haired girl for a 
while."

"She was plump, not beautiful."

"But you watched her. I saw you."

She was right. If I denied it, I would have lied. I certainly did watch nice 
girls and attractive women and I would do so for as long as I lived, or at 
least, until masturbation blinded me.

Once in another life, another place and too young for a steady relationship, 
my girlfriend had given me an ultimatum. I had to make a decision, choose 
between her or my _Playboy_ collection. It wasn't an easy choice, but in the 
end, the magazines stayed and the girlfriend went. It was cruel. I cried in 
the night, and sometimes when I came across the special places we had 
visited together, for a couple of months. The loss of my first girlfriend 
was a major impact, but eventually I understood, that Kimberly Conrad (the 
later Mrs. Hefner) and Pamela Anderson had been only one of the issues. The 
real reason was that Alexandra being one year older than I, was a much more 
mature person than I was.

"Sure, I look, when nice legs and a well-shaped bum are around. I even admit 
that I do flirt sometimes, but I am not fucking around. Anyway, she had 
wonderful blue eyes and a nice tattoo on her back."

"But she was plump. Besides that though, do you admit that most other women 
would go nuts?"

"I guess, I must agree."

"Now, if I was flirting with, let's say, the guy over there, you wouldn't 
mind?"

She meant a guy who was sitting two seats to my right. He couldn't hear us, 
because the jukebox was playing loud music. The songs by Depeche Mode had 
faded away and somebody had selected something more psychedelic, but I 
didn't recognize it.

"Of course I would. And before you get started, yes, that's the old role 
play between men and women, I admit. A cheating man is admired, while women 
doing the same are condemned as whores."

"So -- flirting with that guy makes me a whore?"

"No. I said I wouldn't like you flirting with him. Look at  how he appears. 
Flirting with such an," I gulped, "ape that looks like a mix of Julio 
Iglesias and David Beckham would be an affront against me. If you flirted 
with that guy, I would cast doubt on your senses."

Katka smiled softly now. My argument was easily won because I knew that the 
guy wasn't the type of man she liked.

"I would be jealous, if you began to flirt with that man," I said, nodding 
in another direction. On her left sat another young man. He was some years 
older than Katka, maybe twenty-five and wasn't tall, shorter than me in 
fact. His voice was dark and melodic. His hair wasn't cut as short as mine, 
but it wasn't long, it only appeared wild because he hadn't combed it for a 
while. He wasn't dirty though -- he certainly had spent a lot of time 
preparing his outfit. Contrary to me he obviously wasn't forced to spend 
most of his time in business suits. I then recognised him as the bar-keeper 
of another shift in the Red 5.

My girlfriend laughed out loud for a short time.

"Well, I don't need him again," she said. She turned towards him and boxed 
him playfully on his shoulder. He turned around very fast, preparing for an 
assault but relaxed again when he saw my blonde girlfriend.

"Ahoj, Mirko," Katka said, "I want to introduce you to my boyfriend."

He greeted us and shook our hands. His handshake was firm, not weak and 
slimy -- I hated the latter.

"Mirek and I were a couple once when I was seventeen."

I wasn't really surprised since I had already found out during the last 
couple of months since we had been together that Katka was pretty wild.

The guy spoke to us for a few more minutes, but then he and his friend 
finished their _Bacardis_ and left.

Katka and I stayed for yet another drink, but we didn't resume our earlier 
conversation.

When we walked home, she felt cold. We had to find our way through the thick 
snow, which had fallen almost two weeks ago. It had only snowed for one day 
but it had been heavy. It was still deep enough to reach my knees and since 
last week we'd also had arctic temperatures to contend with. During the 
nights the temperature fell well below minus ten; even in the day it wasn't 
climbing any higher than minus seven degrees Celsius.

Katka was clothed in knee-high leather boots and blue-jeans with a thick 
black sweater, but it didn't help a lot. When we undressed I put our anoraks 
on hangers and then helped her with her boots. I discovered at that point 
that she had icy feet and her legs were very cold.

Five minutes later we joined each other under a hot shower.

We soaped each other. I also shampooed her shoulder-length blonde hair. It 
wasn't long before washing wasn't a primary concern anymore, as our hands 
started rubbing each other more tenderly than necessary. The soap and the 
shampoo were long gone. Soon I was playing her breasts and rubbing carefully 
with her areolas, avoiding the fresh-pierced nipples.

Her hand was massaging my cock, which quickly became hard. We began to kiss. 
When my tongue intruded inside her mouth, the tips of our tongues twirled 
around each other's. Our kisses became rougher and her moaning grew louder. 
Her grip around the shaft of my member was stronger now and she stroked up 
and down me with a faster pace. Even though she avoided touching my head and 
only pumped my base, making sure that my orgasm didn't build up as usual, I 
seemed to be harder than ever before.

My feelings got more intense now, my breathing increased, and my heart beat 
faster. My left hand was now buried in between her wet hair. With one hand I 
grabbed some of her curlies and pulled them as I pulled the bar through the 
base of her left nipple with my other hand. It was rough, lacking all 
tenderness now. She moaned louder and kissed harder. She masturbated faster 
and suddenly I couldn't stand it anymore.

Then she went down.

* * *

What drove Katka tonight? I hadn't seen her like this before. She cupped my 
ass with her hands and forced herself on to my cock, penetrating her throat 
with my shaft. Then she went back and let my cock almost slip out of her 
mouth, only the tip of the little head with the small hole remained between 
her lips. Her sparkling green eyes looked up making contact with mine, and I 
never broke the look. Then her lips gulped back over my shaft again, only 
taking in a few centimetres, while her tongue met my cock again and twirled 
around. I felt like I was in heaven and had the need to hold myself on the 
pole to adjust the shower's height.

It got hotter and hotter. I was wet, not only from the hot water, but also 
from the arousal and the agony in which she held me. The bathroom was full 
of steam, but I still looked into her eyes.

"You're so good, my precious. I love you so much," I told her, feeling like 
I was in heaven.

When the tip of my cock slid deeper into her mouth and eventually hit the 
stud through her tongue I lost my hesitations and called her names. Heaven 
turned into hell, it seemed, but I definitely liked that sort of hell.

She took me deeper and deeper. I felt her gag reflex when I hit the back of 
her mouth. She pulled back a little, but only to push again taking my penis 
in its full length. My member entered her throat, causing her reflex to gag 
me down. Her tongue still worked around the shaft and her hands were still 
holding my ass; she firmly pressed her face into my crotch.

Her throat, her tongue, and her lips, all parts of her, that were in contact 
with my cock, were massaging my member and I felt the orgasm start to build 
up.

I kept looking into her eyes, which were widening now. She obviously didn't 
have enough air, but I had no power to withdraw. I had to come and I had to 
do so immediately.

Who knows how many seconds went by but finally I erupted and shot my hot 
seed down to her stomach.

* * *

I met Anouk when I was twenty-four. She was a migrant from France in the 
company I worked for at that time and she studied at the '�cole Sup�rieur 
�conomique' in Dijon. She worked in our company through the summer and was 
two years younger than me. She had short brown hair and eyes almost the same 
colour. Hanging around with her was fun, though most guys wouldn't have 
given her a second look, since she was flat-chested and her face was only 
average even when she put on some make-up, but -- she didn't use any.

It was on a hot Saturday, when we went to the communal, outdoor 
swimming-pool. We teased each other for a while about the lack of a partner 
and she laughed, claiming her reason for a boyfriend's absence was her awful 
looks.

I teased her back stating that she wasn't as bad looking as she thought and 
a relationship was also about mind and fun and sex. She was intelligent and 
funny, so I mocked her that she might be a bad lay.

That made her start protesting and soon all this talk made me horny and my 
cock stiffened. I had to turn and lay on my stomach, what she acknowledged 
with laughter.

"You should cool yourself in the water. Otherwise you'll have to stay, until 
night is falling and all the people have left."

I jumped up and lifted her up. Though she was tall for a girl, her eyes were 
at the height of my mouth, she wasn't heavy so I could lift her without any 
problems. I took her to the pool and threw her into it. I jumped into the 
water and tried to push her under the water. We fooled around for a time. We 
weren't good at avoiding body contact though and my cock still remained 
stiff.

"So much for cooling down," she teased me and we stayed for a long time in 
the water.

* * *

Katka's eyes and mine never broke contact. Not while she made me come, not 
when she finally withdrew her head and gasped for air, and not, when I sank 
down on the ceramic of the tub, because of my weakened legs.

After a while she broke the silence.

"I love you so much!"

I had no better answer other than kissing her, so I did.

The shower still sprayed hot water over all our bodies.

* * *

When Anouk and I went home, we began to kiss. She was a good kisser, but 
kissing her wasn't an enjoyment.

The reason was the extra slim menthol cigarettes, _Vogue_, that Anouk smoked 
all day long, getting through two flip boxes a day at least. Kissing her was 
a turn off because I felt it was like kissing an ashtray. Kissing her was 
also a turn on because she really knew how to use her tongue.

* * *

Slowly my mind returned from the past into the present, back into the 
reality of my bedroom, when I was woken up during the night. I looked over 
Katka's shoulder and saw the red digits of the buzzer. 2:14 AM, it read. I 
had to get up in less than four hours and start work at half past six, even 
though it was my birthday.

Katka and I had gone to bed after we left the shower and were soon sleeping. 
We were still spooning each other, with her back cuddled into my arms. My 
cock was still half-stiff and nestled between the cheeks of her nice-rounded 
ass.

I wasn't sure thinking about it, who would beat whom in a blowjob 
competition, and though my memories of Anouk in my mind had got somewhat 
idealised through the years, one thing was for sure; never again I would 
leave a relationship so light-heartedly like I had left Anouk.

Anyway, my mind returned back to my memories of the French girl, returned 
back to fifteen years ago and I began a mental discussion about the 
advantages and disadvantages of Katka and Anouk.

Aside from my other likings -- green eyes and mini-skirts -- oral sex was a 
major turn-on for me. This included the active and the passive part. Her 
tongue was talented and experienced. Anouk knew what was needed to make a 
man happy.

Former girlfriends -- before Anouk -- had satisfied me orally, but it was 
her, who showed me in practice why oral sex is also known as _French love_.

The night we fucked for the first time I almost cried because I couldn't 
stand the level of arousal she evoked in me. What was worse, she sucked, 
licked, teased, and held me just below the point of no return, but she 
didn't let me come. She even put the condom on my cock with her mouth - 
she'd certainly practiced that trick before with other men -- and finally I 
shot my seed into the rubber, while I slammed my hard cock into her pussy.

She was very talented in rocking her hips onto my hard-on but her oral 
skills were _perfect_.

* * *

When I awoke again, it was 5:52 AM, eight minutes before the buzzer would go 
off. It took me a few moments to become aware of what had woken me. Katka, 
my precious lover, had grabbed hold of my cock and was stroking it to its 
full hardness. She was still cuddled into me and my right arm was wrapped 
around her body. My hand searched for her breasts, actually for the right 
one, since it was faster to arouse and somehow caused more intensive 
feelings in the young blonde.

She moaned and then she said, in her still sleepy voice, "I want you to 
stick it into my ass and fuck me. If you come, before the buzzer goes off, I 
will present you with a special birthday surprise."

When she put my dick against her tight asshole, I realised, that she somehow 
had managed to lubricate both herself and my cock and with her help I 
managed to push inside her.

Slowly I started my motions, I thrust my cock in and out, not wanting to 
hurt her, since she felt so tight in this position. Actually, I believed 
that I wasn't able to fuck her without her feeling pain.

"You'll have to move faster," she teased. "Only five minutes left, stud!"

Damn. She knew I was horny in the mornings, but she also knew that it took 
me much longer to build up my orgasm than at other times of the day.

Soon the digital buzzer showed 5:57 AM.

"You're running out off time, ass-fucker!" she said.

"I ... don't ... want to ... hurt ... you," I managed to say, each word 
between one thrust into her.

"Don't think about me. Today it's your birthday. If you want a surprise, 
fuck and come. You're running out of time. Two minutes."

I pushed her and made her lay on her stomach. I was on top and increased my 
pace. I was sure that I was causing her pain but she didn't react to it.

Just before the clock showed the last minute, she said, "Come on, does it! I 
know you can fuck ass. Give me your spunk. Shoot your seed into me!"

It's a turn-on, when Katka talks dirty to me.

When the digits changed to 5:59 AM I began to count the seconds in my mind, 
since the watch didn't show them. I increased my pace, adjusting my rhythm 
to the fictive seconds.

I started to come as I reached fifty in my mind, released my sperm into her 
bowels and cried out my lust. That wasn't love, but pure sex. So different 
to the earlier evening blowjob in the shower.

The buzzer went off two or three seconds later, I'd obviously counted far 
too slowly.

"Seems you did it just in time, stud!" Katka said, moaning between her words 
and I still wasn't able to decide if she was moaning in lust or in agony. 
But she didn't care, obviously.

Not only had I been almost running out of time, but I was also out of 
breath, the only sentence that came in my mind was, "You're such a slut!"

* * *

I even visited Anouk at home. She lived with her parents in a small village 
about fifteen minutes north of Paris. They had left us alone for the 
weekend, travelling to the Sologne region near Orl�ans, so we had the flat 
in a nice three-storey apartment building for ourselves. Pitifully, it was 
the wrong time of the month. (It was more an issue with her than with me, 
but it fitted with her behaviour. During the three or four months we were 
dating, she never let me lick her pussy, nor did we fuck when the light was 
on, though she had no problems taking my cock into her mouth by full 
daylight. Even today, I don't know the reason why, since her attitude didn't 
show any signs of moralistic doubts in having lusty, pre-marital sex.)

During the night she gave me head, twice, but she wouldn't let me come. She 
also masturbated me, but stopped just before I was ready. I was frustrated 
and I blamed it on the dispute we'd had earlier that day. I was annoyed by 
drawing comparisons between kissing her and kissing an ash-tray and I had 
told her that.

The next day, when we were visiting the Euro-Disney resort, we were in a 
better mood. When we reached a kind of pirate treasure island with some dark 
-- very dark -- tunnels, she started to fool around with me. We began to 
touch each other where we shouldn't. I was standing behind her and held her 
around her waist. I kissed her neck and my hands were beginning to grab the 
front of her body. She only wore a white t-shirt with no bra underneath so 
when my hand reached her breasts I felt her hard nipples. Of course I 
squeezed them and Anouk immediately laid her hands on to mine and tried to 
stop me from arousing her.

"Don't do this," she said. "Not here."

"Why not?" I asked her. "It's too dark for anyone to see us."

My cock was beginning to stiffen and she felt it, since the cups of her ass 
were pressed into my crotch.

"I guess, we can't go outside with you like that," she teased.

I didn't answer, but kissed and sucked and bit her bare neck.  (Later we 
discovered the love marks which eventually gave her mother some chuckles!) 
She reached behind herself with her arms, searching for my cock. She started 
to rub it through my jeans, but then she found the zipper and after opening 
my trousers, she pulled out my member, gently stroking it as she did so.

After a while, she turned towards me. For a moment I thought (and feared) 
she wanted to kiss me. Kissing her, kissing _Vogue_ (or, rather, the ashes) 
was beginning to distract me.

I was wrong anyway because she went down and took me in her mouth. Her 
tongue did what I'd hoped for. She twirled around the small hole in my head 
and I was soon in heaven. I was ready, I shot my semen into her mouth.

I shot all of it into her mouth. Never before had I climaxed into her. When 
I had penetrated her in the past, my cock was wrapped into rubber. Never 
before had I come into her mouth.

When she stood up, I felt so much in heaven, that I wasn't even reluctant to 
kiss her. Soon we were French-kissing each other. It took me a few seconds 
to realize that the taste in her mouth wasn't the expected nicotine, but 
sperm -- my sperm.

Anouk's mouth was full of my sperm and I liked it. We shared my cum and for 
a while I forgot about her smoking habit.

* * *

The day at work was uneventful. My co-workers congratulated me and in the 
afternoon we had the traditional 'birthday-briefing', which meant that we 
met in the break-room, where we shared a bottle of slivovitz, cookies, and 
sandwiches.

They had bought a bottle of 12 year old _Cragganmore_, a single speyside 
malt, as a present for me. They continued the tradition of last year -- a 
bottle of _Dalwhinnie_ -- and we sat around for awhile, but after five 
o'clock they faded away and the last co-worker left the office with me at 
six.

Katka had phoned me earlier that day telling me to meet her in the "Red 5" 
at seven o'clock, so I went home to shower and to change into more casual 
clothing.

When I arrived in the club, I ordered a _Jameson_. Katka was due to arrive 
in ten minutes and so I used the opportunity to look and see who was around.

I wasn't surprised to recognise the redhead with the piercing blue eyes. She 
was still plump and the only reason I wasted a thought on her were because 
of her eyes and the tattoo on her lower back, which reminded me of my 
girlfriend.

Sometimes I wonder why people turn and look at you when you're watching 
them. I noticed the redhead suddenly turn and look at me. It didn't make me 
blush, like it surely would have done two decades back, but I smiled to her 
in return. She raised her eye brows.

She wore low cut blue jeans and a sweater with turtleneck neckline, both of 
them far away from being an attraction to the viewer -- she was ninety-five 
percent average and only five percent of her made me look. Oddly enough, her 
eye colour was wrong.

I watched her as she climbed from the chair and walked towards the 
rest-rooms. Her ass not firm and sexy like Katka's didn't sway in the same 
sexy style.

Moments later my girlfriend arrived and kissed me passionately. She ordered 
a vodka and juice for herself, before giving me a small package, wrapped in 
red paper. Its size was similar to those small boxes for rings, but it was 
flatter.

"Happy birthday, my dear. You might have use for it."

I was curious and ripped the paper away. When I discovered what it was, I 
was shocked for a few seconds.

"I think, you should definitely use it," Katka said.

We kissed again. I thanked her for the present with difficulty.

Why did she choose it? It wasn't a matter of the price, it cost much less 
than a drink in this bar. It was much more the imaginary price of the 
present what had me shocked.

* * *

Anouk and I never repeated the experience with snowballing and sharing my 
milky juice again. We broke up because of her smoking or, more exactly, the 
smell of ash in her mouth.

* * *

Some time later I excused myself and went to the restroom. I was washing my 
hands when I heard the door open. Instinctively I looked into the mirror, 
because I find it's better to know who enters the restroom. I frowned 
immediately when I recognised the redheaded woman.

The appearance of Katka wouldn't have been a big surprise. I also had a 
similar experience with another girl a couple of years back, but I hadn't 
thought about the redhead.

"Do you want to have a blowjob?" she asked, frankly and without any signs of 
hesitation. What was it with the young generation today? She was Katka's 
age, give or take a year, it was difficult to decide because of the bad 
lighting in the club.

She knelt down in front of me and her hands reached towards my zipper, 
obviously assuming that I would agree to her offer. Certainly nine out of 
ten men would have agreed. But it was my birthday and I wanted to enjoy this 
evening with my girlfriend. I definitely didn't want to risk this special 
relationship for a blowjob on a toilet in a club with too many unknown 
details.

"No," I said.

She froze in her motion.

"What?"

"Sorry, I can't. My girlfriend is waiting outside and I won't hurt her like 
this."

I left the restroom, leaving her behind, and headed for Katka.

* * *

Anouk and I didn't meet again for some years. We sometimes phoned with each 
other and after her graduation she moved to the South of France. One day, I 
got a call from her when she told me that she was pregnant.

I asked her if she was going to marry the father of the baby.

"No, he's just another guy who isn't worth it," she answered.

* * *

I saw the expression in Katka's eyes when I returned to her.

"What is?" I asked. Before I turned and saw the redhead who had obviously 
followed me back to the bar. Suddenly I felt like I was in a bad movie. 
Katka stared at me and the redhead as if she caught me with her in our 
bedroom at home. The redhead's face also seemed to have a startled 
expression.

The redhead spoke first.

"Katko, I don't know whether your boyfriend is the biggest loser I've ever 
met or if you have won the first price in the ultimate boyfriend lottery."

_'What was going on?'_

Katka emptied her glass and ordered another vodka. Actually she ordered two 
drinks. I already had a full glass of _Jameson_ so I wondered who she had 
ordered the second drink for.

"It's not what you think," both of us said at the same moment.

"I know," she continued.

"Did you set me up?" I asked. I felt the blood rush in my veins, heat waved 
through my body, and I was only seconds before erupting like a volcano with 
my anger.

She shook her head.

"I must tell you..."

"Well?"

"It was my plan," she said after a few seconds, "That's true. First I have 
to introduce Sharka to you. She's been one of my best friends for years."

"Did you test me? Is this what our discussion yesterday about jealousy was 
about?"

"Part of it, yes, but different to what you're believing now. Sorry, somehow 
my plan got messed up. Actually Sharka is part of your present. Maybe if she 
was wrapped in paper as well..."

"My present?" I asked, still wondering but then it hit me. "Wait! You gave 
me the present for immediate use?"

She nodded. "What do you think the condom was for?" she asked rhetorically.

Now it was my turn to empty my drink quickly. With my thumb and the index 
finger I signalised a "J" to the bar keeper and added a half-shouted 
"Double" to my order.

"Did you really expect me to hurt you so shamelessly?"

"I knew about it so it wouldn't have been a betrayal," she answered.

"But you forgot an important detail; I wasn't informed. A couple of years 
back your plan would have worked, but meeting and falling in love with you 
has changed things a lot. When I said 'I love you', I did not only say it, I 
meant it."

* * *

A couple of drinks later -- meanwhile Sharka and I got more comfortable with 
each other -- we left the club and went to the Mexican restaurant and had 
dinner, steaks with green pepper and baked potatoes.

"Let's go home for some fun," Katka proposed after the meal.

Sharka was charming and lot of fun, almost like Anouk had been. The drinks 
and the red wine we had with the steaks did help us to get back into a good 
mood.

"Do you think I can finally get my tongue on your cock? I've heard so much 
good news about it," Sharka asked.

"I would like that." I smiled.

And I wasn't surprised when I heard Katka say, "I am sure he will stuff your 
pussy and I know that I am eager to rape your ass with my strap-on."

It was Sharka's answer which was surprising.

"It has been so long."

* * *

Sharka, Katka, and I didn't get much sleep that night, though we spent most 
of it in the bed. When I needed a break they simply continued without me, 
presenting a good show for me so I refreshed quickly.

It was late in the night when I discovered that the tattoos on the girls' 
lower back weren't just similar but they were identical. This revelation 
made me climax again and I pulled out and shot my semen over Sharka's ass.

Presents are sometimes surprising for a long time after you have unwrapped 
them.

Since that day we're still going out with Sharka sometimes. We visit a disco 
or go into a club, but usually we end up fooling around in our bedroom.

Katka and I steadfastly decided to continue with our relationship, 
whirl-wind or not. We intend to show our friends, that it's up to us to 
determine our perspectives and to move with the horizon.



Editorial notes:

I had this story in my mind as a sequel to "New Years Night in the Red 5" 
since the time I posted that story. But only the experience of writing "A 
Spring Night in the Red 5" (posted to ASSM several weeks ago) made it 
possible to _write_ this story. Anyway, "A Birthday Night in the Red 5" is 
much longer than I originally intended.

Originally, I wanted to describe my fantasies about that redhead, but 
finally a very much autobiographical part (all about Anouk) made it into the 
text, but yet I don't know how. _Excuse-moi, mon ch�rie!_ Thus, the redhead 
had to stand back, but be assured that she will return.

I tried to preserve the specific style of grammar in the Czech language by 
using the respective forms of a name in the different cases; e.g. the 
accusative form is Mirek, while the vocative version of the barkeeper's name 
was Mirko. I also had to transcribe the name 'Sharka' (similar spoken as in 
'shower') for the posting in Usenet. If you want it more authentic, search 
and replace the "Sh" in her name with ASCII-138 (alternatively Š or 
Š in HTML).

The Shakespeare quote from Hamlet I got aware of for the first time in the 
English version, when I read "Book 3 -- Kendall" of Nick Scipio's wonderful 
story series "Summer Camp". It was him who inspired me to put words together 
and try to form a story for the first time. (You might have heard this 
statement by several other writers before but it's true.)


Franz Kafka's homepage is at:
http://www.geocities.com/franzkafka79/stories.html

A HTML version of this story is at:
http://www.geocities.com/franzkafka79/red-bday.html

_________________________________________________________________
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-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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