The cake's gone, the presents opened. The kids are in bed and the thumping noises have finally stopped so I'm pretty sure they're asleep.

Matt watches as I finish the dishes. He's still sitting in the chair of honor -- wrapping paper in drifts around his legs. I throw the dishrag down and turn to him.

"So how we doin' birthday boy?"

He shrugs. "It's finally happened."

"What?"

"I've turned into my father." He gestures at the pile of gifts. "Three ties, a tool box and a sweater."

"Well the kids picked the ties."

"I figured. I like the Daffy Duck."

I sashay over and sit, straddling his legs. "You haven't gotten my gift yet."

"Really? I thought the sweater…"

I shake my head, "That was for show. To fool your parents and the munchkins."

"Mmmm," he grins. "Don't keep me in suspense."

I rock against him once and his cock twitches. "Be right back."

I walk over to the utensil drawer and open it. "I've always wanted one of these, but never knew what I'd use it for." I show him the marble utensil with the bright red bow.

Matt's eyes widen, "What the fuck?"

I grab the cord for the beaters and saunter back. "Hands behind your back, birthday boy."

"Uh, Lorrie, I don't…"

"Do it," I soften the order with a quick lick to his ear.

The knot isn't secure, but it's the idea that's the turn on. The bulge in his pants tells me Matt agrees.

I slide to my knees and lean over and take his zipper in my mouth. My hands undo the snap as I pull down with my teeth. His cock springs free.

"Forty years old and no underwear. What would your mother say?"

"Ugh," Matt groans. "Just suck it!"

"Okay," I grin. "But only because you ask so nicely."

He's hot and wet, but so is my tongue. I know the territory and what he likes. It doesn't take long until he's humping my mouth and his balls draw up for the final blast.

It's what I've been waiting for.

"Don't stop!" He's almost frantic, but I ignore him.

I grab the waistband of his jeans and tug hard. He almost slides off the chair. His tied hands behind the back stop him as his ass hits the edge. I pick up what I'd shown him earlier and lean up to the table next to us. I grab the butter keep and push off the lid smearing the slippery ooze around the cool stone.

"Wait, what is that?" He looks at the thing like it might shoot bullets.

"A pestle," I reply. "Or mortar, I don't remember now."

"I don't think…"

"Then don't."

I kiss him hard then slide down to recapture his cock. It distracts him while my hands spread his ass. The round egg of marble touches his hole and he shivers, but there's nothing he can do to prevent me from breeching him.

"Shit!"

One short sharp cry and I wait until tense muscles relax. Then as my mouth moves over his cock, my hand pushes it in.

"Oh Jesus," Matt's eyes widen as I find his prostrate. "Oh fuck, what are you doing to me?"

I assume it's a rhetorical question.

His legs tremble and he throws his head back and yells. I swallow his cock and press further into him, always pushing until it's too much. My mouth fills with his cream.

"Still feel like your father?"

"If I do," he gasps at last. "Then he's one very lucky son of a bitch."