**Birthday Wishes**

It wasn't that she was making rainbow confetti cake. It wasn't that she was using creamy frosting with rainbow sprinkles. It wasn't even the way that she had generously let him taste and lick the batter and frosting while sitting in a comfy chair drinking his favorite bourbon. 

It was the fact that she was wearing only panties and a see through, pink lace nighty while she did all those things- And that is what made him very, very, happy. 

Granted, Andrew loved cake more than a fat kid loves, well, cake; and yes, granted, he did have a penchant for pretty girls in very unsubstantial clothing- but honestly, Darcy could have made him Icelandic hákarl for dessert while wearing a Mormon chastity gown and he still would have thought himself the luckiest guy in earth.

Darcy set the bowl she had been mixing down and lighted over to the oven, her bare feet shuffling across the cold tile floor. True to form, her legs were bare as well, and even from sitting at the bar, he could see that they were freshly shaved and, hoping he could confirm this hypothesis later on, silky smooth to the touch. 

Darcy checked the oven as it pre-heated, then opened the swing door- a blast of hot air rushed up and redden Darcy's face, flitting her hair in all directions up. 

"Guess it's ready," she concluded, fanning herself off. "Whew! You're making me work really hard for your birthday, Andrew!" She flashed him a toothy smile that may have indicated that she really didn't mind that fact- not that she would admit that, since she had volunteered to bake the cake anyhow a few days ago.

Andrew grinned right back at her, leaning forward in his chair and swirling his drink. 
"Come on now... You volunteered to do this!" 

She stuck her tongue out at him and started to grease a glass pan with canola. She chuckled and moved it over, grabbing the bowl where the cake mix now resided. 

"Well yeah..." She began pouring the batter in smooth and practiced motion, belying years of experience- which was true- Darcy loved to bake: cookies, cakes, breads- You name it. "Yeah, but I thought you meant a cake for your size!" She laughed, widening her eyes- "a cup cake!" She was highly amused by her own joke, and Andrew couldn't help but chuckle himself.

"But now you're making me make this huge cake that you're gonna eat, what, a hundredth of?" 

Andrew scoffed at the idea, shifting In his seat again. He took another drink and then set the glass, something scaled down that Darcy had found online, down next to the chair he sat on- another found online item, 3-D printed, in fact. 

"I'll, I'll eat a lot of it. So much cake. Like, you won't even know, dude." His voice lilted up and slow like some marijuana fiend. "Soooo much." He knelt out of this chair and reached for the now almost filled pan that Darcy was scraping batter into. 

"So much, huh?" Darcy asked doubtfully, the corner of her mouth twitching up and raising an eyebrow. She set the bowl down, satisfied she wasn't going to get any more sprinkled cake batter out, then tapping the rubber spatula on the side of the pan. She was about to reach over and toss the spatula in the sink when instead she brought it over and stuck it in front of Andrew.

"Here," she offered, smiling at him. 

Andrew reached over, scooping a fingerfull of batter and sucked it into his mouth. He smacked his lips loudly, eliciting a half-disapproving brow furrow from Darcy. 

"So good. You make the best batter, Darc."

She blushed, grinning and leaning over on the counter so she wasn’t extending her arm so much. 

"Yeah? Welllllllll," she drew out, "thank ya very much. Although," she said, retreating the spoon and taking a small lick herself, "I think my cake's better." She smacked her lips as well, unironically. "But that batter is pretty dang good..." 

"See? I told you. You've got the magic touch!" He held out his arms, cocking his head as if to present herself to herself. "Everything you make is delicious. Really." Then, as a cherry on top, "I mean it."

Darcy grinned, still blushing at the charming little suitor. She felt good, the compliments leaving her all warm and fuzzy in both her heart and down south. 

She wasn't one, however, for basking in compliments (for too long, that is)- she set the spoon down and reached over for the little man, plucking him between thumb and fore. 

The motion was a practiced one- it had been a couple of months since the two had their reckoning and became an item, foregoing handing Andrew over to the care of the state and into, technically, Darcy's custody (though neither of them really called it that). The eleventh hour decision had brought its own myriad of challenges, but both agreed that it was the best decision. Darcy was grateful that they had had no accidents that jeopardized Andrew's safety, so practice had to be put into place to safely transport and manipulate Andrew's person with care- hours and hours of plucking Andrew up (both in practice and in earnest) had left Darcy with a smooth muscle memory action, perfecting her grip pressure and weight distribution to ensure Andrew had a comfortable ride every time he was picked up for transport, talking, or more fun, adult activities. 

None of this actually occurred in Darcy's mind as she brought him up to her house-sized face and billboard smile. She beamed down at him and grinned, pearly whites filling his vision and thoughts with, however briefly, a feeling of vulnerability. 

"You're too kind, Andrew," she spoke, letting her breath wash over him softly, flitting his hair about. "Sometimes, though, I wonder-" she softly kissed him and lighted her tongue tip across his face, "are you just saying that because I'm bigger than you?" A knowing smile crossed her lips and she cocked an eyebrow. 

"No way," Andrew scoffed at the idea, using his hands as if to dismiss the notion. "It's all true. Your stuff is delicious. Why else would I let you make a cake for me?"

"Maybe you didn't want to offend the giant girl who's holding you? I mean, I wouldn't want to offend you if we were in opposite positions."

Andrew grinned and shook his head. 

"Nope. I mean it. Your stuff is delicious."

"Oh really," she asked, putting a finger to her lips and looking up, "I'm not so sure. Then again, I didn’t get as much a taste as you did. I wonder," she started, giggling to herself as she manipulated Andrew to face down, him grabbing at her fingers and tossing his head and torso about, trying in vain to upright himself. 

"I wonder," she said again, "do you want to help me taste a bit more?"

She unceremoniously flipped Andrew and slid him, back first, across cake batter in the pan, coating him in the viscous stuff. Reflexively she held her hand out below him to catch any falling particles lest they hit the floor. 

She brought him swinging to her mouth, and her perceived, rather than felt or saw, a lithe pink tongue licking luscious red lips, already wet in anticipation. He turned his head, and he just saw the tip of her little muscle retreat into behind her, yes, he confirmed, wet lips. 

"You know, my mom always warned me to not eat the batter," she teased. 

"Why?" Andrew hundred her. "For the salmonella or the whole cannibalism thing?"

To answer, Darcy stuck her tongue out and licked a smidgen of the dripping batter off from her morsel's face. She brought it in, swallowed it (making sure she lifted her head so Andrew could see the bolus retreat down down down her throat), and issued a full throated chuckle, one that came from her belly. 

"Well, little guy, you can just call me Darcy Dahmer..."

She might have heard his very nearly concerned yelps of 'no no no not even close to funny dude,' but she was laughing too loudly. In fact, she was still laughing as she stuck her tongue out and dragged it across his back and occasionally sucked the batter off of him. Now a practiced motion, she licked him and lapped up all of it, her tongue finding crevices that might've been previously unexplored prior to their relationship and size disparity. 

She savored the taste of batter and the salty flavor of perspiration as she finished off her meal, catching the last bit from his face with a playful lick. 

"All clean!" She declared, flipping him upright and setting him on the counter. He was busying himself marching over to the towel Darcy had set next to the sink and wiping off while she placed the cake into the steamy oven, setting the timer for how many ever minutes. 
She had wondered if she had gone too far when she saw him shoot her a rueful grin from behind the towel. 

"Two washings on my birthday. I'll be the cleanest, smallest, most cake-loving twenty eight year old ever."

Darcy closed the oven door with a bump of her hip and sauntered back over to the sink, removing the hot gloves from her hands.

"So oooooooooold."

"What? Not at all."

"Ooooold."

"No I-"

"Old. How did I start a relationship with such an old guy?"

She leaned down on the counter, aware that the look she was giving him could sour milk. She brought her hands to her chin and laid her head to rest on them, smiling blissfully. 

"You..."

Darcy cocked an eyebrow.

"Yes? I...?"

"You..."

"Mmhmm...?"

She grinned, rather evilly up at her- Darcy got a sinking feeling.

"You young whippersnapper. Hey Darcy guess what."

"...what."

"I was a sophomore while you were still in middle school."

The observation, in Andrew's opinion, had the desired effect- much more so than he expected, which pleased him all the better. If looks could not kill, but maybe, say, convey such discomfort that it caused everyone in the building and surrounding fifty yard radius to experience secondhand awkwardness, Darcy possessed such a look. Such was her internal realization and coping with that particular revelation- in fact, all higher cognitive function had ceased, Werner's and Broca's areas stopped their hectic as complex neurotransmitter flow, and all six of the Big Six distilled into one long drawn out 

"Ewwwwwwwwww."

Andrew didn't mind age right then, he supposed- with it came a ripened and utterly useful cunning.

************************* 

"Happy birthday day, dear andrewwwwwwwwWWWWWwwwwoo woo woo woo woo wooooooo~"

Andrew failed to suppress an amused snort, which Darcy ignored, then, taking a deep breath,

"Happybirthdaytoyou!"

Andrew clapped, amused by the little show- he was in truth flattered, her taking all this time and effort to bake a cake (which did in fact get done, despite her penchant for batter-licking), and her singing- she had a lovely singing voice, though she often kept it to herself (or at least she tried to- apparently she thought the shower was a lot more soundproof than it actually was, making Andrew the sole audience member of many a concerto and solo pieces over his morning coffee). 
He went over to the extra large slice of cake she had cut for him, which wasn't proportioned to his size ("well, it's your birthday- you get all the cake you want!"), and regarded the lit candle. The body of the flame itself was as big as his torso- there was no way he could blow it out himself. 

Still, he tried.

He huffed and he puffed, he jumped but was stumped. 

He raspberried finally, and sat down. 

"I guess I don't get a birthday," he mock pouted, "I can't even blow out the candle."

Darcy, who had been watching all this is a bemused smile, plucked up the little man and gave him a quick peck on the head. 

"Hey, hey, what kind of talk is that? None of that sad stuff in your birthday... See, watch," she brought him and her face close to the flame, close enough for him to feel the get radiating from the candle. 

"On three, okay?" She spoke softly, making the flame flicker and dance. "One, two," 
Andrew blew his lungs out, determined to contribute something to snuff out the candle- he knew, in fact, that he blew slightly before Darcy started, an he saw, with delight, the flame tilt and wobble just a little bit, as if kissed by the wind. Pride swelled in him, something he knew to be ridiculous- even so, the sting was none less when he felt the puff of air pass his back by and cut the flame away. A gray tendril of smoke snaked its way up into the ceiling- Andrew half wondered when the last time he changed the smoke detector batteries. 

"Happy birthday, Andrew," Darcy purred, and she stroked his back with her fingernail, causing him to shiver. He turned to face her, and he kissed her on the lip. She returned the gesture, engulfing his upper body and head in a warm and sensual embrace. It was brief, but it bespoke so much- the tenderness of young and sweet love. 

"So what did you wish for?" She asked, pulling back from the kiss. "Elevator shoes?" 

"Ear plugs," he countered, all the while bracing for the stomach poke he practically asked for with his answer. "No... I dunno. Well, yes, I do know- but I can't tell you!" He chided. "It won't come true if I do."

Darcy gave a face and chuckled at him. 

"Crazy talk. I've never believed that."

"Yeah?" He took the bait.

"Yeah! See, watch-" she reached over for her fork next to her plate (empty, he now realized), and brought it over. She stuck it into the cake, Andrew's actually, and scooped a piece out. She held it to her waiting mouth.

"I wished for cake," she began. Her mouth opened, and the cake went in without ceremony, a drip of stray rainbow frosting sticking to her lip on the way in. She began to chew, smiling and squinting her eyes at the little man in her other hand. "Fee? Nnd mow I haf cayk.” The way she chewed gave Andrew the funny feeling that maybe this scene was common in Darcy's childhood- the image of a chubby Darcy stuffing down cake amused him to no end. 

Darcy seemed to notice his bemusement and gave a look. 

"Dun mae foon."

"I'm not making fun. Honest." A smile cracked onto his face despite his best efforts. To pad his mistake over, he changed the subject.

"So you got your wish," he said dismissively. "Big whoop. Is that all you wished for?"

Darcy set Andrew down and grabbed her glass of wine that was near where his chair resided. She took a swallow to wash down the confectionary treat. 

"Well," she began, setting the glass down and leaning over, bringing her nose close to him. "I also wished..." She giggled and plucked Andrew up by his chest and set him down on the cake. He bounced slightly upon landing, the sponginess of it a testament to her cooking skill. The fragrance of it wafted up lightly into Andrew's nostrils, and he found himself delighted by the smell. He reached down and grabbed a handful of the stuff and bit into it. 

Divine- a symphony of light and sweet flavors, hinting of vanilla and the smooth buttercream that complimented it. Darcy was a true artist. 

He was so occupied by the culinary deliciousness that that he failed to notice Darcy's fork come up behind him and dig into the soft sponge. Doing so caused him to tip back slightly, and before he knew it, the fork had ascended with both him and a bit of food attached to it. 

"Hey," he perfunctorily barked, grabbing onto the edge of the fork. He was lifted to her mouth, her tongue lolling out and occasionally dragging across a lip. 

"I also wished," she continued, "that I would have some tasty little company while I ate said cake." She grinned at him, wildly, and then in he went. 

It was dark, and, well, smelled like a lot of things. It smelled like the distinct scent of Darcy, followed by a close waft of saliva. It also smelled like cake, and, to top it, it smelled like the remnants of an expensive red wine that Darcy usually reserved for company and special occasions. 

He supposed, absentmindedly, that eating your boyfriend was a special occasion.

Not that he was worried.

He felt the tongue writhe across him, pulling at his shirt and pressing against his legs. He heard a deep and sonorous growl emerge from Darcy's throat, a scarce inch or two away from him. And beyond that, a churning belly just waiting and eager for a little meal.

Well, maybe he was a little worried. Just a little. 

"Mm-mm," she hummed, causing a wave of pleasure to work through him, "best birthday ever," she spoke, the weird pressures of air zipping throughout her opening and closing mouth causing his ears to pop. 

"I don't think you remember who's birthday it is, kid..." 

She churned him around for a bit- careful to pause every little bit to let in air. The experience was not in the least unpleasurable for Andrew- at least, not insofar that it got him pretty wet- and, from the way her tongue playfully poked and prodded between his legs, hard. 

Finally she let him out, pressing him into her hand with a gentle push of her tongue. It was certainly not one of their longer ‘mouthplays,’ as they found the term online to say, but it was enough that both seemed to enjoy themselves. Maybe Darcy a little more so that Andrew, he concluded.

“Well,” he started, sputtering a cough out, “that was certainly not on the agenda for today’s festivities.” 

He had her set him down and walked over to his cake, taking a big handful and biting into it. Still just as good as the last.

“I fink fat…”

He chuckled and swallowed his bite.

“I think that maybe cake should be a one on one thing for the rest of the night, yeah?”

He watched her pout adorably and lean in closer, taking her fork and spooning a bite, sans Andrew, into her mouth. The chewing this time was much less ostentatious than the last, which made him smile. She was sweet, she was, putting on a show just to be playful. Part of him knew that this was her effort to spice things up, let him know that she cared for his activity (hers was generally the only interaction he received at this size, apart from the occasional dinner party with friends or bar hopping).

But the other part of him, the very hopeful one, knew (or sincerely hoped, rather) that she was truly into this kind of stuff. You know, sexual stuff. He loved being first her boyfriend, but there was a deeper part of him, a primal part, that enjoyed being that toy, that little bit of food for her. It was like, well, a call from the wilder side of him. Animalistic. More than like it stemmed from size disparity, but there was a very tangible… dare he think it, dominance aspect to it. 

It went back to that whole ‘being a pet’ bit wherein their original conflict stemmed from- not a day after his diminishing, she had jokingly suggested that she be his mistress, and he her pet- the thought offended at first, mostly because the novelty of it all scared the living daylights out him- but, with time, and gentle prodding by a scantily-clad Darcy, he grew fond of it. Now, not months later from her agreement to take guardianship of him, and the commencement of their relationship, he found himself quite… well, not enamored or obsessed with the sexual stuff, but… fond.

Their relationship was paramount- all other auxiliary relationships, secondary. The connection between the two participants most to him. 

But boy howdy, did he love being her little man.

“Well,” she conceded after a few seconds, blowing the stray strands of hair from her face, “I suppose. I can give you your birthday present after cake, right?”

Andrew (very badly) feigned surprise and embarrassment.

“Oh, Darcy, no… you shouldn’t have…”

She grinned and rose up, walking over to the counter and rounded it. She winked at him and started walking to the bedroom, a slight bounce in her step.

“I’ll be right back, little guy.”

A couple of minutes later, she returned, and Andrew had nearly finished his cake. She a-trot-trot-trotted over to him and set down a very tiny, rectangular box in front of him, grinning like mad and setting her hand into a pocket of the red silken night robe he noticed that she had donned. 

“Go ahead! Open it!”

She practically bubbled, encouraging him and biting her lower lip. He heard the faint sound of her bare feet bouncing up and down on the cold tile, thudding and resounding- a giddy dance that told him a lot about what might happen soon.

He tore off the wrapping paper, agonizingly slow much to Darcy’s chagrin. He was almost sorry to do so- it must have taken her a long while to tape, fold, and close the paper around the box- something just a bit bigger than her thumbnail, he reckoned. 

Inside the superhero wrapping was a foldable cardboard box- it had a tiny logo printed on it, a very tiny silhouette of a person standing next to the stylized and printed words ‘Smallwear’- a recent start up, he knew- just local there in Atlanta. 

“Oh? And what’s this…?” he pondered aloud, practically envisioning Darcy biting her lip harder above him. 

Opening the box, he found a shirt, a soft cotton special weave, specifically made for diminished folk. On it was it said ‘Beach Bum.’ Below that was a pair of flip flops, and further below, a pair of 

“Swimming trunks?”

He looked up at Darcy, who fixed at him a pleasant smile. She nodded her head and said,

“Yuh-huh. You’ll be needing that stuff for next month- it’s gonna be a scorcher in Florida!”

Out of her pocket she pulled a piece of paper folded. She unfolded it, beckoned Andrew to stand off to one side, and laid the paper down, the bottom of the text facing him. Once flattened he walked over and onto the paper- on it was a grainy picture of a hotel front and another of a room with two beds. He read the title on top.

“Four days, three nights, riverside, Fernandina Beach…” He glanced up at Darcy who was smiling proudly at, he suspected, herself. “Florida?” He asked inquisitively.

She nodded softly at him and spoke up, pointing to the paper.

“Yep! All bought and paid for. Only five hours away by car, too. Remember, we had talked about going to the beach this summer, but I feel like,” she blushed a little bit, “we’ve gotten so used to our routine and with your, well…” she bobbed her head side to side, almost embarrassed to say it, “your diminishing, I feel like doing this could be really good for you.” Then, snapping her fingers, she started to say while widening her wooden brown eyes, “A-a-and, don’t worry, this didn’t come from our, your cache we talked about- this came from my personal account.” She continued her grin. “A beach road trip on Darcy’s dime!” 

He was flattered- touched, actually- he smiled wide and stood up. 

“Darcy, this…” he tried to find the right words. “This is so much. Too much, even.” He bit his lip, trying not to let his smile get the best of him.

"Thank you. Thank you so, so much. This is wonderful!"

She leaned over and smooched his head, stroking his back while she did so. 

"You are so very welcome, little man. I'm looking forward to it as well!"

He grinned at her and then scooped up another bit of cake. He was about to bite into it when he stopped short, suddenly realizing something. 

"You know," he began, taking only a small nibble at the baked good, "I really shouldn't eat this. We're going to the beach in a short month and I've got to maintain my beach body." Negating what he said, he took another bite of the cake. 

Darcy nodded, making a face that apparently conceded that point.

"Well, that is true... But you know, my basketball coach always told me that I could eat whatever I wanted as long as I got enough aerobic exercise in. Running, swimming... Y'know, stuff that really gets your heart rate up to burn fat."

"I fee wit you min," Andrew said through a mouthful of rainbow confetti. 

"Yep. So, you can go ahead and eat all the cake you want, Andrew..."

Her hands snaked down to the ties silk ribbons that held the red robe closed and undid them- the robe slid off with a whisper of sound onto the ground, revealing a new pair of panties and bra that Darcy had bought- royally purple lace, a small metal clasp on the front of the bra, meant to be opened as such. On her crotch and each breast was a blue blue bow stuck to the lace.

"Because I've got a great idea for cardio tonight to burn off all those calories."

She plucked him up and held him to her sternum, chest level with the bra clasp. Swallowing what was left of the cake, he reached over and tugged at the clasp- it shot undone, and the bra split open and fell to the floor also, exposing two dark and firm breasts with nipples erect, goose flesh tantalized by the sudden onrush of air. 

He looked up at her, she was biting her lip, that old savage look in her eyes gleaming at him- playful, yet predatory. Wild, yet tender. 

"Well well," Andrew said to her, looking from her eyes to each breast and back up to her face, "my wish came true also."