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Written by conceptfan :: [Thursday, 30 March 2006 10:21] Last updated by :: [Thursday, 27 December 2012 09:25]


by Conceptfan



The gentlest of evening breezes tickled the candle-flames before going on to ruffle the palm-tree leaves behind him. Overhead, countless bright stars looked on from the cloudless black sky.

He thought of other times he’d tried to impress a woman. The nerves he had felt, looking over at the girl he was desperately trying to impress. The gnawing worry that he might do something wrong, displease her and ruin everything. This time, it was a thousand times worse.

He looked at her across the flickering candles and recited a silent prayer that everything – the place, the candles, the music – would please her. It was no small ask, to please a woman like her. So much thought had gone into each detail of the evening. He could only hope that the correct decisions had been reached. After all, there was only one chance to get it right.

So far, he had been unable to tell if she was pleased or not. He tried to study her stunning face in the dancing, orange light, but could not read satisfaction or displeasure on its perfect features and so instead, he reflected on how smoothly everything seemed to be going. Surely, she would appreciate the efforts that had been made.

She gazed down over the candles. There was no doubt, they made a beautiful sight. So pretty in the dark night and so carefully arranged. It must have taken a great deal of planning. Beneath the twin arcs of her perfectly symmetrical, thin eyebrows and long, lush lashes, her large, clear brown eyes drank in the scene. There was so much to see, but her beautiful eyes could see it all. Nothing could hide from her gaze.

Likewise, her pretty, immaculately-proportioned nose detected every odour for miles around. Long, straight dark hair fell either side of her face, obscuring her ears but not blocking their ability to hear even the beating wings of tiny insects. Or the beating of hearts. Nervous hearts.

Turning her head to take in more of the view, she noted more details of the remarkable display of candles. So much care had been taken over the positioning of each and every flame. She smiled. Her full, deep red and slightly pouting lips parted sensuously, displaying her lovely teeth, so flawlessly white, so straight and square. Her superhuman eyes, ears and nose detected the various immediate reactions to the change in her expression. She loved the way her beauty could both awe and arouse.

She was wearing a simple black evening dress for the occasion. Thin straps ran over each of her smooth round shoulders. Both her long, shapely arms were bare, but for all the exposed flesh, not a single blemish was visible. The gown was cut low. The tan skin of her neck was as flawless as that of her arms, and as flawless as the visible portions of her torso.

But it was not her complexion – as perfect as it was – that hungrily drew attention to that area of her body beneath her chin. Her breasts were beyond compare with any other woman on the planet. Their generous size, particularly given their unworldly firmness and the way they stood out so high and so proud on her chest, would have made any female into an object of uncontrollable lust. On a frame as slender as hers, they appeared even more dramatic, even more erotic.

The outlines of their perfect roundness were clearly noticeable beneath the black fabric, as was the prominent shape of a large nipple at the exact centre of each of her magnificent globes. The cut of the garment left the inner part of her bosoms on display, an acre of firm, immaculate cleavage bordered by the most luscious of luscious curves.

The tight dress also showed off her remarkably flat waist, its narrowness made all the more obvious by the way the sides of her body curved so wonderfully inwards beneath her bust and then, equally majestically, flared outwards at her round hips. The stunning undulating lines continued down her body, defining her firm thighs. The gown’s hem was above her knees. More immaculate flesh could be seen beneath, her beautiful legs tapering into delicate-looking ankles.

The candles continued to flicker, although their combined glow could never hope to compete with her natural radiance. But competition was not the purpose of the candles. Neither was illuminating the dark. Her lovely eyes could penetrate even the blackest night without trouble. The candles were there for an altogether different reason. They were there to praise her. All fifty thousand of them.

He continued to hold his candle aloft, still hoping that she would like what she saw. Casting anxious glances to the sides, he observed the flame-bearers to his left and his right and those in front of him. Everyone was exactly in place, just as they had rehearsed so many times over the past few weeks. And everyone was scared. Scared that she might not like her birthday salute.

Fifty thousand flames flickered on the side of the hill, arranged with meticulous care and practice so that, from where she stood on the balcony of her palace, the dots of light spelt out, in immaculate, calligraphic letters, the words “Happy Birthday to our Goddess.”

Along with forty-nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine other candle-bearers he prayed that the display would please her.


She swept her eyes over the worshipful crowd once more. So many of her subjects, all determined to ensure that their performance was worthy of her. And such a pretty result. The effort, the pre-planning, the scale and the beauty of it was a fitting tribute for an occasion as auspicious as this one. She was satisfied with her birthday salute.

All that remained was for her to blow out her candles. She smiled broadly in wicked anticipation as she inhaled a mighty lungful of air, pushed out her gorgeous lips and began to blow …

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