Disclaimer: I can hope, wish and dream that I own SpongeBob, but it's just wishful thinking. Stephen Hilenburg is the owner.

A/N: This chapter was re-updated 18/08/2013 due to the feeling that I could've wrote it better and I think I did. Hope you readers out there enjoy it!

Title: HAPPY BIRTHDAY

"U-unwrap a-a-and open?"

"Yes," said Sandy with an amiable voice, her bronze eyes benign, but her smile teasing. "unwrap and open yer gift, unless y'all need a lil' hand?" she questioned in half seriousness and half playfulness, however the SpongeBob did not see it as that.

Sandy's brown-furred hands guided SpongeBob's spongy ones to her waist, placing hers over his, she worked his fidgety fingers to undo the bow that closed her peignoir. When all that was left was to pull her the plush garment off her shoulders, he gulped and spoke,

"N-no, I don't need help." said SpongeBob as reassuringly as he could at the moment. It all seemed too much for him. He realised that just one jerk – one tug was all it would take for him to see his sweetheart au naturel. Meekly, he murmured her name, "Sandy." with such affection that nearly made her blush. "I-I don't think you have any idea, not a clue about how I want you. Want you, want you, I mean." he elaborated honesty, not noticing how his usual azure coloured eyes were turning into a prurient Persian blue. "I know it's my birthday, but gosh, Sandy I...I don't want ya to feel pressured and-"

Sandy interrupted him by forsaking and flinging the periwinkle peignoir that once hid her not clothed body. She didn't care for all the money in the world if garment landed on the important paperwork in her room, but she did care about the way once prurient eyes transformed into zealous ones.

At the splendid sight before him, he had not choice but to lick his lips and feel tortured as his lover bit hers. It became rather hard for him to remember why he had not been the one to strip her, however he wasn't complaining that Sandy did it herself.

Having always been an expressive individual, subtly never worked for him. This fact alone allowed Sandy to notice the excitement, eagerness and slight hesitance on his spongy face as his long ago zaffre zealous eyes turned sincere. He was asking her a silent plea of permission.

The urge to bellow out that it was his selfish day was tempting, however Sandy concurrently reminded that, "Bob, it's yer birthday. Try to enjoy yer gift." and placed an unchaste kiss upon his mouth to demonstrate what his present could do.

Her actions went along nicely with her words.

He understood.

She wanted it and he wanted and it was his birthday, so why the heck was he stalling?

In Sandy's point of view, the birthday-boy began to appreciate her in an unanticipated, but welcoming manner where she could hardly complain. Romantically, SpongeBob held and lifted her hand to press a sweet, soft and sentimental kiss upon it which left her confounded as well as cajoled. What's he doing? Sandy pondered, till spongy pecks ascended along the width of her arm, embracing all areas with such fair fervency, just before the region where her shoulder met her neck. There was a complete change of fairness there.

"S-spongeBob?"

His 'toying' with her. She would soon whimper and she did. Frustratingly so. It all had to do with the way the sponge assaulted her collar bone with playful licks and nips which served to render the squirrel sexually high. To boot, the manner in which a spongy hand sensually stroked her tail while the other and skimmed the bow of her bust, denied her the freedom to think clearly.

Looks like he really understood.

Perhaps he was enjoying his gift teased too much, or perhaps it was just the gift itself...it's most likely the former and latter. As Sandy voiced a full-mouthed moan she couldn't repress, she immediately felt a tinge of guilt that she was enjoying herself too much. (For the hundredth time) it was his birthday! She wanted him pleased, but then it came as an afterthought that him pleasing her pleased him. Now that she thought about it, no wonder! This was SpongeBob after all - aka the world's biggest people pleaser.

Although the sound that escaped out the squirrel's mouth was not yet a cry of want (but remarkably close), he still heard and mentally noted that it wouldn't take long that throaty noise and others come along – there was reason at long last as to why he was 'toying' with his gift. Just as she thought nothing could interrupt their intimate moment, his lips stopped unexpectedly.

Sandy whined.

Why did he do that? Couldn't he see how she yearned for his touch on her neck and other destinations of her body? Even if it was his birthday, that didn't mean he couldn't unveil a sneak peek of her birthday present in four months? Well, unbeknownst to the Sandy, SpongeBob paused in his ministrations for a purpose.

"You know," he said so hotly first, "I don't think I heard you greet me today." was uttered secondly abreast her ear so matter-of-factually (she'd be lying if that timbre of vice didn't affect her).

Sandy swore there was grin in his words.

"Oh, pardon me. How'd I forget?" she laughed softly. "Happy Birthday, SpongeBob."