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Her Birthday
It was her 50th birthday, no family or friends to celebrate with, at least not here. Why did this conference have to fall right on her birthday? Even so she refused to let it spoil her special day. She was going to have something special for her birthday.

The hotel was nice. It was sort of exciting to be right downtown. She would have to thank her boss. She had checked out some of the nearby shops earlier in the day. The hotel restaurant did not give off the same feeling that you often get in hotel restaurants. It was classy instead of merely attempting to be classy to justify the price. The food made her savor every bite. The wine was a bit pricey but the offer to send the rest of the bottle to her room made it easy to justify.

She sat on the couch and called her family while flipping through the guest services directory. She was about to flip the page when she saw it. She knew what her birthday present was going to be. "Good-bye, I love you" she said and then toggled the switch and immediately her fingers were dialing the front desk.

"Yes, about 30 minutes, no problem I will take care of it" said the concierge.

It was done, and now that it was done the doubts began to creep in. She wasn't so sure. "Forget it," she told herself.

She chose the music carefully and stepped into the shower and when she finished she had another dilemma on her mind. What would she wear? Should she wear a robe, pajamas, underwear - there was no silk negligee or anything like that - she was traveling alone, there was no one to impress. "What do I wear or not wear?" If she were going to make a mistake she was definitely going to error on the side of wearing too much.

"Ugh, why did I do this?" She walked to the phone about to pick it up to cancel the whole thing, she stopped.

"I am going to go through with this."
"Never in 50 years and I am going to do this tonight."

She poured herself a glass of wine, lit the candles around the room. They were actually nice. Not exactly what she would have chosen but pleasing and relaxing.

"Oh my" she said to herself surprised that her wine glass was again empty. "Look at me, it's like I am going out on my first date." As she thought back to that night she remember the face of her husband, so young, just a kid, the only man who had ever touched her.

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. She jumped. Her heart skipped a beat, "just ignore it" a voice inside her said - and she did for a moment.

It was the second knock that summoned her resolve. She pushed doubt from her mind and walked quickly to the door. She opened it without checking the peep hole and chastised herself as she did so. A man with a large case stood at the door. Not really what she expected, not some slim trim 20 something girl and not a tennis pro type with 6 pack abs and perfect teeth. Before her was a man, large but gentle, thick and powerful with a kindness in his eyes. His smile and voice made the awkwardness melt away. She invited him, introductions were made and she explained her situation.

It was at the mention of "birthday" that his eyes lit up. And from that moment he took the questions out of her hands. While he unfolded the table, he explained how he was going to step into the bathroom so she could get herself situated. He gave her a large towel that in his words "would protect her modesty" and with the words "Let me know when you are ready," he stepped into the bathroom.

The fluffy hotel robe lay at her feet then she quickly lay down on the table and pulled the large towel over her. He was right about the towel protecting her modesty but it wasn't protecting her thoughts. They were racing as she thought about her situation; a hotel room with a man obviously much larger and more powerful than her; naked underneath a towel - apprehension was wresting with excitement and she had no idea which one had the upper hand. When she called that she was ready he came out, asked about the music, and again there was something about his voice and manner that put her at ease. She smelt the aroma of the oil before she felt it. It was warm as it touched her skin.

He began at her feet, his large hands and fingers finding parts in her foot that she had never felt before. His fingers glided deeply as he explored all the tiny joints and tissues. The balls of her feet, her heel, even her Achilles all softened like butter under his strong hands. She shivered as his freshly oiled hands touched her calf muscles somehow able to seek out and release tension that she had not even been aware was there.

It was her ears that first told her that her apprehension had melted away as they caught the tail end of a moan that escaped her lips, the same lips that were now curled in a peaceful smile. She failed to hide her giggle as his fingers danced over that ticklish place on the back of her knee, not that she really put much effort into it.

His hands were bold and confident. They weren't shy; they didn't ask permission or hesitate. When she tensed the muscles in her leg as his fingers skated up her inner thigh he simply lifted her leg and held it as his hands traveled where they wanted to. But, somehow it wasn't creepy either - the towel was always there. He wasn't trying to work it up higher on her legs - with him protecting her modesty she didn't need to. He simply wasn't going to allow her self-consciousness to keep him from giving her the best he had to offer. The moans echoed in her ears and his oiled fingers relieved the tension in her hamstrings. His fingers somehow sensed just how far to go before beginning their retreat.

Before, she even considered his next move he had moved up to her neck. Not really her neck but instead all those areas on the back of the skull that you don't even know want to be touched until somebody finds them and when they do....you just can't get enough. And then, he moved on to her neck. His fingers didn't just glide over the muscles. He stirred them without ever causing discomfort. Her shoulders melted and then came to life under his strong hands. Her arms had been at her sides (holding that towel down) but now he picked up one, and then the other. And, beginning with her fingers he worked his way to her shoulders. Each inch studied by fingers that knew what they were looking for.

By the time he returned to her shoulder blades her arms were no longer guarding the towel. When it was folded down to the swell of her hips she smiled and a small moan escaped her lips. She marveled at his fingers. It was like they could see tension and with a touch they would release her muscles. The only sign on her body that a man's hands were exploring her ass underneath the towel was a sigh and a shifting of her hips. Her face was a picture of peace and contentment.

He turned around and she turned over. The towel covered her but it was no longer protecting her. His hands made another lap around the track of her body. This time they stopped before she wanted them to and they retreated when she wanted them to attack. No longer did he move her legs where he wanted them to go because she was moving where she wanted him to go. High up on her hips across her belly, his strokes had changed. They were faster and more intense but not reaching the need that was inside her. His oiled fingers felt like they were everywhere, her inner thighs, then the tops of her hip bone, then tracing lines across the top of her pelvis. Brushing lightly across her mound but they were never there!

My god, she thought as she caught herself squeezing her thighs and clenching her toes. "Is he blind? Can't he see what is happening?" And when she was almost there he stopped, oiled his hands and moved up to her shoulders.

Her eyes and thighs were both clenched tight. He stood at the top of her head leaning over her but she did not open her eyes. She knew that if she did open them, she would pull him down to kiss him. At least something would be penetrated she thought, smiling to herself. But his hands acted like they felt no desire and certainly none of the urgency that was building in her. How could they be so through and gentle? Her forehead, her temples, her cheeks, her ears - waves of pleasure mixed with hunger flowed over her. It seemed like it was an eternity before he arrived at the base of her neck.

Finally she thought, he would reach for her breasts and the.... But no it was as if his fingers were irritatingly blind to what was before them. As if they couldn't see her breasts and the swollen nipples that graced them. The towel was gone and she did not care when or how it disappeared. But still he lingered, his fingers finding muscles when they should have been twisting and pulling. Or, delving and probing to be more to the point. And when he did touch, it was with these rapid oiled circle motions that caused here skin to come alive and tingle all over. And even more excruciating was the incessant brushing of his fingers against her nipples. It wasn't the touch she desired but oh my god was it ever driving her crazy. Her thighs were clenched and her toes were curling and she could feel a drop of her dew trickling lower down the crack of her ass. It only emphasized the desire that was begging to be acknowledged. Her nipples had always been extremely sensitive and the tiny brushes of his fingers were driving her to the brink. "Finally" she thought, as she felt him grasp her breast firmly in one hand. Squeezing to make her nipples swell even more and then with his other hand he began to massage her areola. She no longer heard her own moans.

The peace and pleasure had been replaced by the furrowing of her brow and the biting of her lip. "Just squeeze the damn thing already" but just as the thoughts raced through her brain his touch was all gone. She peeked and his face completely masked any knowledge of her desire, or his. This time the oil dripped agonizingly slowly from the bottle onto her other nipple. Each drip hitting and then running down and by the third drop her hips were off the table. And then, the pressure of his hands returned. They engulfed her breast and began again the agonizing pleasure of massaging her areola.

The brink came rushing suddenly this time. Before she knew it she was on it. Hips rose again. The moan came from the back of her throat, and then nothing. She collapsed panting. His hands moved to her stomach. It no longer mattered. At this point every inch of her was hardwired for pleasure. Her legs were open. Her lips were protruding and already open. The dew of her desire was pudding on the table. Her clit was swollen and hard. And still the hands lingered. The stomach, her side and then it was like he was trying to reach under her pelvic bone but every motion only forced the walls of her pussy to rub back and forth against each other. She released a "Yesssssss" from her soul when finally his hands made their way between her legs. .And still he lingered. She shifted her hips. She raised them. She opened them. As a "pleeeaaase" escaped her lips she pleaded. Yet his hands refused to penetrate, refused to touch her there. They lingered, one side then the other. Not on the inside where she so desperately needed it but beside her open pussy, pushing the walls of her pussy and her lips together without ever penetrating her. And then when he began to rub the wet base of her cunt she felt his finger gliding over the rosebud of her bottom. She knew she was about to come undone...hips in the air, toes curled, a "fuck yes" on her lips. And when she thought that was it. She felt him suck her hard clit into his mouth, grasping it with his lips he held it firm as his tongue vibrated back and forth while a low moan vibrated her soul. Hips pumping, back arching, tits swaying, she came, in waves, her juices gushing out wetting his shirt. Slowly the tsunami of pleasure withdrew she fell back on the table, sweating and smiling. His tongue explored, opened, savored and pleasured her until she pushed him away. And, with a smile and a raised finger he stepped into the bathroom. The gentleness and patience of his fingers returned as he gently wiped the oil from her body and the juices from her thighs with a soft soapy wash cloth. "Happy Birthday" he said, as he asked her if she wanted him to fill the Jacuzzi. His smile told her she hadn't received all her presents just yet.
Submitted by:
Sensualloveer

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