For the past week, Aaron and two of his colleagues had been working on an audit in downtown Pittsburgh. The days were long and frustrating. Aaron left home around five AM, and rarely got home before ten thirty at night. Needless to say, the stress and long hours were putting a huge damper on our playtime. And worst of all, the magic my ten little lovers had so aptly delivered during my teen-age years, just wasn't doing it for me. So with the weekend only a few days away, I began to make plans for my desperately-needed relief, and forty-eight hours that Aaron would not soon forget . . .
To set things in motion, I placed a note reading: for the fuck of your life, call (my cell phone number) in a sealed envelope, with: Aaron, for your eyes only, written on the outside, and slipped it into his briefcase. Around ten o'clock, he called.
"Hello?" I answered.
"Yes. My name is Aaron Samuels." he said, "I was wondering if you would be available to cater a party this weekend?"
"Is that what you call it now a days."
"Yes." he said, in a very business-like tone.
"I'm surprised, you didn't ask my price for, catering."
"Money's no object."
"Who said I wanted money?"
"It's a surprise party for my wife."
"I take it you've got somebody standing close by that you don't want to know that your actually making arrangements to meet with a high-priced call girl?"
"That's right."
"So tell me about this party your planning."
"There will be just the two of us."
"Hmm. Sounds interesting."
"Yes. That sounds perfect. The address is 10 Walnut Road. Be there around five tomorrow evening."
"Better idea. Meet me in the main lobby at Seven Springs at eight tomorrow morning. Since you'll need your rest, I've made reservations for you to spend the night. Alone. See you in the morning."
"See you then."
* * * * * * *
The next morning, I had my friend Jannelle pick me up at home around a quarter of seven, and drive me over to the lodge. We arrived just before seven thirty.
"How do I look?" I asked.
"Let's see. It's seven thirty. In the morning. You're wearing black high heels; white stockings; a navy, kick-ass slit-skirt cut three inches above your knee; white camisole; navy jacket. Your makeup's perfect and so's your hair. You're wearing your best jewelry. How do you look? Like fifteen hundred an hour might be your going rate." Jannelle laughed.
"Just the look I was after."
"I wish I had the guts to do what you're doing." Janelle said as I got out of the car, "Bill would just love it."
"Let's just hope Aaron does. Wish me luck?"
"I doubt you'll need it."
The lobby of Seven Springs Mountain Resort was quiet as a tomb. But what did I expect? After all, it was only the second week of October, not the height of ski season. I checked my watch, and did the quick math: twenty minutes to wait. I sat down in the corner of the lobby opposite the door leading out to the hotel. Without thinking, I crossed my right leg over my left, allowing my skirt to fall open. All I can say, is that the view must have been better than I imagined, for just then one of the cooks, or busboys maybe came out a side door and proceeded to walk straight into one of the log posts. It was all I could do to keep from laughing out loud. I guess it pays to dress!
Anyway, at precisely eight o'clock, Aaron came into the lobby. His eyes just about popped out of his head when he saw me. Slowly, I got up from my chair and walked over to him. I offered a handshake. With a puzzled look, Aaron shook hands.
"Good morning mister Samuels. Did you sleep well?" I said.
"Not bad. But I would have slept a lot better had you been in bed beside me."
"I'm sorry mister Samuels," I whispered, "but had I spent the night with you; sleep, is the last thing we would have done. Now. If you will please follow me to the dining room, we can discuss the services I will provide."
Although they had been serving breakfast since seven thirty, we all but had the dining room to ourselves. In one corner, there was a group of six mountain-bikers, loading up for the days ride. Three tables away, a young couple who were too busy kissing to hear the harsh criticisms of the fifty-something couple seated behind them.
"A table by the windows." I told our waitress; a teenage cock-tease named Tammi, who's blouse barely contained her DD chest.
"Do you need a minute to look at the menu?" she yawned.
"No." I said, "Bring us each one of your Belgium waffle specials."
"Anything to drink?"
"Coffee." Aaron replied.
"Orange juice." I said.
Tammi turned and walked back to the kitchen. Aaron followed her tight butt with his eyes. While my dear husband was distracted, I slipped off my right shoe and carefully placed my stocking-clad foot between his legs. Aaron's attention immediately turned to the increasing pressure I was exerting against his fabulous cock.
"Don't say a word, and do exactly what I tell you." I whispered, "Move closer to the table, and keep your hands in plain site."
Aaron pulled his chair closer, then folded his hands and placed them on the table. Gently, I began to massage his growing hard-on with the ball of my foot. Our eyes focused on one another. Calmly, I caressed his thickening shaft with my toes until Tammi returned with our breakfasts. She set the tray on the table next to us and then served us. Without saying a word, she turned and started back toward the kitchen. She stopped, turned, and gave me a knowing wink. I nodded, and smiled. Aaron was too wrapped up in the heat building between his legs to notice.
"Here's the deal." I said, "After breakfast, we're going out to your car. I'm going to blindfold you, and tie your hands behind your back for good measure. Then, I'm going to take you to a seclude little cabin, tie you to the bed, and have my way with you. Any objections?"
"None."
The cabin I had chosen was in Linn Run State Park, about eight mile from our home. It was tiny and rustic; with a small kitchen/ living room, bedroom and bath. And best of all, although there were several other cabins in the immediate are, the others were all vacant.
When we arrived, I helped Aaron from the car and into the cabin. Once inside, I lead him into the bedroom and untied his hands.
"I want you to strip." I said, "But leave the blindfold on."