He ran for the bus, although he knew he would still be late for the party he wasn't supposed to know anything about. He would act surprised, practiced in his mind, even though he had found out about it by accident. When he got off the bus and rounded the corner he was actually amazed to see only one car parked in front of his house. A sporty red convertible he didn't recognize. It was four thirty, so he was thirty minutes late already for the party he was supposed to know nothing about.
As he raced into the house, prepared to act surprised by the birthday party his wife was throwing for him, he found the house empty and quiet and dark. What he was also puzzled by, he didn't see his wife's car parked in front of the garage in the driveway as it usually would be.
He hurried through the house but didn't see anyone in the family room where he expected a crowd to be, still convinced his wife had had people park down the street so he wouldn't realize she was giving him a surprise party. If he didn't see the cars, maybe he wouldn't guess a party was in the works.
He had discovered the text message "about the party Saturday afternoon," although he remembered thinking the afternoon was a strange time for an evening party. The text had said 'four o'clock'. As he went through the house, seeing no one, he wondered where she had people hiding. We're they in the family room, the most obvious place? No, he looked there. As he searched the house and any room large enough to stage a party, he began feeing the sting of disappointment. He tried to fight that feeing off, as he didn't want to give his wife the impression that she had disappointed him.
It was an important birthday, that was one reason he kind of expected a party. A half century is a big accomplishment, and he tried not to expect one, but for such a big occasion that was hard not to do.
He started down the hall and as he passed the door to the den, which he had dismissed because it was too small of a room for a very large group of people, he thought out of the corner of his eye he saw a figure sitting on the sofa against the wall. He took a step back and glanced for a second time into the small, office-like chamber.
There on the sofa, under the window, sitting calmly, sat a woman with her knees crossed and both of her hands cupped over those knees. She was not only a woman, but she was a strikingly beautiful woman, one who would induce second and third looks from just about any man, any man who had a pulse.
With the prettiest face he could remember not in a movie star role she smiled and her eyes said she was pleased to see him. She motioned with her head. "Good afternoon, David," she said. "Happy Birthday. Come in. I am your party." He stood in the doorway unable to speak. "Your wife wants your fiftieth birthday to be one you won't soon forget. I am here to make sure you don't forget it, ever! Please, David, come in."
With that she casually began unbuttoning her blouse as she sat on the couch. He wanted to tell her to stop. His wife may be coming home soon. "She won't be back until we're finished," she said, anticipating his thoughts. "I am supposed to call her when you're done. And I plan to make you really done, well done," she said with a roguish smile.
When she had taken everything off but stockings, her shoes, and a revealing top, she came to him and put a scarf around his neck, pulling him along towards his bedroom by the scarf. "No one will interrupt us," she said. "We have all afternoon."
Entering the bedroom, he followed her bare bottom, and she helped him off with his jacket and began unbuttoning his shirt. Next came the belt, then his pants, underwear, then his shoes and socks. When he was completely nude, she pulled him with the scarf around his neck to the bed, all the time he kept looking at the door, sure his wife would burst in at any minute.
"She paid for me," she said anticipating his anxiety. "You have me all afternoon." Leaving the scarf around his neck, she stretched out on the bed below him and pull him down to her naked body with the muffler. "I am a professional," she said. "I guarantee you a good time."
She put her naked legs around him and pulled him to her, taking hold of his growing erection with her right hand and moving his penis to between her legs, positioning it at the crease between her thighs, moving the tip around to wet the end, then pushing with her hips and forcing him deep inside of her.
"Do you like your party?" she asked. Not able to speak, he nodded mindlessly. She pumped her hips, forcing him into her repeatedly. They fucked steadily for another forty minutes. "Do you like eating pussy?" she asked. He simply nodded once again, too aroused and bewildered to speak. When he came she milked him with expert movements of her pelvis and the muscles of her vagina, then said, "I have a cream pie for you for your birthday. Your wife tells me you love cream pie."
With that she pulled herself from under him and his cock plopped out with a sound like a plunger popping off a wet surface. She scooted up in the bed, opened her legs, and drew his head with both of her hands to her moist and sperm-covered pussy.
"Eat all you want," she said. "There are no calories in this brunch." With a hand on each side of his head, she pulled his face to her splayed slit and mashed his mouth against her soaking orifice.
Not being able to resist, he began licking and sucking her come-filled pussy. The tart flavor simply heightened his desire and he lost himself in his wonderfully flavored task, sliding his tongue across her sex and pushing it as deep into her as it would reach. He shook his head quickly back and forth to heighten her pleasure as he held her clitoris between his lips, vibrating her sensitive nub.
