The Birthday Present

The first I knew something was going on was when she put her hand in my lap.

Under the table.

In the restaurant.

"Can I show you the dessert menu?" asked the waiter as he cleared our plates.

"Oh, I think so," she said. He nodded, looking straight down at her hand. She just smiled at him.

"Now, Benjamin," she said as the waiter left, "how about dessert and then brandy in the bar?"

I had lost my tongue, to be honest. Then again, I suspected that the question was rhetorical anyway.

She looked into my eyes and moved her hand along my lap. She held my gaze, smiling, her eyes sparkling and excited. She moved the hand back towards her and then away from her, obviously checking for any signs of movement beneath the thin black material.

I twitched.

Or rather, my cock twitched.

Her eyes opened wider and her smile turned into a grin.

"Madam? Sir?" The waiter placed the dessert menus in front of us and retreated again.

She removed her hand and picked up her menu.

"Mmm, cheesecake, I think," she said, "with whipped cream." She made the last two words sound utterly filthy and adjusted her position in the chair alongside me.

I looked at my menu but the text was a blur. I held it further away and, slowly, my eyes settled down and I could read the four dishes. I put the menu back down, on top of hers. The waiter returned.

"What can I get you, Madam?

"Cheesecake with plenty of whipped cream." There it was again. Those two words, lengthened and contorted around her mouth to sound absolutely debauched.

"Sir?" The waiter looked at me just as her hand took up its former position.

"Chocolate," I said.

"The Chocolate Fondant, sir?" he asked. I nodded.

As he picked up the menus he looked directly at her hand, his gaze lingering for a second longer than was necessary. I glanced at her. She was smiling up at the waiter; a smile of satisfaction.

"Thank you," she said, as he left.

"Chocolate Fondant," she said, "isn't that the one that always goes wrong in the cooking shows?" she asked. Her hand began its movements again. I could feel her fingertips through my trousers as she applied some pressure.

I nodded.

"Y-es," I stumbled, "I don't know why they even try it."

"Perhaps it's because it seems impossible? There must be great satisfaction if you get it right," she said.

"I guess s..." I stopped completely as her fingers gripped my cock, pinching out the shape as if she was pinching a roll of pastry. A sausage roll, perhaps.

The waiter returned.

"Cheesecake for Madam; and the fondant for Sir. Please enjoy." He retreated once again. She removed her hand from my lap and picked up her dessert-fork and spoon.

I cut the fondant with the edge of my spoon; liquid chocolate oozed out of the chocolate sponge, thick, hot and steaming. It was a perfect fondant.

"Oh, well done," she said, looking at my dessert. I glanced up at her. She had a spoonful of whipped cream poised alongside her mouth. She saw me looking and licked her lips before opening her mouth and putting the spoon inside. When she withdrew the spoon she had whipped cream in the corner of her mouth. Both sides.

I looked back at my plate and cut a small piece of sponge with the spoon. I put it into my mouth and looked over at her. She was licking the sides of her mouth with an exaggerated motion; slowly and sensually. The cream disappeared but she kept her mouth slightly open so that I could see it on her tongue.

"Mmm," she said, "so good."

I concentrated on my own dessert, gulping down the delicious chocolate and savouring the delicate sponge. I scraped around the plate with my spoon, clearing every last bit of chocolate sauce I could. I put the spoon and fork down on the plate and sat back, satisfied.

"Well, someone enjoyed that, didn't they," she said. She finished her dessert with a final spoonful of cream, going through the same regime as before, and called the waiter.

"We'll take coffee and brandy in the bar," she said, pushing back her chair. She led the way from the restaurant to the bar and sat down on a leather sofa.

"Come and sit beside me, Benjamin," she said. I sat down next to her on the sofa as the waiter came over to the low table in front of us.

"Coffee for two and two large Martell XO's, please," she said, smiling at him. He nodded and went away. The bar was quiet; it wasn't yet nine o'clock; and we were in a shadowy corner. She shuffled slightly, so that her leather skirt rubbed on my trouser-leg. The skirt had ridden up when she sat and the hem was now halfway up her thigh.

She put her hand on top of my thigh, squeezing it gently.

"Well, that was a lovely meal, wasn't it?" she said. Her hand moved up my thigh to my groin. She began to rub again, caressing my cock through my trousers. The waiter reappeared with a large tray from which he deposited mats, sugar, cups and saucers, a coffee pot, a plate of chocolates and two brandy balloons. He looked up at her face and asked;

"Will that be all, Madam?" Then he saw her hand. It was stroking, slowly and steadily but there was no mistaking what it was doing. His training took over and, when she said, 'thank you,' he nodded and turned on his heel. I looked at her. She was smiling after him.

She poured the coffees and slid one in front of me before passing me a glass. I sniffed it and then sipped it, carefully. I'd only ever had cheap brandy before but this was thick and intense, with none of that harshness.

"Good?" she asked.

"Really good," I said. It warmed the back of my throat and then all the way down. I put down the glass and sat back in the sofa. She picked up her coffee cup, took a sip, and put it back down. Then she sipped her cognac and lifted her head, as if she was savouring the taste of the spirit mixed with the coffee in the back of her mouth. She turned slightly and replaced her hand in my lap. She massaged me openly, staring at my face.

My cock twitched in her hand.

"Mmm, you like that," she said. It wasn't a question but quite obviously a statement of fact. I let my head fall onto the back of the sofa and closed my eyes while she continued to massage my cock. I felt her hot breath in my ear as she leaned in;

"I'll bet you'd like me to take it out, wouldn't you?" I sat up, quickly.

"No," I said, looking around the bar. There was no one in eyesight of us but I was terrified of being seen. She smiled, saying,

"Sorry, darling, I didn't mean to tease you. That's not fair, is it?"

It seemed that a spell had been broken. She removed her hand and passed me my coffee cup. I took a gulp, then another. I picked up the cognac and took a big sip of that too, swallowing it too quickly and coughing, loudly.

"Okay?" she asked as the cough subsided. I nodded,

"Sorry," I said, embarrassed.

"Don't apologise, darling; my fault entirely," she replied. We drank our coffee in silence and then finished our cognac. She made the air-cheque sign to the waiter and then signed the bill when he brought it over.

"Shall we?" she asked me. I stood up, taking her outstretched hand and helping her up from the sofa. She put her hand through my arm as we walked to the lift. I waved my room-card at the sensor and pressed the button marked '7.'

"Have you had a good day?" she asked, leaning against me.

"Lovely, thank you," I replied.

"I'm so glad," she said as the lift came to a stop. The doors opened and we turned left down the coridoor, stopping outside the door marked '727'; my room.

I turned to her and leaned against the door. She kissed me on both cheeks and then held my face. I kissed her on the lips, just a quick kiss, and she smiled.

"I'm just next door if you need anything," she said. I smiled and nodded, turning to open my door.

"Goodnight, Ben," she whispered as I stepped into the room. I turned and smiled at her.

"G'night." I closed the door behind me and turned the lights on. I pulled at my tie and undid it, throwing it on the chair. I popped the top button of my shirt and kicked off my shoes, still laced up, using my heels and toes, just like I used to after school.

I sat on the edge of the bed. On the table beside me was the programme from this afternoon's performance of Les Miserables with a light-blue coaster from the champagne bar at Fortnum and Mason, where we'd been after the show. Beside them, standing up was a 21st birthday card.

I stripped out of my clothes, went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. The hot water seemed to invigorate me and I began thinking about this evening, and her wandering hands.

I'd been so shocked but, fuck, it was hot.

As I soaped myself I began to get hard again. I let the water wash over me and lay back against the wall of the shower just to enjoy the sensation.

After a while I turned the shower off and dried myself, wrapping one of the huge bath towels around my waist out of habit. I brushed my teeth and walked back into the bedroom.

She was sitting in the chair.

She looked just as I'd left her; red blouse, black leather skirt and black heels; but there was something different. The skirt was riding high on her crossed thigh, almost too high; the blouse had been unbuttoned to reveal a red lace bra. She was smiling at me and looking me up and down. I stood stock-still, as if frozen to the spot.

"Connecting doors are such useful things," she said, "especially when you have the key."

She uncrossed her legs as if to stand up but she waited just long enough to make sure that I caught a flash of red knickers.

She walked towards me, smoothing her skirt.

"Now," she whispered, "let me give you your birthday present."

She undid the towel and let it fall to the ground. I was semi-hard. She looked down and reached out her hand, holding my cock in it. I could feel it getting hard; quickly.

"Mmm," she whispered, "so you are pleased I'm here." She looked intensely into my eyes as she held me in her palm, her thumb on top, rubbing gently.

I nodded. She smiled, whispering;

"Good."

She closed her eyes and leaned for a kiss, her lips open, the tip of her tongue visible. I leaned towards her and our lips met. She put her free hand on the back of my neck and pulled me in, her tongue searching for mine, our lips pressing together and the kiss immediately becoming more intense. I didn't have that much experience but, fuck, she was the best kisser I'd met. I was overwhelmed at how turned on I was becoming, just from the kiss, my mouth generating saliva with excitement and anticipation.

She broke the kiss, her eyes aflame with passion.

"Undress me," she demanded, gently. I knew enough to know that she would want the disrobing to be slow and sensual, rather than the frenzied hurricane of clothing I was more used to.

I stepped back a little and undid the first button on her flame-red blouse. It revealed a little more of the beautiful bra underneath, its deep red colour showing off her tanned skin perfectly.

The next button revealed more of her stomach. I slipped my hands inside just below her bra, touching her skin and moving them around to the side, stroking her softly. She closed her eyes and shuddered slightly, so I assumed I was doing it right.

The last button was just above the top of her leather skirt. When I undid it I gently pulled at the material, easing it out of her waistband on both sides and at the back. I moved my hands back inside the blouse, caressing her skin and then stroking her back. I leaned in to kiss her again and this time it was more passionate, less frenzied, more sensual. She moved so that she could whisper in my ear;

"You're doing well, darling," she said, breathing hot breath in to my ear. I eased the blouse off her shoulders, undid the buttons on the cuffs and then slid it down her arms.

"Just drop it on the floor," she whispered, licking my ear and my neck.

I leaned down, dropped the blouse and kissed her shoulder, running my tongue up her neck and behind her silver earring. I reached around her back and found the clasp for her bra which I unhooked. I put my hands on her shoulders, hooking the straps between my fingers and sliding them slowly off. When her shoulders were no longer supporting the straps I held them up, kissing one shoulder, then the other, licking the marks where the straps had been.

She moaned in my ear, her hot breath so sensual; no words, just a deep sigh of pleasure.

I leaned back and let the strap drop out of one hand. Her breasts were beautiful; full and round; not pert and high but not drooping either, her muscles toned and strong enough to still support them. The areola was big and deep brown; the nipples were large and erect.

They were the most gorgeous tits I'd ever seen.

I dropped the bra and leant down to kiss her right breast, letting my tongue deposit saliva onto the areola and then licking the nipple, nipping it gently between my lips. I did the same on the left breast, squeezing and kneading the right one as I did. She threw back her head;

"That's perfect, yes; right there," she said. I sucked and licked her tits for what seemed like ages; I don't remember an experience like it. They had a taste, they were delicious and I couldn't get enough of them. She ran her fingers through my hair, occasionally bending to kiss the back of my head; purring and moaning with pleasurable encouragement.

Eventually I reached behind her and found the button on the waistband of her skirt, popping it carefully. Below it was a short zip which I slid down. I stood up straight and she wrapped her arms around my neck, locking her lips onto mine, her tongue urgent, once again, her kiss intense.

I eased my hands inside her skirt, at her sides, and slowly edged it down her hips, encouraging it over her bum. It dropped to the floor and I moved back a little, allowing her to step out of it and kick it behind her. Her red knickers were so sexy, not quite boy shorts but lacy and delicate, and I ran my hands over them, caressing her arse gently.

"D'you like them?" she asked. I nodded.

"I bought them especially for you," she whispered, giving me the first indication that this had been planned.

"Why don't we leave them on for now," I suggested. I had a fixation with gorgeous lingerie; still do, to be honest.

"If that's what you'd like," she replied, holding my face in her hands and kissing me again.

"What about my heels?" she asked; "shall we leave those on too?"

"Yes, please," I whispered. She leaned into my ear again, her breath now quicker than before.

"Mmm," she whispered, "you naughty boy."

This time her kiss was hard, sexy, even filthy. Her mouth was open wide, saliva dripping down her chin and filling my mouth too. Her hand wrapped around my cock and began to stroke it more forcefully than before until I felt like it would burst out of it's skin.

I think it was the hardest I have ever been.

She broke the kiss and pulled the back of my head forward so that our foreheads touched. Her voice was now a breathless growl;

"I want this in my mouth, now."

She pushed me back onto the bed where I lay sprawled in a star-shape, as if I'd fallen into the snow when I was a kid. She climbed onto the bed and kneeled astride my legs. I lifted my head and looked down the bed at her; eyes aflame, tits wobbling, those red knickers now a darker colour between her legs, and her black heels sticking out either side of me.

Fuck, she looked hot.

She leaned forward, taking her weight on her elbows, alongside my hips, and held my cock at the base. She licked the tip, swilling saliva out of her mouth, down her tongue and onto my shaft where it dribbled down towards her hand. Then she put her mouth over the head, gripping it with her lips and using her tongue to tease the tip inside her mouth. She tipped her head up and locked her eyes onto mine before plunging her mouth down the shaft until the tip of my cock rubbed on the back of her throat. Suddenly, a flood of saliva poured down the shaft as she drew her neck back, dragging her lips and gums back up the shaft, all the way to the top. She moved her hand from the bottom to about halfway and began to suck up and down, gripping the shaft with different fingers to change the pressure points. I let out a groan of ecstasy.

Fuck, she was good at this.

She sucked and licked me greedily, making a noise in the back of her throat that sounded savage, guttural almost. She was obviously in her element.

My groans of pleasure became more frequent and she stopped, suddenly. She knelt up, looking down at me, and her voice tender;

"We don't want you cumming yet, do we? I think you need to show me how good you are at cunnilingus."

She climbed off the bed to allow me to stand up. Then she lay down, pulling a pillow from behind her and putting it under her neck. I climbed back onto the bed and lay on my front, between her legs, with the lower half of my own legs hanging off the end of the mattress. I thought of one girlfriend at college who had been meticulous in teaching me how to satisfy her with my tongue. The relationship ended because of an incompatibility of interests; the sex had been spectacular.

I breathed hard onto the wet patch between her legs, blowing gently as I licked her inner thighs. I raised my right hand and stroked the top of her thigh, moving my hand closer to her knickers. My hand rested on top of her mound and I lowered my thumb, sliding it down the damp material until it located her clit. She twitched at the contact. I began to massage her clit with my thumb, my tongue edging closer to the edge of her knickers and teasing her by occasionally letting it lick the wet lace, pushing it back into her slit.

Slowly, I moved my thumb under the seam of the red knickers, easing it back on top of her clit. She moaned, pushing her hips against my thumb and saying,

"Lick me, Benny, lick me."

I knelt up and grabbed the sides of her knickers. She lifted her hips and let me pull the red lace material down her thighs, over her knees and on down to her feet. I held them up and, feeling suddenly emboldened, leaned forward and held them to her face, wiping them under her nose and across her lips. I tossed them aside as she lifted her head,

"Naughty boy," she grinned, pointing between her legs, "now lick me."

I settled down and pushed my face in between her flaps, my nose landing on her clitoris and my tongue lapping at the juices flowing quite freely inside. God, she tasted good.

She began to grind her hips into my face, moving her clit against my nose and forcing my tongue deeper inside her. Within just a few seconds her hips bucked and

she gripped the back of my head with her hand, stopping me from moving as her moans turned into a scream;

"Oh, fuck, yes, yes!" she yelled, "fucking there, now, NOW!"

My face was flooded with juice; it poured into my open mouth and up my nose but I knew enough not to break the contact until instructed. She continued to press my face into her, bucking and twisting her hips as the orgasm roared through her body until, suddenly, she let go of my head and I pulled back, gulping down air, my face soaking wet with her cum.

She reached out her arms and I crawled up the bed to her. She lifted her head, pulled me in and began to lick my face, all over. I closed my eyes and she even licked my eyelids. Then she was kissing me, deep and long, holding my face in her hands;

"I haven't cum like that for years," she said, sitting up. She reached out for my cock and began to stroke it.

"I need to be fucked by this gorgeous cock," she declared.

I was rock hard again.

She wrapped her lips around my shaft, dribbling saliva out of the corners of her mouth. When she was satisfied that it was lubricated enough she climbed over me, holding the base, and guided it up into her slit. She slid down on it, grunting. She leaned forward, putting her arms either side of me, the shaft sliding out of her until just the tip was left in. I lifted my hips, forcing my cock back into her, and began to fuck her.