The Birthday Surprise

The Birthday Surprise

Catherine awoke naked and alone in her bed, her body aching beautifully after the passion of the previous night and her husband's side of the bed still warm from his recent departure. She stretched and purred and kicked away the bedclothes so that only her feet remained covered, lying on her stomach so that the cool September breeze from the open window danced upon her back.

Today was her birthday and she'd booked a day off work so that she might be free to do whatever she chose, or indeed, do nothing at all if she chose. Daniel, her husband, had to work, but it was Friday morning and Catherine was compensated for this disappointment by the possibilities that a free weekend together might offer. Her husband loved to surprise her on such occasions, to make her feel special and she recalled how on this day a year ago he had presented her with two reservations at the exclusive Seaham lodge health spa. Her best friend Jennifer had been part of the plot and had accompanied her on her adventure, but Daniel had gone further than either had expected, booking them onto programs that Catherine would have otherwise shied away from. Indeed the sensual massage she'd received was something she still recalled and used to help her climax during sex. But this year, Daniel had been uncharacteristically careless, leaving clues that Catherine had followed to uncover the nature of her present. Whilst some might say that her curiosity detracted from the gift and even disrespected the efforts her husband had gone to. Daniel, she was sure, knew her well enough to know that even the smallest slip on his part would prove irresistible to her.

She turned in bed, sat up and pulled Daniels pillow behind her to support her back, her firm breasts responding immediately to the chill caresses of the fresh morning air. A pot of steaming tea sat cooling upon her bedside table and the scent of her breakfast being prepared percolated upwards from the kitchen directly below. Compliantly she remained in bed and sipped at her tea and goose bumps appeared on her flesh.

The radio alarm clicked on at 7am and at that moment Daniel entered carrying a tray. For a moment he stood transfixed by the naked vison and made no attempt to disguise his desire, nor indeed to cover her. He had already showered and dressed, but his hair was lank and curled and shimmered with the memory of the refreshing cascade. He kissed her and placed the tray on her lap and Catherine smiled appreciatively. It wasn't as though this was a rare occurrence; Daniel loved to bring his wife breakfast in bed and on those occasions breakfast unfailingly concluded with enduring and passionate sex - but not today. Catherine slowly consumed her perfectly cooked mushroom omelette and waited for her husband to present her with his gift, whilst Daniel let his hands languidly wander over her thighs. He pulled away the sheets entirely so that her feet were offered to his lips and he stooped to kiss and suckle upon her toes while she also feasted.

Daniel put aside the empty tray and pressed his lips to Catherine's, kissing her deeply and lingering until they were both breathless. "I have to go my love." He said at last, reaching under the bed to produce a flat box and an enveloped card. "Happy birthday." He smiled. "Don't wait too long before opening them." He jumped up to continue dressing and when he kissed her a final time and left the room, Catherine was consumed by an overwhelming sense of loss. But she suffered his absence without complaint and remained in bed, listening to his footsteps as he moved around downstairs. A door opened and closed and a car engine fired into life and slowly faded, leaving her abandoned in the ensuing silence. Catherine was unbearably aroused and desperate for sex, desperate to feel her husband on her, in her, but she knew that he had a crucial meeting at 8:30 and the denial she endured was almost as good as sex would have been -- almost.

Catherine considered whether to first open the box or the card and though she was desperate to read and listen to his loving words, albeit knowing the gift within, she chose to keep this treat for last and opened the box. As she expected from noting its size and shape, the box contained an item of clothing. But rather than expensive lingerie as she had perhaps expected she held up a deep alizarin dress of impossibly soft cotton. She let its hem tumble from the edge of the bed so that it brushed the floor, telling her that it would likely cover her petite frame entirely.

Catherine slipped gracefully from her bed and carefully laid her gift over the back of the dressing table chair, placing the unopened card on the walnut table top and stealing a glance at her reflection in the antique mirror. She loved being naked, and would often go unclothed all morning at weekends so that Daniel could follow as she went about her self-assigned chores. Though in truth, the risk that a passing stranger might catch a fleeting glimpse of her through the window as she worked was more than a little exciting. Catherine pulled the sex soiled sheets from the bed and took them downstairs, forcing the bed linen into the washer and turning it on before dancing back to her room on her toes, still unclothed. She found it both flattering and arousing that after 10 years of marriage and a total of 15 together, her husband still found her fresh and exciting. At the age of 38, Catherine was older if not wiser than the day they had met and was perhaps even more sexually demanding than in her youth, and to her delight, her husband praised and worshiped her daily.

She showered, taking time to wash and dry her hair; after all, this was her special day. Catherine slipped into her new dress, and purred contently as the fabric breathed with her and caressed her legs, seemingly contracting about her. She let her hands wander and despite the garment's almost total coverage, she felt naked and aroused and knew that it would be something that could only be worn with nothing beneath and she was thrilled by the notion. As predicted the hem tickled the tops of her toes as she stood admiring the deep cut cleavage that perfectly offered her breasts up for inspection. She picked up the envelope and carefully removed the card, but as she opened it, something slipped out and fluttered to the floor. Catherine recovered the fallen items, two train tickets, and she gave each a cursory glance noting that one was the return journey of the other, before returning to read her husband's loving sentiments in the birthday card.

"My love," he began. "Though it hurts me to be parted from you, I shall endure my solitude until your return on Sunday evening. You have, no doubt already found the tickets, but you must hurry as a taxi will arrive at 9:45 to take you to the station. I have arranged that you will be met by a friend and colleague from the university at your destination. I have packed an overnight bag for you that you will find by the front door and you will need nothing else. Enjoy your weekend my love and I will see you on Sunday evening."

Catherine was overwhelmed and a fleeting look at the bedside alarm clock told her that she had less than an hour before her cab arrived.

"P.s." the note concluded, "I assume that you are by now wearing my gift to you. Go dressed as you are." And Catherine laughed out loud. How well he knew her. She skipped downstairs and resisted the urge to open the weekend bag -- that much at least would be a surprise.

Daniel may have surprised her completely had he been a little more careful and Catherine grinned at her cunning in uncovering his plot. She'd found the main clue almost three weeks ago, a name, telephone number and date on the pad by the telephone, barely visible and yet not quite completely hidden; an impression from the missing page above, almost unnoticed on the page beneath. She trusted her husband implicitly and the thought that he might be conducting an affair never entered her mind. Instead, when she read 'Alice, ext 57692' and todays date, her date of birth, she was in no doubt that this related to his surprise birthday gift to her. Of course, she had had to investigate and try to beat him at this game and when she returned from her adventure she would take great delight in telling him how easily she had uncovered his scheme.

On finding the secret note, Catherine had telephoned the university at which her husband taught, asking for the extension she had found.

The phone buzzed a couple of times. "Good morning, Alice Simpson." A woman said cheerfully.

"Oh Hi." Catherine replied. "I think I have the wrong number. I was trying to call the Chemistry department."

"Ah. This is Art." Alice told her. "Would you like me to transfer you?"

"Thanks, but that's Ok. I'll dial again." Catherine answered quickly, so as not to raise suspicion. "Thanks for your help." She added as she hung up to end any further discussion. Catherine immediately reached for her IPad and typed 'Alice Simpson, York University.' She'd hit send and at once the device threw back Dr Robert's biography.

'Alice Simpson,' Catherine read, 'is a doctor of fine art and renowned figurative artist living and teaching in the north of England...' There were samples of her work that took Catherine's breath away and just as she was about to close down the page she saw a link to 'up and coming events' Catherine almost didn't follow it, but she was curious and impulsive by nature and couldn't resist. She tapped the screen and a list of exhibitions and workshops appeared, one, she noted excitedly, a life drawing class for experienced artists, beginning on her birthday.

Catherine smiled at the memory of her cunning and checked the destination of her train ticket, finding to her delight that it matched the location of the workshop that Dr Robert's was holding this weekend. Catherine almost jumped for joy; she loved art of all kinds and was a gifted painter, though she had little time for hobbies these days. How wonderful of Daniel to feed one of her greatest passions. A car pulled up outside and a horn sounded and Catherine dropped her phone onto the dining table and grabbed her bag as she skipped out like a child.

The taxi ride was brief, no more than 20 minute, and Catherine noted that the driver spent as much time staring at her breasts in the rear view mirror as he did looking at the road ahead. Catherine was rapidly approaching forty and she was flattered that younger men found her attractive; but as much as she loved men and women admiring her, it was her husband that enjoyed a greater thrill in showing her off and feeling the envy and jealousy of others. She exited the cab and felt the driver's eyes follow her to the entrance of the station and the car sat idling until she was inside, but Catherine didn't look back.

Her heart was racing and her whole body was trembling beautifully with excitement. It was as though she had been released into the world this morning to be whoever she wanted to be. There was a life in her gait as she danced purposefully towards the turnstyle.

An elderly ticket collector stood by the gate, the station not yet sufficiently modernised to replace him with an automated access. The man smiled and punched her ticket and replacing the punch to his pouch noticed that she wore no shoes. "Did you leave in a hurry?" He asked, looking down so that she could follow his eyes to her bare feet.

"Its one of my fetishes." Catherine said merrily, though in truth, while it did excite her, bare feet were one of her husband's major turn-ons.

"Ah," he replied casually. "Mine is breasts. I keep a journal of women's breasts that travel on my trains, scoring them out of 10."

Catherine laughed musically at his candour and dropped her bag to the ground, taking his hands in hers and stepping forward to guide his palms to her breasts. Rather than pull away as she had perhaps expected, the man didn't flinch and indeed, gently massaged her through her dress.

"Very nice; beautifully proportioned and firm." He complimented her. But his enjoyment was curtailed by a whistle blast and he sighed and let his hands fall away. "Your train leaves from platform 2." He offered and Catherine recovered her bag and hurried away. "Over the bridge." He continued.

"Thank you." Catherine replied over her shoulder. "And if you score me less than 8 I'll pee on your platform."

It was the man's turn to laugh. "You're my first perfect 10." He replied earnestly.

The train was almost empty and she found a seat at an unoccupied table near the buffet car. If she had packed her own bags she'd have brought a book for the journey, but her husband had instructed that she take only what he had provided. "Perhaps..." Catherine plopped the red leather bag onto her knees and unzipped it. She roared with laughter on examining the contents: A thick white bath sheet to fill out the case, her favourite vibrator and a bottle of lubricating oil. She closed the bag and placed it on the chair at her side.

The train began to move and a young man made unsteady progress towards her table, having boarded just as the doors were closing. He was perhaps 19 or 20, built and dressed like a scarecrow and with a face full of erupting pimples. He was not her type at all and he flopped into the seat opposite, having first asked her permission and almost at once pulled out a thick tomb to bury his eyes in. Catherine relaxed and closed her eyes and let her mind and imagination wander, finding herself in her art studio, or at least in the art studio she would choose for herself had she the means to afford one. It was large and spacious and examples of her work lay propped against three of the four walls. "Come in" She said absently as her model entered. "Leave your clothes on the chair and join me in the centre." The model that arrived was the young man opposite her on the train, but as he tentatively undressed his weak, limbs grew muscle and sinew and the man evolved into her husband, becoming strong and confident. The model was wearing thick jeans and almost in cliché Catherine was naked beneath her paint stained denim dungarees.

"Problem?" She asked. "nervous?"

"Not at all." Her husband replied. "But like enjoying a gourmet meal, one should never enjoy art alone."

Catherine grimaced and looked at the half finished painting on her easel, knowing that it would be one of her finest pieces, but only with her model's cooperation. She unbuttoned the shoulder straps and at once the garment fell away from her breasts.

Her husband smiled and cocked his head in expectation and Catherine eased the denims over her hips and threw them aside, standing naked before her model. Her husband nodded his approval and removed his jeans, standing naked and erect so that he might be moulded into the pose she required. In her dream Catherine stirred. She was alone in her studio, paint covering the walls and floor and. She pulled herself to her feet; her body smeared in colours of every hue and she stared at her painting. Two writhing bodies in the height of passion, naked and hungry and she at once decided that it would hang above her bed at home.

The train shuddered and trundled to a halt and Catherine peered out of the window through half opened eyes. It was her stop! She jumped up and ran to the door, leaping onto the platform and looking up and down for the person sent to meet her. But the few alighting passengers quickly dispersed leaving her alone and Catherine dejectedly made her way to the exit. The station seemed to be in the middle of nowhere and as the remaining cars left one by one, Catherine sat on the wooden steps and wondered where on earth she might be.

"Catherine?" A woman's voice asked. And Catherine spun her head around. This was not the artist that she'd expected and instead of paint stained overalls, the tall elegant woman wore an olive green business suit. "I'd intended to catch you on the train as we were travelling together, but I saw you sleeping and chose not to disturb you. I'm Alice Simpson. Do you know why you're here?"

"I'm enrolled on your life drawing class." Catherine replied awkwardly, though she now recognised the tutor from the university's 'about our faculty' webpage.

"Yes." She smiled offering her hand to help Catherine up. "I've been at a finance meeting with management. I don't usually appear so formal." She noted Catherine's bare feet and in response took off her own shoes. "It's a short walk." She offered, picking up Catherine's bag without asking. "Daniel's told me so much about you." She continued and has even shown me some of your work; you're very talented."

Catherine felt the need to compliment her too, but instead managed a feeble 'thank you.'

As they walked Alice took her hand. "I run these workshops throughout the summer and they are generally quickly filled. Daniel begged me to hold this place open for you and of course having seen your photograph and your work I couldn't refuse him. The group consists of a number of my 2^nd and 3^rd year students, many of whom I believe to have a great future ahead of them."

They turned from the station road onto a dirt track and travelled a few hundred yards to a large stone cottage surrounded by trees. "This is my home." Alice said simply, "and my workspace when I'm not at the university. I'm afraid we're the last to arrive and we have to start the first workshop almost immediately. I have a room for you of course, but most of my students are staying in the village close by. We can leave your bag in the porch and I'll take you straight round to the studio to meet the others. Catherine didn't object as Alice dropped her bag inside what appeared to be a large conservatory rather than a porch and led around to the back of the house and towards a large barn set amongst a series of smaller outbuildings.

Inside it was open and spacious, the walls painted white and the north facing section of roof replaced with a huge window that allowed the light to flood in. The wooden boards creaked as they crossed the barn towards a group of perhaps 16 young men and women, most casually dressed, but two, a muscular young man and rather curvaceous woman, conspicuous in that they were completely naked and seemingly perfectly comfortable with this. The gathering was excited by their tutor's appearance and the hub-bub increased in volume at her arrival. "Welcome everyone." Alice called to them. "I'm sorry for the delayed start, but you'll be glad to hear that my funding for the next five years at the university has been granted and indeed increased and so I'll not be competing with you for space in the major galleries once you graduate."

There was a rippling of laughter.

"As you know this weekend will focus on life drawing and as you can see our model's Marcus and Jennifer are already suitably attired." She took Catherine's hand and turned to her smiling warmly. "This is Catherine who will also be joining us for the next couple of days. Those of you who are familiar with the university's Chemistry department may know her husband, Dr Brychan, head of that facility.

Catherine felt a little uncomfortable at being singled out as the wife of one of the lecturers, but she smiled back at the gathered assembly before turning to Alice. But before she could speak Dr Simpson continued. "If you would each take your place by your easel, and check your equipment, we'll begin with a few short neoclassical poses before deciding on a theme for the first of your major pieces." Her eyes locked onto Catherine's for a moment before moving down to her toes peeking from beneath her dress and moving slowly back up to Catherine's blushing cheeks. "Catherine, please undress and take your place with Marcus and Jennifer." Alice grinned, clearly she had been in collusion with Daniel all along.