Birthday in the MansionbyYoursSINSerely©
I haven't written to you in so long and I wanted to catch you up on what Tom and I have been doing. Oh, my God! He is still the love of my life.
Remember how we always go away for his birthday? Well, this year wasn't any different. I don't know if I ever told you how he has a goal to spend each and every August 12th somewhere different, and some place exciting.
Apparently, the mortgage company he works for isn't doing very well. He doesn't like to talk about his job and he has never told me how much he makes. Tom told me in the strictest confidence, and I'm only telling you now because you are my closest and dearest friend on the face of this earth, that his bonus this year was nowhere near what he is accustom to receiving. He had decided his birthday getaway was going to have to be very creative if it was going to be any fun at all for the two of us.
He'd been complaining to his boss how there wasn't a lot of extra money for the two of us to go on our getaway. Well! George came through for us again this year. What a special guy he is to work for.
I think I've told you before how George and his wife Mary own property up in Maine and how they usually spend the entire month of August up there. I think they go up there and pick blueberries in the woods or something like that. Sometimes, she pretends she's an artist and sits on a dock in Bar Harbor and paints pictures of the silly tourists in their moose t-shirts. Those two are quite easily amused.
I haven't got the heart to tell her that her paintings suck and Tom tells me I can never tell her because he wants to keep his job. I even took her to an art gallery in New York City this Spring so that she might see what real artists create. She doesn't get it. Maybe next Spring I'll plan to take a trip to the Crayola factory with her so she can compare the two forms of artistry. Perhaps, you'd like to join us. Oh, Sue, it would be great fun getting together. Think about it. Won't you?
Some time in July, Tom finally worked up enough nerve to tell me we wouldn't be celebrating his birthday this year. I was heartbroken. I don't tell everyone, but since you are my best friend, I was so disappointed that I wasn't going to be able to give him his birthday blowjob. He always takes a picture of the street sign where we are staying and puts it into a photo album. It's our kinky little way of remembering where he had his best blowjob. If we are staying uptown, I always try to concentrate more on the tip of his cock. If our destination is downtown, well, let's just say, it goes down deeper. I don't think you need all the details. I know you have a great imagination. What you can't imagine is how wonderful his dick feels on my tongue. God, I love this guy!
Well, to make a long story a little shorter, George and Mary said we could use their house in Rumson while they were off picking up pinecones on some scenic highway in Maine. Mary said we could even have the use of the servants, but reminded us they only work on the weekends during the summer. Tom was so excited to think that he was finally going to get his birthday blowjob. I was even more thrilled to think about getting fucked in the boss's bed. My nipples get hard just thinking again about how luxurious those sheets were. Egyptian cotton, 800 thread count. Oh my God Sue, silk doesn't even feel as good as those sheets felt.
We arrived at the house on the 11th. Sue, this wasn't a house, it was a freakin mansion. It's right there on the main drag in Rumson. Tom got out of the car and took the picture of the street sign, Route 547. When he got back into the car, he raised one of his eyebrows and twitched his head a little, the way he always does when he wants to lure me into the bedroom. I'm sure he was thinking he was going to get 547 blowjobs for this birthday getaway. I looked up at the sign from my side of the car and only saw the blue background thinking that would be the color of my lips by the end of this trip. But, I don't mind. I really, really love this guy!
We took the Bimmer that week. You remember that car. It's the light blue convertible you and I took up to Saratoga last year. Remember? We had the top down and we were flashing our boobs to all the truck drivers on the thruway. Damn, that was a fun trip. I don't think I ever laughed so much. Well, when we pulled the Bimmer up to the front door, the gardener came from around one of the bushes he had been trimming. Scared the crap out of us, but offered to park the car out of the sun and into the garage. The garage was off to the side of the house. It was a whole separate building with 5 bays in it. Amazing how much money these mortgage guys make.
George had left a key under the front mat for us and Tom and I went threw the front door, schlepping all of our suitcases and sunhats. When the front door opened, it took my breath away. Absolutely gorgeous foyer! There was a grand staircase smack dab in the middle of this giant entryway. Deep red carpet all the way up. Giant oil paintings lined the wall. Unfortunately, they were hideous paintings done by Mary. One was a pine tree and I can't even remember what all the others were. I think one was of a muskrat, or maybe it was a moose. God, she is a terrible artist. I will admit the gold leaf on the frames made the pictures look so much better than they actually were. There was a huge chandelier in the center of the room, just dripping with crystals and pearls. Something has to distract your eyes away from those ugly paintings.
Oh, Sue, I gotta run. I think that is the UPS man at the door delivering Tom's belated birthday present. I'm not even dressed, yet. I'm sitting here writing to you and I'm still in my bathrobe. I'm so far behind with everything today. I just got out of the shower, my hair is dripping wet. I hope I'm not the first wet woman he has seen this morning. I wouldn't want to be turning on the UPS man, now would I?
When I get another few minutes to write to you again, I want to tell you about the rest of this house and how every room we made love in was like being on a tour of Europe where you have to stay in a different country every night. This was probably the best birthday getaway we have ever had. I truly love Tom!
Remember me to your Mom!