tagLoving WivesThe Birthday Present

The Birthday Present


It was my wife's 35th birthday, a milestone that Kate seemed to be struggling with much more than the big 30, five years earlier, judging by how, over the past few months, her usual sparkle had dimmed. She seemed to be heading for a sort of mid-life crisis, questioning her worth and lamenting the small changes to her body that come to everyone as they get older. I hated seeing her like this and had resolved to do something to revitalise her spirit. With this in mind, I had decided that the best course of action was to embrace her birthday and celebrate it in style. Therefore, I had secretly booked us a room for a few nights in a lovely hotel in our closest city. I had also made a number of other arrangements, such as booking a private guide to show us around the nearby national art gallery. Kate and I both love the arts. We met at school, where we shared an art class, married soon after and have been together ever since. I truly believe we are soul-mates as she is the one person in the world with whom I can and do talk about anything. I know that she feels the same about me.

Having had our tour of the art gallery, we had a delicious lunch in the hotel's restaurant and went back in our room to prepare for that afternoon's activities. I had told Kate that we would be going to the theatre and then on to dinner in a nice restaurant before finally returning to the hotel where I would ensure she had a pleasurable close to her birthday. Kate had locked herself in the bathroom to prepare. I had seen the lingerie that she had packed so I could imagine her long legs in the dark black stockings, the straps of her garter belt framing the lace of her high-cut panties, which were naturally complemented by an equally lacey and flattering bra. But Kate understood that not watching her put these on would add to the sexual tension and, who knows, she might have decided to leave her panties off as she has done in the past.

As Kate dressed, I stood thinking about her preparing herself, about how she may well be imagining me seeing and touching her body later on this evening. I also thought about the birthday card I had hidden in my suitcase and which was safely tucked now in my jacket pocket. I trembled with nerves. The small act of her reading its contents could have disproportionate consequences; that is, if I can bring myself to give her the card.

The bathroom door opened to reveal Kate standing on the threshold, striking a pose. She looked stunning, her black shoes and stockings perfectly set-off the green of her dress, which in turn perfectly accentuated the curves of her body.

"Wow, you look gorgeous." I said, leaning into kiss her on the cheek so as not to smudge her lipstick. As I did this, my hand slipped from her waist down over her buttocks. Beneath the thin silky fabric of her dress I could feel the straps of her garter belt and the edge of her panties. Instinctively, I kissed her neck, inhaling the sweet smell of her freshly applied perfume while my fingers followed the line of her panties further and further down,

"Naughty, naughty." she said, playfully pushing me away. "That will have to wait until later. Is it time for us to be going? I'd hate to miss the show."

I checked my watch, yes, it was about time for us to leave.

"Okay, let's go. Have you got everything?" I asked as I patted my pockets to check I had my wallet, room key and, finally, that the birthday card was still in my jacket pocket. As our hotel room door clicked shut, a wave of nerves passed over me, you know that cold nauseous flush that seems to sap the energy from you just when your name is called to speak in public. We stood waiting for the elevator to arrive. I restlessly shift from one foot to the other. Kate looped her arm through mine and smiles at me. I tried to smile back; she must have been able to feel me shaking. Ping. The elevator doors open. We step in. Kate presses the button for the lobby. The doors close and I lean over and press the button for two floors below ours.

"Why did you do that?" Kate asked, looking at me quizzically.

"There are a couple of people who would like to see you...wish you a happy birthday...business colleagues of mine." I stammered. "they are are staying here. We'll just pop in briefly. They are looking after one of your presents for me."

Kate smiled. "Oh, so that's why you have been acting a bit strange."

I didn't have to answer as the doors slid open.

We stood outside the room, I took a breath and knocked. The sounds of voices from within died and the door was opened by a well dressed black gentleman called John. John was tall and broad and stood probably five inches taller than me and almost a foot taller than Kate. He shook my hand with a firm grip and I introduced him to Kate, who he kissed on the cheek before invited us in. As we entered the room we, or I should more accurately say Kate, was greeted by a cheer of "Happy Birthday" from the four other men in the room. Both Kate and I laughed when we noticed that the room had been decorated with a few balloons, hanging from the light fittings. The bed's headboard had a birthday banner draped over it and in the centre of the bed, with shiny wrapping and bow, was a large present.

"Is that for me?" Kate asked me eagerly. At the same time John came up beside her and, placing one hand gently on her shoulder, offered her a drink with the other.

"To the birthday girl!" He cried, and they all raised their glasses and drank to Kate.

"Well are you going to open it?" I asked, genuinely excited to she face when she saw what I had bought her.

Kate put her glass down and leaned over the bed to slide the present towards her. For a brief instant, she presented me with the exquisite view of the fabric of her dress pulled taught across her buttocks, the straps from the garter belt clearly showing. I was transfixed, taking in every detail. I was also aware that John, standing beside me, was doing the same. He too must have been imagining her bent over that bed, her dress pulled up to the stockings that he now knew she was wearing.

Kate tore open the wrapping to reveal a painting that she had fallen in love with at a gallery we visited a couple of months ago. Her face was a picture of surprise and delight.

"Oh my, I would never have guessed. Thank you so much." she said, jumping up and hugging me. "Are you sure we can afford it." she whispered in my ear.

"Yes," I nodded. "Anything for you." I kissed her deeply.

"Kate, there's another part to this present." I said, reaching for the birthday card in my pocket.

"I just need to pop out and fetch it but while I'm doing that why don't you open the card."

I handed her the envelope, exchanged a quick glance with John and then quickly made for the door. Once in the corridor, I almost ran to the end where it turned a corner and stood there, out of site of the room I had just come from. I waited, half expecting Kate to come looking for me at any moment soon, after she read the card.

It read:

To My Dear Wonderful Loving Wife, Kate,

Happy Birthday

After a great deal of soul searching I have decided that you deserve to have what you desire. How can I deny someone who has given me so much pleasure a pleasurable experience she craves. If you haven't already guessed, these men are not my business colleagues but the other part of your present. The only reason they are here is to fuck you. I have chosen them because they are trustworthy and, importantly, each of them can offer you significantly more than I can (a couple of them a great deal more). I hope I have chosen well for you my angel. They know why they are here and they are all eager to show you a good time; however, they also know that, until now, you have been unaware of these arrangements. As a result, they will follow your directions as to how much, if anything, they do. I have decided to give you your privacy for this experience so that you can enjoy it fully, uninhibited by any worries about what I might feel or think about anything you might do. Do everything you want for as long as you want and, when you are ready, join me in our room where I will be waiting for you, my beautiful wife.

I love you with all my heart,

Your Husband

P.S. I have arranged for John to bring his video camera with him. I have asked that between them they try and capture everything on film. That is assuming that at least one of them can hold back from paying you their full attention (a tall order I know). When you are done, you can keep the tape as a memento of the day, to do with it whatever you want.

I waited; was it a minute or ten? My heart pounding in my chest. Kate hadn't come out. I waited longer. Surely by now she must have read the card. The lift doors opened and, in a trance, I followed their subliminal message, got in, and returned to our room.

I sat on our bed, the room was quiet except for the sound of the street below and the hum of the mini-bar. I didn't know what I was feeling or indeed what I should be feeling. Emotions washed over me; fear, excitement, jealousy, regret. At the same time I was upset that Kate hadn't come to find me and yet so excited that she appeared to be going through with the plan that I had put in place. Throughout our marriage we have been open with each other about our feelings and one thing that we repeatedly discussed was that, as we were young when we married, neither of us had really 'played the field' much. For me, this wasn't really an issue; yes, I wonder what it would be like to sleep with other women but I know that Kate is by far the best catch I could ever hope to get and more than enough to keep me happy. However, for Kate, things are different. I know that it's not that she doesn't love me, it's just that the 'what if's' niggle her much more and have recently begun to get in the way of her being entirely content.

Despite all the planning that I had put in to this, it became clear that I had neglected to give any thought to what I would do while waiting. I couldn't go out because I wanted to be here when Kate came back and yet I was climbing the walls of our room not knowing when this would be. Everything sparked off thoughts about what was going on in the room two floors down. Her perfume wafted off my clothes, conjuring up images of her neck and the way she purrs when I kiss it and nibble her earlobes. The panties that she wore earlier today lie on the floor exactly as they were when she stepped out of them to shower. The last thing to touch the upturned gusset was the soft smooth skin of her labia; her labia that, in the last 15 years, had only been touched by me but that probably won't be the case tomorrow. Indeed, it might already be the case. No, surely not, how long has she been alone with them?

I keep looking at my watch. The minute hand slowly drags on 15 minutes, 17 minutes, 19 minutes. I try and imagine what might be happening. Are they still talking? Has anyone touched her yet? Has she touched anyone? Where? How much can have happened in 22 minutes? Perhaps I could go down and say I've changed my mind. No, I don't want to do that. I promised her this; it's her present; something she wants, something she needs. She must want it otherwise she would be back here by now. Anyway, could I stop it even if I wanted to. I go to the bathroom to splash water on my face to try and calm these thoughts. On the side of the bath is Kate's razor. I imagines her standing there, as I have seen her many times before, making sure that her pussy lips were smooth; preparing herself for me, unaware that I was standing in the other room with the knowledge that, in all likelihood, I wouldn't be the next one to run my tongue through her delicious folds. I wonder who will.

I hear the muffled ping of the elevator door opening. I hold my breath, is that Kate? I hear voices as a couple walk down the corridor and go into another room. Disappointed and still on-edge, my mind wanders to hearing the sounds of the men talking while we waited for John to answer the door. What would I hear now if I stood outside that door? Is there, somewhere in the hotel, a guest or member of staff who has walked along that corridor two floors down and now knows more about what is happening in that room than me?

I've got to calm down so I raid the mini-bar but that does nothing to abate the throbbing in my pants. I've been desperately avoiding touching myself because I guess that once I start I won't be able to stop and I don't want to come. This is partly because, this time, I want to save that for when I am with Kate but I am also scared that if I climax I will be overcome with post-orgasmic remorse for what I have done.

Eventually, it's supper time and while I am not hungry I go through the process of ordering something from room service. Kate can't be gone much longer so I order for her as well.

Sometime later, a member of staff removes the plates, including Kate's untouched meal. It's dark outside and in the room. I've tried reading and watching TV but nothing can distract me from my thoughts so I strip and slip between the cool sheets. Rocking my hips, my hard cock slides rhythmically across the fabric, each small movement sending a ripple of pleasure along its length and seeming to add to its rigidity. The only light in the room is the glow of my laptop. I have resorted to torturing myself by looking through the photographs that each man had emailed me when he applied to fuck Kate. I lie there, imagining each one of their cocks penetrating my wife. I know how her pussy feels when I slide inside but what will she feel like to them? How is she feeling with them inside her?

I have just woken up which means I must have nodded off. The curtains are still open and the street lights are on outside. I'm slightly disorientated, unsure of what time it is and then, with a start I remember where Kate is. She suddenly feels very far away. The knock on the door comes again; I realise that it was this that woke me from the fitful dream-world I was in. I find a dressing gown and open the door to see John standing there. He holds out the room key card to me and says.

"We're all done now. I left Kate alone in the room, sleeping."

I took the card, "Thanks."

He shook my hand, "When you want to do this again, give me call. It would be a pleasure." and then turned to leave.

"Thanks, I will." I replied, slightly unsure of how to respond. John seemed relaxed and almost nonchalant; his tone wouldn't have sounded out of place coming from a plumber who had just finished the annual service of a boiler. By contrast, had I just thanked him for...for doing God knows what to my wife?

I looked at my watch, it was almost one in the morning. It had been over eight hours since I gave Kate that card and walked out of the room where she was now sleeping. I needed to see her. I quickly dressed and hurried down the two floors and knocked on the door. No reply. I knocked again and still no reply, so I slid the key card into the handle, waited for the light to turn green and then slowly opened the door.

Slipping inside the room I was immediately aware of two things; firstly, the lights were still on and, secondly, that the air was thick with the smell of sex. One sniff was enough to convey an image of hot sweaty bodies, spilt semen, alcohol and Kate's perfume, now stale, battered by the other odours. I moved forward into the room and immediately saw that the bed, which was neatly made up when I last saw it, was now in disarray. The covers had been completely torn off and scattered around the room. One sheet had even been twisted to create a type of rope. Some of the pillows lay on the floor while others had obviously been piled on top of each other on the bed next to where my wife now lay.

Kate was completely nude and lying on her front across the bed. Her left leg was bent up meaning that, from where I stood, her vagina was in full view, presenting itself to me. I was taken aback at how red, puffy and wet her labia were and also by how open she looked. Kate was normally much more compact. Looking more closely, I could see a thin string of fluid running from her cunt to a large wet spot on the bed beneath. Looking around I noticed that there were several others of these in various locations on the bed.

Crouching down by Kate's head, I touched her lightly on the shoulder.

"No more." she mumbled.

"Kate, it's me. Are you okay?"

"Oh," she started becoming slightly more awake. An expression of concern washed across her face and she made a feeble and clumsy attempt to cover herself. "I didn't want you to have to see me like this, before I had showered."

"Well I'm here now. Let's get you into a bath."

"Thank you." she said with an exhausted mumble.

When I had drawn a bath, I again roused her from a shallow sleep and helped her move her tired body into the bathroom. As I supported her I noticed how her back was still damp with a sheen of perspiration. As we neared the bath, Kate lifted a leg to step in. I stopped her.

"Sit on the edge for a moment." I instructed her and she did.

I knelt in front of her and slowly began to pull her knees apart.

"Please, no" she pleaded in realisation of what I was doing.

"I just want to look at you before we clean you up."

She reluctantly conceded and soon I could see the tops of her thighs, slick with a cocktail of semen and her own juices that had escaped from her during the short walk from the bed. Her tuft of pubic hair was also damp and matted. Gently, I ran two fingers along her labia, which caused her to flinch; she has obviously sore. I slowly slid them into her vagina. It felt incredibly hot and open. My fingers were slick with juices, When I withdrew them, without say a word, Kate took my hand a placed the two fingers in her mouth and sucked them clean. I helped her into the bath and then stripped off and joined her. Sitting behind her, I gently washed her hair and held her while she dozed until the water became tepid.

Slightly more refreshed but still exhausted, Kate slipped into her dress not bothering with her underwear. I gathered her belongings, including her lingerie, the painting and two mini-DVDs that had been left, by John, beside her on the bed. Glancing at the black lacey panties she wore earlier I could see the, now dry, evidence of her previous excitement; my cock thickened and strained against my pants. We returned to our room in silence, curled up in the bed, and slept.

The following day was a little awkward. I told her that while I thought I would like to know what happened, I wouldn't be the one to bring it up and, as I had promised her, she didn't have to talk about it. Likewise the mini-DVDs, which I presumed had the video record of the event on them, were now in her handbag and she could choose what happens to them, who sees them and when. On her part, she wanted reassurance that I wasn't upset with her, which I tried my best to show her. As far a sex goes, for a few days, Kate was too sore to allow me that pleasure but she saw to my needs and when things did return to normal I noticed that Kate had a new energy about her. We seemed to be constantly touching each other and fucking. Often it was Kate initiating it and, sometimes, in the most unusual places.

Over the following months Kate told me or let slip little details about those hours she spent with five men but never a full account. As her birthday approached, we spoke about what she wanted and how she wanted to spend it. She said that she would arrange it all. So, when the day finally arrived, I nervously found Kate and myself checking into the same hotel. I discovered that Kate had arranged for us to be given the same room that she and the men had used. After supper, at which she wore the same green dress and similar lingerie, we retired to our room. Hoping for a sensual evening I was a little perturbed when Kate switched on the television until I realised she was putting a DVD into the machine.

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byDickWittington© 31 comments/ 102883 views/ 39 favorites

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