Birthday Present_(3)

It’s a special day – your birthday perhaps, I tell you a few days before that we’ll be going out…..”Somewhere nice, so wear something you feel really good in – something sexy might be good.” I suggest with a smile.
To your surprise, for our ‘special evening’, I drive away from the city. You’d been sure we would be spending the evening in a hotel and started to wonder what the night held in store. For the past two days I’d been dropping hints about wanting this to be a memorable night, something “exciting” and “out of the ordinary”.
Your curiosity had been aroused even more when you’d seen me place a small, velvet bag in the overnight bag I’d packed before we set off. You hadn’t asked but you were fairly sure there was something of a sexual nature attached to that bag. You’d decided not to ask me anything but let the tension build, flirting with me as we started out.

But now where were we going?
You become amused and intrigued as we drive for about ninety minutes out of town, for the latter part along the rough tracks of a State forest, the moon full and creamy in the summer sky.
I turn off onto a narrow track, which doesn’t seem to lead anywhere until I pull the car up outside the dark shape of a low building. Finding our way by the moonlight, I lead you the short distance to the door of what seems to be a holiday cabin. Near the coast you realize, as you can hear waves breaking on rocks a short distance away.
Holding your hand, I lead you through the door into what appears to be quite a well-furnished room. I point out a comfortable sofa, where you sit and watch with increasing amazement as I move around the room lighting candle after candle – dozens of them, to slowly reveal a large, tasteful room whose centerpiece is a rustic table filled with delicacies; cheeses, canapés, fruit, bottles of wine and a large bucket of ice crammed with champagne bottles.
You start to wonder how I could have organized all this but your thoughts are interrupted by an offer of champagne from me, the dancing flames of countless candles reflected off the frosted glass.

You have only just tasted your first chocolate-dipped strawberry when you feel my hands on your shoulders. You are sitting down and I’m standing behind you, my body close against your back. You continue eating the fruit, appearing to be oblivious, as my hands move gradually downwards, relishing the satin smoothness of the material of your dress and the warmth of your body underneath. You lean your head back and tantalizingly drop the last bite of strawberry into your open mouth at the same time as my palms cup your breasts.