A 50th Birthday Treat to Remember

The day had been looming in my mind for months and now it had arrived. The big 5-0, a full half century on the planet. I can't say I felt that old and nor was I fazed to be moving into "middle age" but it was a milestone nonetheless. I had agreed with my wife Nicky, a couple of years younger than me, that we weren't going to have a big party, just a get-together for a few old friends and immediate family at home on a Saturday evening a couple of weeks hence, which was the closest convenient date for everyone. Which left the question of what to do on the day itself.

"Don't make any plans," Nicky had said a few weeks back, "but it would be nice if you could take the afternoon off work, I have something in mind." So I had dutifully arranged to take that afternoon off, explaining to my line manager that my wife had got some plans for my birthday. He was fine about it, and in practice I could more or less set my own hours as my job in investment management meant I could be fiendishly busy when a slew of company results were due out or a big takeover battle was under way, but balanced out by slacker times when, if I felt like going home early, no-one was going to argue.

So I found myself walking through the front door a little before 1.30 that afternoon and calling out to Nicky that I was home. We had married quite young, had two children who were now away at University, and in term time had the house to ourselves. This had the benefit in that we could now make as much noise in the bedroom as we liked without worrying about who might be hearing us, and if we felt like sneaking up to bed in the middle of a Sunday afternoon, we could. We had also developed a naughty little game whereby I would come home from work at lunchtime -- the house was only 20 minutes or so from the office by motorbike -- for an appointment with my "therapist" in the shape of Nicky dressed in her old nurse's uniform (she no longer worked) and with the massage table set up in the middle of the bedroom floor with candles alight and soft music playing. Nicky was still trim enough to fit the uniform -- the gym and tennis saw to that -- and of course wore it with stockings and suspenders and high heels, having judiciously shortened the hem by six inches. The full Carry On Nurse look.

I would strip off and climb on the table while Nicky would pretend I was a client who had not been coming for treatment as often as I should and then give me a firm therapeutic massage, kneading knots and generally loosening me up before gently sliding into a more sensual rhythm, fingertips creeping up the insides of my thighs, gently brushing my perineum and balls. Sometimes I would get a spanking for my laziness. When she judged I had been teased enough she would order me to turn over and pretend to be shocked by the hard-on that confronted her before asserting that "I think we need to deal with some stiffness here." She would then strip off her uniform and in sexy black lingerie proceed to give me a long, slow, sensual hand job, at which she was an undoubted expert. She would inevitably finish off with "Mr Smith, please don't leave it so long before your next appointment." And then we would both have a good giggle before I took a shower and headed back to the office.

So what did she have in store for me this afternoon I wondered? She came downstairs looking wonderful in shapely black trousers and an elegant purple silk blouse that showed off her stylishly cut shoulder length auburn hair to good effect.

"Happy Birthday darling," she said, giving me a warm kiss on the lips.

"So what have you got in store for me, you've been very tight-lipped?" I replied smiling. Clearly not a session on the massage table from the way she was dressed.

"It will be a surprise, we're going in the car, just change into something comfortable."

So I took off the motorbike jacket, went upstairs and changed out of my suit and was back down in five minutes. Meanwhile Nicky had put on a jacket and had her car keys in her hand.

"It's only about 15 minutes away and there's no problem with parking," she announced as we went outside and got into her car.

"I'm intrigued," I ventured.

"Oh I think you will enjoy this," she replied.

Soon we were drawing into the driveway of a largish house in Wimbledon, which on closer inspection looked as though it was divided into a number of separate commercial premises. The building breathed affluence and I guessed the tenants were probably medical practitioners, architects, lawyers and the like. I gave Nicky an interrogative look.

"Just follow me," was all she said.

We approached the front door at raised ground floor level and Nicky selected a buzzer and when a female voice answered she announced "It's Mr and Mrs Smith for our appointment." More and more intriguing, what sort of appointment, I wondered? And why the nom-de-guerre of Smith?

The front door opened and Nicky walked unerringly to another door set into the left-hand wall of the entrance hall, which was opened within a few seconds by a pretty Filipino girl wearing a white jacket and trousers, giving her a medical appearance. We were ushered into a small reception area and I stood behind Nicky who stated:

"We are seeing Kate and her colleague at 2pm for an hour."

"Ah yes, that's right, why don't I take you through and you can get ready," replied the Filipino lady.

She opened another door off the reception area which gave onto a short corridor and opened the first door on the right, standing aside to allow us to enter. We found ourself in what is best described as a studio, with soft lighting and curtains drawn, stylish light grey décor, some low cabinets and a desk with a chair along one wall and two massage tables set up about five feet apart at an angle to each other of about 60 degrees. The cut-outs for where one placed one's head were at the closer end of the angle.

Our guide pointed towards another door in the far wall and said, "You will find the showers through there with towels and toiletries, please make yourselves comfortable. There are hangers in there for your clothes too." And with that she left the room.

I looked at Nicky expectantly, who had a slight smile playing on her generous lips.

"This looks like a rather upper-class massage studio," I ventured.

"That's what it is," she replied. "And we are going to have a joint massage session. Now let's go and take a shower and be nice and presentable for our masseuses," she said as she led me to the shower room. This was sounding promising I thought - masseuses, no mention of a masseur. But I had been given no indication that this was anything other than a legitimate (and doubtless expensive) therapeutic massage operation. Having it together with Nicky would be fun.

There were two shower cubicles and two washbasins in the spotlessly clean bathroom with fluffy white towels on a rack and hangers on hooks facing the showers. We both stripped off, hung our clothes on the hangers and stepped into our respective showers, which were equipped with soap, shampoo, conditioner and all the other unguents that women seemed to find necessary. I stepped out first and dried myself off with one of the soft towels which I then wrapped around my waist and waited for Nicky to finish. She came out a couple of minutes later and dried herself off, wrapping the towel around her breasts so that it was enticingly high on her legs, which (together with her curvy bottom) I had always found her most arousing feature. She fiddled with her hair in front of one of the mirrors and then said with a broad smile:

"Ready for your birthday treat darling?"

"I certainly am," I replied.

I opened the door back into the massage studio and was greeted by the sight of two very attractive women, who proceeded to introduce themselves as Kate and Miranda. I must have let my jaw sag slightly because Nicky eyed me archly and addressed Kate, who was obviously the more senior of the two, saying:

"Lovely to see you again Kate, and nice to meet you Miranda."

"Lovely to see you again Nicky and hello, you must be James?" she replied in a soft Irish accent.

I took in in a split second Kate's white medical tunic, the elegant stocking-clad (I did hope!) legs atop modest three inch court shoes giving her a height of not far short of six foot, the blonde wavy hair that sat just on top of her shoulders and the clear blue eyes and full lips set in pale skin. Miranda was, I guessed, Eurasian with almost jet black hair, a coffee coloured complexion and twinkling brown eyes, probably four or five inches shorter than Kate and dressed in a shorter white jacket with the same style of white trousers that the receptionist had been wearing. She was stunning.

"Er, yes," I managed to stammer, "and this is all a bit of a surprise to me, but lovely to meet you both too."

"Well, would you like to lie down on the couches, James on the one to the left and Nicky to the right. And are you both happy to be au naturel, it makes the massage must easier to administer?" asked Kate.

"Oh yes, that's fine," answered Nicky without catching my eye and with that draped her towel over one of the cabinets and proceeded to lay face down on the right-hand couch. Without much choice I divested myself of my own towel and, grateful that the swelling I could feel starting in my groin had not had a chance yet to fully take hold, lay face down on the other couch.

It was clear that Kate was going to be looking after me and Miranda would be attending to Nicky. Kate pulled a low table into the gap between the heads of the two couches and I could see bottles of oil, a candle giving off an agreeable scent and some white hand towels. Kate stepped away and pressed a button somewhere and some oriental mindfulness-type music, which might have been Indian, Thai or something else, wafted through the room.

"Ready Miranda?" asked Kate and both women applied a little of the warm oil to their hands. Kate was standing on the side of the couch to my left and Miranda on the side to Nicky's right which gave me a clear view of my gorgeous wife when I turned my head. She had a relaxed smile on her face.

"Thank you for my birthday treat," I murmured.

"Oh, I think you will enjoy this," she replied, with her mouth turning up slightly at the corners.

The first touch of Kate's hands at the base of my neck was heavenly and she proceeded to massage my shoulders and neck with smooth even strokes, at one point her fingertips working up to the backs of my ears which had an electric effect. I could feel my cock starting to fight for space in between my stomach and the top of the massage table. Gradually Kate moved her attentions down my back and then along each arm in turn, her stroking of each finger making me think of something else I'd like her to be stroking in similar fashion. Now she returned to my middle and lower back and the pressure was building. Little knots and tight spots yielded to her ministrations at some mild pain to me and it became clear that she knew exactly what she was doing. On the one hand her leisurely sweeps up my back were most relaxing, interspersed with little stabs as she discovered a sensitive area. I glanced across at Nicky who was clearly enjoying similar treatment from Miranda, her bottom starting to writhe almost imperceptibly in a reaction I knew all too well.

Kate reapplied oil to her palms and was now administering long sweeps down my spine, with her fingers brushing almost accidentally along the crack of my bottom. This was getting seriously arousing and I could feel the old feller fighting more urgently for space underneath me. I began to wonder if Nicky knew a bit more than she was letting on but so far the massage had been entirely legitimate.

"I'm going to move down to your legs now," breathed the soft Irish voice in my left ear. I felt one calf being lifted up and her hands expertly palpated the muscle for a few minutes and then moved to my foot and then toes where her rhythmic kneading gave me a slightly ticklish but intensely erotic sensation, similar to when she had been massaging my fingers. I just lay there and lapped it up, emitting small gasps from time to time.

I looked over to Nicky again and saw that Miranda was engaging in the same sort of treatment. Nicky's eyes met mine and she grinned as if to say, "Enjoying it?" My expression clearly gave me away and I noted that my lovely wife, who had never expressed any Sapphic tendencies, seemed to be enjoying herself equally.

Kate now attended to the other calf and foot in similar fashion and then moved up to the backs of my knees and lower thighs. I began to wonder how high her hands would go, musing all the time as to whether this would be just a legitimate but stimulating massage or whether Nicky had "arranged" something in advance. None of this was making my cock any more comfortable. Tilting my head slightly to one side I saw that Kate was reapplying massage oil to her palms and the downward view I had of her calves at close distance confirmed their shapeliness. Then her hands were on my right thigh, kneading and palpating in a lateral movement but creeping higher ever so slightly with every stroke until she had reached a point about three inches short of my groin. This was becoming extremely sensual and frustrating in equal measure!

At that point she stopped, walked around to the other side of the table, and repeated the procedure on the other thigh. She then switched to long flowing strokes up the length of the thigh, gradually moving from the backs of my legs to the insides, first on the right leg and then the left. Each stroke was finishing at a microscopically higher point until her fingertips "accidentally" brushed my perineum. When this happened a second time, I knew there was nothing accidental about it. I glanced across at Nicky who had her eyes closed with a contented look on her face and was surprised to see that Miranda had reached approximately the same stage with her. This was a turn-up for the books. Perhaps Nicky just wanted to see what it would be like with another woman -- I guess she would know the right buttons to push.

Turning back to my own situation the lovely Kate was now very gently stroking my perineum with her fingertips. She breathed in my ear, "Your wife told me this was your birthday treat, so perhaps a few extras are in order?" I could only mumble my assent as my knees involuntarily lifted my middle off the couch to allow her better access and her cool fingers duly enveloped my balls. I gasped and saw Nicky look across at me. She had a wide smile on her face.

"Happy Birthday darling, don't get too carried away, there's more to come!"

I also noticed that she was rotating her hips and bucking slightly as Miranda's hand delved between her legs. Small moans were emanating from her lips, moans with which I was very familiar and told me she was not far off a climax. The hand movements from her gorgeous masseuse speeded up and Nicky's groans became louder and more frequent until she erupted in a noisy and drawn-out orgasm. I found it incredibly erotic, all the more so as Kate's left hand had now crept in from the side and was gently grasping my straining cock as she continued to stroke my balls with her right. Gradually Nicky's moans subsided and she swung round with her legs over the side of the couch looking at me directly. Miranda stood behind her on the far side of the couch and was starting to unbutton the white jacket.

Nicky addressed Kate directly:

"I can see you are doing a very good job there Kate and no doubt James is enjoying it very much, but do you remember me telling you that there was another service which would benefit him enormously?"

"Oh yes, Nicky, I certainly remember that," Kate replied lasciviously.

"He really could do with it on a regular basis and, to be honest, it is not really my thing and I don't think I am any sort of expert at it, so the administration of a good spanking by you would be very much appreciated."

I could scarcely believe my ears. I didn't think Nicky had told anyone about my little kink but clearly this was to be part of my birthday treat. I saw Kate walk over to one of the low cabinets and extract a number of implements which she proceeded to place on the low table between the two couches one by one.

"I have a leather paddle here, a wooden one, a traditional Mason & Pearson hairbrush and this rather cracking two-tailed tawse which I am dying to try out. This is also going to be rather hot work for me so I think I will take my uniform off."

With that Kate unbuttoned the white tunic and pulled it over her head to reveal a black lacy bra struggling to contain generous breasts (38C I was guessing), sheer black stockings and suspenders and very sexy black loose-legged knickers that still revealed glimpses of an absolutely gorgeous, curvy bottom. I noticed that Miranda had also shed her white jacket and trousers and had revealed a trim and more compact coffee-coloured body in plain white bra and knickers.

"So what do you think Nicky, what does your naughty husband deserve first?" murmured Kate in that soft Irish brogue.

"Oh I think you should warm him up with your hand first Kate, and then move onto a few with the leather paddle," replied Nicky, her tongue flicking over her glistening lips.

With that Kate's right hand descended on my bottom six times in quick succession, she stroked it a few times and then spanked me another half dozen times, her left hand still on my cock.

"That's given him a bit of a glow," observed Nicky from the adjoining couch. "Keep going Kate, he needs a proper punishment to keep him in order."

I wondered if I had died and gone to heaven. I was being spanked naked by a beautiful Irish blonde clad in black stockings and suspenders while my wife and a gorgeous dusky woman in crisp white underwear looked on approvingly.

Miranda spoke for almost the first time.

"I have never seen this done before. His bottom is going a lovely rosy shade. I'm really enjoying this!"

"Oh he will be enjoying it too, for now," averred Nicky, "which is why Kate will have to up the ante a bit to make sure he gets the full benefit."

Kate's hand was now descending on my bum with greater intensity and while I was still loving it, it was definitely getting quite stingy. She obviously worked out; tennis or squash I was guessing. A few loose strands of hair had now fallen across Kate's brow, making her look sexier than ever. She was starting to breathe a little more heavily.

"Right, time to move onto the leather paddle I think," she announced. "Miranda, would you be so good as to towel off James's bottom to get rid of any remaining oil so it doesn't get all over the paddle please?" Miranda responded with alacrity and wiped my backside free of massage oil in a very sensuous manner.

"Now just stay there please Miranda, I need you to keep James properly positioned on the couch while I give him a good spanking with the paddle. Just move slightly to one side so you don't obstruct Nicky's view of proceedings."

With that Miranda's right hand replaced Nicky's on my cock coming in from my right and her left hand cupped my balls between my legs, keeping her hand low so as not to impede Nicky's forthcoming strokes. Nicky picked up the oval leather paddle and flexed it experimentally between her palms a few inches from my nose.

"Oh I think you'll find this very effective, you naughty boy," she grinned. I could sense more than see Nicky nodding in agreement.

She took a step back, placed her left hand on the small of my back and swung the paddle which landed with a loud thwack against one cheek, swiftly followed by a second on the other. Definitely stingy, but Miranda's hands on my cock and balls were taking my mind off it. I obviously had not responded with enough gasping so Kate applied the paddle firmly another four times in quick succession.