I stood naked in front of the full-length mirror surveying the body nature had given me. After three children, my body had seen its better days, but all in all, it wasn't bad. My hands traced the hourglass shape of my waistline, the curve of my round ass and my substantial breasts, which were surprisingly full for a woman of my age. I was a woman in full feminine bloom; ripe and experienced.
I was pleased. I enjoyed the exploration of my own fingers, which no longer employed the tentative touch of my formative years. They now traced over every inch of my eager skin with confidence and great anticipation. Over the hardening nipples, down the curve of my belly toward my trimmed and throbbing pussy. A delicious smile painted my face as I thought about the exquisite birthday present I could give to myself. But I wanted to wait. With any luck, I'd find someone special to celebrate my birthday with as my girlfriends and I painted the town red.
A short time later, I saw a new woman staring back at me from the mirror. She was a woman about to go on the prowl. Her blue eyes sparkled under flickering candlelight and her blond tresses were soft and shiny, the kind of hair that one might imagine wrapping their fingers through and pulling roughly while fucking her from behind. The dress she had chosen was a thin black slip of a dress that dipped dangerously low in the back and came to rest, in the front, at the cusp of her ample bosom. With any luck, a handsome stranger would be compelled to slide his firm palms inside of that dress, move them up her warm sides and massage her tits while pushing his mounting erection firmly against her ass, holding it there as it bounced and poked at her bottom.
Gooseflesh dotted my arms as the delirious thoughts bumped into each other inside my head. "Don't get wet," I told myself, "Don't get wet." This wasn't the kind of dress that lent itself toward wearing underwear. And certainly not a bra, as I was reminded when seeing the tents created by my fully erect nipples.
The music in the club throbbed provocatively around our table. We laughed and chatted about how we'd met years earlier in college, when life was simpler and we were all free. Yet I knew that I would not have traded my older self for that younger girl for anything. I was well aware of the sexual liberation that I found in my latter years. The kind of liberation that might have allowed me to reach under the table at that moment and stroke my full pussy, dip my fingers inside of myself before using those same finger to stir my drink. I grinned at the thought of it.
Then I saw him, the mature man in the black trousers with the white button down shirt. His sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, and his shirt was opened to the third button, making him appear casual yet professional at the same time. To me, this was the sexiest possible combination. His gaze met mine. We both stared a little too long through the slightly tipsy haze between us and it was immediately apparent that if I consented, this man would be giving me a brilliant, if filthy birthday present later that evening. My pussy twitched as if speaking to me. "Show him your dress. Get up and show yourself to him. Make him want you," it urged.
"Excuse me girls," I smiled as I stood to leave, "Nature calls." I may not have really had to pee, as my statement might have suggested, but nature was definitely calling. What could be more natural than spreading your legs for an exciting, anonymous fuck?
As I had hoped, the stranger rose from his seat, collected his drink and followed me. We walked silently toward the back of the club, his hand on my back, pushing me gently in the direction that he wanted me to go. Through a doorway, where the music still pulsed, down a flight of stairs and out into the open-air courtyard. A small reflecting pool collected the moon's glow and tossed it back against the brick facade of the club. It was quite romantic, but not terribly private. A number of other couples sat at small bistro tables sipping cocktails and speaking in hushed whispers.
"Not here," the stranger whispered, pushing me toward a shadowy inlet at the rear of the courtyard. "Here," he groaned into the nape of my neck as we slid into the obscurity of the recessed pocket of night.
Before I could process the unfolding event, his tongue was in my mouth and his hands caressed my breasts as if he hadn't touched a woman in ages. The desperation and urgency with which he touched me made me ache uncontrollably. My pussy swelled and throbbed. It felt as if it were being torn apart. My back and head hit the brick backdrop a bit more forcefully than he had likely intended as he recklessly pushed me against it while fumbling with my tits. His tongue foraged about my mouth and licked its way down my cheek. He ran it across my ear and I faltered as a barely perceptible moan dribbled from my throat.
My lithe body came to life, and pressed against his. His chest felt hard and strong against mine.
"Do you trust me?" he asked?
"I don't know you," I responded, only slightly aware of the dangers that could present.
