I tell you, even on his birthday Mason buys me gifts. This glitzy western shirt was for tonight. Soft sweaters are more my style, but it was Mason’s birthday, and if he wanted me in tight jeans and high-heeled boots, then that’s what I was wearing. I tucked it in and he asked if I was ready.

“For what?” I asked.

He loved to be teased, but tonight the tables were turned and he was doing the teasing. He grinned and I pushed my chair away from the mirror and switched out the lights. He escorted me to his car and drove us to his favorite Café.

Mason cajoled me into undoing the top button of my shirt after a young waiter had dropped a tray of drinks ogling me. Mason’s eyes gleamed with excitement. It was all part of his game. I smiled and walked my fingertips up the buttons, then flicked the top one open. The one below it popped apart, too, from the weight of my breasts. Not surprisingly, our water glasses were filled frequently from then on. A bottle of wine accompanied our steaks, and afterward, Mason pinned me playfully against the side of the car, got me all hot, and then let me slip into the passenger seat.

We drove to the outskirts of town and I began to think about what Mason might want for his present, once we got home.

Colored lights spun at our next destination. Mason took me very possessively by the arm as we walked into the bar. A country group was playing and the lead singer winked at me as I wiggled my bottom into an empty chair.

We had a great view of the stage. There were a lot more guys than girls in the crowd, so I got lots of looks. Mason ordered drinks for us as the band went on break. Two guys began to clear the stage. I wondered what they were doing,

“It’s for the girls; you’ll see," he whispered in my ears.

Three hung guys at an adjacent table grinned at me. I ran my finger down my tall cooler glass. Rivulets of moisture accumulated on my fingertip. I raised it to my lips and caught the cool water droplet with my tongue and felt my nipples harden.

The lights dimmed. Spotlights illuminated center stage. Four girls pranced into view, then slithered down among the audience. A petite, well-endowed blonde made her way toward Mason. I glared, but he pushed a ten pound currency note into her waistband.

As the girls returned to the stage, they had their outfits full of currency notes. As the show started, I leaned toward Mason and whispered that I could do even better. That was the evening’s turn.

The first act cleared out. The announcer grabbed the microphone and my attention picked up as he called for female volunteers from the audience to participate in a wrestling match. Mason had a big grin on his face. I realized this was my chance to give him a memorable birthday present.

I didn’t think anyone had heard my boast, but the guys at the next table began pointing at me and chanting, “Here’s a volunteer!”

I slumped in my chair, having second thoughts, but the rest of the audience picked up the chant. Mason then pushed me toward the stage. What could I do?

“How about a hand for the brave lady?” the announcer asked as I mounted the stage.

The crowd complied and I started feeling good about my decision. Only one other girl was onstage, the little blonde who had come on to Mason.

“This should be a piece of cake,” I thought, eyeing her small frame.

The announcer explained the rules. We were no sooner in the tiny pool than the girl hooked my legs from under me. I slipped, bounced on my bottom, and the next thing I knew, I was pulled out into the middle of the oily wrestling ring.

My jeans and shirt were soaked. It was slicker than ice. I rolled to my stomach, my hands clutching for anything. My breasts slid along the oily plastic floor, turning my shirt transparent and sticking it to my jiggling tits. A moment later the petite blonde was on top of me.

I couldn’t believe her strength and dexterity. Several more buttons popped open, displaying my sizable chest as she rolled me on my back. I tried to push her off, to no avail, but seconds later the announcer rang the silly bell, ending the round.

I was so winded I didn’t hear the bell for round two. No sooner was I back in my corner when my bottom hit the floor again and my tits bounced right out of my bra. My shirt was open to the waist. I scrambled to my knees. The battling blonde and I wrapped our arms around each other and fell to the floor. I huffed and puffed as she sat on my stomach.

Refusing to give up, I launched a new effort to free myself. The blonde caught my wrists, crossed them over each other, and stretched them above my head. I felt the confining pressure on my breasts. My eyes rolled up. I arched my back to get more of it. My knees smacked together, squeezing my pussy. Electricity flickered through my body. I was on the brink of coming when she slid over my face and off my quivering breasts. The damned bell again!

I was dying to cum, but the orgasm escaped me. I was determined not to end up on the bottom again. I attacked, and this time I landed on top. I wanted payback. But as I slid forward she spilled me expertly, and fifteen seconds later I was doing all I could to avoid being rolled onto my back. I failed, and the blonde smiled as she slid up and squeezed my breasts between her thighs. Orgasmic shock hit my pussy.

She knew what she was doing and rocked back and forth, massaging my sensitive breasts with her tight curves. Orgasm swept over me. No doubt the crowd thought I was putting up a valiant struggle, trying to un-seat my little opponent. In fact, I was coming nearly out of my skin!

My body shuddered as the bell rang, ending the match. My orgasm had been so powerful my knees felt like rubber as I went back to the showers. The little blonde was gone. I stripped off my oily clothes, turned on the shower, and lathered up, even my hair. When I opened my eyes, there was Mason, stark naked in front of me, offering to get a spot I’d missed. I moaned as he soaped my back.

He told me to get on my knees and I did, facing his stomach. He slipped his rigid member between my big breasts, and I wrapped their warm fullness around him. He slid his cock back and forth, my nipples growing hard as he slowly fucked my tits.

His hand wrapped in my wet hair and the tip of his cock touched my lips. I teased the tip with my tongue. It grew larger, filling my mouth. He caressed my head as he pulled me forward. My tongue scrambled for cover, but his cock slid back and down, filling my throat with his hardness. I wrapped my arms around his ass and swallowed him entirely.

Mason moved again, stretching me out on the wet and steaming floor. The water pounded our bodies. He hooked my wrists together and stretched them above my head, locking my tits between his thighs as he sat on me. I humped my chest in anticipation, lifting my head to get his cock in my mouth. His thighs massaged my breasts and the jolt struck my pussy, spreading up and out through my body. I crested the first orgasm and began to feel the second. My tongue caressed his cock as it slid home. I arched, but he rode me like a very experienced Viking.

I started to thank him but Mason was at my pussy. I cried out, my voice echoing as he entered me. My pussy felt like soft butter as he hammered into me. The water got cooler and I surrendered to the roller-coaster ride. I wrapped my legs around his back. His hands found my breasts and squeezed, sending me into yet another orgasm. Mason came, too, flooding my depths with his cum.

When I regained my senses, I started to apologize for my wild reaction to the girl onstage, but Mason grinned and told me I looked beautiful.

Then I realized I had been set up. “Mason,” I said, before I engulfed his cock, “you always give the wildest fucking birthday parties.”

If you are still wondering who Mason is, surely not my husband. He is my ex and as my husband was away on business I was spending few days up with him in his apartment.