It’s her birthday, and I’m doing what I do best. I’m not really built for soft, gentle things. But I know how to kiss, and I know how to touch, so that’s what I do. I call her baby, real soft and low, and I just touch. I don’t tease or fuck around, I get my head between her thighs and do my duty until she gives me different instructions. I’m a giver, through and through. I don’t care about my own pleasure, not when I get it from giving her the pleasure she is so deserving of. We've made love in many places- the back of her car, my apartment, her bedroom, Khan's stall. Anywhere she wants.

I take her gently over the abyss into pleasure. My fingers press against her sensitive flesh with a gentle, sure pressure that can only be found in someone respecting of and devoted to their craft. She calls out for me, eyes closed in extacy, and I murmur that I am right here and she can feel me. The high lasts for a long time, and when she comes down, we both flop apart. I reach out to hold her hand, and she grips mine tightly.

It’s her birthday, and today has been her present. She got to take one of her horses around the old racetrack, we went on a trail ride, I made her dinner and everything. It’s cold tonight. Her birthday is on Christmas Eve, and the Christmas tree I cut down, hauled in, and watched her decorate glints in the corner, next to the crackling fireplace.

She lays on the couch in my arms, naked save for her panties. I’m naked except for my underwear as well, and she has her head resting on my bare chest. I rub her back and turn my attention back to the movie she put on when we were finished, Home Alone. The Doberman puppy I bought purely so I would have an excuse to talk to her, Salem, jumps on the couch and settles in her lap. She’s delighted, and I smile a grin so big it hurts my face a little.