Oh Sexy Lady,
You got so tantalizingly close to surrendering the last of your clothes and letting your neighbors have their way with you. My entire body has been throbbing ever since. And ever since I’ve wanted you with a passion that has a newly sharp edge. I know: promises, promises. But seeing you step so close to the edge of a new world of erotic possibilities has gotten me lusting for every last inch of your flesh. I know that if I knocked on your door and found you standing there in a famously skimpy robe, I wouldn’t be able to help myself. That famously skimpy robe would be in tatters, and my mouth would be all over you.
And so – promises, promises – at least for now, I won’t be knocking at your door. I’ll stay the stranger and find something to do with my all-over body throb. And while I’m doing that….
…I think it’s time for you to have another sexy massage. You went further than I would have ever expected with your handsome masseur, although for months I’ve imagined you going further. I have no idea if you’ve seen him since then (although I imagine I would have heard if there were juicy details to be told), and I have no idea whether you told your husband that this masseur gently fondled you to orgasm.
So here’s your next dare: if you did not tell your husband about the experience, tell him now (since the masseur was initially recommended by a friend of yours, you won’t need to mention me or our dares, which is absolutely for the best). Then schedule another sexy massage at the house (it’s summertime, my lusty lady, and you need to relax). You are, of course, welcome to choose another masseur who offers his services at home, but whoever you choose, I want your husband to know about it.
Oh, and one more thing: not only do I want your husband to know (if he doesn’t already) that you were once fondled towards ecstasy by a masseur, and that he (or someone like him) is coming to the house again, but I also want you to ask your husband to stick around for the (sexy?) massage – not in the same room, necessarily (that’s up to you), but somewhere at home.
It’s a challenge, hot one – I know that. I told you I was irrationally excited by your recent exploits and likely to push the limits. I hope you’re as excited as I am by the challenge of being touched by a stranger when your husband is within shouting distance. Will that shut down your libido or set it loose? I have no idea, but I absolutely can’t wait to find out.
Your throbbing admirer,
X
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Dear Mr. X,
I’m sorry it’s taken so long to write back. It’s still difficult to know where to start, but I will say that I followed your instructions to the letter!
First off, my husband and I have been talking a lot about sex with other people. We played around with that a bit more in the first years of our marriage, at least when the opportunity presented itself, and now we’ve been returning to those conversations more – both because of the little adventures we’ve had with the neighbors, which you know about, and because I’ve just been more sexual over the past year (thanks to you!), which also makes my husband more sexual. So anyway, although I have not mentioned our e-mails to him, I had told him how I’d gotten a massage that went a little sexy. I was pretty sure this wouldn’t bother him, and I was right. He even said that I should get a sexy massage whenever I liked!
Which I hadn’t done since that time because I was honestly a little nervous about how far it might go. I was really anxious about this, and I’m not even entirely sure why. I don’t think I’m afraid that my husband might one day decide to leave me, but I am afraid that if we accept too much chaos into our lives, bad things might happen. Then again, bad things happen when everything’s in perfect order too, so I don’t really know what I’m talking about.
Anyway, I called the masseur and set up an appointment for early one evening. It’s been too hot to do it any other time, and he agreed to be there at seven the next evening. He seemed happy to hear from me and very polite as always.
Then I had to tell my husband about the appointment, and the only way to do that was to make it sound as casual as possible. The next morning as we were discussing the upcoming day, I told him that I had a masseur coming over at seven and that I already had dinner planned afterwards. Then I asked if he was planning to be home around that time, trying to make it sound casual, but I’m so bad at hiding my feelings! He instantly saw that there was something behind the question, or at least that I was nervous about something, and he said with this devilish smile of his, “I’m happy to leave you alone with him if you like!”
“No, of course not,” I said, trying to sound flirtatious while I knew that every last emotion I was feeling, from the nervous to the slightly horny, was flitting across my face.
I was practically trembling when I heard the knock on the door at seven, but before I get to that I should say that my husband was working in his office at the time, with the door open, and at about 6:45 when I lightly reminded him that I was about to have my massage, he kissed me on the lips and said, “Enjoy it like the last time if you’re in the mood, and if you want me to come into the bedroom, just make a bit of noise.” This got me instantly wet, even though I was also slightly trembling.
I was nervous that I wouldn’t find the masseur as handsome as I had the first time, but as I let him into the apartment, I saw that he was. He was wearing more or less the same outfit he’d worn before – a loose, long-sleeved cotton shirt and baggy linen pants tied at the waist with a drawstring. Most importantly to me, he seemed clean. He was carrying his bag of oils and candles and whatever, and he was very professional, only shaking my hand politely, although his dark eyes shone – with the thought of how he had excited me the last time, I figured. They shone a bit less when we passed my husband’s office on the way to the bedroom, and I was obliged to introduce them. My husband just briefly waved and went back to his work, but the masseur got a little stiffer and nervously ran some fingers through his dark, curly hair, which I thought was cute.
I was so nervous that when we got to the bedroom I just started undressing right away, wanting to keep busy somehow, even if keeping busy was getting me nude. The masseur was the same. He set his candles on each bedside table and lit them with such focus that they could have been Olympic torches. I already had a big, clean towel prepared on the chair in the room (I had also already shut the blinds to keep it dim) – that’s how nervous I was – and I quickly wrapped the towel around me as soon as I was out of all my clothes (yes, my underwear too – I wasn’t so nervous that I didn’t want to at least enjoy this as much as I could). We sort of smiled at each other awkwardly, and then I lay down on the bed, on my stomach, wriggling a bit to get the towel from under me and out by my sides. I heard the sound of him squeezing oil out of a bottle into his hands, and then I felt him sliding the towel up my legs to just below my ass, and then I felt his hands firmly gripping one of my feet. He rubbed it for a while, pressing his thumb into the sensitive points.
“Does that feel good?” he asked softly. It did, and I told him, not horny at all but finally beginning to relax.
Mr. X, I could spend pages describing this massage, but I’ve got so much to tell you. Here’s the short version: it was all very pleasant, and he worked his way up each leg. When he got to my covered ass, he moved the towel aside just slightly, but then he stopped and gently asked if I wanted him to massage me there. I told him that I wanted him to massage me there. He moved the towel aside one cheek at a time, not so much to completely expose me, but enough that I knew that he could see my pussy if he was looking, and that excited me. Also his hands felt just delicious on my muscles. He’s a really good masseur.
Then the towel came down off my back (leaving just a strip across my ass, if only because it was getting a bit hot in there), and he massaged up to my neck, which felt so good that I moaned a bit with pleasure, then stopped myself for fear that my husband would hear me and come walking in (I had left the bedroom door cracked open slightly, and as far as I knew his office door was still open too).
When it came time for me to flip over, I was actually feeling pretty relaxed. I had been so nervous about how I might manage the situation (whatever that meant), but now I figured that even if I just got this great massage without any hank panky at all, then I would be a very happy girl. As I turned I kept just the strip of the towel covering me (my pussy now), leaving my breasts and legs exposed. The masseur sweetly asked if I would feel more comfortable covered, but I told him that I was slightly warm, so no thank you. We smiled at each other – no flirtation there, but more like, Isn’t this nice? Then he started up my legs again, really kneading into my thighs when he got there, which is the first time I began to feel something like arousal. I’ve been playing a lot of tennis lately, and his fists felt so good pressing into my sore muscles. The top of the second leg is where I began to get openly lusty. It wasn’t something I’d really planned. I just couldn’t help myself. He was doing this thing up near my hipbone where he sort of twisted his hand over my leg down towards my crotch, like a hand accelerating a motorcycle, and as he did this he brushed ever so slightly against the edge of my pussy. Actually I don’t know how close he was – I didn’t look – but his hand felt really close, and I wondered if he was doing this on purpose, and then I felt myself getting wet. I fidgeted around a bit as if I was trying to get comfortable, and as I did I pulled the towel up slightly more with my hands, which were by my side. “That feels good,” I said. I didn’t dare look down to see how exposed I was, and he just went on rubbing down across my inner thigh as if he hadn’t noticed this at all.
Now I wanted something to happen. My heart was beating hard, but I wanted to go with it. I sort of turned slightly. I could hardly help myself. I was angling my pussy just a tiny bit towards him now, but he was pretending not to notice. Maybe he actually didn’t notice, I thought, but then I thought about all the women he rubbed, and I figured he was a world-class expert at spotting these little signs (he must have seen that my nipples were feeling it too), which excited me even more. But it was clear that the presence of my husband was holding him back, so very slowly my hand began to creep up onto my hip as he massaged down to my knee and then back up to that now-throbbing area. My hand eased over onto my belly. I closed my eyes. I wanted to make it look as if I didn’t know what I was doing (and the truth was that I didn’t entirely know what I was doing) as I let my fingers idly slide down toward my moist pussy. As soon as I felt a trace of soft, wet skin, my eyes clicked open and I saw him looking down at me uncertainly. I nodded slowly. I must have looked like a drunk woman. He seemed completely lost and maybe even a little bit afraid. “It’s okay,” I whispered. “He wants me to be happy.”
Even then he would require some coaxing, so I put my hand over his, and led it towards my wetness. I stroked myself gently with his hand beneath mine, breathless with the pleasure, but also with the very vague realization that THIS IS ACTUALLY HAPPENING! I wasn’t actually sure what THIS was yet, but I was hot for him now and wanted to find out more. The thought of my husband in the next room made me even hotter. Then – finally! – I felt his finger slip into me, and I pressed my pelvis up to his hand to feel more of him. He didn’t need my coaxing now. He was fondling me good, so I moved my hands up to my breasts and fondled them at the same time.
At some point I began to moan softly. It was a funny feeling. I was moaning from the pleasure of his thumb, which was now expertly circling my clitoris (this MUST be part of his regular service), but also because I knew that moaning was some sort of signal to my husband, and I wasn’t certain whether it was the pleasure or the desire to signal that pleasure that had actually started the moaning. In any case, I was moaning and I couldn’t have stopped moaning even if I wanted to.
The rest is honestly a bit hazy, and I’m angry that I can’t recall more details. It was one of the most exciting experiences of my life, but it was as if this thing was just happening.
My husband heard my moaning and appeared in the bedroom doorway, his face completely expressionless. I expected the masseur to have a heart attack, but although he didn’t keep stroking me, he kept his hand resting lightly on my cunt. I was shocked by this, but that passed quickly and then I was completely drenched. All three of us had understood what was happening at the same moment and we were all in agreement. It was an absolutely incredible sensation!
“She does get excited, doesn’t she,” my husband said drily. The masseur and I both smiled, and I playfully pressed myself up into his hand, pouting my lips like a petulant little girl. That broke the ice even more, and my husband said, “Maybe I can help,” and walked over to the bed. He got rid of the towel immediately.
Mr. X dared my wife to get a massage at home from her sexy masseur. The catch? He also wanted me to be at home. Her e-mail response was so long, and so potentially revolutionary for our marriage, that I’ve chosen to post it in two parts. The first part of her response is upside. This is the second part. =>
Ever heard of a four-handed massage, Mr. X? That’s one for each breast, one for a pussy, and one for the rest of me. Actually, I shouldn’t make it sound like a joke. It all moved very slowly and sensuously for a while, each man really doing their best to give me a good massage, and nobody really making eye contact. I guess we all made it a bit of a joke at first too, but then it was just pure pleasure, and I began to moan uncontrollably again, and they focused on rubbing me everywhere. After a while, as we all became accustomed to the situation, the men took turns rubbing my pussy and my tits. Their fingers, even the masseur’s, began to actually press into me more often, sometimes two or three fingers. Their bodies were getting closer to mine, and my husband even began licking my nipples occasionally. Earlier I had been making the occasional light comment, like “Now this is a massage!” but now it was all very serious.
Then at some point my husband was kneeling on the bed between my legs, rubbing his hands up and down my thighs and leaning closer and closer in. The masseur was on his knees beside my shoulders, kneading the front of my shoulders and then muscles at the top of my chest, then occasionally moving down to gently fondle my breasts. I had completely given myself over. They could have done anything to me. Then I heard my husband softly saying, “You can kiss them if you like.” And so this wonderful masseur did, timidly at first, but then with actual passion, and I don’t think I’ve ever been so overcome with desire. It was all like a dream, and I just wanted to be taken.
As the masseur was growing comfortable with kissing my breasts, then my belly, his hands beginning to move all over me, even down to my pussy to meet my husband’s fingers (incredible!), I felt my husband’s tongue there too, and I almost screamed with pleasure. I looked up into the masseur’s eyes, and I saw that there was no turning back for him either. I put my hand on his shoulder, then on his cheek. I also noticed through his flimsy pants that he was extremely hard, and I could not help myself. I slowly moved my hand over until it was at his crotch and I could feel him big through the fabric. Briefly I glanced up at my husband, who had lifted his face from my dripping pussy. He smiled, and said: “Everything.” I knew I loved him enormously, and now I also really wanted to feel the masseur’s bare cock in my hand.
For all the sexy things you’ve had me do and write, I realize I’m still a little bit shy when it comes to writing about actual sex, particularly sex that was as personal as this. Startled by my hand, the masseur had pulled his face back from my body. He watched me grabbing at him through his pants until my hand was firmly around his cock. My husband watched too. Time seemed to stop and I felt as if a mild orgasm was already rippling through my body. I reached for the drawstring of the pants and slowly pulled it loose. Then I grabbed at the waist of the pants and pulled them down. His cock popped free, close to my face. Funnily I can’t even really remember what it looked like. It was just right for the moment, if that makes sense. I don’t know if it was beautiful or not, but I do know that it was uncircumcised, unlike my husband’s. It wasn’t big or small – again, the perfect size for the moment – and most importantly, it seemed absolutely clean. It was also incredibly hard, and I began to stroke it. We all watched me do this for a minute or so, as if we were waiting to see if this was going to be the right thing to do. Then we all knew that it was right, and my husband’s mouth was at my pussy again, licking fast and furious and leaving me to the masseur’s cock, which I absolutely had to have in my mouth now.
He rose up on one knee then the other so that I could help his pants off. Then my head was coming up and I was leaning into him. He smelled like a mixture of horniness and soap, which pleased me. I stuck out my tongue, practically hyperventilating with what was happening. Then something clicked and I was ready for everything again. I took the head of his penis in my mouth and began to lick it. My excitement must have been gushing into my husband’s face. Slowly I took the masseur’s cock deeper and deeper into my mouth, turning a bit more on my side as he got deeper. Then I was sucking him in regular strokes, as deeply as I could, as his hands ran all over my breasts and back. I wanted him to take off his shirt, and I stopped for a moment to tell him that. I wanted to see him completely naked, and he may have been a bit bewildered by everything, but he truly was a handsome man – in very good shape, with a strong chest and arms and smooth, dark skin. I took him in my mouth again, flipping all the way onto my side as I did, because I wanted to feel the rest of his body with my hands.
Then I was on my knees, between the masseur’s legs. He had lain back on the bed. I was out of my mind. I was sucking and licking him and feeling him all over, one hand still stroking the base of his cock. Out of the corner of my eye I saw my husband standing on the other side of the room watching us. He was taking off his clothes, and when his cock was free he was stroking himself at the sight of us. I don’t think I have ever been so excited as right then.
My husband moved over to the bed again, but behind me so that I couldn’t see him. I felt his hands on my ass, and then his kisses there. I spread my legs slightly as I sucked so that he could stroke my pussy again, and then I felt his cock there teasing my lips with its head. I think I groaned into the masseur’s cock. Then my husband was inside of me, and we both groaned.
It was so perfect, Mr. X! It was absolutely magical. I don’t really know how long we went on like that, but I was sucking and licking, and kissing the masseur’s belly, and my husband was fucking me hard. Everyone seemed to know exactly what to do in every single moment, and we were all in ecstasy. After a while I kissed my way up to to masseur’s chest. We didn’t have a condom nearby for him to maybe fuck me, but I wanted to try kissing him on the mouth. It was so delicious to feel my body against his. I went on stroking him between the pressing of our bodies and kissed him on the mouth as my husband was driving me wild with his cock from behind. We were all ready for an orgasm, and I felt the masseur coming first, his cock swelling then shooting hot liquid up between our bodies. Then I felt my husband growing more insistent at the realization of this, and as I went on kissing the masseur, my husband came inside of me, then sagged down on top of me so that I was sandwiched between the two men. Maybe that was the horniest feeling of the entire experience. I just stretched and wiggled between them.
Slowly we pulled apart from each other until we were separate on the bed, and although I had probably had several little orgasms since the beginning, surprisingly (probably nerves) I hadn’t had that big bang. Lying back in perfect joy, I slowly began fondling myself again. The men, who were on either side of me, eventually revived from their stupors enough to notice this, and then we were back to the massaging – my breasts and my legs, but mostly my pussy, both of them there, rubbing and prodding, until I was screaming out and bucking up and down in a MASSIVE orgasm.
We laughed about it afterwards, and then the masseur, to his credit, realized that we didn’t want a lot of small talk. He went off to the bathroom with his clothes and came back fully dressed and ready to go. I insisted on paying him and flounced up out of bed to find some money (his come still on my belly!). I could sense the men admiring me, and that made me happy. Then I shook the masseur’s hand with a smile, and he left. My husband and I went off to the shower together, and then back to bed. Are you surprised that we didn’t stop for dinner that night?
Mr. X, I’ve been sitting here typing for two hours, and I realize I’ve practically written a book, but you deserved a proper update and I’m going to want to keep the memory of this experience for a long, long time.
So thank you, Mr. X! A thousand times thank you! What more can I say? Thank you forever!
Love,
Your eternally devoted and completely massaged me. To contact with this masseur, have a FREE CHAT in this page.
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