Couples Massage

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It was only a few years ago that my wife, Annie, and I, still in our late 20s, became good friends with another couple, Sandy and Jim. Annie and Sandy started things, both having part-time, work-from-home jobs at the same company. They met at new employee orientation and immediately hit it off. Jim and I have our own full-time careers, in different fields.

Annie and Sandy were soon getting together for the occasional lunch, then that morphed into morning jogging workouts, followed by coffee at either their or our place, the whole arrangement working out very well. Sandy and Jim were a couple of years older, but we shared lots of similar background tales, and while Sandy and Annie were the close friends, Jim and I got along fine, so the foursome was quite compatible.

Naturally, that led to us swapping – dinner invitations, that is. Pretty soon, it was regular thing for us to spend at least one day or evening per weekend as a foursome, whether hiking in the nearby countryside, or cooking together, taking in the occasional night spot or concert, or having each other over for dinner. One night at our place after dinner, and after several adult beverages, Jim mentioned how much they’d loved a vacation the year before to the Caribbean at a couples resort – not the wild and crazy kind, but a well-known couples venue of its own. While they were there, on a whim they got a “couples massage” at the resort spa, and when they recounted it.

“Couples massage??” my somewhat naive Annie asked.

“That’s right,” her newfound friend (and something of the mother hen of the two) Sandy answered. I took the following explanation as an excuse to check out Sandy more closely. She, like Annie, was about 5’5″, an ash-blonde with blue eyes to my Annie’s brunette and brown. Otherwise the girls were pretty similar – medium build, what I guessed were healthy B-cup breasts, nice generous hips without being noticeably big.

Continuing, Sandy was clearly enjoying this, she added, “You and Ed should really try it sometime – I know you’d love it – especially you, Ed – or maybe especially both of you!” she chuckled, swapping knowing glances with Jim.

“How does that work?” Annie took the bait.

“Well, decided to do their spa thing, and when we got there for our appointment, the receptionist asked if we wanted separate or a ‘couples massage.’ We asked the same thing, and she told us that we would be massaged in the same room, and could select either male or female, or one each, masseuses, however you pronounce that.”

“And what did you pick?” Annie was tuned in on all frequencies – I could see her eyes shining and I imagined that she was imagining exactly what, I hoped.

“We picked one of each. Then a woman dressed like a hospital orderly showed us into a private dressing room joined to a bathroom, gave us big fluffy bathrobes to wear, and explained that we should shower first, then enjoy a tub soak in the next room beyond, and ring an indicated bell when we were ready for the massage part. Before leaving, the orderly lady pointed out a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket with glasses (they were plastic, but nice) next to it, saying it was compliments of the management with congratulations on our anniversary! Nice touch!”

“Sounds very luxe,” I offered, figuring I should add something to the discussion, but really just wanting to listen now, and imagine what Sandy might look like in that shower, and then in that robe, and then . . . .

Sandy continued, yanking me back to reality, “It was – the whole resort was that way, and we paid big bucks for it, but we figured it was an anniversary splurge, and I think it was worth it – how about you, hon’?”

“Absolutely!” Jim smiled.

“So there we were – we showered, although it was awkward because Mr. Horndog here wanted to mess around in the shower, and I had to fend him off with promises of future fun,” Sandy smirked.

“Future mutual fun, right?” Jim countered.

“Oh, yes, the feeling was mu’tual, all right,” Sandy grinned, then continued. “So we got all clean, then we went to the next room and there was this enormous spa tub, more of a spa pond, really – all surrounded by vegetation, sort of like being in a jungle pool or something – very romantic. The room was cool, but the water was sort of gently swirling, not bubbling like a hot tub or anything, and steam was rising from it.”

“As in really, really hot!” Jim broke in. “It must have taken me five minutes to get all the way in, while Mrs. Unfazed here just slipped in and proceeded to laugh at my efforts to keep from being parboiled!”

Sandy laughed, remembering it well, and scoffed, “Some tough guy – anyway, we finally got in and soaked, just soaked – with our glasses of bubbly, of course, probably for a good ten minutes plus, before the heat of the water was starting to get to us. I think Jim was ready to get out before I was, but after my teasing, he was gutting it out, so I took pity.”

“Pity?!” Jim whined in jest.

“It’s ok, he got over it. So we scrambled maltepe escort out and Jim rang the bell while I was putting on my robe. Another door to the pool room opened, and there were our masseuses. One gorgeous blond woman, in her thirties maybe, her hair up, in shorts and a tank top that was obviously, very obviously, not encumbered by a bra, and hunk of a guy, also blond, younger than the rest of us, very clean cut and really buff, with similar shorts and tank top.”

“No bra for him either, huh?” I joked.

“No, but it sure looked like no underwear either – not that I noticed, of course.”

“Not that you noticed until at least a nanosecond had passed, that is,” Jim chortled.

“‘I’m Drake, and this is Diane,’ the hunk introduced, and ‘We’ll be taking care of you this afternoon. Do you have a preference of who massages whom?’

“We looked at each other, and it was obvious what we preferred, but not quite yet obvious that we were about to admit it to each other, much less announce it. Thankfully, Jim solved that and said, he thought male on female, and female on male would work best. I didn’t miss the pun, but let it go. Jim added that if he was going to have someone squeezing his glutes, he sure as hell wasn’t going to be able to relax if it were a male. Obviously, Jim has never had a professional massage, but I love him anyway.”

Jim blustered a bit at that, but it was all in good humor.

“Yes, well,” Sandy continued, “that was fine with me, too. So then they explained we were to lie face-down, heads cushioned beyond the length of each bed by a padded horse shoe shaped pillow attachment. There were two massage tables, adjacent, side by side. Attire? I asked, still unsure of the procedure and etiquette.”

“‘Per your comfort. Note the towels here (she pointed) if you prefer to be covered,’ Diane answered.”

“‘Well, then, in for a penny,’ Jim said, and dropped his robe, climbing up on a table and lying down in a pretty quick movement. Neither massager batted an eye at his being bare-assed. That left it up to me. I hopped up onto the other table in a sitting position, shrugged off the robe, then spun and lay down quickly as well, taking care to fold my breasts to where they were comfortable. So there we were, bare buns up, heads down. I felt Jim search for and find my hand next to him, and it was sweet that he wanted to hold hands!”

“The massages continued, very professionally, and I looked over to see that Diane was doing the same thing to Jim as Drake was doing to me, which somehow heightened the eroticism of the whole thing, which was undeniable, but unspoken between any of us. They stood on the sides of the tables and started with our feet, really giving a great foot massage, which is a wonder all in itself if you’ve never had a proper one. Then they moved up to the calves, then to the thighs, and kept everything very within bounds, despite our nakedness. After a bit, they moved up to the head end sides of the tables and did our un-held hands then outboard arms, then shoulders, then swept long stroked down our backs. I went from being nervous to getting turned on to being just relaxed. So far, so good.

“When they’d done that, they asked us to turn over, which I knew was going to be a moment of truth. I glanced over at Jim when we flipped, and was a little relieved that he wasn’t all erect, maybe a little more swollen – I didn’t really get a good look, but definitely not sticking up in the air or anything. I just flipped and lay back down, closed my eyes – it just seemed natural – we’d been pretty sightless with our faces in those pillow things, so I just kept it up.

“As we settled down, Drake asked, ‘You folks doing ok with this so far?’

“We both murmured our yesses, and he said, ‘If there’s anything special you’d like, or if there’s anything that makes you uncomfortable, please let us know.’ Talk about an opening!”

“‘Whatever you like – we’re here for the works!’ Jim said, and I’m sure I blushed at that, probably from my toes up.”

“‘Coming right up,’ Drake answered, and I couldn’t quite tell if he was continuing the joke or just answering a vanilla response.”

“It wasn’t vanilla. Drake started in on my legs, and spent a lot less time on the fronts than he had on the backs. With the pillow things, I managed to reach back and pull mine up, and went with the eyes wide open after all. I looked next to me and saw that Jim had done the same thing and was watching Diane do his thighs, and then I saw that, sure enough, he was hard – that didn’t take long! His dick was just sort of waving in the breeze, while Diane absolutely ignored it and worked his quads. I took a minute to figure out if I was jealous, or was going to be if things went further, then I felt Drake do this long stroke with one hand on the outside of my thigh and one on the inside, from my knee up almost to, so close to, my, you know. And I realized I was enjoying that, and figured good for goose and gander alike, and relaxed into the pleasure of it all.

“It escort maltepe didn’t take long for me to have to start moving my hips, just a little, hoping Drake would go a little higher. I think he must have registered that, but then he came around and started doing my shoulders from the front, then working to my chest, and finally, alongside me, stroking the outside of my breasts almost incidentally – maddeningly incidentally, dammit! All along, he’d been replenishing the supply of oils like massage people do, and then without asking or warning, he took a generous handful and spread it all over my breasts! I almost launched off the table, and he stepped back, I guess worried that he’d crossed a line that Jim had indicated was ok to cross. ‘Sorry,’ I murmured, and lay back. That got Jim to look over and see what was going on. I smiled at him as Drake started working the oil into both my breasts, and was glad to see Jim smile at what he was seeing, and I looked and saw his dick give some extra waves. OK, then, all systems go, for sure, I thought, as I felt my nipples hard and my breasts being cupped and stroked and the nipples squeezed – delightfully!

“Next, Drake kept at my breasts, but with just one hand, moving back and forth, not quite predictably, but giving each about equal attention, as his other hand started stroking at my navel and moving downward, no doubt in where he was going!

“I just lay there, and watched Drake’s strong arms, glancing from time to time at Diane’s treatment of Jim. He was in the same situation, but soon Diane left his chest alone and used both hands on him, one under his sack and the other just blatantly stroking him! I was amazed, and surprised that I wasn’t all jealous-angry, seeing my husband getting a hand job from someone else! I realized I was even more turned on by it, and all that was heightened by Drake’s finding me wet and welcoming, and as a professional would, having no trouble at all finding my special area – ok, areas – of excitement.

“I don’t’ know if it was the build-up, or the strange naughtiness of it all, or what, but it took only about 30 seconds of that for me to realize I was going to come, right then and there! I heard myself whimper, and looked over, and Jim was a fraction ahead of me. I watched, amazed, as he shot off, the first spurt rising a foot or two into the air, and that put me over for sure, and I just came . . . and came . . . and came! I’m sure I cried out, but I don’t really remember the details by that time.

“I know I was exhausted after that one big O, and I guess so was Jim. Drake and Diane said nothing at all at first, just took fresh towels and wiped us down of the oils (and of whatever Jim had produced). Finally, Drake said, ‘We hope you’ve enjoyed your time here this afternoon. If there is anything we can do further . . . .’

“‘No, no, thank you, I think we’re fine,’ Jim sort of sighed, and I didn’t argue with that. The two of them left us alone, and after a couple of minutes, Jim asked if I was still ok, and I said I was, and we made our way back to the showers, took quick clean-off turns, then dried off and got dressed. On the way out, Jim signed the tab, and I’m sure he tipped well. And that was that.”

“Whew,” I said. “Amazing story – you lucky guys!”

“Yeah, lucky us,” Jim answered, sort of dreamily for a guy, and he took Sandy’s hand and squeezed it and they looked at each other, remembering – it was really a Hallmark moment – I’d have said ‘awwww…’ if I’d thought of it.

Annie, on the other hand, whacked me on the shoulder and said, “Lucky them!? I suppose you’d want to get some babe to do that to you, huh?”

“Only if you were next to me getting the Drake treatment, hon!” I said, backpedaling only a little.

“Well, we were lucky,” Sandy chimed in. “And you really should try it if you get the chance!”

“I can’t imagine doing that,” Annie persisted.

“Well, maybe we can discuss it further next week something,” Sandy said quietly. It’s awkward with the guys here, I realize.”

The rest of the evening was fine, but a bit awkward. Sandy’s recount of the couples massage was certainly on my mind, and I expect on everyone’s. Sandy and Jim left earlier than usual, and I suspected they were off to mess around, both having been turned on by the memory. I was certainly turned on and couldn’t wait to get into bed with Annie, and hoped that she was feeling likewise, although a bit worried that she’d been grossed out and would react the opposite way.

Annie and I cleaned up the dishes afterwards, then went through our usual pre-sleep regimens, me first into the bathroom since it takes her more time (ok, and I admit I’m frequently asleep by the time she finishes – not that night, though). As Annie crawled into bed, I rolled over and wrapped her up in my arms, sneaking some kisses down onto her shoulder and neck (which I know she likes). To my mild surprise but beyond-mild pleasure, she nestled in her body signaling all the right things, including already being well lubricated when maltepe escort bayan I got to discovering that, and before long, we had a wordless but enthusiastic bout of sex, with her having two orgasms pretty quickly, then a third, as mine arrived.

In the aftermath of cuddling, I asked her if she’d enjoyed the massage story and if she’d like to do that sometime. She demurred, side-stepping, but I knew, and she knew I knew, that it had been the catalyst for our lovemaking. I fell asleep hoping that Sandy could convince her, where she was too embarrassed to be convinced by me.

The next mid-week, she and Sandy planned on lunching together. That evening, Annie told me how it went. Sandy surprised her by showing up at our place way early, dressed for lunch, but with jogging gear in her bag, and suggested they go for a run before lunch. The two of them were good enough friends by then that it seemed fine to Annie, and so they changed and off they sped, doing their usual three-mile course that was long enough to work up a sweat and feel like they’d shed calories, and short enough not to exhaust them. When they got back home, so Annie told me later, she told Sandy to help herself to the guest bath, and Annie went back, stripped, and got into our shower.

I’ve always loved showering with Annie, something about washing your mate, and being done in return, that’s special, or at least is to me – whether or not it leads to having sex, which of course it sometimes does. AND, of course, it does save water, so is no doubt a virtuous activity! As a result, we live in a house that has an extra large master bedroom shower (part of the reason I was taken with the house to begin with, when we were in the market – I think that for Annie, it was more about the closet storage or cupboard space or something). Annie had stripped, heated the water, and barely gotten into the shower, when she heard the door open. In confusion and with something of a shriek of surprise, she turned to see Sandy, also nude, coming through the shower door!

Sandy laughed at her surprise and embarrassment and said something about she should relax, they’d save water this way! Annie, flummoxed, told me that she didn’t know what to do – throw her out and waste a great friendship, just soap down and hope nothing else happened (after all, if a nude female joins one in a bath, one might expect SOMEthing to be about to happen), or go with the flow, whatever that might be.

To Sandy’s credit, she didn’t push it, but joined in the self-bathing, soaping up, scrubbing down, rinsing off (they both have pretty short hair, so no problems there). Annie did likewise, and then Sandy said they should do each other’s backs, and nudged Annie to turn around. Annie did, passive as usual, and Sandy gave her back a good scrub, right down to her buns. Annie said she tightened up when Sandy got that low, but Sandy didn’t do anything other than scrub, then told Annie to rinse and do her. Annie reciprocated, and they got out, dried off, and nothing more happened. Nothing, except Sandy asked Annie how the back scrub was, and told her that a massage would, of course, be much, much better.

So that was how Sandy, extrovert that she is, started to “discuss” the matter as she’d mentioned they should do. At lunch, Sandy persisted, and by the time they were done, Annie was pretty much going along with the idea, if it ever presented itself.

That evening, Annie recounted the episode to me at dinner. I was past attentive, locked in, and imagining the whole thing as she told it.

When Annie finished, I said, “So what are your thoughts about all that?”

“Well,” she started, “part of me knew you would wish you could have been there. Sandy’s breasts are bigger than mine, so she’s a lot sexier, and she’s shaved – shaved clean – down there!”

“Hey, you know that – at least to me – breast size is no indicator of sexiness, but you’re right, I wish I’d have been there to watch! And did the back scrub feel good?”

“I guess, but I was so nervous, I don’t think I gave it much of a chance.”

“And what did you think about scrubbing her?

“It was interesting – she was so smooth, and she has nice back muscles and that great ass…”

“Yours is better, trust me!” I interjected.

“Anyway, it was an interesting experiment – not one I’m thinking we’ll repeat.”

“You might find some disagreement with Sandy there,” I said. “But for now, I’m awfully horny, having listened to a tale of my demure wife in the shower with her possibly bi best friend, all naked and sudsy and all – got time for play?”

She did, and we did, and much later, the dishes got done.

Several weeks later, Sandy and Jim had us over for dinner, nothing special, just a get-together, and Jim had been out of town for a business trip, so we hadn’t seen each other since before the shower incident, which I was sure Sandy would have told Jim about, but that Jim and I hadn’t discussed, or even mentioned.

The dinner was fine – on the light side, with pre-dinner drinks and ample wine helping to make it a convivial evening. After dinner, wine glasses refilled, we relaxed in their living room, and Sandy, as ever, broke the ice. “So, I think I have Annie convinced about the couples massage – how about you, Ed?”

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