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My wife and I went for massage, as we do somewhat regularly. This time though, our regular pair of therapists were busy with other clients. They would be for a while. We opted to take who was available, then a woman and a man appeared.

I should have known something was up when they split us up. We’d selected to get the same kind of massage and there were plenty of mats available next to each other. My wife and her therapist went right and my therapist guided me toward the door on the left. Standard massage room. He asked me to shower and that he would return in a moment. I obliged.

When he came back, I was lying on the massage table, face down as is the custom. I was n***, as was also normal, but covered myself with a towel draped modestly over my back, b*** and legs.

I’d had massage from a man before and it was a great experience. His hands were stronger and larger, which made the pressure more comfortable somehow. Still, he was the only experience I’d had with a masseur in hundreds of massages over my life. This would be my second.

The massage began as expected with firm pressure walking up the back of my legs, over my b*** cheeks, into the small of my back all the way up to the shoulders. He walked his hands the same path back down, pausing momentarily to give each placement a kneading or squeeze. I exhaled in relief as the tension began melting away.

Back to the legs. Oil. Long strokes up and down the legs, focusing on the hamstrings, the calves, fantastic manipulation of the soleus. I kind of couldn’t help the sounds of relief that were escaping, though I was conscious of how they must have sounded. I even apologized for making them, but he just laughed.

He put more oil up by the tops of my hamstrings, just below the spot where the legs and cheeks meet. He pushed upwards, massaging my glutes with the palms and base of his hand. I suffer with sciatica, and one stroke perhaps hit a trigger point that caused me to cry out with pleasure. THAT was super embarrassing. He assured me it was ok and continued kneading knots out of my a** muscles.

Then I noticed, with each press upwards, he was spreading my b*** cheeks apart. Just a little at first, and just for a quick moment. Then a bit wider and for a longer time. I can’t describe how I felt. The massage felt tremendous, and it felt naughty. I stopped caring and became aware of my extreme tension. I just wasn’t sure if it was fear, apprehension or anticipation.

Then he spread my a** cheeks open quite widely. His thumbs slipped down to my taint and his fingers moved to hold my cheeks apart. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t protest, or maybe it was that I didn’t want to. I really don’t know. All I know is what happened next.

His thumbs gently kneading and his fingers holding my cheeks apart, he leaned in and smelled my a******. He took his time and inhaled so deeply. I could not believe what was happening. I could not believe he had done that, just like I couldn’t believe how hard my d*** got when he did.

When he finished inhaling, he exhaled in a gutteral, animalistic manner. I sat there frozen, only then aware that I had pushed my a** out for him when he did this.

He reached down and put a thumb on my taint, and gripped my rock-hard d*** with the rest of his hand. It was oily and slid easily which only made my position and situation even more precarious. I’d never done anything like this with a man, and was in the last place I’d have expected it to happen, too. You’d think the same if you saw the place and therapists working there.

But it had happened, and now this man was inhaling the scent of my a****** while squeezing my c*** and massaging my taint. Each time I felt his heat on the soft tissue of my a** I quivered. My c*** was leaking clear liquid with each gentle circle of pressure on my taint. I was whimpering.

Then he guided my arms down until my elbows were on the table. He lifted my hips and pushed my knees a part. He shifted my position until my a** was completely spread open and pointed straight up. My back wouldn’t arch any more.

I felt the familiar heat knowing he would smell me again, and then I felt something unfamiliar. It was his tongue making gentle circles all over my a******. He spread me open farther when I whimpered and plunged his tongue inside. I thought I would c** right then, but he squeezed my d*** hard to stave it off.

Then I felt his oily finger running over and around my b*******. It was light pressure at first, then gradually increased until it was much like a firm massage. His finger (thumb I think) would press in and remain still, then move it very gently. Then back to circles pressuring in, open my a****** just a bit.

So here I am, bent over with my virgin a** in the air, never having done anything s***** with a man, and this guy has his nose, tongue and finger in my a******. I’ve tossed all caution to the wind. I was just dying to feel what he would do next.

Then I felt him grab my c*** firmly with his other hand and pull it back toward him. He blew warm air over the length of my d*** and then slide his wet tongue over my frenulum. Again, I cried out, but literally bit the pillow. Then he took about the first third of my d*** in his mouth and sucked it like a maestro.

He kept massaging my a****** while he was sucking my c***, expertly sliding his taut wet lips back and forth over my frenulum. Before long I passed the point of inevitability, and when I did, he did something that I doubt I’ll forget.

It must have been two fingers he slid inside of me, but may have been more. I don’t know. He was sliding them deep inside me, then pressing toward my belly as he pulled them almost all the way back out before repeating this movement. Pressure on the top and sides of my prostate, spasming now and stronger than anything I’d ever felt.

I lost all control of myself. I bit the pillow and began c****** harder than I ever had. Harder than I knew a person could c**. He moaned with his lips gripping and sliding gently over my frenulum. I shook and shivered as he continued gently draining me with prostate massage until I collapsed.

When I was able to open my eyes, he was standing on my right side, his right hand down over my d*** with a finger massaging my hole. He looked at me and locked eyes, but didn’t say anything. He grabbed my hand and put it on his d***, hard under his scrubs (their uniform). It wasn’t large, not even larger than mine, but it was hard as f*** and uncut. I’d never held someone else’s d*** before and my own sprang back to life in response.

I didn’t really know what to do, so I just tried to recreate things I knew felt good to me. He reached behind my head and pulled my face close to his c***. I resisted, but he insisted. Before I knew it, the head of his d*** was between my lips and he moaned. To this day I don’t know why, but I decided to s*** his c***. He groaned and said, “I knew it.”

I looked up at him, my own wet lips pinching his frenulum skin between them as I slid slowly up and down his length. His fingers went deeper inside me and I gasped. “I knew you liked the c***. Pretty wife for such a little f*****.” He slide another finger inside of me.

My d*** leaked a stream of pre-c** as I shuddered. A dry o***** that seemed to last for minutes of me not being able to take a full breath.

I looked up at him and told him truly, “I’ve never done anything like this,” but he laughed with obvious disbelief. “Sure you haven’t, he said, then rubbed the pad of one of his fingers back over my prostate.

Then his face was beside mine. He face-wrestled into a position to kiss me and slid his tongue deep into my mouth. I damn near came again.

“Tell me what you want. You want to s*** me off or do you want to c** like a woman?”

“I-I-want you to f*** me.”

I couldn’t believe I said it. I almost cried.

“What did you say little f*****?”

I whimpered and then repeated myself with a whisper. “I want you to f*** me. Please. F*** me and make me c**.”

“Show me,” he commanded, and I shifted my body to lie down before him. I brought my own legs back and reached for his c***. He pressed it against my hole, but wouldn’t push it inside.

“Tell me again,” he whispered in my ear. “Make me believe it.” I leaned back enough to attack his mouth with kisses, and tried to sink my a** down on his c***, but he denied me. He kept the hard c*** head pressed against my a**, but wouldn’t let me put it inside. My disappointment and desperation could not be hidden.

Then he leaned in and whispered in my ear, “I’m gonna breed you, b****.” As he spoke, he pushed his d*** slowly inside of me until he could go no farther. I can’t describe how that felt. I could feel my a** involuntarily squeezing against him inside of me, and began rocking against him as if from instinct, guiding him to push and stretch and stroke all the places inside me I’d never known about before.

He pushed my knees back to my shoulders and started f****** me slowly and deeply. I tried to grab my c*** and stroke it, but he slapped my hands away. “No,” he said. “You’re gonna c** like a woman.”

His strokes got a bit faster and I noticed when he hit bottom he always flexed his c*** before pulling it almost all the way back out of me. He put a thumb on each side of my taint and massaged as he fucked me and, before long, my d*** began jumping and throbbing. The power of my contractions made him shudder, then I could feel his c*** pulsing and unloading inside of me. I don’t know if I had an o***** from that, but whatever it was felt f****** incredible.

When the time was up, he gestured toward the shower. He bathed me and used his finger to coax his c** out of my a**. I couldn’t help but wish he would f*** me again, right then and there in the shower, but he didn’t.

As I dressed and readied to leave the room, my mind was a hurricane of activity… guilt… shame… disbelief. I walked out to see my wife waiting for me. My masseur stood next to me at the counter as I waited to pay. With his left hand he grabbed my c*** through my pants and whispered in my ear. “Come see me soon,” then he slapped me on the a** and walked away.

My wife was confused. I was confused. Everyone kind of chuckled.

I couldn’t not tell me wife. So I did. I told her the lot of it. Now she fucks me with a d**** every 10 days or so to let me indulge in my little fantasy within the bonds of our marriage. I’m so lucky she forgave me, much less that she used the situation to find more ways to pleasure me.

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I met my friend in August of 2022. We met over a fandom for a YouTuber we both liked, we’d talk, shade headcanons, write, and the like. She was wonderful. She was perfect, so sweet and kind, loving, caring, passionate. Of course I fell in love with her.

Something in my mind at some point, I don’t know where, just seemed to break. I saw her as this absolutely perfect, flawless angel. Someone above me, someone above feeling the ways I do, someone so perfect she couldn’t possibly be upset by me. So I put more and more on my angel. She can’t feel bad, she’s perfect. It’s wrong, but that’s how my mind was working. I still see her as someone so beautiful and amazing.

I professed my love to her. She didn’t want it. But I pushed her on, continually telling her I loved her, over and over again professing my feelings and pretty much BEGGING for her to love me back. She didn’t want it yet I pressed on, spamming her with love declarations at LEAST weekly, hoping that maybe someday she’d change her mind.

But that’s not even the end of it. No, she was either perfect or evil to me. And whatever set me to treating her like my perfect savior angel, it all came crashing back down in reverse. All over YouTube drama. The moment she did something I didn’t perceive as perfect, I snapped. That YouTube channel we both like had been called out for being an abuser and I said it was unacceptable to keep watching and giving exposure to him, she said I should just let people enjoy things. I made an angry post about how everyone who liked that channel was enabling his abuse, got banned from the community, and I was desperate to come back. They were my only friends.

I made an alt account to pretty much stalk my angel, I was jealous and controlling and paranoid over her finding someone better than me and leaving me now that she was upset at me. I joined back in the servers I wasn’t allowed in. I listened in to a call she was in. At the same time, I was messaging her on my main account, pretty much yelling at her about how she’s funding and platforming an abuser. On my alt, I would act all sweet, I knew my relationship with her was already ruined so I thought if I became someone else, someone better, someone ideal, she’d love me.

This was the end for us. She found me out and completely cut me off, then later I was sent a document detailing everything I’ve done and that I abused her, broke her mentally, and made it so she can’t trust anyone anymore.

Reddit . Com / u / Raincandy-Angel

I met my friend in August of 2022. We met over a fandom for a YouTuber we both liked, we’d talk, shade headcanons, write, and the like. She was wonderful. She was perfect, so sweet and kind, loving, caring, passionate.

In February of that same year I got on BC pills and it ruined me mentally. Threw me into the worst depression I’ve ever felt. I’ve never really gotten along with my peers, my parents told me I’d feel better when I’m in college and I just need to find a purpose, my doctor just threw more pills that didn’t even work at me. Only she could save me. I told her everything. Piling up thought after thought onto her, using her like a therapist. Everything felt better when I had her attention and validation, when I was with her, I felt so seen and heard and loved. Basically, I used her for attention and validation. Over. And over. And over. For months. I refused to seek therapy because I was scared a therapist would say nothing is wrong, I’m just too sensitive, or I’m making it up. I was terrified that I’d have official, professional confirmation that I’m just a bad person, a drama queen, and I’m an attention seeker. (And that’s exactly what ended up happening around a year later, a therapist told me I’m normal, so I have no mental issues at play that could’ve caused any of this.)

Around that time I started cutting and I’d always tell her about it, always wanting her sympathy, her pity. She said she didn’t want to hear about it, but I pressed forward anyways. She said she didn’t want to be a therapist, but I continued on. I never knew until later that she struggled with the same things and my actions made her relapse. I could have killed her with my actions. She could have gone too deep or starved too much, I could have killed her. I’m lucky she’s even still alive. She was strong enough to never tell me any of this until nearly a year later meanwhile I told her about every tiny thing that happened to me.

Of course I fell in love with her.

Something in my mind at some point, I don’t know where, just seemed to break. I saw her as this absolutely perfect, flawless angel. Someone above me, someone above feeling the ways I do, someone so perfect she couldn’t possibly be upset by me. So I put more and more on my angel. She can’t feel bad, she’s perfect. It’s wrong, but that’s how my mind was working. I still see her as someone so beautiful and amazing.

I professed my love to her. She didn’t want it. But I pushed her on, continually telling her I loved her, over and over again professing my feelings and pretty much BEGGING for her to love me back. She didn’t want it yet I pressed on, spamming her with love declarations at LEAST weekly, hoping that maybe someday she’d change her mind.

But that’s not even the end of it. No, she was either perfect or evil to me. And whatever set me to treating her like my perfect savior angel, it all came crashing back down in reverse. All over YouTube drama. The moment she did something I didn’t perceive as perfect, I snapped. That YouTube channel we both like had been called out for abuse of people behind the scenes and I said it was unacceptable to keep watching and giving exposure to them, she said I should just let people enjoy things. I made an angry post about how everyone who liked that channel was enabling the abuse, got banned from the community, and I was desperate to come back. They were my only friends.

I made an alt account to pretty much stalk my angel, I was jealous and controlling and paranoid over her finding someone better than me and leaving me now that she was upset at me. I joined back in the servers I wasn’t allowed in. I listened in to a call she was in. At the same time, I was messaging her on my main account, pretty much yelling at her about how she’s funding and platforming an abuser. On my alt, I would act all sweet, I knew my relationship with her was already ruined so I thought if I became someone else, someone better, someone ideal, she’d love me.

This was the end for us. She found me out and completely cut me off, then later I was sent a document detailing everything I’ve done and that I abused her, broke her mentally, and made it so she can’t trust anyone anymore.

Raincandy-Angel