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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.