I am a raging heterosexual. Or should I say, I thought I was. I have been a walking bundle of hormones looking to fuck women all my life. And I have been pretty successful at it. I have been married for the past 20 years to a woman that is hot and pretty open minded, letting me express most of my kinks. She isn't one of the wive's that views sex as an obligation and more often than not, the one initiating the action.
But I won't lie, I have had some side action on and off again for most of my marriage. Not that I am unhappy, but I am just the kind of guy that can't get enough pussy. Or if I am lucky, ass.
My wife, Jenna, is your typical athletic 50 year old woman. She is 5' 9" with dark hair that is usually pulled back in a ponytail. She has a lean runner's body with an age-defying tight ass (on my birthday and Christmas she will generously give me her perfect ass as a treat). For her 40th birthday she gave herself a boob job and entered her 40s with a perfect 36C rack. Most of our teenage friends hang out at our house way too often, since Jenna is a certifiable MILF.
But isn't just the kids that like her, my golf buddies are always pushing things a little too far with their comments on what they would do with her if they were married to her. Usually it starts as an offhand comment, but then it progresses into them getting a little too graphic with their fantasies.
Having the hottest wife in your social circle is both a blessing and a curse.
I also have a pretty athletic body, but due to a knee injury, I am not quite as fit as my wife. But I am still better than most 55 year olds! I am 6' 1" with a 5-pack and weigh 175 pounds. While I know I am lucky to have a wife like Jenna, my ease of getting some pussy on the side reassures me that I still have it.
All in all, I have it pretty good.
A few weeks ago my wife decided she was going to book us a spa day at a local 5 star resort. She thought it would be fun to get a massage, facial, manicure, and pedicure. I reluctantly agreed, but can't deny the thought of a young hot woman rubbing my body wasn't a terrible idea. But the rest of it, I could do without.
I told my wife to save the money and just get me the massage. I would hang out at the pool and watch a game while she got pampered on. With an approving nod, she picked up the phone and called the spa.
A few minutes later she came into the den and told me we were all set for the next weekend. She booked herself a 60 minute Swedish massage and a 90 minute deep tissue massage for me. She had Tonya and I had Teri. I quietly was hoping that Teri was the hotter of the two.
The week came and went and I didn't give our spa day a second thought. I was more excited for my golf game on Sunday. I had been hitting the driving range on the way from work and was really stripping the ball. I was going to clean up on my hack buddies.
When we arrived at the spa Jenna was led to the left which was the women's side and I was herded to the right. I was given a locker and told to remove as much clothes and I was comfortable and to wait for Teri in the men's lounge. There was an ultra luxurious robe waiting for me in my locker. I quickly stripped naked and slid into the robe. I told myself just in case there was a chance for a happy ending, I was going to be prepared.
As I laid back in the leather recliner, I looked around the lounge. There were a couple of other guys donning their robes. Some had that disheveled look of contentment that signaled they had had their massage. Others were just chilling waiting to be called back for their massage. Based on the price of the spa, most of the guys were in their mid 40s and above. They all seemed pretty fit so I was wondering if any of them were going to get a special massage like I was certainly going to.
A few moments later my name was called by Teri. Unfortunately Teri wasn't a Teri, but rather a Terry. This Terry appeared to be in his 30s, rugged Nordic looks, and a body that indicated he may have been an Olymian at one point or another.
I had a moment of panic, wondering how I could flee. I was not wanting this Thor look alike to be rubbing my naked body for the next 90 minutes. But the massage was paid for and with an inaudible sigh, I raised my hand and said "Right here".
Terry led me back to my room and instructed me to remove my robe and get under the sheet laid across the massage table. As he closed the door behind him, I had one last thought of escaping. Maybe telling him I ate some bad Chipotle and wasn't up for a massage.
But my frugality won out and I hung my robe on the back of the door and slide under the sheet face down naked. A few moments later Terry returned and reminded me I signed up for a deep tissue massage. I mumbled an affirmative and as I heard him oil his hands, every muscle in my body contracted with fear.
I had never had a man's hands caress my body. I was Gen X so I certainly didn't have a dad that expressed affection. Hell, he barely acknowledged my existence, much less gave me a hug. A moment later, his well lubricated hands started gliding over my tense body.
Within minutes all of my hesitation melted away in his strong hands. I quickly felt myself relax almost to the point of putty. His hands were magical. Any reluctance I had was now gone and I floated in and out of consciousness in pure relaxing bliss.
After a half hour of massaging my back, Terry covered me with the sheet and worked his way down to my legs. He carefully extracted one leg and tucked the sheet under me to ensure there was no chance of any surprise appearance of my cock.
As he massaged my calves his hands were no less wonderful on my legs as they were on my back. He slowly and deliberately worked his way up my leg until he was kneading my hamstring. As an ex runner, my hamstrings were wound tighter than a piano string.
I could feel Terry's muscles activating as he worked his strong fingers deep in my hamstrings. After a few moments, he commented on how tight my hamstrings were and asked if I was comfortable with him massaging the top of my legs and my lower glutes.
I knew glutes meant ass, but at this point, I was in nirvana and and homophobia I had a half hour ago was long gone. I simply grunted a "yes".
With that Terry proceeded to reposition the sheet, this time pulling it back so the lower half of my glute was now exposed. I didn't feel vulnerable at all as he started working into the flesh of my ass. It felt so good that I found myself letting out small moans of satisfaction.
They weren't sexual, but they were certainly sounds of pleasure. After five minutes he carefully pulled the sheet back to cover my leg and went to the other side and started the same treatment on my other leg.
This time he didn't ask as he hoisted the sheet high, exposing most of my ass. His hands dig in and started to do their magic. As they got higher my soft moans of pleasure became less discreet. With each squeeze of his strong hands on my ass cheek I let out a deep moan. I became aware of what I was doing, but I had long since lost control. I just felt too intensely good to care.
What seemed like a brief moment, but had to be ten minutes, Terry once again, pulled the covers back over my legs. As he instructed me to flip over, he asked if the pressure was ok. I tried to make a joke, but at this point, my command of the English language was pretty much lost. I stammered, "Your hands make me good".
With a chuckle, Terry pulled the sheet down my chest and tucked it in just above my pubic bone. He started working across my chest from side to side. Soon I became aware that as he leaned over me, his cock was brushing against my hand. I instantly became aware of the contact. My mind started racing. Was he aware? Was it intentional or just accidental contact?
As my focus became fixated on the brushing of his cock against my hand I began to concentrate on it. I could feel his big mushroom crown, so I knew he was circumcised. With each lean i was able to feel the length of his cock and quickly determined that his thick muscled body extended to his cock. I am comfortable with my 7 inches but I could tell he was at least that and THICK.
The last thing I could tell before he finished my chest massage was that he was definitely not wearing any underwear.
As Terry pulled the sheet to cover my chest.
