Massage

 I knew she was nervous, getting a massage from a man, but I assured her I'd be there, watching, making sure everything was okay. "They use a towel," I told her, knowing she was nervous about being naked. "We're on vacation," I said, "try new things."

"We were supposed to have a woman," she said."

"Vacation, Ashley, I'll be there, it's fine."

She finally agreed. "I guess you're right, vacation," she said, "why not."

To his credit, the masseuse was professional, handing Ashley a towel as soon as we got there. "I'm sure you're nervous," he said, "don't be. Undress, cover your bottom with this, you'll relax and your nerves will go away as you enjoy the massage.

Ashley took the towel from him, chuckled. "Is it that obvious?" she asked.

"I've been doing this for ten years," he said, "don't worry, just relax."

He left us and Ashley undressed. She removed her dress but left her panties on, and got on the table. "Cover me good," she said, nodding to the towel.

I did as she asked and called him back. True to his word, he started with oil on her back and was completely professional, relaxing her and me.

He was careful with his strokes, approaching, but taking care to avoid her breasts.

Moving to her legs, he said she'd noted she'd tweaked her hamstring recently and asked if he could fold the towel up slightly, uncover her more, so he could work her lower and upper legs. 

"More?" she asked.

"You'll still be covered," he assured her.

"Hon?" she asked me.

"As long as you're covered," I said, "it's fine."

He nodded, folded her towel slightly, uncovering her thighs, worked on her legs.

He spent a good ten minutes on each leg, watching her reactions carefully, listening to her. Watching myself, I felt myself get aroused, realized it was erotic watching another man massage Ashley.

As he moved up her left thigh, he asked me to hand him another bottle of oil from a cabinet the end of the table. "Sorry, I didn't realize I was almost out; hands are too messy to touch the cabinet."

"Sure," I said, standing, walking behind him. "This one?" 

He glanced back. "Yea."

I opened the cabinet, got a bottle of coconut oil, handed it towards him. It was then I saw what he saw; while he'd been checking Ashley's reactions, he'd also had a clear view of her panties under the towel.

"Oh, god," Ashley gasped as he worked on the back of her tight.

"What?" I said, too quickly.

"That the spot?" he asked her, doing a deep massage on her thigh.

"Yea...you really do know what you're doing."

"Ten years," he laughed. "You trust me now?"

"Yea," Ashley said.

"Good. This muscle works its way up through the glutes. To release the tension, I really need to work up through the top of the muscle, which is hard to do with a towel and panties. If I'm hitting the spot, is it okay if you remove your panties and we have your husband hold them and the towel for a few minutes while I hit that spot? It's on the outside of the glute, once we're done he'll cover you up again."

Ashley looked at me. "I mean, that's really hitting the spot. I don't know about naked, though. Hon?"

"Is it releasing the muscle?"

"Oh, yea," she said.

"It's up to you two," he told us.

"I suppose it's fine," I said, "I mean, I'm right here."

"I suppose." Ashley pulled her panties down, handed me the towel and the panties, arranged herself on the table. She said nothing about it, and I didn't want to stare, but I could swear her panties were damp.

I turned to look at her; my eyes were wide staring at her perfect ass, her pussy lips. He paid no attention to me, started working just where he said he was, treating her ass no different than he had her leg or back. "Getting it?" he asked her.

"God, yes," Ashley said, "it hurts but it feels good."

"Here, move your left knee up so your knee is pointed at me," he said, "that will put the muscle in tension and release everything."

Ashley did as he said and staring at her from the end of the table, I wasn't sure if she realized how exposed her pussy was. He worked his hand around her inner thigh, using the other to press down on her ass. Like working on her back, each time he moved around her thigh, his fingers got closer to but didn't quite touch her exposed pussy lips, and with each movement, Ashley was breathing heavier. 

"Good?" he asked.

"Amazing," Ashley said, breath shallow. I was staring at her face when she gasped. "Ohhhh," she said softly.

I looked down, swore he'd brushed against her pussy lips once, twice, three times. I wanted to say something, but no words came out as I felt myself harden in my pants, felt a full erection watching his fingers lightly brush my wife's pussy.

"Turn over, if you would," he said to my wife, "I need to move to the front of the thigh muscle."

Ashley flipped over. I started to hand the towel to him, but he ignored me, was too concentrated on her thigh.

"A...Ash," I mumbled.

"Hmmmm," she moaned softly, absentminded, like I wasn't there.

I watched his hands, they moved up her thigh and lightly brushed her lips with every pass. I wanted to say something, but couldn't, I just watched him lightly teasing my wife's pussy lips, watched him touch the hood of her lips.

I was about to say her name, but her moan stopped me. "Mmmmmm," she said as he rubbed her clit with his left hand, moved his right so his fingers slipped into her, "oh my god."

He moved to her side, I saw her arm brush against him, saw her gasp, looked, realized he was erect, was as hard as I was, harder.

He had his left hand on her breast, was rubbing it with oil, his right hand was working her pussy. Ashley touched the front of his pants, then as I watched, stunned, reached in and pulled his cock out.

"Good girl," he said, moving upwards, lowering his pants as he did.

My wife, eyes closed, pulled his cock to her lips, took the head in her mouth. I watched intently, rock hard as she sucked his cock.

"We didn't work your right quad," he said, pulling his cock from her mouth to her soft, disappointed groan. "Turn back over and pull your right knee up."

He moved behind her pushed her knee up. "Let's stretch it out," he said, pushing her leg with his, entering her as he did.

"Oh, god," Ashley moaned.

"Did I find the spot?" he grunted as he started thrusting.

"Yea," she moaned, "yea, there, right there."

Ignoring me, my looks, my soft moans, he pulled her up onto her hands and knees, took her hips, and started fucking her.

"Oh, god," I moaned softly.

"Oh, fuck," Ashley moaned loudly, eyes closed.

He pushed her onto her side, grabbed one of her breasts with one hand, stroked her pussy with the other as he fucked her.

I started stroking myself as he fucked her, lightly, terrified to make a mess in my pants. "God, yes, god, yes," my wife moaned, pushing back to meet his thrusts. He pushed her down onto the table, was on his own hands and knees, mounted her from on top and behind. She was shaking, obviously having orgasm after orgasm.

He straddled my wife, spread her open, pushed in and out, slipped a thumb in her ass, making her moan loudly, shake uncontrollably. 

It was obvious by his grunts he was close; I whispered, pull out, pull out, but he didn't hear me or ignored me. Ashley heard me, though, looked over her shoulder at him. "Don't you dare stop," she panted, "don't you dare pull out."

"Never, slut," he grunted in some animalistic cry as he thrust into her, held himself steady, obviously filling her with his cum. I could see his cock pulsating, each one a blast of cum into my wife's pussy, each one claiming her, filling her, soiling her, taking her, marking her.

When I thought he was done, he chuckled, took his cock in his hand, and started to pull himself from her.

But he wasn't done, he stroked himself once, twice, three times, each time shooting a rope of cum across my wife's ass to match what was already leaking from her pussy and what had collected on the head of his cock. 

Finally, he dismounted, grabbed his shirt, pulled it on. Looking down, he saw his cock was covered with her juices and his cum so he walked to the side of the table, pulled Ashley onto her back, and put the head of his cock on her lips. My wife, who always protested she didn't like the taste of my cum or her own pussy, said nothing, but took him in her mouth and cleaned him as throughly as a lioness licking her cub clean, kissing his cock, licking it, sucking it, while he toyed with her breasts, her erect nipples.

When she finished, she lay there, legs spread. I was at the foot of the table, staring at her, staring at the cum dripping from her, the cum on her thighs, on her ass. Licking her lips, Ashley lifted her head, looked down at me. "Don't leave me a mess," she said, motioning me with a finder, an erotic look on her face.

"Ashley," I moaned, understanding what she was saying.

"I'll leave you two," he said, pulling his pants on.

"Go on," she looked at me.

"Ashley, please..."

She reached between her legs, scooped some cum off her thigh with her fingers, motioned me again. "Come the mess," she said.

I moved to her like she had a gravitational pull, knelt down, closed my eyes, sucked her fingers first, licked her thighs, kissed and licked her pussy. The taste was strong, cum mixed with pussy juice, and I cleaned all of it, all of it.

When I was done I moved to fuck her, but she stopped me. "No," she said, "not after him." She stood, pulled on her panties, held out her dress. Before stepping into it she down, almost shy.

"That felt great on my leg, you should see if they have an opening tomorrow," she said.

"Ash..."

She looked at my erection, touched it gently, making me jump, gasp. "In fact, every day while we're on vacation."

"Oh, god," I moaned.

"Make sure we get him each time," she said, almost shy, "he knows exactly where to touch me."

"Ash, I...this was just supposed to be...I mean..."

"You didn't stop him, love," she said, "and judging my that little erection, you were just as turned on as I was."