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| Adult stories main page > Deni > Story 06 |
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My dear sweet Wife, When you first asked me, my reaction was to go hunting with Tom. Load up the motorhome with beer and junk food and just get out of Dodge! Then I started fantasizing about maybe going to the beach, walking on the dunes and just be alone. Peace and quiet, sea breezes, sea gulls, that kind of thing. Maybe read a book. I decided that isn’t fair to you. Besides, I might get depressed and shoot myself. Just kidding! Kidding about shooting myself, not about it not being fair to you. BUT! That is what got me thinking about this. SO….Sweetheart, I want you to go into the kitchen, pour a glass of you wine, sit down, drink it as you watch your soap opera, and relax a bit before you read the rest of this letter. AH AH AHHHHHH! Go get the wine, sit down, drink it, watch your soap so you’re not distracted, then read the letter. HONEY! Damn it, get the wine! OK, thanks baby. I love you so much. I want you to know that. I love you more than my own life baby. I am writing this to you rather than just telling you, because I know that you are going to have to re-read this letter a number of times. Not because it is difficult to understand, but because it is going to be difficult for you to do. I am, I recognize, asking you to do something that is not your normal nature. So, I have a place for you to sign this and kind of make it a formal agreement between the parties so to speak, sorry about the lawyer talk, but I really want this. As I sit here typing, I find myself with teary eyes as I think about you giving me this. It really means that much to me baby. OK, enough dramatics. Here it is. I want you to just sit or lie on the couch all day. AND, ….. And, never say the word ‘NO’ all day (All Calendar Day, so 24 hours). I want you to let me kiss you, massage you, feed you, caress you, pamper you, talk to you, etc., all day long, and all night long. I know how hard this will be for you. I know you’re going to feel like ‘Oh god, I have to do the ironing,’ or, ‘My god, I better start diner, it is getting late.’ So when you feel like you have to jump up, just pull this little innocuous letter to your attention and relax again. I want this baby. I really want this. I know how hard the ‘not saying no’ will be for you, so in typical lawyerly fashion lets follow Bill Clinton’s lead on this and redefine, FOR JUST ONE DAY, the word ‘No’ to mean ‘Emphatically YES!’ OK? So even if you slip up and react and say ‘NO!’, I can interpret your ‘No’ as ‘YES’ OK? Please baby, indulge me on my Big Four OH! So once again, you will agree, as a birthday gift to me, to stay on the couch all day long and let me pamper you, feed you, meet all of your needs (You are of course free to use "the facilities"). Please let me do this for you. And you will never say ‘No’ to me until after midnight tomorrow night. BUT! IF you say no, just out of habit or whatever, I can still interpret your ‘No’ as ‘Yes.’ Please sign below for your acceptance of my terms and conditions (oh sorry, more stuffy lawyer talk! Cut it out you stuffy OLD lawyer!) I love you baby, and I am so excited about this. Thank you in advance for giving this to me. Your kind sweet, loving, handsome, virile, giving, sexy, smart, rich, sexy, oops already said that, husband Jay Well, I signed his lawyerly agreement, I mean how could that deal go wrong? Get pampered and massaged and fed and just have to sit around? Girl would have to be stupid not to go for that! So, here it is Saturday morning, his 40th Birthday. He was up before I woke up, and I can already smell the coffee. Mmmmm, is that bacon and eggs? This is so great! His birthday, I get the present! Here he comes, tray full of food. Wow! Look, flowers too! Roses no less! A dozen! God how much better can this get? I barely finished my breakfast and the door bell rang. Masseuse! She unfolded her table right in my bedroom, and I got on the table without even having to get dressed first. This is the life! Her hands were divine, massaging me in all my achy places and before long I was just floating on a cloud of bliss. Her hands had started on my shoulders and neck, then worked her way sensuously down my spine, not even stopping when they reached my hips. Her strong hands worked the muscles of my bottom and even worked between my legs on my thighs. Her hands continually brushed my sex as she worked on the tightness in my thighs. I felt a little uncomfortable with it at first, but she seemed not to be noticing it, so I shrugged it off and relaxed. Soon I realized that it actually felt very good as her smooth well oiled hands slid across my delicate flesh. She massaged on down my legs, worked for a long time on my feet, then worked her way back up toward my womanly pleasure center again. This time, I realized in surprise, I was anticipating the wonderful sensations of her hands so close to me. I had never had a woman’s hands so close to my private parts before. I barely touch myself there, let alone let another woman touch me. But something about her air of professionalism gave me a sense of comfort and confidence in her. As she worked her way back up my body, I noticed she was rolling my muscles, rather than kneading them. She had one hand on one leg and the other hand on the other leg as she worked her way back up. The closer she got to my private parts, the more the motion increased until when she was just below my buttocks, her hands were moving vertically to such an extent that it moved my sex lips up and down against each other. I found myself becoming aroused. I blushed furiously, but embarrassed, I said nothing. She worked there for quite some time, and I found myself becoming moist beyond belief. Her wonderful hands finally passed onto my buttocks and she again massaged there in a manner that made my lips move against each other. I must have moaned as I was trying so hard to quell my need to orgasm. She moved on immediately, again moving up my spine and onto my shoulders and neck. "God this is heavenly!" was all I could think of. "Please roll over ma’am." Her voice was soft, throaty, sexy. Was that a southern accent? "God, what am I thinking!" I tried to slow my rise to pleasure, but I was loosing the battle. I began to fear the embarrassment of an orgasm as I lay there. Cumming as she watched me. Her hands again started at my neck. She worked her way down each arm until she arrived at my hands, then gave each digit its own little mini massage. She lavished her talents on my hands, my palms, my wrists. Then back up my arm and repeated her ministrations on my other arm. Her hands under my breasts woke me back up with a start. She began to massage the pectoral muscles under my breast tissue. To do so, she put one hand on my breast, holding it to first one side then the other as she massaged my musculature. The hand on my breast circled and circled as my nipples sprang to attention. Her hand held them so gently yet so firmly. Her hand began to circle, caressing my breast in an erotic motion as she massaged the tissue under. My whole body was thrilling to her touches now. I feared that if she touched me like that down below, I would lose control and embarrass myself horribly. By the time she finished massaging my breasts, I was trembling in my need. I have never been to this point of excitement before in my whole life, to need sexual fulfillment had never been a particular problem of mine. Sex was something I could take or leave. I reminded myself of that fact over and over until finally her hands moved from my tightening breasts and incredibly stiff and aching nipples. I breathed easier as her hands worked on my stomach and sides. That respite was short lived however as her hands moved on down and began to work on my lower abdomen. Soon her magical hands were again stretching the tissues around my sex. I blushed furiously as I heard my own squishing moist sounds as she moved the skin about down there, so near my desperately growing need. I began to gasp, needing air that seemed not to be able to enter my lungs. I closed my eyes tightly so that I could concentrate on holding my orgasm within my body. She must have seen my efforts, because she moved on down my thighs, massaging and working my muscles. My breathing slowed and again I was able to relax slightly. But all I could visualize was her hands moving back up my legs to my thighs, my sex. I wondered if she would push me to that point that I would experience an orgasm under her care. I began to hope she would. What was happening to me, how had I arrived at this point of depravity? Oh goddddddd, her hands were ‘there’ again and they were moving vertically again like before, oh GODDDDDDDDDDDDDD SO sensuous! Oh my god, I was so close. I swear her finger just touched my tiny clitoris between my lips! I jumped and almost screamed in my need. Oh thank god! She is moving on. Then her
hands arrived at my breasts again and they massaged them so sensuously.
OOHHHH GODDDDDD! Her fingers pulled lightly at my nipples, again causing
them to rise and stiffen in their tiny need. I looked down and watched
her long fingers and delicate hands move their rigid flesh about as she
smiled at me softly, watching my eyes watch her hands skillfully arouse
me. My eyes moved to hers and just as I was about to surrender to her,
she removed her hands from my body and stepped back, holding a towel out
for me, helping my gasping body to the bath. Helping me slip under the
bubbles that had appeared in my bath as if by magic. ";Hi Babe! How was the massage?"; Oh god, can I tell him how great it was? Can I tell him that I almost came with a woman massaging me? No! For gods sake, no way! My husband would never understand! So finally I hear my own voice squeaking ";It was great sweetie. Thank you. She is a great masseuse isnt she? You should have had her do you too!"; Oh god, what did I just say? My husband gave me a grin that made me wonder if he knew all about what had transpired";They will be back this afternoon. Are you up for another one?"; What did he mean by another one? Maybe he HAD talked to her. It had taken me 20 minutes in the Jacuzzi to finally get myself back under control after her magical hands. Then I heard what Jay had said. ";They are coming back!"; What did he mean by they?What do I say to keep this conversation going? So I blurted out ";Oh great honey! Always up for being done. Massages are wonderful. Ummmmm ah, .. is the same masseuse coming back?"; ";Yea babe, her and her partner. They often work together. They feel that more than one set of hands can allow you to relax more readily than a single pair."; Oh GOD! I could barely maintain with one just set or hands working on me, what will two sets do? ";Are you going to get a massage too honey"; I asked hopefully. ";Maybe baby."; That Im a poet and dont know it grin of his.";Have to see how it goes. I hope to. Depends on whether they feel like they need to both be working on you the whole time."; Maybe if I encourage him a lot, he will take one of them off of me";Honey, this is your birthday sweetheart, I think you should get the massage this afternoon."; ";Sweetheart, this day is all about you honey! All about you. Remember our little lawyerly contract.."; About then three people walked into my dining room with food, dishes, silverware, crystal, place mats, wine. I could tell without even inspecting the bottle that it was my favorite Italian wine too. They silently set the table as we talked. Soon one of them walked in and bowed before me and announced, ";Dinner is served maam."; In the center of each plate was a huge perfectly ripened chocolate covered strawberry. On both sides of the strawberry were faultless chocolate truffles. Good lord! I wondered whether I had died and gone to heaven, or was my husband just trying to have me so mushy by this evening that I would beg him to have his way with meHe was really pouring it on! ";Honey, there will be four courses, so, .. just warning you babe.";The first course was very small sautˇed chicken bits, in a bed of pasta, with my favorite lemon buttery sauce, perfectly done. The main course was Chicken Scarpariellowonderfully done. Then they served us salad, fresh, crisp, with an Italianate Balsamic Vinegar with a hint of mustard. Clearly my husband was mimicking the meals we had had on our honeymoon in the Tuscan Valley of Italy. The Lemon Ice dessert finished the mealperfectly. Not too harsh, not heavy, and very satisfying. We retired to the parlor where my husband turned on the television and started my favorite soap opera. It was sweeps this last week. True to sweeps week, there were more breasts and male bulges than I had ever noticed before. Or perhaps I just noticed them more in my aroused state. My loins were stirring with a fiery warmth by the time the masseuse returned. I heard my husband let them in and guide them outside to the patio next to the hot tub. I thought I heard a male voice that was not my husbands. ";They are ready for us honey. Put on your summer robe baby, OK? They want us naked when they do us this time."; Naked? I was naked before, for gods sake! I had a queasy fallingsensation about this. But remembering my ";cant say no"; contract I had signed with my lawyer husband re-confirmed in my mind that I really had no choice. Besides, what harm was there in being naked in my own house I rationalized in a vain attempt at self validation Looking back, I was clearly trying to convince myself that I could handle all this. Then I remembered just how close I had come to loosing my prim and proper self control this morning at her hypnotic touch. I stepped into the sunshine of the porch and walked slowly to the masseuses bed. Just as I lowered my robe and set it beside the bed, I realize that the second person was a masseur, not a masseuse. A very Italian looking masculine hunk with a huge bulge in his hidenothingatallnotevenhispubichair-orcock-veinsSpeedo. And he was walking straight toward me, already oiling his hands, his gorgeous Italian eyes already caressing and silently complimenting my naked body. I swear he was already starting to erect.
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Part
2 The Morning Massage
