Lizzie Has a Massage

My boss is a young blonde woman, razor sharp and the hardest worker I have ever met. She’s everything I wish I’d been at that point in my career, but I never had the drive, and I’m kidding myself when I daydream “that could be me”. 

Rose is a consultant cardiologist at 35 years old and she has my unending respect and admiration, which she would regardless of how she looked. 

However, Rose is beautiful – stunning, in fact, and has a smoking hot body which she dresses to accentuate. 

Lizzie, my wife, jokingly threatens to kill Rose on a regular basis. 

I think she’s joking.

I was at my desk in my home office – an indulgent oak affair with a green leather insert and ornate moldings – it weighs about 200 Kilos and my laptop was so lost in it’s expanse that I have added some large monitors to fill some space.  

I was on a video call, my team members rendered in small squares around the edge of the screen, Rose filling the rest of the space as she addressed us.

The topic was boring, but I was happy to just sit there staring at my boss, her blonde curls skimming the desk in front of her as she bowed her head to read aloud the document on her desk. This also afforded me, and all the other men on the call, a great view of the rounded tops of her perfect tits as her shirt, the top 3 buttons open against the summer heat, fell open and her black lace bra came into view every time her head dropped. 

I was so engrossed, my cock hard as I daydreamed about slowly unfastening the rest of those buttons and letting the shirt slide off of Rose’s shoulders, that I didn’t hear Lizzie enter the room. 

Standing behind me, Lizzie dropped a hand onto my shoulder. 

“She really is a wonderful looking woman.” 

I looked up at my wife, her eyes fixed on the screen. Fortunately, as always the background of my office was blurred for privacy by the camera, not that it would be that unusual to see a family member hove in and out of view on team meetings these days. 

All that really mattered was that my microphone was muted as Lizzie, who hadn’t checked as far as I could tell, said, “I can see why you want to fuck her – she’d look great riding your cock, Martin.”

I chuckled. I had shared this particular fantasy with my wife, who is an extremely broad-minded woman, and she had immediately encouraged me to go into detail about exactly what I wanted to do with Rose as she masturbated with a small vibrator on the sofa – this being a year or so ago when Rose first joined the team.

Silently, Lizzie dropped to her knees and crawled under my desk. Sitting on her haunches she pushed my legs open and shuffled forward between them, hidden entirely from the view of the camera, she pulled my zip fly open and tugged my hard cock out. 

“My, you really do like her, huh?” Murmured my wife.

Lizzie began to slowly stroke my cock from tip to base, the pre-cum leaking from me already allowed her a little lubrication which she spread over the head of my cock with her thumb, gently pulling my foreskin down to afford her better access. 

I groaned a little, my eyes still fixed on my monitor.

Lizzie’s voice drifted up, her manner distant and dreamy, “When I take you in my mouth, imagine it’s her. When you cum, say her name. Say “Rose” when you cum, I want you to do that for me.”

“You are such a pervert”, I said.

My cock gave a long spasm, then relaxed as I felt the familiar warmth of her lips parting over the wet head to take all of me into her mouth; slowly, slowly starting to move.

Lizzie held my cock at it’s base with one hand, the other she used to reach into my boxers and gently cup my balls, applying pressure so gradually that it was barely noticeable at first.

As my wife gave me head under my desk, her mouth moving faster, her hand cupping my balls more tightly with each passing minute, I could hear her breathing getting louder and I knew that she was turned on. Lizzie loves giving head – the control, the power of giving or denying that feeling to a man.

My hips were pushing involuntarily up from my chair, meeting Lizzie’s lips as they touched my tummy with each stroke, my cock deep in her mouth.

I felt myself begin to cum – Lizzie did too, her hand now squeezing my balls almost painfully tight – almost but not quite. 

She stopped moving entirely, and spoke, her voice muffled by her completely full mouth. I felt saliva and pre-cum run down my cock to my tummy as she relaxed her lips enough to be able to grunt, “say it”, three times in quick succession, the third and last time as close to a shouted demand as she could get.

Losing control, I shouted, rather than said, “Rose… FUCK… ROSE!” as I emptied my balls and sent spurt after spurt of my hot, thick semen into Lizzie’s mouth, my cock in spasm and my balls, tight in her fist, contracting again and again.

As I came I stared at Rose’s tits, hair and face on the monitor, listening to my wife noisily gulp and swallow.

When it was over, and I regained composure, Lizzie, still breathing loud, her face flushed, crawled out from under the desk and stood behind me once more. 

“I’ll be a while”, she said, quietly, as she ran her finger inside my collar, down my neck to my shoulder blades, leaving a warm trail of her cunt fluid on my skin.

“I need to deal with… that..”

Lizzie left the room and I heard her light, fast steps on the stairs as I tried to refocus on my meeting, my slowly drying cock still hanging free between my legs.

Two days later, a treat for my wife. 

Lizzie periodically has a bad back, the result of a childhood injury which, unless regularly maintained by a Chiropractor, can cause muscle spasms and serious pain until it finally eases off.

In recent weeks Lizzie had started to get some light cramping in her back, and for once the chiro visits weren’t completely effective. 

Knowing personally how good a genuine Thai Massage is for a sore back, I had booked a long session for my wife at a spa an hour’s drive away. I had spent time carefully researching the place, making sure that the staff were trained to use genuine Thai practices, as many of those that claim to do not.

The spa was attached to a luxury country hotel, and I’d decided an overnight stay would be an extra treat for us both. 

After we checked in and dropped our bags in the comfortable room, complete with idyllic views of a British country estate and grounds in peak summer, I went with Lizzie as she sauntered down to the spa on the ground floor.

Holding open the polished oak door for Lizzie I glanced down to admire her amazing ass, her powder blue soft track suit following her delicious curves. The spa had advised wearing casual, loose clothing, and I especially approved of Lizzie’s choice – a white sport’s bra being the only thing she wore under her zipped-up matching top.

The spa was just as high-end as the website claimed, and I was pleased when we were shown into the treatment room to see a tasteful blend of modern and traditional furniture and décor. The lighting was subtle and appropriately dimmed and the mood music was meditative with a nod to Asian origins. 

Our attendant, a young woman dressed from head to toe in white, of course, told us that our masseur, Henry, would be along shortly and that Lizzie should undress to her panties and lay face up on the bed, the small towel provided to cover her midriff to the top of her thighs, her small breasts exposed.

I made as if to leave – I had, or so I thought – an appointment at the hotel bar.

“No – stay darling, you can talk to me. I don’t want to talk to a stranger about my holidays and their kids.”

I smiled, “But you’re so fond of small talk.”

Lizzie made a noise and I sat heavily down on a stylish sofa against the wall – very low, but surprisingly comfortable. I told my wife I’d need help getting up.

“Not like you”, she chuckled.

The door opened and in strode Henry. He was perhaps 25 or 26, at least 6ft tall and his white polo shirt and black trousers stretched over an impressively muscular frame, his tanned forearms and biceps betraying a man who worked with his hands for a living. I suppose giving massages must keep you fit.

When henry spoke he somewhat ruined the illusion of a privately-educated rugger player from a family pile in the home counties – he was Essex to the core. 

Smiling wide and showing off his whitened teeth which contrasted starkly with his deep tan, he said hello to us both and then looked critically at Lizzie, prone on the bed, staring in obvious admiration at him.

Henry wanted to know what Lizzie’s problem was. I wanted to tell him that at this exact moment it was probably that she was wet between her legs, but Lizzie shook herself from her reverie, dragged her eyes to Henry’s face and began to explain the history of her back issues.

Henry was clearly used to the level of attention women gave him and he gave no indication that he’d even noticed my wife’s eyes roving over his body when he’d first entered the room, and he spent at least 10 minutes making notes and explaining his training and Accreditations (he’d actually trained for a year in Thailand) before he laid a finger on Lizzie.

“OK, let’s have a look, turn over onto your tummy please, I’ll hold the towel while you turn.”

Henry looked studiously away as he held the towel and Lizzie rotated onto her tummy before placing it over her ass, which made a very pleasing hill in the material as he draped it on her, covering her white lace panties.

Using a warm stone surface to his left, presumably heated artificially in some way, Henry warmed his hands and placed them on my wife’s lower back, talking softly to himself as he seemed to count vertebrae until Lizzie jumped slightly and he stopped.

“There? Feels very tight.” He said.

“Yes – that’s it. Wow. Right there.” said Lizzie, tension in her voice as her back twinged at his probing fingers.

“Soon have that worked out, just relax.”

I was thoroughly enjoying watching. I had assumed Lizzie would be treated by a woman, but the appearance of a very handsome, well built young man, who now had his large hands on my wife’s naked skin had made me very interested, very fast. 

And I was getting hard.

Henry was positioning Lizzie’s limbs, gently moving her into position her used a hand on each bare ankle to open her legs a little – fuck that was hot – and picked her wrists up to drop her arms to her sides, again telling her to relax, which she seemed to be doing as I saw her begin to go limp.

Henry explained that Thai massage treated the whole body from head to toe, but he promised that Lizzie’s back would be better by the time he’d finished.

Face down, Lizzie could only mumble a word or two in reply as Henry, despite our earlier joking, explained that he would be silent unless she asked him something, he wasn’t going to disturb the peaceful atmosphere which his craft required.

At this, Henry had glanced over to me, an eyebrow raised, and I had mimed zipping my lips closed, at which he smiled and returned his attention to my supine wife.

Over the next 30 minutes I listened to my wife moan in satisfaction and release as Henry expertly manipulated her body – starting from her scalp he had worked his way down her neck, shoulders and back, gently stretching her arms, hands and wrists as the tension visibly left her body.

Now Henry was kneeling between Lizzie’s legs, his weight pushing steadily through his flat palms to her lower back, aligning her bones and stretching her muscles. 

Lizzie moaned as his hands moved lower to her buttocks, and I realized with a start that this was a different moan – this was an involuntary noise Lizzie made when she was aroused.

Henry must have noticed, he spent a long time working on Lizzie’s buttocks before moving to her thighs, both hands kneading the top of her right thigh, her legs parted further to accommodate him.

Lizzie was whimpering a little, I could just hear her. Her arms were draped over the sides of the treatment bed now and I saw with mounting excitement that she was grinding her hips a little as Henry moved his oiled hands over her toned thigh. Every now and then Henry would gently hold my wife’s ankle and pull bend her leg at the knee, pointing the sole of her foot at the ceiling. As he did so he would stretch her hip tendons by firmly pushing against her thigh, bracing it with a hand on each side.

Lizzie was trembling as he swapped to her left thigh and began again. 

Suddenly my wife’s back arched and her hands came up to push her shoulders away from the bed a little, her head hanging, hair touching the pillow, as if doing a prolonged press up.

Henry stopped moving, holding her thigh and waiting as she came.

“Oh… Fucking...hell….Jesus…”, stuttered Lizzie, her voice hoarse.

When her orgasm had passed and she collapsed back to the bed, Lizzie apologised, saying she wasn’t sure what came over her – it had happened so fast. 

Henry looked a little sheepish at me but I just smiled back at him, reassuringly.

“I’m sorry, my fault. It happens sometimes.. I think I must have brushed against your, well, you know, against your..” , Said Henry.

“Wet cunt”, I said in my head.

I could see that Henry’s bulging trousers hid an erection almost as big as mine. I wondered how often that happened, too.

“Do it again”, I said, my voice hoarse, “touch her again. Make her cum.”

Lizzie moaned in anticipation as I spoke. Henry stared at me, my wife’s calf and thigh still in his hands.

I held Henry’s gaze. 

After a few seconds Henry placed Lizzie’s leg gently back on the bed, then, his movements suddenly urgent, threw the small towel over his shoulder and, sliding his hand rapidly up her thigh, pulled he panties to one side and pushed 2 fingers into her.

Lizzie shrieked with delight and squirmed, pushing back against his hand with her hips raised from the bed. Not letting up, Henry pushed a third finger into my wife’s cunt and I stood, my hard-on leading me, and walked over to the bed, looking over Henry’s shoulder for a closer view as he knelt between her legs, finger fucking her.

Lizzie came again, her body shaking as she really let go, her cum dripping from her open, swollen cunt to coat the bed and Henry’s hand. 

Henry stood, and, stooping, turned Lizzie onto her back like she weighed nothing. 

Now I could see just how lost in pleasure Lizzie was, she was flushed from her shoulders to her forehead, stroking her own nipples, her eyes opening to stare hungrily at Henry.

Lizzie looked at me, enquiringly.

“Fuck her.”, I said.

Henry did not pretend he hadn’t heard me, or ask if we were sure, or seek confirmation. He pulled a very fair sized cock out of the waistband of his elasticated uniform trousers and sprung easily from the floor to the high bed, kneeling once more between my Wife’s open legs, he bent his back, his attention on his cock as he guided it with his hand into Lizzie’s drenched cunt.

As he slipped easily inside her, Lizzie groaned and draped her arms around his neck, telling Henry to fuck her, her knees bent and her legs splayed as he started to thrust into her.

I was incredibly hard, I never tired of watching Lizzie with another man, and this was special – she was really into this guy.

The most erotic sharing happens when there is real passion between Lizzie and her partner, but it happens very rarely. I could see it now though – Lizzie had her wrists crossed behind Henry’s neck as he fucked her, hard, deep, her hips grinding against him and meeting each thrust.

“Kiss her, Henry.”, I murmured.

Again, no hesitation, no confirmation. Henry dropped his face to Lizzie’s and started kissing my wife as passionately as I ever have. 

Lizzie was going crazy, moaning and whimpering, her hands holding his face, then in his hair, then to feel his cock as it slid in and out of her – wetting her fingers from his shaft and pushing them, dripping, between their joined lips until they were clean of her cum.

I have never see anything so hot – I came on the floor and stayed rock hard, still stroking my cock as I watched, steadying myself against the corner of the bed from my position behind Henry’s bent back.

Lizzie had to break off from kissing Henry to open her mouth to breathe as she came on his cock – the noises she made were animal like, and sweat was covering her cheeks and neck, her nipples hard and erect. Henry took them in his mouth as she came, and then her tongue was seeking his again as her orgasm subsided.

They fucked like this for 4 or 5 minutes before Henry started to breathe raggedly, his thrusts losing their rhythm, he took his mouth from my wife’s and stared down at her. Lizzie knew he was going to cum – she held his face in her hands, staring into his eyes with a look of pure ecstasy.

As his orgasm approached, Henry braced himself against the bed, his palms flat on the surface either side of Lizzie, and began to push himself up, meaning to withdraw.

Lizzie held his forearms, “No no no no – stay inside me, cum inside me..” she pleaded.

Henry glanced over his shoulder at me and I answered his unspoken question by gently taking each of my wife’s ankles and pulling them firmly to me before wrapping Lizzie’s legs around his back. Lizzie crossed her ankles and pulled him deep into her. 

Henry was staring into my wife’s eyes as he came inside her, and he came for a long time. He was quiet, but he trembled and his arms nearly gave way, his whole body rigid as he pumped his cum into Lizzie’s cunt.

I waited patiently, wordlessly, cock in hand, as Lizzie and Henry kissed gently and he finally pulled his softening cock out of her and stood. I took his place immediately and, pushing my cock into the wet, open, slack and used cunt of my wife, began to fuck her.

Lizzie and I kissed even more passionately then she had with Henry, and I felt her cunt begin to tighten on my cock as she came again. 

Henry watched on, spent, as I turned my wife over, and, reaching down to part her ass cheeks, slid my cock easily and smoothly into her ass – lubricated by the stream of her cum which had been running from her cunt for the last 20 minutes.

I could only last for another couple of minutes and as soon as I felt Lizzie cum again, her ass squeezing hard on my cock as it contracted – I emptied myself inside her.

I was the first to leave the room, using a towel to wipe myself down I went back to our room and lay, dozing, on the bed. 

When Lizzie arrived she was fragrant, wet hair fresh from the shower. 

Lizzie dropped onto the bed next to me and we stared at each other in silence for some minutes.

“That was good.”, understated my wife, smiling, her fingertips on my lips.

“That was very good.”, I smiled back.