My wife booked us a couples massage for our anniversary. I said no twice but she booked it anyway
The place was a home studio in a converted garage. One room, two tables side by side, dim lamps, and that oil smell that gets into your nose and stays there all night. The woman who ran it was named Camille. Late twenties, dark hair pulled back, no makeup, forearms like she moved furniture for a living.
“You must be the husband” she said
“Thats me” I said
My wife went first. Camille worked her shoulders and her back and my wife made those low happy noises people make on a table. I lay on my own table on my stomach and stared at the floor and counted the minutes.
Then my wife went quiet. Then she was asleep. Face down, one arm hanging off the edge of the table, breathing slow and even.
My wife sleeps like a rock. Two glasses of wine with dinner and she is gone for the whole night. That is the only reason any of this happened.
“You’re up” Camille said.
She pulled the sheet up to my waist and started on my back.
She was good. Better than good. She found a knot under my shoulder blade in about ten seconds and went after it with her elbow and I heard myself make a noise I did not plan to make.
“You are tight as hell right here” she said.
“Every masseuse says that” I said.
“They’re right” she said.
Her hands moved down. Oil, heat, pressure. She worked my lower back and then the top of my glutes and then back up. My hips shifted on the table and that was when I realized I was hard. Fully hard, pressed into the table, with my wife asleep two feet away.
I tried to think about work. I tried to think about the electric bill. Nothing worked.
Camille didn’t say anything. Her hands kept moving, slow and steady, right at the edge of the sheet. Every time she got close to the top of my thighs my whole body went tight and she had to feel it because her hands were on me.
“You are holding a lot of tension right here” she said.
“I know” I said.
She pressed her palm flat on my lower back and leaned into it. That knot again, the deep one, right next to my spine. It was not loosening up. I wanted her to use more pressure and I did not know how to ask for it, so I did the stupidest thing a man can do on a massage table.
I made a fist.
I reached back and put my fist on my own lower back and rolled it up and down a couple of inches, the way a guy does when he is showing someone where the pain is. Up and down. Twice. Right where I wanted her to dig in.
Then I put my hand back under the sheet.
Camille went still.
Not the good kind of still. Dead still. Her hands stopped on my hips and did not move and for three full seconds the only sound in the room was the little machine playing whale noises in the corner.
Then I understood what I had just done.
I turned my head on the table and looked up at her. She was looking at my hand. Then at my face. Then, slow, she looked over at the other table, at my wife, asleep, face down, one arm hanging off the edge.
Neither of us said anything.
She looked back at me. Her hands were still on my hips and I could feel every finger. I opened my mouth to say something and nothing came out and she watched me not say it
Then she looked at my wife one more time. Long. Then she looked at me and her jaw went tight like she was making a decision about something and I watched her make it.
She tapped my hip twice. “Turn over” as if she doesn’t want to be heard
I didnt ask her why. I turned over under the sheet and lay on my back and she pulled the sheet up and folded it down over my hips so it covered everything except me. My cock was standing straight up in the middle of it and there was no hiding it and we both looked at it and neither of us said anything.
I could see my wife now. Across from me, face down, one arm hanging off the edge of her table, dead asleep. Two feet away.
I could have stopped it right there. I want to be honest about that. I could have said no and she would have stopped and we would have finished the massage and gone home and that would have been the end of it.
I didn’t say no. Not really sure why
She put her hand on my stomach first. Flat, warm, oiled. Then she moved it down slow and her fingers closed around my cock.
Her palm was slick and hot and her fingers wrapped the whole way around me and squeezed once, just once, at the base, and my whole body jerked off the table like she had hit a switch. I had been hard for minutes and nobody had touched it and now her hand was on me and it was the best thing I had ever felt in my life.
She started slow. Long pulls from the base to the head, her grip tight enough that I could feel every inch of her fingers, with a little twist at the top and her thumb dragging over the head on the way down. It was so wet and so smooth that I could hear it. I could hear her hand on me in that quiet room and I wanted to die.
She knew exactly what she was doing. She did not speed up when I wanted her to. She kept the same slow pull over and over and every time her thumb hit the head my legs jumped.
I put my arm over my face and bit down on my own forearm. My hips started moving on their own, pushing my cock up into her hand, and she let me. She just kept the same rhythm and let me fuck her fist.
Two feet away my wife lay on her table, asleep, breathing slow and even, one arm hanging off the edge.
“be quiet” Camille said. She said it low, right next to my ear.
“I know” I said into my arm.
She went faster after that. Her other hand stayed flat on my stomach, holding me down, and she pressed hard while she worked my cock with the other one.
She got me right to the edge and then slowed down. Then she took me back up again. Then slowed down again. Three times. By the third one my eyes were watering and my thighs were shaking and I had both hands full of the sheet.
“Please” I said.
“Please what” she said.
I couldn’t say it. I just pushed my hips up into her hand again and she went fast.
I came on her hand. Hard. My whole body curled up off the table and my mouth opened and nothing came out because I was holding it in so hard and I had to bite down on my own arm to keep the sound down. She kept stroking my cock through it, slow, until my legs were shaking so bad I had to push my hips down into the table to make her stop.
I lay there with my eyes closed and my heart going and my ears ringing.
I thought that was it. I thought she would clean her hands and put the sheet back and we would be done and I would get dressed and that would be that.
Then I heard her move.
She stepped around to the head of the table and stood behind the top of my head. Then she bent over me, all the way over, and her body came down on top of mine. Her body was right over my face
I put my hand over my own mouth. Her mouth was hot and wet and she went down slow, all the way, until her lips were at the base and her nose was pressed into my skin. Then she pulled back up just as slow, dragging her tongue flat along the underside the whole way, and I felt it in my toess
She did that over and over. All the way down, all the way up. Her hand followed her mouth and her tongue did something at the head every time she came back up and I could not keep my hips still. I put my hand on the back of her head and she did not stop. She moaned a little with her mouth full and the vibration went right through me.
I was still sensitive from the first one. Every pass of her tongue was almost too much and she knew it and she kept going anyway.
“Again” I said. I didnt mean to say it out loud.
She went faster. Her mouth working me hard and sloppy and I could hear it, wet and loud, right there in that little room with my wife asleep two feet away. Spit ran down her chin onto me and she did not care.
It built fast the second time. Faster than the first. My legs went stiff and my back came off the table and I grabbed the edge of it with one hand.
“Im gonna cum” I said.
She didn’t pull off. She went all the way down and stayed there with her nose pressed into me and her throat working around me and I came in her mouth.
I came and came and she swallowed every drop of it. I could feel her throat move on me the whole time. She did not lift her head until I was done and then she pulled back slow and wiped her mouth with the back of her wrist.
Nobody said anything for a while. I lay there with my eyes closed and my heart going and the oil drying on my skin.
Camille folded the sheet back up over me and went to the sink and ran the water like nothing had happened.
My wife was still asleep. She didnt move the whole time. She doesnt know.
I sat up when I could and got dressed. My legs were not right and I had to sit back down once. My hands were shaking on the buttons.
Camille didnt look at me again. Not once
My wife woke up on her own and stretched and told Camille her back had never felt better. Camille walked us to the door and my wife paid her there, cash, and talked the whole time about how we should do this every year.
In the car I couldnt think of anything to say. My wife drove. She put her hand on my knee the whole way home and told me she was gonna book us again in the summer and I said okay.
She doesnt know. Doesn’t have toMy wife booked us a couples massage for our anniversary. I said no twice but she booked it anyway
The place was a home studio in a converted garage. One room, two tables side by side, dim lamps, and that oil smell that gets into your nose and stays there all night. The woman who ran it was named Camille. Late twenties, dark hair pulled back, no makeup, forearms like she moved furniture for a living.
“You must be the husband” she said
“Thats me” I said
My wife went first. Camille worked her shoulders and her back and my wife made those low happy noises people make on a table. I lay on my own table on my stomach and stared at the floor and counted the minutes.
Then my wife went quiet. Then she was asleep. Face down, one arm hanging off the edge of the table, breathing slow and even.
My wife sleeps like a rock. Two glasses of wine with dinner and she is gone for the whole night. That is the only reason any of this happened.
“You’re up” Camille said.
She pulled the sheet up to my waist and started on my back.
She was good. Better than good. She found a knot under my shoulder blade in about ten seconds and went after it with her elbow and I heard myself make a noise I did not plan to make.
“You are tight as hell right here” she said.
“Every masseuse says that” I said.
“They’re right” she said.
Her hands moved down. Oil, heat, pressure. She worked my lower back and then the top of my glutes and then back up. My hips shifted on the table and that was when I realized I was hard. Fully hard, pressed into the table, with my wife asleep two feet away.
I tried to think about work. I tried to think about the electric bill. Nothing worked.
Camille didn’t say anything. Her hands kept moving, slow and steady, right at the edge of the sheet. Every time she got close to the top of my thighs my whole body went tight and she had to feel it because her hands were on me.
“You are holding a lot of tension right here” she said.
“I know” I said.
She pressed her palm flat on my lower back and leaned into it. That knot again, the deep one, right next to my spine. It was not loosening up. I wanted her to use more pressure and I did not know how to ask for it, so I did the stupidest thing a man can do on a massage table.
I made a fist.
I reached back and put my fist on my own lower back and rolled it up and down a couple of inches, the way a guy does when he is showing someone where the pain is. Up and down. Twice. Right where I wanted her to dig in.
Then I put my hand back under the sheet.
Camille went still.
Not the good kind of still. Dead still. Her hands stopped on my hips and did not move and for three full seconds the only sound in the room was the little machine playing whale noises in the corner.
Then I understood what I had just done.
I turned my head on the table and looked up at her. She was looking at my hand. Then at my face. Then, slow, she looked over at the other table, at my wife, asleep, face down, one arm hanging off the edge.
Neither of us said anything.
She looked back at me. Her hands were still on my hips and I could feel every finger. I opened my mouth to say something and nothing came out and she watched me not say it
Then she looked at my wife one more time. Long. Then she looked at me and her jaw went tight like she was making a decision about something and I watched her make it.
She tapped my hip twice. “Turn over” as if she doesn’t want to be heard
I didnt ask her why. I turned over under the sheet and lay on my back and she pulled the sheet up and folded it down over my hips so it covered everything except me. My cock was standing straight up in the middle of it and there was no hiding it and we both looked at it and neither of us said anything.
I could see my wife now. Across from me, face down, one arm hanging off the edge of her table, dead asleep. Two feet away.
I could have stopped it right there. I want to be honest about that. I could have said no and she would have stopped and we would have finished the massage and gone home and that would have been the end of it.
I didn’t say no. Not really sure why
She put her hand on my stomach first. Flat, warm, oiled. Then she moved it down slow and her fingers closed around my cock.
Her palm was slick and hot and her fingers wrapped the whole way around me and squeezed once, just once, at the base, and my whole body jerked off the table like she had hit a switch. I had been hard for minutes and nobody had touched it and now her hand was on me and it was the best thing I had ever felt in my life.
She started slow. Long pulls from the base to the head, her grip tight enough that I could feel every inch of her fingers, with a little twist at the top and her thumb dragging over the head on the way down. It was so wet and so smooth that I could hear it. I could hear her hand on me in that quiet room and I wanted to die.
She knew exactly what she was doing. She did not speed up when I wanted her to. She kept the same slow pull over and over and every time her thumb hit the head my legs jumped.
I put my arm over my face and bit down on my own forearm. My hips started moving on their own, pushing my cock up into her hand, and she let me. She just kept the same rhythm and let me fuck her fist.
Two feet away my wife lay on her table, asleep, breathing slow and even, one arm hanging off the edge.
“be quiet” Camille said. She said it low, right next to my ear.
“I know” I said into my arm.
She went faster after that. Her other hand stayed flat on my stomach, holding me down, and she pressed hard while she worked my cock with the other one.
She got me right to the edge and then slowed down. Then she took me back up again. Then slowed down again. Three times. By the third one my eyes were watering and my thighs were shaking and I had both hands full of the sheet.
“Please” I said.
“Please what” she said.
I couldn’t say it. I just pushed my hips up into her hand again and she went fast.
I came on her hand. Hard. My whole body curled up off the table and my mouth opened and nothing came out because I was holding it in so hard and I had to bite down on my own arm to keep the sound down. She kept stroking my cock through it, slow, until my legs were shaking so bad I had to push my hips down into the table to make her stop.
I lay there with my eyes closed and my heart going and my ears ringing.
I thought that was it. I thought she would clean her hands and put the sheet back and we would be done and I would get dressed and that would be that.
Then I heard her move.
She stepped around to the head of the table and stood behind the top of my head. Then she bent over me, all the way over, and her body came down on top of mine. Her body was right over my face
I put my hand over my own mouth. Her mouth was hot and wet and she went down slow, all the way, until her lips were at the base and her nose was pressed into my skin. Then she pulled back up just as slow, dragging her tongue flat along the underside the whole way, and I felt it in my toess
She did that over and over. All the way down, all the way up. Her hand followed her mouth and her tongue did something at the head every time she came back up and I could not keep my hips still. I put my hand on the back of her head and she did not stop. She moaned a little with her mouth full and the vibration went right through me.
I was still sensitive from the first one. Every pass of her tongue was almost too much and she knew it and she kept going anyway.
“Again” I said. I didnt mean to say it out loud.
She went faster. Her mouth working me hard and sloppy and I could hear it, wet and loud, right there in that little room with my wife asleep two feet away. Spit ran down her chin onto me and she did not care.
It built fast the second time. Faster than the first. My legs went stiff and my back came off the table and I grabbed the edge of it with one hand.
“Im gonna cum” I said.
She didn’t pull off. She went all the way down and stayed there with her nose pressed into me and her throat working around me and I came in her mouth.
I came and came and she swallowed every drop of it. I could feel her throat move on me the whole time. She did not lift her head until I was done and then she pulled back slow and wiped her mouth with the back of her wrist.
Nobody said anything for a while. I lay there with my eyes closed and my heart going and the oil drying on my skin.
Camille folded the sheet back up over me and went to the sink and ran the water like nothing had happened.
My wife was still asleep. She didnt move the whole time. She doesnt know.
I sat up when I could and got dressed. My legs were not right and I had to sit back down once. My hands were shaking on the buttons.
Camille didnt look at me again. Not once
My wife woke up on her own and stretched and told Camille her back had never felt better. Camille walked us to the door and my wife paid her there, cash, and talked the whole time about how we should do this every year.
In the car I couldnt think of anything to say. My wife drove. She put her hand on my knee the whole way home and told me she was gonna book us again in the summer and I said okay.
She doesnt know. Doesn’t have tof