Sighing, I set down the loupe with satisfaction. Not only had the goldsmith done an elegant job with the simple setting, but

the carving of the onyx looked just as good as it had the day I finished my painstaking work. The inverted relief of the seal depicted a strong hand (left, because Michael is left handed) from which sprang a flame like figure. Upon closer inspection, one could see clearly that the figure was female, and if one knew me very well, one could see that her proportions were rather like my own. It was a gift that symbolized so much of the pleasure I had learned to receive from his strong and capable hands, pleasure that made me almost purr as he stroked my limbs and kneaded the stiffness from my back.

Lapidary work is my hobby, though I do design jewelry for a living. I ll never rival Paloma Picasso, but several of my pieces have been reproduced en masse for the costume jewelry market, and I enjoy seeing knockoffs of my work winking back at me from lapels and earlobes as I go around town. A lot of my time is spent at a drawing board, and I tend to get very tight across the back and shoulders. It is as though my muscles have to knot up for me to concentrate.

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“Calm, relaxing massages by exceptionally pretty masseuses skilled in the art of manual release. Come visit our dreamy pleasure pad and experience our full menu of massage variations.” This item caught my eye when I was leafing through a sexually oriented newspaper.

I was immediately intrigued, for friends of mine had told me stories of how wonderful these massages can feel: Not only do these girls give you an invigorating massage, they also jerk you off with great dexterity. I decided to give it a try.

I called the listed number from my office one afternoon. A woman answered and gave me a little more information. I asked her if I could make an appointment for six that evening. She told me to call back to confirm at five o’clock. When I called back, she told me I should call from a phone booth at a certain intersection.

After a quick trip to a cash machine, I found the correct phone booth and dialed the number. The same woman answered and directed me across the street to the basement entrance of an apartment building. I rang the bell and was greeted by a stunningly beautiful yet mature woman. She was perhaps in her late thirties, with long, straight, chestnut brown hair. Her face was round and wide, with huge dark eyes and a friendly smile. She introduced herself as Sabina and invited me in with a voice that had a slight Eastern European accent.

The “pleasure pad” was one room a small space, about fifteen by thirty. Dominating this room was an examination table sitting directly in the center. There was an armchair off to the side and a large cabinet at one end, and a credenza with a phone and answering machine ran along the far wall. Shadows cast by flickering candles danced across the room.

I asked Sabina if she ran a one woman operation. “No, there are five of us,” she said. I couldn’t imagine any of the other four women being more beautiful than she.

Sabina asked me if I wanted to take a shower. I accepted the offer. It was a hot day, and I was more than a bit nervous about this, so I was perspiring heavily. I undressed right in front of her, as the bathroom was small. I left my clothes on the armchair, took the towel which was offered me and showered.

When I came out of the bathroom, Sabina told me to lie down on the table. I did as requested, lying facedown. I must say I felt a little bit like a baby on a bearskin rug. She then ran through the menu of options. A half hour massage was sixty five dollars, eighty five for an hour. I went for the hour. Sabina also explained that she would give the massage topless for an extra twenty dollars, nude for forty. A prostate massage was thirty five dollars. Since I like to include anal contact in my sexual encounters, I decided to go for the prostate massage, and to have Sabina nude.

She demurely went behind a changing screen at the foot of the table. When she emerged I noted that she had a very nice body very fit her breasts round and capped by dark red nipples. Her thatch of pubic hair was the same color as the hair on her head. From my position on the table, it was not easy to drink in her nudity, at least not without craning my neck in uncomfortable positions. I realized that when I rolled over, I would get a better look, so I was content to bide my time.

Sabina asked me if I wanted a light massage or a deep one. I opted for a deep massage. She then asked me if I minded if she used lotion. I didn’t, so she squirted some into her hands and began the massage. She started with my upper back, and right away I knew I was in for a treat. Her strong fingers kneading my back had me in a blissful state swiftly, and I was sure that Sabina knew what she was doing. Slowly, inexorably, she worked her way down my back, smoothing away kinks and bumps that had tied my muscles in knots.

Her soothing ministrations soon centered on my neck and shoulders. Then her hands moved down to my ass. Now I was really feeling good. Her deft fingers alternated between a soft caressing and a firm massaging of my buttocks. A soft smile of joy crept across my face. Outside I heard the sounds of the street. Little did the pedestrians know that a mere twenty feet away was a man receiving a top notch rubdown from a beautiful naked woman.

Before long Sabina crawled up on the table between my legs and began to massage the backs of my thighs. I moaned my approval, my cock hardening beneath me. Classical flute music was playing in the background and the candlelight danced on the walls as she worked my legs over, running her palms up and down my flesh.

I lost all track of time and had begun to feel very sleepy when Sabina said I could roll over. I did so, once again glorying in her beautiful nudity. My cock, half hard, lolled against my stomach. Sabina stood behind my head and ran her fingers across my chest. Then she worked on my face and neck, paying special attention to my forehead and temples. This woman was thorough!

After rubbing down my arms and hands, pulling on each finger separately, Sabina made long drawn out movements down my chest and stomach, applying gentle but firm pressure on a spot just below my navel but above my pubic bone. My cock began to stand up and take notice.

Once again she went down my legs, inch by inch, until she was at my feet, which she rubbed gently. Every part of me felt loose and relaxed, except for my cock, which was beginning to feel left out. Sabina went to the cabinet behind me and pulled out a pair of rubber gloves. Now his was what I’d been waiting for.

She climbed up on the table between my legs. I put my hands beneath my head so I could see her better. How beautiful she was so sexy, yet mother like. “For the prostate massage, you’ll need to raise your knees,” she said softly. I did as she asked as she commenced rubbing my balls and inserting a finger in my asshole.

I had experimented during masturbation with inserting a finger in my ass, but it had never done anything for me. In the hands of a professional, though, the feeling was marvelous. She fucked my ass with her fingers as I gazed rhapsodically at her marvelous form. My cock was now fully hard, and she grasped it firmly with her free hand.

Gradually she picked up the pace, masturbating me with sure, confident strokes. How many men had she done this for? I thought. But soon I banished that idea from my mind, because it really felt as if she were catering to me and me alone, seeing to my special needs. Oh, how lovely it felt! This gifted woman’s hands slid up and down my greased pole like a real virtuoso’s.

Sabina looked into my eyes and smiled warmly. “Are you close?” she whispered, her hand flying up and down my cock. I looked over at the clock and realized that my time was almost up. “Yes,” I managed to croak, laying my head back and willing myself to relax completely. Seconds later the come issued out of me like a fountain, most of it shooting up past my head onto the table, the rest coating my chest and stomach.

Matter of factly Sabina climbed down and wiped up my seed with some paper towels. “Rest a minute,” she said comfortingly. “If you want to take another shower, go ahead.” With that she disappeared behind the changing screen. After a few minutes, I climbed down and took another shower, washing away the residue of lotion that coated my body.

When I came back Sabina had dressed, looking for all the world like a woman ready to go on a Sunday stroll, nothing like a professional masseuse who specializes in “manual release.” I dressed as she took a call from another client. I then handed her $160, plus a twenty dollar tip that she appreciated.

Before I left, Sabina told me that if I wanted to come back, I should identify myself by my first name and the first initial of my last name. I filed that information away, for I certainly would be making a return visit.

Seconds later I found myself back on the street, feeling thoroughly tranquil, completely at peace with the world. Memories of the massage I received from Sabina’s magic hands would not quickly fade.

Mr. (Name and address withheld)

Ann and I met at work, and because we both lived alone and shared a distaste for solo dining, we started having occasional, quiet ladies’ nights together. Ann would usually come to my place directly from her daily workout she had a religious dedication to regular, vigorous exercise and as we became more familiar with each other, she occasionally asked me to give her rubdowns before dinner.

I used to give massages professionally, and it felt good to practice again. Besides, there was just something special about her she was young, and fresh, but it was more. . . almost as if she had a special power to channel her strength and vitality. She did something for me to me that fed a desperate, starving need that I hadn’t even been aware of before.

I was thrilled to massage her body, or to do anything I could for her, in order to make me part of her life. I longed for pretty Ann, for her smile, her beauty, her body. Finally there came a day when I no longer had to hide my feelings, and I remember it in every detail.

We were at my apartment, pampering ourselves with wine and an old movie on video. When the movie was over, Ann stood up and stretched her limbs, complaining that she was sore from working out too hard the day before. I offered a massage, and she accepted.

While I set out the lotions and oils, Ann took her shirt and jeans off. She said that she was having muscle twitches in her hamstrings and buttocks, and asked me if I would mind doing her backside to work the cramps out. When I assured her that I didn’t, she took her panties off right in front of me. This was the first time I’d seen her naked sex. She was very nonchalant about being nude in my presence, not a bit self conscious.

If she noticed me staring, she was kind enough to not embarrass me. She casually strode to my massage table and climbed on, facedown, her head resting on her folded arms. I began to slowly knead the tired muscles from her shoulders to her shapely calves. It was so arousing to feel her supple body in my hands, her shoulders and back yielding to my fingers. And I so loved caressing her firm, shapely thighs, so soft and warm to my touch.

Ann turned over onto her back. My hands sensually roamed her body while she rested, my own body flushing with excitement as I struggled to maintain my composure. I was afraid of scaring her or ruining our friendship, so I held back I controlled myself. It was all I could do to contain the passion that coursed through the seemingly innocent, soft caresses of my hands.

But there was no haven from the excruciating sexual tension her warm flower was right there before me, gloriously framed by those fabulous legs and covered with a neatly trimmed light fur of soft auburn. The thrilling sensations between my thighs took me to a strange, erotic new world of sensuality in which my self control was compromised. It didn’t seem that I would even have the strength to stay my little gasps of delight, or to quiet my deep, breathy sighs. At any moment I would collapse from the weakness in my knees.

Ann said that her feet were tired from walking all day and asked me if I would do them too. I cheerfully agreed and started working on her soles and toes. She really liked that and twice asked me to continue when I had been ready to move on. I worked a good twenty minutes on just her feet, using my thumbs to make soft rotating motions on the skin. Her purr of satisfaction spurred me on. Ann rolled over and I worked my way up her shapely legs.

I arrived at her tight butt with already aching hands but kneaded the perfect cheeks enthusiastically as I smelled the perfume of the squishy body lotion. Ann moaned her approval as I worked her ass with my hands, and I could barely restrain myself from moaning back at the sight of her pussy beneath me.

In the end, I couldn’t hold out. A few minutes of massaging her gorgeous butt had me beside myself with erotic longing. After weeks of agonizing over my feelings for her and my fear of rejection, I was at the limit of my control. As I shakily bent over her, with both hands still on her butt, I brought my face close to hers. Her eyes were closed I don’t think I could have done it otherwise and I brought my open lips down to her cheek and kissed her warmly.

Her response was not shock or anger, just surprise. She questioned me in a quiet voice, and I simply, desperately, answered, “I love you” and moved to kiss her again on the mouth. She did not draw back from the long, open kiss, and after a moment, she pressed her mouth into mine and turned her body toward me. I scampered clumsily onto the table with her, and we meshed into a twisting, squirming tangle.

As my hand found her pussy, I gently caressed her wet folds. Her loud moan rang in my ear as I pressed two fingers against her slick vaginal lips, pinning them back to expose the pink interior. I massaged the sensitive lips as her moans quieted to desperate gasps and longing whimpers. When I finally entered her probing her with one, then two fingers she writhed uncontrollably beneath me, her naked body jerking.

After a few long, straining moments of this passion, I pressed the flat of my forefinger directly on her swollen clitoris. I rubbed her sensitive button gently, but firmly enough. Her body went stiff, and she began trembling. A moment later, she was spent.

I gathered her up in my arms and combed her wet hair back with my fingers as I held her head on my shoulder. She kissed the skin at my neck, and a warm feeling enveloped my whole being. And as I held her, she gave more kisses, on my neck and shoulders, on my face and mouth and then on the tops of my breasts. Suddenly Ann sat up and lowered me down to the table.

My athletic lover was like a hungry, predatory cat, sitting upright on my hips, ready to devour me, her sexual prey. She practically tore the clothes off my body and then immediately went for my breasts. She showered my tits with sweet kisses and sharp love bites, then coated them with saliva with her openmouthed sucking and licking.

After working on my breasts for a long time, Ann moved downward. I squirmed helplessly as her hot mouth traveled down my belly to my hips. When I felt her heavy breath on my sex, I thought I’d faint, and when she passed it by to nibble at my thighs, I thought I’d explode from frustration. As her teeth teasingly tugged at the soft, sensitive skin at the tops of my thighs: I moaned out, “Please.”

Finally I heard her cute giggle as she raised her face, and again I felt her hot breath warm me through the curls of my sex. No more begging, no more games the tease was over. I nearly jumped off the table when her tongue touched my outer lips. I lay back and enjoyed the sweet sensations as she began to please me with her mouth. In a moment the air was filled with the gentle, slick sounds of sweet cunnilingus I was on my way to the best orgasm of my life.

Ms. C.F., Georgia

I have been married for ten years, and my lover has been married for eighteen years. Edna and I have been able to keep our relationship going strong since 1985, and we take every opportunity to be together, although we are separated by 175 miles. We are both in our late thirties and keep in really great shape with regular exercise.

Edna wanted to do something special for my birthday and asked me if I would enjoy a massage by a professional masseur. I told her that would be great. We discovered one in a mutually convenient city and set up an appointment. She asked the masseur, a gentleman in his mid forties, if she could watch the massage, “to learn how to give better ones.” He agreed.

A week later Edna and I arrived at the masseur’s studio. We chatted for a while, and then I undressed. Wrapped in a towel, I got on the table. Edna decided to change while the masseur began working on me. Partway into the massage, Edna walked into the dimly lit massage room wearing a transparent t shirt and “diaper style” wrap shorts. Nothing else. Now, we have had great fun dressing Edna up in public areas, but in the privacy of a masseur’s room and with me naked, it had an extraordinary effect on all of us!

The masseur lost focus on his work and began to watch Edna more closely. Edna asked him if she could join in, and I went from a level of relaxation to one of great excitement. With both Edna and the masseur massaging my legs, I developed a giant erection. The masseur asked me if I would like to have a “complete” massage and began stroking my cock with a terrific scented oil. At this point Edna was as aroused as I was.

All I could hear as I came was Edna’s heavy breathing as she took off her top and shorts. I got off the table and helped Edna lie down she wanted a “massage” too! She lay on her stomach, and the masseur began his deft work on her back and legs. After a while she began to arch her back as she rubbed her clit on the table. She was ready to turn over before he was finished with her backside.

As I sat back and watched, the masseur spent at least fifteen minutes rubbing and kneading Edna’s breasts, and she was enjoying that special service to the utmost. He began working her legs, and for every inch he moved upward, she spread her thighs a bit more. Soon her legs were dangling off the table and she was arching her pussy upward. I had to marvel at the masseur’s technique his soft touch made her moan in a way I had never heard before.

Edna started climaxing as he began palming her pussy, moving his hand in firm circles and making her gasp under him. Then, with two fingers, he started pushing inside her and rubbing against her clit in such an expert way that she was almost delirious with pleasure. By this time I had another great hard on. I stood next to the table so I could massage Edna’s tits. She was in seventh heaven and I was not far behind. Suddenly Edna tilted her head and took my cock in her mouth. She gave me the most exquisite head I have ever had in all my born days, right in front of the masseur!

Obviously it was the best birthday gift I have ever had. If you want to do something special for that special someone, I heartily recommend a massage especially if you can find a masseur as skilled as the one we found not an easy task!

Mr. L.C., Arkansas

She was, to be point blank, the sexiest woman alive. Over ten inches taller than I am, slim, with wild black hair almost to her waist. She moved sensuously, like a Chinese leopard. And even though Tekla was seven years older I’m twenty four she always made my groin ache. I often wondered how her firm breasts, standing out like blunt missiles, could be natural on a woman that trim.

Moving into this exotic masseuse’s spare bedroom made for a more provocative landlady tenant relationship than I could possibly have imagined. The agreement was that I be out of her house from ten to seven, so that she would be free to work her massage magic on her clients on the very bed I slept in at night. Imagining all this consumed my office thoughts wholly: what her hands were doing while I keyboarded, what her hands would feel like on me, on my erection.

After the first week, I knew in my heart that it was a mistake to try to live there. I was so sexually excited and I turned on by the overpowering sexual aura of this almond colored goddess. I couldn’t concentrate. When I saw her sultry, slanted, almond eyes over cornflakes each morning, her filmy, blue kimono with the obvious dark impressions of her thick, pointed nipples, I was on “simmer” for the day.

I looked forward to coming home every day and finding her dressed in an outfit even more revealing than the one she had tantalized me with the day before. The roll and sway of her taut legs and perky bottom under her long satin shirts or the way they glistened, so freshly depilated and oiled as she bent over in front of me, kept my mind off any television I had planned for late evenings.

It was easy to imagine kneeling before her and sucking and kissing her long toes when I watched her deep red toenails glitter as she flexed her soft feet on the ottoman. Her every movement became a taunt and a reason for my cock to throb. I was constantly having painful erections.

By the end of the first month, I was almost exhausted from the constant state of arousal she kept me in. A few times 1 had to excuse myself from watching television or the VCR and go to the guest room to let the heat fade, fighting the urge to masturbate furiously while imagining it was her velvet pussy or her silken mouth sucking the juices of frustration from my hard on. At night I had dreams of making love to her or just plain fucking her senseless.

That fateful Saturday night, I must have been starry eyed with need when she glided into the den, rocking her hips in a come fuck me way. She looked straight into my eyes and whispered, “I bet you want a taste of my work, don’t you? Right on that bed. Well, you’ve been good. You deserve it.” My cock was already half hard and almost spilled on the spot. She was prepared to give me “a little rubdown” on the condition that I lie naked and waiting for her with my hands behind my head when she came to me. “Go now,” she said, dismissing me. “Wait for me like a good boy.”

Tekla came to me after an hour that seemed like an eternity. My hard on raged between my legs, bobbing and throbbing with anticipation. I quickly assumed the hands behind the head position as the door opened. I don’t remember what I expected her to be dressed in, but the opaque green kimono she wore revealed less than I’d hoped for. She neither looked at me nor spoke, not acknowledging my rigid offering to her sexuality, as she lit one candle on the nightstand and turned out the lights.

The house was totally silent, no appliances hummed and she made no sound moving on her bare feet. The only light in the whole house was the one candle, its warm light glinting once off her red toenails before they disappeared under the satin folds of her kimono. She sat facing me with her legs folded Hindu style, her loose hair falling around her face.

Tekla straightened the front of her robe, which revealed only deep, soft cleavage between her enormous, swaying breasts. From a small bottle she poured a fragrant oil into her palms and rubbed it into her hands. I was sure she’d rub it onto my cock, but she reached for the closed front of her robe instead and massaged the slippery substance onto her nipples through the fabric.

I was amazed at how transparent the satin of her robe became as the oil soaked it it adhered to her like a second skin, as if her breasts were made of naked silk. She smoothed the warm smelling oil onto the robe from her neckline down across the swelling slopes of her gleaming breasts, down over her flat stomach to the wide V between her legs. As the oil penetrated her lower lips, I could smell another perfume in the heavy air as I watched her arouse herself. Tekla smoothed and pressed the glistening cloth into her hidden pussy lips, deep inside, with her index fingers, pulling the lips wide and stuffing more of the soaked fabric into herself. The cloth disappeared almost to the hem, slowly revealing her bare legs, from folded knees to shapely calves and hairless thighs.

As the minutes passed, she concentrated all her energies on her own satisfaction, pulling and pressing on the cloth stuffed between her legs as if it were a solid dildo, applying more oil to her engorged nipples and pinching them through the robe till she squeezed out droplets which ran down her arms to her elbows. She never reached inside the robe to touch her bare skin, preferring to satisfy herself through the silk barrier and beginning to rock and moan as she manipulated herself. I was completely ignored.

Rivulets of sweat were trickling down her face and running unabsorbed over the oil soaked kimono by the time she arched up into her final paroxysm of orgasm. My loins were pounding with need. Drops of pre come had dribbled down my erection.

Minutes passed. Tekla’s robe clung to her like green silk skin. It was parted to her navel in the front. I could see every wrinkle and nubbin of the crinkled nipples, on her magnificent swelling breasts, which rose and fell as she breathed. When she reached for my cock, even though she didn’t touch me, I could feel it in every fiber of my body. My passion was higher than I’d ever imagined, and I almost came as her blood red talons raked the air around me. All I could feel was the heat of her hands scant millimeters away from my supersensitive cockflesh, masturbating the air around me but never touching me. My hips arched involuntarily, and I looked up to see her knowing smile.

I almost jumped when her fingernail pricked my sphincter. Tapping slowly at first, then more firmly, she touched me there, making me writhe and gasp. She tapped a little higher, moving in delicate patterns my mind was fascinated to follow. I couldn’t tell when she moved higher, but in a while my balls were being covered by little stinging prickles all the way to the shaft of my manhood. The candle burned lower and began to flicker before she touched my aching erection. I was so sensitive that I could detect the pattern of her fingerprints on my skin.

I gasped in sexual agony once again as Tekla pulled a little of the fabric away from one bountiful breast, revealing a bit more of the soft, golden flesh I wanted to touch but wasn’t allowed to. Her thumb, glistening with oil, moved up the length of my cock too slowly, and she peeled back the fabric a bit more from her other breast, letting it sway an inch closer to my eyes. She stroked with thumb and forefinger up the length of me, but not back down, and paused to reveal another expanse of her slippery golden breasts. And so it went for long, agonizing minutes, touching, teasing, revealing, teasing, till at last the candle went out and we were in almost perfect darkness.

I heard a rustle of satin in the darkness. A powerful scent of musk overwhelmed my senses for a moment. My eyes were adjusting to the dark as the saturated satin covered my face and wet my skin with her orgasmic juices. I saw only a glimpse of her naked silhouette before being enfolded in darkness. It was more than I could stand when Tekla finally gripped my shaft firmly and shook it like a stick from side to side. The feel of the oiled satin against the raw meat at the tip of my shaft and the strength of her grip on my cock caused a gush of hot juices from deep inside me.

Even as the fruits of my passion jetted from my cock, I reached out and pulled her to me, pressing her hot lips to mine, crushing her luscious body against me. I finished coming as she slid from my grasp and out of the room. And I was permanently stamped with the memory of her flesh moving on my flesh.

Mr. K.V., Pennsylvania

My husband, Harold, and I have been married for almost four years. This is the second time around for both of us. My first husband was satisfied with maybe twice a month of slam, bam, thank you ma’am lovemaking, and that was the pits. I really learned to love my vibrator during my first marriage, let me tell you.

Just so you know, Harold thinks I am the sexiest woman around. I am small, only five three, and weigh about 100 pounds. I have brown hair, medium length, and very tine features. Harold and I have tried almost every possible sexual variation, having gotten many of our ideas from your magazine. But what I want to tell you about is what happened the other day it was new for both of us.

It was morning, and we had just finished a wonderful lovemaking session. Harold was running his nails up and down my back, which is something he knows I love. As I purred with approval, he suggested that I go to a professional masseur and really get worked on. I thought that was a great idea, but then we came up with an even better one. Why not just pretend a little bit, and maybe I could end up with more than a massage. Harold and I decided that when I felt like a massage, I would just tell him I had a massage appointment and what time the appointment was for. I was to treat him not as my lover and husband but strictly as a masseur. It sounded like great fun.

The following Saturday, we were sitting on the living room couch when I said, “Harold, I really have had a tough week at work and feel really tight. I have made an appointment for a massage at eight tonight.” My husband smiled, as did I when I saw him adjust his cock in his pants.

Not much was said about my massage appointment during the day. We just treated it as if I were going to the manicurist. By seven o’clock, though, I was really excited about what lay ahead. At eight I went up to our bedroom, stripped down to my panties and wrapped a towel around my breasts. I then lay facedown on our king size bed, pretending it was a massage table.

In a few minutes Harold entered, introduced himself and asked me if this was my first visit to the massage parlor. I said yes, and then he explained what he would do and how relaxed I would be when he was done. I could see the outline of his almost erect cock through his shorts. I was hoping for more than just a massage, but I didn’t know if this particular parlor offered anything special. I would have to just wait and see.

Harold, my masseur, began very slowly, working on my neck and shoulders, gently at first and then with a little more pressure, Very carefully he removed the towel and started to work on my back, avoiding the sides of my breasts and my panty covered ass. After about twenty minutes of this teasing treatment, Harold began to work on my legs, going all the way down to massage each and every toe. I shifted a bit on the bed and touched the outside of my panties. Harold tells me all the time that I get wetter than any woman he has ever known, and, boy, was I wet now!

He kept working on my legs, carefully avoiding my sodden panties. My breathing was becoming erratic. Each time his hand got close to my pussy, I wanted him to touch it so bad. And he wouldn’t. After fifteen minutes, Harold moved up to my back and began to scratch me. This is one of the biggest turn ons there is for me, and he knows it. I began to feel an orgasm building.

Suddenly he stopped. “Are you more relaxed now?” he asked. I nodded. I was about to tell him that it would be cruel to leave me there, so close to coming, when, in a very quiet voice, he asked, “Would the lady care to avail herself of our special service?” I immediately said yes. Then he told me that some of his lady customers liked to be touched in more private areas. He asked me if I was interested. “Absolutely,” I replied.

Harold, playing his part to perfection, asked me to turn over onto my back. As I did, I saw that he was fully aroused, too. He immediately began to massage my upper body, rubbing and kneading my breasts and sides. My nipples were standing erect, and once again I could feel the heat rising in my thighs. His hand slowly moved to my panties.

He began slowly again but quickly picked up his pace. I wanted to come so badly his fingers were driving me crazy. Suddenly he slipped two fingers inside my panties and spread me open. My clitoris jutted out and he started to flick it softly with a finger. With his other hand he removed my drenched underpants, all the while toying with my clit. I could feel it now more than ever all I could focus on was the mounting pleasure.

Then it happened, without notice. Suddenly I felt the wetness of Harold’s mouth on my clit. I moaned and my legs tightened around his head, my stomach quivered and I was swept away into that very special world of pure pleasure.

Several minutes later, as I relaxed and savored my orgasm, I realized that I wanted more. I wanted my cunt filled with cock. I wanted it badly. I just didn’t know how to ask, and I hoped my masseur would offer it to me. Harold started to lightly touch my legs again, then my breasts, then my thighs. I was in heaven. And then he stood up.

Eyes closed, I could hear the sound of clothes being removed. I opened my eyes to see him standing there, naked and waiting. I leaned over and started to kiss his cock and run my tongue up and down the shaft, and it started to grow larger and larger. I ached to have him pounding into me, his beautiful cock buried in my cunt. Harold asked, “Would you like the really special treatment? Would you like me inside you?”

All I could do was moan. Quickly Harold slipped into bed and coupled with me. Faster and faster he fucked me, just the way I wanted it. He put his hands under my ass and pounded away at me. And then it happened. I could feel him start to shudder, then shake, and I worked my hips faster and faster. Our screams of joy filled the bedroom as we came together. His sweet come filled my cunt, and I held him so tight. It was a magic night.

My life with Harold is fantastic. He says I am the world’s greatest lover, and I think he is. There is nothing better than feeling loved every day and having someone who helps you “relax” all the time.

Ms. P.E., Maine

I was hot all over. The flush that had started at my face and neck was spreading downward. My exertion was causing perspiration to trickle down between my breasts jiggling against my loose cotton top. Now I could taste the salt on my lips and feel its sting in my eyes. I knew that my bright pink nylon shorts would soon be sticking to my bottom and a few other places. I hated to get my new birthday present sweaty, but that was the name of the game.

The game? My birthday present to myself. Pounding around the cinder track at the local high school on the hottest August day in years. When my latest birthday had put me in the category of thirtysomething, I had added running to my exercise routine. I had worked my way up to four miles, sixteen boring laps around the track. But I enjoyed the boredom because it left my mind free to think and notice things around me in a dreamy sort of way.

And a dream he was. Ahead of me on the track was the stuff of fantasies. Nearly nude in the unusual summer heat, his bronze skin glowed.

The muscles in his back and shoulders were taut, but he ran with a smoothness I envied. This morning was the third or fourth time he had joined me on the track. We had never spoken, but that only added to his mystique.

As he rounded the curve, I enjoyed the front view: well defined stomach muscles, a broad chest tapering to a slim waist, the black nylon running shorts beginning to adhere to him in the most intriguing places. He must have felt my eyes examining him because he raised his hands in a wave like gesture and smiled.

Our heated dance around the track continued in silence. I could feel his eyes on me, and my skin prickled from more than just the heat of my salty sweat. His footfalls came closer until I could hear his even, controlled breathing. I knew my pink shorts would catch his eye. And I guess the fact that they now clung to my body wouldn t hurt much, either.

As he swung alongside me, his brown eyes crinkled in anticipation of my breasts. Instead of passing me as he usually did, he shortened his stride and stayed next to me, matching my pace.

I tried to act nonchalant and prayed he wouldn t expect me to carry on a normal conversation. I still found it impossible to talk and run simultaneously.

But luckily he did most of the talking. Hot, he mumbled. I agreed. How many more? he added.

I thought a few seconds. More what? Heat? Idiots like me? Then I realized he probably meant laps. As I opened my dry lips to answer, he chuckled. I realized that I had lost count because of his handsome distraction.

He smiled as if he knew why I was so vague. Great. It s too hot to keep this up much longer. I m ready to drop. It was my turn to laugh. So this running wasn t as easy for him as I thought. I had a partner in agony.

As we rounded the track again we reached his small pile of warm up clothes and athletic bag. Suddenly he grasped my hand and pulled me over to the side of the track. Enough, he grunted. It s too damn hot. He knelt down and held out a container of water. It was cool spring water, an imported elixir. Join me.

Thanks. I took a swallow, but found that catching my breath and drinking didn t go well together.

As I sputtered, he said, Here. We better walk and cool down as we drink.

One lap later we had exchanged names, a few more laughs, and emptied the bottle. He watched me hold the bottle next to my still damp neck. His eyes wandered lower. You know, Erica, I have a much better way to cool down than this. He motioned toward the container.

With my mind on spas or pools, I said, Really?

Yup. And this place is right around the corner. His sable brown eyes held a glint of daring and something else I couldn t quite identify. Interested?

I had always found it difficult to turn down a dare, and those eyes made it impossible. Sure, Jeff. But I don t have a swimsuit.

His low chuckle sent shivers up my spine. You won t need one.

A few minutes later we walked into the cool interior of Jeff s home. I glanced toward the backyard. Not a pool or spa in sight. Puzzled, I joined him in the living room. His tanned body stretched out like a cat on the buttery leather sofa.

Here. Make yourself comfortable.

I grimaced as I sat down next to him. I can t, I m all sticky.

He sighed and stretched again. I know. So am I.

As if on cue, a tall, willowy blonde entered the room. She held out two terrycloth robes. Her blue eyes flickered over me as she smiled.

I turned in puzzlement to Jeff. He rose and said, Erica, I d like you to meet the lady in charge of my cool downs.

But . . .

Jeff continued as if I hadn t spoken. Rikki, how would you like to work on two people today? Are your fine fingers up to it?

Rikki s eyes danced with laughter. Jeff, hon, you really are very cruel. Can t you see how confused Erica is? She continued to explain as she handed us the robes. I like to give Jeff a cooling rubdown after he jogs. It s very refreshing.

It s more than just refreshing, Jeff added. Rikki is being her usual modest self. She is a physical therapist who knows just where it hurts. She takes all the kinks out.

I looked from Jeff to Rikki and back, watching them watch me. They were both so relaxed and smiling. Why not? I grinned. It sounds like heaven.

They led me to the master bedroom and the king size bed, with Rikki saying, I think I ll do Erica first, okay? Jeff nodded. Just slip off your top and lie facedown.

I pulled my damp top over my head with a small sigh. I glanced over at Jeff. His shoulders raised slightly as he gazed at my bare breasts, and he motioned me to the bed. Go on, he said in a husky voice. Relax.

Rikki touched me on the shoulder gently, urging me to lie down. This will feel cold at first. Ready?

Trying to get comfortable, I mumbled into the pillows. Then I jumped as the icy liquid hit my overheated back.

Relax, Jeff repeated. It s just rubbing alcohol.

Oh, yes, kept in the refrigerator, Rikki giggled. Her fingers worked the alcohol around my back. Soon it was warm and she began to massage my tight muscles. How does that feel?

Sheer bliss, I sighed.

Her hands worked across my shoulders and up to my neck. You re very tight here. Let me work this area a minute.

Quietly, Jeff sat right next to me and gently lifted my hair off my neck. His musky scent combined with the alcohol formed a heady perfume. I sighed again. I couldn t believe this was actually happening to me.

Rikki lightly tapped my rear and said, Okay, your hips and legs are next. As she spoke she deftly removed my running shorts and panties. Ready for more cold?

I scarcely heard her. Jeff s fingers were caressing my neck and hair. Before I knew it, four hands were massaging me. Rikki s hands were stronger and surer, but Jeff s soft touch caused a fire all its own. Together they slowly worked downward. Jeff had reached my waist as Rikki massaged my calves in gentle circles. And now it s time for the front, she breathed.

As I turned over, Jeff stood over me. His brown eyes seemed to question. I reached up and ran my hand slowly up his arm. I heard Rikki s quick intake of breath. You re beautiful, Erica.

My answer was drowned in a wave of icy alcohol on my chest. I tensed and jerked. My nipples rose to hard kernels. But very soon another wave hit me. Jeff continued to stroke my hair and neck. A wave of warmth surrounded me it smoothed and swelled, rolled and rose. Rikki s hands moved over my breasts softly yet firmly. Her lips pursed as she worked and her tongue moistened their dryness. Erica, spread your legs a little. My green eyes met her blue ones and she nodded, rubbing her hands together.

A trickle of some new warm fragrant liquid moved from my belly to my pussy. But she waited to touch me. She watched the tiny rivulets of oil move downward. I tried to lie as still as I could, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. Like little streams, the oil ran through my heated slit to the towel beneath. I squirmed, and her fingers gently caressed my wet hair. I think it s Jeff s turn.

Her voice was so low, I almost didn t hear it. Jeff took her place at the foot of the bed. He was naked and magnificent. His silky cock was almost erect, and I longed to touch it. His beautiful brown eyes locked on mine as he said, May I?

Before I could make room for him on the bed, he grasped my ankle. No, Erica. Stay. His hand replaced Rikki s on my oil soaked pussy. His strong fingers parted my soft lips and then slid inside. I writhed on the bed and moaned. Seismic waves of pleasure swept through me as his glistening hand pounded rhythmically.

As I reached the edge of ultimate pleasure, I moaned, Jeff, let me touch you. Please. My hand closed around his shaft. I smiled and added, Besides, it s your turn.

Nestled in the classic sixty nine position, he stroked and petted my pussy. Now this, he growled, is my idea of a rubdown.

I didn t need any prompting to take his hot, erect member in my mouth. I licked and sucked it, and it stiffened even more. It was too soon for him to come, so I turned my attention to his balls. Jeff groaned as I mouthed one and then the other. Then my hands gave them a teasing massage of my own as I nipped and kissed his dick.

Jeff matched my playfulness. His hot tongue laved my moist cunt, and he nipped my clitoris as he lowered his mouth fully on me. I bucked and pushed my pussy hard against his face, sucking his cock in return. Suddenly he pulled away from me and thrust three of his fingers inside me. Gently at first, then even stronger, he rammed them swiftly in and out. At the same time, he kissed me on my belly, ankles, thighs, anywhere he could reach.

My climax started slowly and then became more intense. It spread until I sobbed at the wonder of it. The throbbing was so intense that I moaned and Jeff chuckled with satisfaction. When I was finally still, he asked wickedly, You cooled down yet, Erica?

I think so, I purred. How about you?

Not yet, babe, he answered as he pulled Rikki onto the bed. How long she had been naked and where she had been for the last few minutes didn t trouble me in the least.

She looked just as happy as I was. Lie down, big fella. She slapped him on the ass. I believe I said it was your turn.

It was his turn to jump as she poured the cool alcohol on his back and began to work her magic. It was pure delight to watch. His muscles twitched under her talented fingers. He sighed as he moved to ease what I was sure was a painfully rigid cock. She methodically moved her hands down his backside, over his buns and onto his hard thighs. My, my, she exclaimed as she pounded his legs, we are all tight today, aren t we?

You should see the other side, woman, he groaned.

Oh, I will, I will, she giggled.

With a mighty shout, he heaved himself off the bed and grabbed her around the waist. I think now is as good a time as any, he growled. He pushed her down on all fours on the bed and entered her swiftly from the back. He slammed her lustily and groaned with his eyes closed. She reached under and caressed his balls, matching his rhythm with her own. Finally he shook and shouted as he spurted inside her.

I was aroused again just by watching them. My pussy dripped with hot juices once more. I groaned and groped blindly for my pussy. Suddenly Rikki twisted away from Jeff. But Jeff, she pouted, I can t see you. You promised. She giggled again and pointed at the two of us. Silently she handed me the container of alcohol.

Jeff collapsed on his back, muttering, Have fun.

I winced as the icy liquid flowed through my fingers onto his chest, but he didn t move. I knew I could never be as good as Rikki at massages, but I was game to try. I smoothed the alcohol around his nipples. Then I leaned over and kissed them gently. The taste of alcohol made me decide to forgo the stuff. I tapped my fingers into his navel and down his trail of pubic hair. I marveled at the response. His limp dick twitched and pulsed. I knew a good thing when I saw it. I glanced at Rikki. So did she. She nodded as I reached for the massage oil to grease his rod. Tenderly I stroked the coolness as it turned to hot velvet in my hands.

Jeff reached out and pulled me toward him. His chest hair tickled my tits as I moved on top of him. He kissed me gently and pushed me into an upright position. I straddled him and guided his stiff dick into my wet and welcoming cunt.

Yes, yes, Rikki breathed. I watched her as she became aroused, and I beckoned to her. She shook her head, so I concentrated on moving slowly on the shaft that threatened to break me in two.

Yes, she moaned again. I want to see it. I want to see you two fuck.

Jeff stroked my clitoris as I rode him higher and faster, bucking and jumping. Suddenly Rikki sat next to Jeff s other hand. He expertly fondled her creamy love nest at the same time he did mine. I felt Jeff growing harder and hotter inside me while my own shattering ripples grew nearer.

Rikki threw her head back as Jeff s fingers rammed her. She panted and then gazed at Jeff s shining member disappearing into my pussy. As I repeatedly rose high above him only to swoop down, she gasped and moved faster against his busy hand. She was coming, and by the looks of her movements it was quite intense. Then suddenly I felt Jeff s balls tighten as his shaft exploded inside me. My own ripples became a tide of coming. I sighed and lay still on his chest.

A few minutes later Jeff whispered, How s that for a cool down?

Wonderful, I whispered in return.

As Rikki rose and turned toward the shower, she asked for a smile, Are you going running again tomorrow?

Massage has always been wonderful therapy for me, but not long ago I had an absolutely memorable experience with my masseur. Kevin and I have been friends for a long time, and I didn t think he knew I was attracted to him. When I finally realized that he wanted me as much as I wanted him, I wished I d expressed my feelings sooner!

Kevin came to my house, sunny and exuberant as usual, and quickly set up his table. I watched him pull out the table legs, his well toned muscles flexing through his tank top. He bent forward and away from me, so I could see the strain of his ass against his tight jeans. The sight of that tight bottom made my nipples start to harden, and I was glad he couldn t see me staring.

As if he had read my mind, Kevin glanced back at me over his shoulder. His eyes sparkled. I knew I was beginning to blush, but I quickly tried to cover it by chattering nonsensically. Kevin listened and responded, but I couldn t shake the feeling that he knew my pussy was moistening.

The moment his oil covered hands touched my back, I felt some of my muscles begin to relax. He asked me if it felt good, and I quite honestly answered yes as his hands moved over my neck and shoulders. Silly question! Even without his professional expertise those big, gentle hands would have felt great. He was using a new oil too, something with a light herbal scent.

I just want you to relax, he said, his hands tracking down my back and ribs from my shoulders to my lower back and then to the cheeks of my ass. He kneaded my legs, following the tightness of the muscles to its source and leaving me deliciously limp.

Turning me over, Kevin massaged my shins and the fronts of my thighs, brushing lightly at the tender insides, perilously close to my pussy lips. I tried to be nonchalant about it, but he must have sensed my hesitation, for he murmured, It s okay, just relax.

He shifted again, this time to the sides of my neck, my shoulders and upper arms, and then to my chest muscles. Inevitably his hands cupped my breasts and kneaded them gently. No more need for reassurances now his touch was overtly erotic, and my nipples were answering by standing up to meet his fingers.

Those tingling hands left my breasts too soon to slide down my stomach to my thighs again, and his fingers probed the sweet swell of my pussy lips. A sigh escaped me, and before I knew it I was pumping his finger in earnest, my juices dripping. Kevin lifted me up onto my knees and hungrily replaced his finger with his lips and tongue. I ground my pussy into his face as he eagerly licked and sucked me.

Just when I thought I couldn t stand it any longer, he stopped and climbed up onto the table behind me, cleared his massive cock of clothing and rammed it all the way up inside me.

I moaned in delight as he played with my clitoris in rhythm with his slow, deep pumping. His hand alternated between dancing there between my legs and squeezing my nipples. He went back and forth, still grinding, until the heat in me exploded into flames, leaving me begging breathlessly for more. I m surprised the table didn t collapse, but I don t think that would have stopped us. Only exhaustion managed to do that, and only temporarily.

We have been lovers from that day, and besides his gentle and thorough fucking, there s the extra benefit of all those free massages! What more could a woman ask for?

Ms. T.D., Alabama

The unmistakable scent of baby oil wafted up to my nostrils as I opened the bedroom door. Patrick was on the bed, the room was lit with candles and I knew immediately that this was just a sign of what was next to come.

Every year on the anniversary of the first time we ever slept together, Patrick attempts to re create the moment, adding romantic flourishes that were nonexistent that first time seven years ago, when we made love surrounded by notes on Milton s prose.

Walking slowly toward the bed, I could still recall the electricity I felt when Patrick kissed me for the first time. And as if he could read my thoughts, Patrick pulled me into his arms then and interrupted my memories, pressing his lips to mine. His kisses were rapacious, and knee weakening, and when our tongues finally met, I was both immediately lost in the moment and catapulted all the way back to the long distant past torn between two times.

Seven years before, we had just finished studying Paradise Lost, when Patrick first placed his hands on my shoulders and began to massage them. I was slightly surprised by this gesture.

We had been studying for a final exam for one of the several grad school classes we had taken together, when he jumped up and began rubbing my shoulders as naturally as if I had asked him to, and as if he had done this a thousand times before.

I was stressed and really welcomed the massage, but Patrick and I had never touched prior to this, and his hands felt foreign to my body but slightly erotic as well.

He started out soft and gentle, pressing his thumbs into my shoulder blades, then moving up toward my neck, working out the kinks, one knot at a time. Unfortunately, though, despite his wonderful efforts, I began growing more tense under his ministrations as I became increasingly aware of his breath on my neck. And when he moved my shirt slightly off my shoulders to press his hands directly on my flesh, I was as taut as a guitar string.

So tense, he said softly as his fingers worked over my flesh, sending shivers down my spine. I took a deep breath and concentrated on relaxing, not wanting him to catch on to my arousal.

In a few seconds I was jelly in his hands, my shoulders growing slack as suddenly all the tension had coursed right down to my pussy which had began to flood in anticipation of further exploration by Patrick.

Pretty soon, though, Patrick finished, pulling my shirt back on my shoulders to signify the completion. Better? he asked, leaning down so close to my face we could kiss. Could . . .

Your turn, I piped up in a near squeaky voice, feeling slightly insecure about the suggestion.

Ohhh, he cooed as he sat down on the bed and waited for me to begin.

Um . . . why don t we take off your shirt. I think it will feel better skin on skin.

If Patrick had noticed the innuendo, he didn t show it. Instead, he just pulled his shirt over his head and sat back down. I began slowly and easily, not sure how hard he liked his massages, and applied more pressure as time went on. At no point did he stop me, so soon I was rubbing his flesh so hard my hands were leaving imprints in the smooth flesh of his bare back.

It feels good, he said as his body grew slack. Looking over his shoulder I could see his hard chest, and I wanted so to reach down and touch it and to kiss it.

After summoning up the courage to let go of my inhibitions, I leaned down and gently touched my lips to his neck, as my fingers still rested on his shoulders.

Oooh, you really are good at this, Patrick chuckled in response. Knowing then that it was all right, I continued to kiss his neck, starting with soft pecks, my lips barely touching his skin. His breathing grew ragged as I moved my mouth over his flesh, and he reached one hand up to rub the back of my neck as my kisses grew more passionate. I began sucking on his neck, working my way down to his chest.

In a quick fluid motion, Patrick and I switched positions, and soon I was down on the bed with Patrick on top of me, his lips pressing against mine with incendiary need.

So lost in his kisses, I was nearly unconscious as our foreplay ensued. I can t recall when our clothes came off, or when Patrick s fingers found their way to my burning sex. But every time I think of his hands on my pussy, I can recall the unbelievable sensation with such indelible precision, it is as if I am still experiencing it at this moment.

Patrick s fingers deftly massaged my labia, rubbing my pussy lips in tiny pent up desire releasing strokes that had me dripping with need. I could feel his cock against my thigh as he played with my pussy, and soon I was silently begging for it.

It didn t take much coaxing for my masseur to manipulate himself on top of me and slide his hard shaft inside my cunt. Although I had enjoyed his earlier handy efforts, the feel of his cock coddling and cajoling my pussy gave me a delicious thrill that not even the best massage parlor could provide.

Patrick bucked inside me in a slow, rhythmic motion, rotating his hips in a circle so his cock could come in contact with every nook and cranny of my pussy. I thrust upward, eager to have him in further, wanting him to take me harder and faster.

He teased me with his slow hula like motions for a little while longer, and then he went buck wild on my cunt, thrashing into me with unleashed fury. The slapping of his balls against my thighs, the sound of his heated breathing and the friction of his cock inside me all combined to send me into a state of orgasmic bliss that seemed to last a short century, yet couldn t have lasted long enough.

When Patrick finally collapsed on top of me, his seed christening my belly and legs, he kissed my cheeks and neck sweetly and said, So, can we start studying together on a daily basis?

I laughed out loud as I recalled that moment, and my dear husband looked at me quizzically, but didn t ask me to share my thoughts. Instead, he took me in his arms and brought me down on the bed, announcing that tonight he would be massaging me with his tongue. Mmm, what more could a girl want?

Ms. Victoria G.,

Cape May, New Jersey

I had been married less than two months when I landed a great job at a book publishing company. My initial joy was soon replaced by something akin to despair as my workload seemed to increase daily. I was the new kid on the block, so to speak, with everyone taking advantage of my eagerness to please and willingness to learn. I became glum and irritable, which of course was not missed by Sven, my wonderful, loving husband.

Sven is considerably older than I, twenty two years older, to be exact, but the difference in our ages was no hindrance to our falling in love. I love the idea of being taken care of by a mature, worldly wise older man, and Sven enjoys the high spirits and sense of adventure I bring to our relationship. Or use to bring. My new job was turning me into a grouch and a whiner. I d come home from work each day exhausted, often with a splitting headache and every bone in my body hurting. I was a wreck.

All right, young lady, my husband said one Friday night when he d had his fill of my antics. Tonight we re going to fix what s wrong with you. You just leave everything to me. I was more than willing to do just that but still curious when Sven steered me into the bathroom and told me to undress. As I did as directed, he drew me a bath, and minutes later, I let out a contented sigh as I settled into the warm, soothing, scented water, the bubbles tickling my chin.

Sven, kneeling at the side of the tub, soaped up the loofah sponge and proceeded to wash me from neck to toes, paying special attention, not surprisingly, to my breasts and pussy. By the time he had me stand so I could rinse off under the shower spray, I was not only feeling more relaxed, I was starting to get horny. Wrapping me up in a large fluffy towel, my husband escorted me into the bedroom and had me stretch out on our king sized bed.

Now for my famous massage, he said with his beautiful smile as he reached for my bottle of pink body lotion.

A Swedish massage, of course, I said, smiling back.

Sven told me to roll over and moments later I felt his strong hands working the lotion into my flesh, massaging out the tiredness in my neck and shoulders. Mmmm . . . I didn t know you were so good at this, I purred, as his hands trailed down my back and sides, rolling and pulling the flesh. And then he was kneading my asscheeks, his long fingers splayed as they pressed into the hillocks of flesh. I couldn t help but blush when with his thumbs he pried open my cheeks to expose my asshole.

Feeling better? my husband asked, as one of his thumbs grazed my small rear hole.

Much, I said softly into the fluffy blanket under me.

Sven continued his massage, working on my thighs now, kneading his way downward, past my knees to my calves. He even spent some time on my feet, rubbing each one vigorously, before asking me to turn over onto my back. As I rolled over, I became more conscious of my arousal. My pussy was damp, and it wasn t from the bath.

You should have been a masseur, I said lazily, as my husband began applying the body lotion to my chest, rubbing it into the flesh of my breasts and stomach. Avoiding my pussy, he worked his way down one leg and up the other, then reversed direction until both legs had gotten an equal amount of his attention. Now again he was between my thighs, stroking the flesh there, but teasingly avoiding my needy pussy.

Please, darling, I said softly. My pussy needs to be massaged too.

Sven chuckled at this and then, as my hips squirmed on the bed, one of his large hands cupped my pussy and he began to stroke it. Ooh, you give a wonderful massage, I cooed, closing my eyes as I savored the feel of his hand on my aroused pussy, two fingers now curling into my wet hole. When one of those fingers, shiny with my juices, began nudging at my asshole, seeking entry, I arched my hips off the bed and let out a soft moan of approval.

I think perhaps it s time my cock replaced my hands in this massage, my husband said. He got off the bed and shucked his terrycloth robe, permitting me to feast on what I had suspected was hiding under it a big, beautiful erection.

Sven was ready to fill me with his throbbing member, but before he could climb back onto the bed I sat up and took him into my mouth, massaging the shaft with my tongue. You give a pretty good massage yourself, my husband said throatily as I continued to suck on his bloated cock, at one point taking him so deep that his pubic hair was tickling my nostrils.

When he could take it no more, Sven urged me down onto my back and then immediately mounted me, his cock sliding effortlessly all the way inside my slick cunt. My arms and legs curled around him as he began fucking me in that sure, steady rhythm that I love so much, sometimes rotating his hips instead of thrusting them to make me feel thoroughly possessed by him.

The massage, him giving and me receiving, had turned us both on so much that, try as we might, we couldn t make the pleasure last. All of a sudden we were both groaning and announcing our orgasms, shuddering together as we came simultaneously.

Well now, do you feel any better after my famous massage? my husband asked with a knowing smile.

Smiling back, I told him that I would be expecting a massage every Friday night from now on. My very own Swedish massage.

Ms. Lois G.,

Minneapolis, Minnesota