11 comments/ 86002 views/ 10 favorites A Birthday Massage By: Compulsive_Fornicator It is your birthday so I have arranged a special private massage just for you. I give you a long slow kiss on my way out the door and tell you to enjoy yourself. You blush and give me another kiss and then head to the shower. I am heading downtown to enjoy a few drinks while you are being pampered. You take an extra long shower, and you shave everything just right. The hot water relaxes you, and by the time you turn the water off, you feel incredible The doorbell rings, and you hurry to put on a robe and head for the door. When you open the door, standing before you is a very handsome, athletic man with dark hair, and a deep sun tan. He has a gym bag slung over his shoulder, and he is carrying a portable massage table. You invite him in, and he asks where you would like him to set up. You tell him that the living room will be fine, and you close both the curtains and the pocket doors creating a cozy atmosphere. After he sets up his table, he slips off his jacket. He is wearing a pair of white work out pants, and a tank top. You take a moment to admire his strong arms with their sculpted biceps. He tells you to remove your robe, and to lay face down on his table. He covers your lower body with a towel, and asks what type of oil you would like him to use. With your head placed face down in the opening of the table, and your arms stretched down at your sides, he begins to rub the soothing oil into your skin. His strong hands work your tired muscles, and you let all of your troubles drift away. He tells you how soft your skin is as he presses firmly on your lower back just inches above your bottom. You thank him. He moves around the table in silence as his hands probe your body. You shiver as he runs both of his hands up your sides, and along the side of your breasts. He is standing at the end of the table where your head is resting, and he is taking long, slow strokes down your back, leaning over you as he does so. You feel his gold chain tickle your back when he reaches the lowest point. You prop your head up for a moment, and you notice that his loose fitting, white pants have a pointed bulge in the front. You feel your pussy moisten as you stare at his bulging crotch. You reach your arms out, and your extend them around his buttocks, squeezing it with your hands, and you pull him close to your face. He moans with pleasure as you kiss the hard bulge, and he tells you that you shouldn't do that. He doesn't stop you though, as you open your mouth and wrap it around his hard cock. The silky fabric feels good in your mouth. As you squeeze his cock in your mouth, you feel his hands travel beneath the towel and run down the crack of your bottom, resting ever so softly upon your very wet pussy. You moan with approval, and spread your legs invitingly, as his fingers begin to softly press into your wet hole. As he continues to explore your wetness, you pull down his pants and free his beautiful cock. With his cock now in front of your face, you open your mouth, and slowly take him deep inside, feeling the head touch the back of your throat. He begins to slowly thrust himself in and out of your mouth. He asks you to roll over onto your back, and he moves to stand at your feet. Once you have rolled over, he removes your towel and tosses it on the floor. He spreads your legs apart, and kisses your inner thighs. Eventually his kisses reach your throbbing wet pussy, and he begins to lick you, sliding his tongue all over your pussy. You let out a yelp, and place a hand on his head holding him firmly against your pussy. His tongue darts all over, and every now and then he slides it as deep as he can into your hole. You reach the point of orgasm, and you buck your hips wildly as you cum on his face. Your squirting is uncontrollable, and you spray his face and neck with your delicious fluid. Wiping his face with a towel, he asks you to get down from the table, and you do as he asks. You come to the end of the table, and he asks you to turn around and bend your upper body onto the table. He then stands behind you, and you feel his hard cock pressing into your hot, wet hole. You moan loudly as he aggressively thrusts into you and then begins to pound in and out of you. It hurts a little, but the feeling of his large, rigid cock invading your soft pussy excites you. He continues his thrusting until he can no longer hold on, and then he suddenly pulls his cock out of you and he groans a deep groan as you feel his steaming hot cum landing in spurts on your lower back and ass. When he has finished cumming, he slides his cock back into your pussy for a couple of final thrusts. A few more streams of hot fluid shoot from his cock into your steaming pussy. When he pulls out again, you raise yourself up from the table and turn around. You kiss him on his neck, and then you lower yourself onto your knees and take his softening cock into your mouth tasting his cum mixed with your own juices. He packs up his gear and leaves you with a final kiss behind your ear. You head for our bedroom where you lay on your stomach and run the events of the last hour through your head as you send me a text asking me to return home so that you can tell me all about it. As you lay there completely naked you feel his cum cooling on your back. It feels so good. You hear the front door open, and then footsteps on the stairs. When I reach the bedroom I see your beautiful body laying naked on our bed. Your round, sexy ass, and the soft white skin of your back make my cock twitch. You look over your shoulder and smile as I begin taking my pants off. I crawl into bed beside you and I place my right hand on your ass as I kiss you. Your skin is slick from the massage oil, and as I slide my hand from your beautiful ass up your back it runs through a cold pool of what I know is his cum, and I know that you received more than the massage that I had arranged. You kiss me hard, excited to know that I had just felt his fluid on your back. I ask you to tell me about your birthday present. You begin to tell me, but then pause. "Wait, I have an idea," you tell me as you get up from the bed. You pull open the bottom drawer of your dresser, and after rummaging around, you return to the bed holding a bottle of lube and your strap-on. You adjust the straps and then you open another drawer pulling out a pair of loose fitting pants which you pull on over top of the dildo strapped to your body. "I will show you as I tell you," I hear you say as you ask me to lay across the width of our bed. You place a towel over my buttocks, and you stand at the side of the bed where my head lay. You place another towel beside me, and you open a bottle of massage oil, returning it to a warm cup of water you had place on the nightstand. Rubbing your hands together to warm up the oil, you begin to recount the massage you had been given. Slowly but firmly, you run your hands up and down my back. Each time you slide your hands all the way down to my lower back, I feel the hard dildo rest on the back of my head. You tell me how as he was massaging you, you could feel his hard cock pressing against you. You tell me how wet that made you. You tell me that you had wished I was there to watch as he probed your body with his hands while his hard cock formed a large bulge in the front of his pants. You tell me how you could no longer resist and you had to wrap your mouth around his cock through the fabric of his pants. You begin working on my upper back, and I raise my head slightly and I see the tent formed in your own pants. I open my mouth, and wrap it around the head of the dildo. The texture of your pants on my tongue is intoxicating. The head of the dildo fills my mouth, and you press forward, moaning as you do so. "You shouldn't do that," you say to me with a wink as he had said to you. Like him, you don't stop me. Instead you remove the towel, place some lubricant on your fingers, and you run your fingers down the crack of my ass, your index finger finding my anus and slowly sliding inside. I moan as your finger presses into my ass. I moan more loudly when you insert a second finger. As you do this, I pull down your pants, and your strap-on dildo is in front of my face. I take hold of the shaft with one hand and guide it into my open mouth. You moan with delight as I take the full length into my mouth. Your fingers press deeper into me, and I moan loudly with the artificial cock in my mouth. You begin thrusting with your hips, and the dildo slides in and out of my mouth, pressing the opening of my throat with each thrust, and with each thrust you press your fingers deep into my ass. Occasionally I gag when you thrust deep into my mouth, and I imagine your sweet mouth wrapped around the stranger's cock. You pull back, and ask me to roll over. I do as you ask, and you get between my legs and start licking my balls as you tell me how he licked your soaking wet pussy. I moan as you take my cock in your mouth and I imagine his tongue on your beautiful wetness. I put a hand on your head and press you down. You take all of my cock into my mouth, and I begin to gently thrust with my hips. You suddenly stop, and say "Oh, not yet honey. We're not done yet." You roll a condom onto your silicone cock, and you ask me to stand at the end of the bed. You tell me to bend over as you squirt a large amount of lubricant onto your condom-covered dildo. I await in anticipation as you begin sliding the cock along the crack of my ass. I then feel an enormous amount of pressure as the head of the dildo begins pressing into my tight ass. I scream with delight as the head breaks through, and you moan with approval as you place both of your hands on my hips and you start pushing deeper into me. My ass burns, but the pain quickly subsides as you begin a slow, controlled motion, sliding in and out of me. You tell me how he took you from behind, sliding his rock hard cock in and out of your soaked pussy. Your pace quickens, and for a moment the pain returns as you aggressively fuck my tight hole. My groans become louder, and you tell me you love me as you force yourself deep into me. You reach around and begin stroking my hard cock with a lube-slicked hand. I don't last long, and you can tell I am ready to explode. You continue stroking me as you pull your strap-on out of me. I grunt loudly at that blissful moment when the head of the cock slips out of me, and my ass is no longer being stretched. With that loud grunt I begin cumming harder than I have ever cum before. You remove the condom from your dildo as you stroke my throbbing cock. Cupping your hand you allow my streams of cum to land on your hand. Your hand disappears, and I feel drips on my back as you let the warm, sticky white fluid fall just above my ass. I then feel your silicone cock sliding around in the thick fluid on my back. I stand up as you step back. I turn, and kiss you while my hand reaches down and wraps around your beautiful artificial cock. I can feel my cum covering it. You reach behind my back and run your fingers through the cum which is starting to slide down toward my ass. You scoop up a glob with your finger and you transfer it to the head of your dildo as you push me down so that I am kneeling in front of you with your cum covered strap-on in front of me. I open my mouth and begin licking the head, tasting my cum, and imagining you on your knees licking the combined fluids of he and you from his cock. With two hands you push my head downward forcing me to take the full length into my mouth. I can taste cum all the way down to the base of the shaft. I stand up and you kiss me as you begin removing your strap-on. We fall into bed together, kissing deeply. My hand finds its way to your pussy which is dripping wet. "Well now, what are we going to do about this?" I say to you with a wink. I kiss my way down to your pussy and as I begin licking your neglected pussy I can still taste him there. "Happy birthday baby," I say. "Oh thank you honey, my birthday present was fabulous, but showing you what happened was even better," you reply as I drive my tongue deep into you causing you to moan with delight. Happy birthday indeed. A Birthday Massage to Remember This is a true story of a recent event. Please excuse the British phrases since I have only lived in this country for a few mere years now. We are a couple in our early thirties, planning for a spring wedding. In short we are able to indulge ourselves in so far as our means allow. We work hard and it was long past due time for us to take a break. My good lady, Sara, is obviously not as fit as she was in the first flush of youth but is nevertheless quite well preserved; good looking, brunette, blue eyed, about 5 6 and reasonably shapely though, as is inevitable, carrying just a little more weight than she is best pleased with. I happen to think she is just gorgeous. There has been nothing particularly remarkable about our sex-life, though she has always had an extremely healthy appetite and has never been unafraid to experiment. Though outwardly extremely respectable, being a schoolteacher she really has to be, she has never been afraid to indulge in a bit of naughtiness, particularly in our earlier days. Whilst she had the figure for it, no encouragement was needed on my part for her to wear extremely short skirts with stockings and garters, and frequently without panties as well. These would be combined with sheer tops, without a bra, on occasion, but never without a jacket or similar so that she didn't actually show very much. She did get caught out the odd time, such as when we went to a club and, once we had paid and were making our way in, were told that jackets and coats were not allowed and had to be left in the cloakroom. Too late to back down, we both handed over our outerwear, and, with a face glowing bright red, she had to walk into the place with clearly visible nipples in a very erect state. A few drinks, combined with the low lighting, soon eased the embarrassment but the nipples stayed erect. She had gone out that night wearing a see-through and utterly miniscule thong; this was soon in my trouser pocket. She has never been afraid to admit that the feeling of vulnerability occasioned by being under-dressed in public was a massive turn on for her, but she has never shown the slightest desire to involve any third party. That night she was asked to dance by several men, but was somewhat careful not to let her skirt reveal that there was nothing underneath, though the stocking tops were occasionally visible. Neither did she flirt in any major way with any of them. Not that I would have minded of course, for, like a large percentage of the male population as evidenced by postings, I have often got excited by the thought of watching her perform for and with other men. I have never been able to raise the subject however, as even when it has been approached in the most peripheral way she has steadfastly ignored any invitation to proceed. For example, we were in an English bar in a Spanish holiday resort a few years ago and, as it was out of season, it was extremely quiet. The two of us were seated at a corner table at the back of the place, and I think only the owner and two other men were in. As the night wore on and the drink was consumed I began getting her to become more and more daring. She had gone out that night wearing a short wrap-around skirt and, would you believe, a totally not see-through shirt with a Winnie-the Pooh motif! Over the shirt she wore a short cardigan as, being in the autumn, it was somewhat cool in the evening and under it, and the skirt, absolutely nothing apart from a black garter belt and black seamed stockings. The whole ensemble was topped, or should that be bottomed, off with a pair of black stilettos. Now you will have to admit that there wasn't very much I could get her to remove - unless it was everything. I got close, and after a while I had her sitting there in just the shirt, which I made her undo. Nobody could see anything of course, but my dear school ma'am wife was, effectively, one garment short of nudity in a strange bar, in a foreign country, with three male strangers. The shirt was quite long so I told her I wanted it off, but she refused to remove it in the bar, and so I gave her back the skirt and cardigan, which she put on to visit the bathroom. She returned wearing the cardigan and skirt with the shirt in her hand, and pretty soon I had the skirt off her again so that she was sat there in just the short cardigan. As I have said, this sort of thing was extremely arousing for her, and, as was our practice on these occasions, she would finger herself quietly under the table and then let me lick the wetness off her fingers. There was always plenty to lick off. The owner and the other customers clocked something about what was happening, but apart from sly looks didn't intervene at all. When it got late on and time to leave she just put her skirt back on and we set off back to our accommodation. We hadn't got very far when she, of her own accord, removed the skirt and we walked the streets with her in just the now open cardigan, which only came down to her waist, and stockings. Such a display of bravery was tempered by the fact that it was about two in the morning and there was no one about! I did notice however a head pop out of the bar we had just left, and they must have seen her ample posterior, naked and framed by the garters, disappearing down the road. She even discarded the cardigan when we got very close to where we were staying; needless to say, the sex that night was explosive. Anyway, the point is we happened to wander into the same bar later on in the holiday, but in the day this time. The owner was very welcoming, and, after we had had a few drinks, he had a word in my ear "would my girlfriend and I like to stay late again some night?" He would ensure that the doors were locked and we could have free drinks, and there would be just him and two of his pals. It was very clear to me what was on his mind. I said I would ask Sara, and I did. She was absolutely not interested and said that we wouldn't visit the place again. We didn't. You will have then seen what I meant when I said I didn't see any chance of a spot of third party involvement in our relationship. Our sex life was, and remains, otherwise excellent; she has a large selection of toys, the favorite being a "Rampant Rabbit", and she is mightily aroused when I watch her using it still one of our favorite sex games. We have tried a touch of light bondage, with me tying her onto the bed and then, with the aid of a carefully placed mirror, making her watch as I closely inspect her before forcing her into a number of powerful orgasms usually with one or more of her toys. She has fairly long nipples, nothing too extraordinary, that she loves being attended to, particularly when I apply a set of clamps or rings to keep them erect, and can almost orgasm through manipulation of her breasts, which are, again, a good handful but nothing too amazing. Sara mostly keeps herself silky smooth down below, which I love, though occasionally sports a light stubble, and this, as with all the other things I have related, has only come about since we got together or so she tells me. I think she is being truthful because she did tell me that she was occasionally partial to anal, and I have found this to be the case though neither always nor often. Some of our most memorable sessions have involved me penetrating her anally whilst she simultaneously brings herself to a climax with one of her toys. As time has passed the short skirts have been consigned to the charity shops with the sheer tops likewise. However the garter belts and stockings still get the occasional airing, and it is not unknown for us to arrive home with her panties in my pocket. She still wears tiny and transparent thongs, but has also accumulated a number of pairs of French knickers. All in all then, a wonderful woman, who keeps me more than happy, but will not get involved in anything outside our relationship, or so I thought. The trigger for what happened was a girl's day out at one of those beauty spa establishments. She went with a number of her friends on one of those pampering sessions, and when she returned she told me that she had been given a head, shoulder and neck massage by one of the female therapists. She was wearing only a dressing gown and the masseuse, whilst attending to her shoulders and neck, had opened the gown a little and had oiled and manipulated her chest down to the top of her breasts. She said that she had really got turned on by this, and thought that we should try it. Sure enough the various oils were purchased, warmed and applied, and to say that this turned her on would be an understatement. Now I have no expertise in these matters, so, basically, what would happen is that she would lie on our bed, generally face down, and I would apply and rub in oil to her back, buttocks and legs. She would then turn over and I would do the same to her front, by which time she was highly aroused. I would pay special attention to her breasts and pubic area, and would generally make her orgasm a couple of times before mounting her and exploding inside her. We developed this into a game where I would pretend to be a visiting masseur and she would disappear into the bedroom to get ready. I told her to wear whatever clothes, or not, she would wear for a genuine masseur, and so usually she would lie there waiting in her bra and knickers. Whilst it was always easy to get her bra off without departing from our game too much, removing her panties, usually a thong required her to become involved unless I was to cut them off. Accordingly, she bought one that tied at the sides, and so her masseur could cunningly undo the knots and expose her completely without her knowing. This game became one of our favorites, and sometimes she would insert a vibrating egg into herself, and keep the control at hand, before putting on the thong. As I massaged away, I would know how far advanced she was by the distant buzzing that made itself apparent at some point. Whilst Sara was on her tummy I would sometimes pour a little oil between her buttocks so that it ran down over her anus and onto her vulva. This would always be greeted by moans of pleasure, and occasionally I would run a small vibrator up and down the oily path before gently penetrating her anally. As the vibrator would never stay in place without my keeping hold of it, we eventually purchased a butt-plug, which would usually remain in place throughout our session. As I say, these massage sessions became our favorite sex game, but I always thought that I wasn't very good at the actual massaging, which I knew she liked greatly in itself even though we used it as a form of extended foreplay. I therefore determined to arrange a special treat for her 33rd birthday, and, through the internet, found a travelling masseur that carried out home visits for females only. The website gave an e-mail address, so I wrote off explaining what I was planning; a special birthday massage for my wife and enquiring as to whether the masseur would be available on the date and at the time I wanted and the costs for travelling expenses etc. A reply quickly arrived, stating the date and time was no problem and that there would be no extra for travelling. I booked a two hour session, which included a before and after body scrub, and eagerly awaited the day. The website stated that in order for the therapy to be carried out, the female in question would be asked to remove all her clothes. There were also some photographs of the procedure being carried out, which, though in no way explicit, were quite a turn on if I imagined the naked woman being worked on was actually Sara. I don't need to tell anyone reading this that the thought of their girlfriend, naked, totally exposed and stretched out whilst a stranger oils her up and caresses her all over is a powerful turn on. There was one problem; the masseur would not allow anyone else in the room. I was thus faced with a dilemma; did I content myself with somehow listening through the wall and simply imagine what was going on in our bedroom where I envisaged the massage taking place or was there some way I could watch? The thought of listening whilst using my imagination was extremely tantalizing, but the thought of actually watching was even more so. Fortunately, technology came to the rescue in the shape of a relation who works in the CCTV and surveillance game. Without explaining the real reason, I managed to get him to supply me with three surveillance cameras and the associated computer card. One looked like a screw-in bulb, which would fit rather nicely into the overhead light in our room and give me a birds-eye view of the proceedings. The other two were conventional and rather small. I secreted one in the stem of the bedside lamp on my side of the bed, which would give me a diagonal side view, and the remaining one I hid in the airing cupboard door, which was in the wall facing the foot of the bed. I thus had a three-way view, which should allow me to capture most of the action. The signal from these cameras could be captured on my computer, which was downstairs in the study, and though the picture was hardly high-definition it was the best I was going to get. There was no means of focusing the bulb camera, but the other two could be pre-set. Obviously, once the session began no further adjustment was possible, so I set them up by laying a couple of pillows in the centre of the bed. I focused in on them by trial and error, just getting the best picture that I could. I would also be able to hear what was said as the two conventional cameras were equipped for sound. On the day of Sara's birthday, which happened to be a Saturday, I took her out for a leisurely lunch at a favorite place of ours, and of course she had a bottle of Champagne with her meal - I was driving so had to remain sober. I had arranged for the masseur, whose name was Dave, to arrive at about 5 pm, and so had to get the timing right so that we would arrive back home before he arrived. A pleasantly tipsy Sara and I arrived back at about 4 pm, and, as it was a nice day, I asked her if she would like another bottle cracking open and we could sit in the garden and have a glass each. She happily agreed, and at about 4:45 I asked her if she was in the mood for one of her massage sessions. She languidly stretched out in the garden chair and hitched her dress up to panty level, our garden is quite private, and gave gently rubbed herself whilst moaning appreciatively. Good, I said, because I have a surprise present for you and went inside and fetched a printout of the web page, which I handed to her. She nearly choked on her drink as she looked at the document. "Don't be so daft!"was the tenor of her response, at which I affected a disappointed look and explained that I had already booked him to come here today, and that he would be arriving in about five minutes. At this she sat up sharply, and I thought I was going to have to tell him that it was off. However, after a few moments she mellowed somewhat and said that if it was already arranged then she would go through with it. There was of course the fact that on no account would she strip off completely and if he wouldn't accept that then the appointment was off. As she was telling me this I heard a car pulling up outside and walked down the side of the house to see if it was Dave It was. I shook hands and we introduced ourselves, and I then invited him into the back garden to meet Sara who had rearranged her dress again and was still sipping a flute of champagne. She rose to greet him, looking rather embarrassed I must confess, and I asked him if he had time to have a drink. He explained that he always left plenty of time for his appointments, and could manage a small glass of the bubbly. We would have no doubt sat there somewhat awkwardly had he not been someone with a natural gift for putting people at ease, and after a couple of minutes the conversation was easy. He wasn't much to look at to be truthful certainly not one of those Greek-God types being about 5 7 tall and of medium, though fairly muscular build. He was, I would have said, in his mid to late thirties with grey hair and similar colored eyes. He was dressed in a track-suit and carried a sports-type hold all. Sara began asking him things like how long he had been doing this sort of thing, and how many times a week he performed a massage and so on. He was most professional, and explained to her that it was a job he liked doing and that he had many repeat clients. He also asked her if she had any problems with the appointment and she repeated what she had told me; none whatsoever, except that she would not strip naked, and would be keeping her clothes on whilst he worked on her. He said that there would really be no problem with this, as he could work around or through clothing. He explained however that I had booked a two-hour session, and so both a pre and post-massage body-scrub were included. He usually performed this in a shower or bath, he explained, but if Sara did not want to be naked in front of him then perhaps she would shower alone first, and then he would massage her. She replied that that sounded fine, and he suggested that she went for her shower, and gave him a call when she was ready. Meanwhile, he asked me, could he change into his working clothes in our downstairs bathroom. I of course said yes, and they both disappeared into the house. I heard water gushing down the shower drain, and then Dave appeared in his working clothes. He had on a lycra singlet and a pair of loose tracksuit bottoms, demonstrating that he was indeed quite well muscled in his upper body, though nothing like to the extent of, say, Sylvester Stallone. We sipped a little more of the champagne, and a few minutes later Sara appeared in her dressing gown, with her hair still up from showering. Dave asked if we would mind him going up to the room set aside for the massage, which I explained was our bedroom, and so I took him up and left Sara in the garden. He said he would be a few minutes since he had an electric heater in his bag to warm the oil which he would need to set up and so on, and that he would call her when he was ready. Returned to the garden and asked Sara if she was OK with all this and she said she was quite looking forward to it, though she would miss the sex that one of our massages always led to. I explained that after he had gone I would come up and we would then make passionate love together, and added that he would have done all the preliminary work. She looked at me quizzically at this and seemed to be about to say something, but Dave, who returned to say that he was ready, interrupted us. I said that I would be in the study, and we went back into the house. I couldn't get into the study quick enough, and by this time was sporting an erection that was becoming painful. I reckoned that if I had touched myself I would have had an immediate orgasm, so I tried to ignore it as I booted the computer. This took a few minutes, and by the time the pictures and sound appeared Sara was already laid tummy-down on the bed more or less in the middle where I had focused the cameras on a large towel or blanket. The picture was OK, but not of course of very good quality, and the sound was similar. I was of course flitting between the three cameras, but was recording the output from them all. True to her word, Sara was wearing a bra and panties and as I peered closely at the grainy picture my penis twitched mightily and, there was nothing I could do about it, I came in my pants; Sara was wearing her tie-sided thong, the one we had purchased so that I could expose here completely whilst massaging her without her knowing. Cursing mightily I rushed to our downstairs toilet and grabbed a handful of paper, before legging it back to the study. Whilst I tried to clean up the mess I watched the scene in our bedroom. Dave had appeared in the picture and had removed his tracksuit bottoms, revealing a pair of lycra cycle shorts to match the singlet I had seen earlier. His legs were as well developed as his torso, but what I could hardly miss, even on the quality of the picture I was watching, was that the tightness of the shorts revealed that he had either stuffed a pair of socks down the front, or he was hung like a donkey. A Birthday Massage to Remember He had a small bowl of what I assumed to be warm oil in his hands, and this he laid on one of the bedside tables before scooping a handful and began rubbing it into Sara's shoulders and upper back. He worked his way down, adding more oil as he went, passed over her bra strap and eventually reached the top of her thong. He seemed to pull this down a bit, rubbed in some oil and then replaced it. More oil was applied to her buttocks, and he rubbed this in gently. He then proceeded to apply it to her inner thighs and the backs of her legs. I could see his hands massaging the oil into the tops of her thighs, and, the first sound I had heard, he asked her if she would mind opening her legs a little wider so that he could work properly. She complied without a sound, and I switched to the camera directed at the foot of the bed and saw the gusset, such as it was, of her thong with Dave's hands mere millimeters away stroking and kneading. I watched as he poured a little more oil on her buttocks and could imagine, though couldn't see, it trickling down and soaking her most intimate parts. She must have felt it, as I saw her clench her buttocks and this, I knew, was a sure sign that she was getting aroused. After liberally coating her with oil, Dave delved into his bag and brought out an electrical massager. The humming sound when he switched it on was clearly audible over the system, and he started applying it to her shoulders. The whole time so far he had been kneeling on one side of her, but now he asked her if she would mind if he straddled her to massage her back. I didn't hear the answer, but it must have been in the affirmative as he swung his leg over her buttocks and began applying the massager to her back. I was still cleaning up the mess in my trousers, and indeed had them down by my knees, whilst I mopped away with the toilet paper, when I heard him ask if he could undo her bra as the massager was catching it. She must have grunted yes as he proceeded to undo it and lay the straps over to the sides. He spent about ten minutes on her back before shuffling down the bed, completely obscuring my view from the airing cupboard camera by the way, and applying the massager to her bottom and lower back. I was able to get a good view from above of this, and a view looking down the bed from the bedside lamp. He worked the massager over and around her buttocks and began moving it down to work on her inner thighs. Again he asked her to open her legs a little wider, but the only way she could do this was by almost getting up on her knees. This she did, and so was positioned with her head in the pillow and her rear sticking up in the air with her legs quite far apart and Dave kneeling between them. He applied the machine to the tops of her legs, then worked up and down to her knees and back with slow strokes, all the time staying on the inside of her thighs. As he reached the top I reckoned that he was letting the device rest for a few moments with the side touching her gusset. By this time all thoughts of cleaning myself up had gone, and I was bringing myself back to a fully erect state with movements as slow, but as equally deliberate I suspected, as those Dave was applying to Sara. As the massage went on, and we were about 20 minutes into the two hours, Sara was displaying the classic signs that I knew so well, of being highly aroused. Dave seemed to have given up much pretence of applying the massager to anywhere else but her most private places, and she in turn now had her bottom as high as she could get it, and her legs as wide apart as was possible, and was moving rhythmically with his movements. He occasionally poured more oil onto her bottom, as if he knew this was what she liked, though by now it must have been blindingly obvious, and the scrap of cloth that was the only thing protecting her from the eyes of this stranger must have been soaked through, though whether with oil alone I doubted. It was the camera on the bedside table that caught the movement of her arm; she reached down between her legs and as Dave started to withdraw the machine grasped it and clutched it to her body, whilst grinding herself into it. She must have been biting the pillow because I heard no sound, though from the spasms of her body I knew she had she was in the throes of a massive orgasm. She held the massager against herself for what seemed like an eternity before she slowly subsided and lay again face down on the bed. As she subsided I heard Dave, who had moved away from the bed, ask if she was alright, and this time I heard her say "yes". He explained that what had occurred often happened, but that it was better that it had, as the frontal massage was then usually more enjoyable. Did she want her front doing? Was his next question, and without replying Sara rolled over onto her back. She was flushed and breathing hard, and her hair, which she had put up for her shower, was in disarray. As she turned the bra rode up, completely exposing her breasts, and, to my delight and surprise she simply discarded it. I don't need to relate that I was rock-hard again after watching my school ma'am wife have a gigantic orgasm in front of someone she had met only about half an hour before, and once again I felt that more than the occasional rub would make me shoot again without any chance of control. Sara lay there quietly for a minute or two, getting her breath back as it were, whilst Dave seemed to be busying himself with his gear. After a short while he asked her if she wanted the rest of the massage, and she gave a great smile and lay back. He poured oil on her tummy and began massaging it in, though going no further down than the top of her thong, which must have been completely transparent by now with the soaking it had received. He did though massage up between her breasts, though as far as I could see didn't actually touch them though he did rub oil all around them and down her side. He was again sitting to one side of here as he did this, and again he asked if she minded him getting between her legs to oil them. She responded by bending her knees and drawing her legs up, allowing Dave to kneel in front of here and rub oil up and down her thighs again. He continued this for a few minutes before moving forward, spreading her legs wide and high, and began hand massaging her tummy. Again he went no further down than the top of that ridiculously flimsy rag that was the only thing between my darling's parts and his eyes, but he did venture onto her breasts. I have explained that she can almost, but not quite, orgasm through such manipulation, and, after asking her did she want him to continue, and receiving a nod, he began in earnest. Each breast was massaged and rubbed in his strong hands, and he rolled and pulled her nipples to an erectness that was obvious even on the rather poor pictures I was receiving. As she writhed under his obviously expert touch, I wondered what the heck he would do next. I didn't have to wait long as I clearly heard him ask her if she would like more treatment on her nipples. I was shocked, not so much at the answer, but at the way it was delivered, "oh yes please, please yes!", she said in a tone of voice that told me she was way out of it completely intoxicated by the sexual desire consuming her. He moved off the bed and returned with a thing that looked like a black light bulb, but was actually, as I recognized, a suction pump. He squeezed the air out, placed this on her left nipple, and allowed the suction to draw the nipple up into the tube of the device. He then slid a rubber ring off the tube so that it constricted the base of her nipple, keeping it engorged, and longer than it had ever been before by the look of it. He repeated the process with her right nipple, and then continued his massage. He continued on her breasts and nipples for what seemed like a long time, but was actually only about five minutes, before once again moving down the bed and kneeling back in-between her splayed legs and grinding hips. "Please continue the breast massage yourself", he suggested, though with a slightly different tone than that he had previously used, and Sara needed no urging. At this time, and at the sight of her pulling on her constricted nipples, I am not ashamed to say I could hold back no longer and once again spurted, though this time into some of the paper I had fetched. Dave began rubbing up and down the insides of her thighs with his hands, and I could clearly see that he was touching her through the gusset of her thong as he did so. I expected him to bring the electrical massager back into play but he didn't, he just massaged her inner thighs while she moaned and groaned and oscillated her hips, all the time playing with her breasts and distended nipples. The lingering at the top of her thighs began to get longer and, although I couldn't see totally clearly, he seemed to be rubbing her with the back of his hand. As with the back massage, it was she who initiated something that went a little further than before by reaching down and pulling her thong to one side, exposing her swollen and gaping labia to Dave. He responded by moving slightly backwards, much to her apparent disappointment, and asking her if she would like treatment in that area. Again the tone of his voice was different as he said that she had to ask him to do it, and her tone was almost pleading as she once again said "please!" Dave again left the bed and returned with a cup shaped device with what looked like a couple of tubes or wires hanging from it. He placed this over her vulva and began squeezing a rubber bulb attached to the end of one of the tubes. I had seen these devices on the internet, and knew that what he was doing was pumping the air out of the cup, and so literally sucking her sexual parts up into it. Sara looked down and arched her lower body up so that she could see her vulva enlarging and filling the pump. Dave seemed to release the vacuum partially a couple of times, occasioning gasps and moans from Sara and then he started a vibrating egg that was located at the top of the suction cup. Instead of just applying this to her clit he was forcing her clitoris onto the egg by suction. Although I couldn't see properly, I was imagining her vulva filling the cup, and her clit coming into contact with the egg for a few moments, before he released the vacuum a little. He kept this suction and release cycle up for a good fifteen minutes, bringing her to the brink of orgasm every time, before she begged him, literally begged him, to let her orgasm; "please, please, oh please!" she gasped, and was rewarded by him squeezing the bulb and watching as she bucked and writhed into the throes of a massive climax. Believe it or not, I was close to one myself, which is not bad going for a thirty three year old that had already spurted twice that day. However I was able to exercise a degree of control and so continued watching. The cup was released and removed from Sara's body, and it was clear that the pump had enlarged her hugely where it had been applied. Sara is not lippy but she has a fairly large, though not extraordinarily so, clitoris and it is rare indeed for this to protrude from under her hood. That it was now was starkly evident. The thought had not struck me at all up to that point, but when David asked her if she would like some internal manipulation, I realized that whilst he had reduced her to a state of sexual frenzy and utter abandon, she had not, yet, been penetrated by so much as a finger. Sara, apparently rendered speechless, could only nod as she lay back to recover a little. Her face and most of her body were deeply flushed, as was her vulva, which was still massively engorged, whilst the bands around her nipples had kept them darkly erect. She was glistening with sweat and oil, and between her legs I could see a large, dark, damp patch on the towel. Dave had moved off the bed again, and when he returned I could see he had a couple of toys in his hands. He once again knelt between her legs, which were now more or less flat and glanced up at her. He didn't say a word, indeed he didn't have to, as she drew her knees up to her chest, and splayed her legs wide open. Her thong was still damply lying to one side like a piece of string where her thigh joined her torso, and, again, without a word from him she reached down and released the sides before pulling it away. Whilst still gently, very gently, stroking my erection I leaned forward for a better look at what new implements Dave had brought to the scene. As I watched he began nudging at her entrance with a large, curved, G-Spot vibrator. This slid in without any hesitation and I could hear the low buzzing as he started it up. He still had something else laid out ready, but apart from that it looked like a conventional vibrator with a cord attached, I couldn't tell what it was. He worked the vibrator in and out of Sara for a while, searching for the optimum spot to concentrate on. That he had found it was evident from her gasp at a particular moment, and he worked on this spot for a little time while she flung her head back, and, with her mouth wide open, moaned and groaned to such an extent I didn't need the microphones to hear her. He wasn't going to just let her climax however, and having found the spot, and worked on it for a time he stopped the vibrator and removed it. Ignoring her protests, he took up the other toy, which, now he had picked it up, I saw was a fairly large butt-plug, and inserted this in her vagina. He worked it in and out for a few moments before withdrawing it. This puzzled me at first, but when he took it out I saw that it was glistening and well lubricated and I understood. He moved the tip of the plug down to her anus and began inserting it a little at a time, working it in and out but with it always getting further in until it was securely seated. I could also see that what I had thought was a cord was in fact a tube, with a bulb on the end, and I knew what that signified. Dave then reinserted the G-Spot vibrator into Sara and began working on her with that. Again she threw back her head and began almost howling, and when he started pumping on the bulb attached to the plug this increased to a new level. By this time I had to be careful not to touch my shaft at all. I was ready to burst again as I watched my Sara's vagina being probed and caressed with the curved toy, whilst her anus was being expanded and contracted as Dave pumped up and released the pressure on the plug. He kept her on the brink for what seemed like forever, until, as she moaned and mumbled incoherently he allowed her to undergo what was the most impressive female orgasm I have ever heard of, let alone witnessed. Her whole body convulsed and she thrashed the bed with her arms as she was taken somewhere she had never been before. The noise she made was like something from the zoo, and I could see liquid squirting out of her around the vibrator and enlarging the damp patch on the towel. I'm pleased to say that Sara and I achieved the ultimate in sexual compatibility at that moment as we had simultaneous orgasms, and despite it being my third of the day, something that I hadn't been able to achieve for a good few years, it was also incredible. Dave had left her lying exhausted, with the plug still in, and he moved out of my view. He returned with a glass, lifted her head up, and made her take a few sips of water. He then deflated the plug and removed it. He stood there looking at her as she slowly came back to earth, and that the front of his shorts were straining to contain a massive erection was blindingly obvious. I have already mentioned that he was obviously well endowed, but now he looked as if he would have given Ron Jeremy a run for his money. He knelt on the bed at Sara's side and began removing the rings from her nipples. As he did this she opened her eyes, which swiftly widened as she took in his aroused state, and the size of what was aroused. As I watched she reached out and began rubbing him through his shorts whilst staring at the massive elongated bulge. He completed removing the rings and asked her if there was anything else he could do for her. She nodded and, whilst continuing to rub him, said something in a low voice. I couldn't hear it, and either he couldn't either or he pretended not to. "Sorry", he said, "what do you want?" This time her voice came through loud and clear; "fuck me!" she said, "I need you to fuck me!" This plea from my girlfriend instantly sent the blood back to my penis, and as I watched I was once again sporting an erection almost as good as the last one. Dave moved out of view a little, and when he returned he had stripped off his shorts and singlet. He moved to the foot of the bed, climbed on between her legs, and she again lifted her knees until they were on her chest. He rolled on a condom and then inserted his monster dick into my Sara. He began slowly, thrusting in and out of her, before lifting her legs over his shoulders and then pounding her hard. He kept this up for a few minutes then, with her legs still over his shoulders, withdrew and began feeding his penis into her anus. Again he began slowly, before speeding up and pounding her there just as hard as he had in her other hole. As before he kept this up for a while, then withdrew and ravished her vaginally again. This cycle was repeated several times, before he withdrew completely and told her, yes told, not asked, her to get on all fours. She, without a murmur of complaint, instantly complied and he then repeated the process, vagina, anus, then vagina again, then anus, for ages. Eventually he tired of this, and told, again, told, her to sit on the edge of the bed. She did so and he stood on the floor in front of her, removed the condom and, with his hands on her head, shafted her mouth. I don't mean she sucked him, I mean he literally pounded her mouth just as hard as he had drilled her other holes. I could hear her gagging for it as several inches of rock-hard lance were pushed into her mouth and throat. I don't know how he had managed to control himself for so long, I was close to orgasm for an unprecedented fourth time, but eventually he let himself go. His semen spurted out of the corners of Sara's mouth as he thrust in and out, dribbling down her chin and onto her breasts. He seemed to go on for ages, but at last he withdrew, leaving her to either swallow or spit out what was in her mouth. She isn't really one for swallowing, though she has been known to, and so she let it drop down onto her chest. There was more semen in the study as I felt myself tip over the edge, and, for the first time since I was a teenager, managed a fourth ejaculation which was probably even more intense than those that had gone before. By the time I was able to refocus my eyes, I could hear the shower running in the en-suite bathroom, and Dave was leading Sara by the hand out of camera shot, and presumably into the shower. She could certainly do with one; she was glistening with oil, sweat and not a little semen and her hair was in complete disorder. As they disappeared from view I began to take in just what I looked like. There I was, sitting in a chair in my study with my trousers around my knees, and a mass of semen soaked toilet paper scattered around. My underpants and trousers were in urgent need of a wash following my first unforeseen orgasm, and I was sweating liberally. Whilst Dave was giving Sara her post massage body scrub I thought I could sneak upstairs and grab some clean clothes. I reached the door to our bedroom and listened. I could hear the sounds of the shower, so cracked open the door. Sure enough they were in the en-suite, the door of which was open, and so I tiptoed in and opened the drawer where my clothes were kept. Grabbing some clean pants and a pair of trousers I began to quietly withdraw, when I heard Sara give a moan from the bathroom. I took a peak through the open door. They were both in the shower cubicle, which apart from being only semi-transparent was steamed up a bit, so I couldn't see much. I could see enough however to tell me that Dave was hammering Sara again. He must have been on Viagra or something, as he was standing there with Sara's legs clasped around his back, bouncing her up and down on that monster penis of his as the water streamed down on them both. I watched for a few minutes, hearing her orgasm again just before he gave a groan and pumped her full of his seed. I somehow doubt he was wearing a condom in the shower before I departed quietly, sporting yet another erection. A Birthday Massage to Remember I got back to the study, changed my clothes, and threw the evidence of multiple- masturbation in the bin. I eventually heard someone coming down the stairs and went to meet them. It was Dave, looking fresh as a daisy and dressed as he had originally appeared at our house, carrying his bag of, what I now knew was his equipment. "All done", he said smilingly, "and your girlfriend is relaxing in bed after her treatment". Knowing what had occurred I could hardly look him in the eye, but I thanked him and paid him his fee before letting him out to his car. I went upstairs and entered our bedroom and Sara was indeed in bed, looking perfectly normal in her dressing gown and sipping a glass of water. I had half expected the room to be absolutely stinking of sex, but the windows were open and all I could smell was air freshener. "David was certainly a professional!" Sara was full of smiles as she ought to have been! - and I asked her, as casually as I could, how it had gone. She replied, equally casually, that it had been a very relaxing experience. I was mindful that I had earlier claimed that after he had gone I would come up and we would have a sex session. I was now pretty sure that, after having around ten days worth of orgasms in two hours, I would have struggled to perform, though by thinking of the scenes I had witnessed I reckoned I might well have. In any event, Sara said that although it had been a wonderful experience, the massage she had received hadn't put her in the mood in the same way as it did when I was the masseur! She then said she would get up and we could go into the garden for a drink or two, and as she took off her gown I noticed that she had on her big knickers, the type she wears for work - and a sensible bra. I didn't say anything, but noticed that when we went to bed that night, she was careful not to let me see her naked, and indeed kept the knickers on in bed, which is something she rarely does. I didn't comment on this, but the next morning when she went for her shower I pretended to be asleep and took a sly peek. What she hadn't wanted me to see was that her outer lips, whilst not as swollen as the day before, were still engorged and slightly parted, and her clitoral hood was protruding slightly. Her inner lips, not usually visible under normal circumstances, were also in evidence, but these symptoms faded after a day or so, when she did let me see her naked. Our life resumed as if nothing had happened, and indeed I was not supposed to know that anything had happened. I did occasionally ask Sara about her birthday present, but she would never let on that she had experienced anything other than a normal massage. When I asked her if she would like to repeat the experience, all I could get was a smile and a maybe. She was simply embarassed by what had transpired, but little did she know I was right there with her the whole time! And she had an amazing birthday and that is all that really matters! I still have the recording of Sara's massage, which I have mixed and reworked on a number of occasions. Viewing it always makes me rock hard, no matter how many times I see it and sometimes, when we are having sex, I will think of scenes, though I have to be careful as I usually erupt as soon as one of those visions enters my mind. I still haven't managed to get Sara into the state of complete abandon that Dave did, and I don't suppose I ever shall, but we still have an excellent sex life. We still use various toys, but when I, casually, suggested that we might try one of those vibrating pumps, she, equally casually, said she didn't like the sound of that. I also tried to entice her to visit a swinging club just for a look but she replied that as she was a teacher she couldn't go anywhere, or do anything, too disreputable. Dear me, I thought, if she only knew the lesson in respectability I had seen my little teacher getting!