Couple’s Massage, A massage therapist unlocks something in her college crush
Saturday, May 17th – 11:08am
“Babe, I’m going for a massage this afternoon at 1:30. Should be gone for about an hour-and-a-half.”
My wife Kristen had been complaining about some pain in her neck pain since she started working from home. She’d asked her boss for a laptop stand and a separate keyboard so her posture was better but the company hadn’t come through yet. Cheapskates.
“For your neck? Going to Lisa for that?”
“Yup. She doesn’t work from home anymore though – she’s at this place called Bodyworks now. Y’know, in that little plaza at Capital Avenue and Brookside? They do massage, chiropractic, all that kind of stuff.”
“Yup. Lisa just got her RMT license too, which is kinda nice because I can run it through insurance now.”
“Yeah – Registered Massage Therapy. Have you never been for a massage before?”
“Nope. I’m happy with your back rubs.”
“Ha-ha. You should go one day. Even if you don’t have any sore spots or whatever it’s just nice to get your muscles all relaxed and loose.”
“Sure, I’ll check it out.” I probably wouldn’t but it’s nice to be nice.
I went back to flicking through my options on Netflix while Kristen continued puttering around the house. I settled on one of the myriad true crime docs available and watched the first episode (my guess is that the husband did it – it’s always the husband) before peeling myself off the sofa and heading into the garage. Time to mow the lawn.
I started out in the front yard. As I was mowing, I saw Kristen exit the house. She blew me a kiss and waved as she got in her car. I looked at my watch – it was coming up on 1pm, so I assumed she was off to her appointment. After moving around to the back and finishing up the yard there, I returned the mower to the garage and headed back inside. I threw my sweaty clothes into the hamper and jumped in the shower. How long did Kristen say she’d be gone for? 90 minutes? She’d been gone for maybe 40… still plenty of time to “take care of myself” under the warm water. I soaped myself up, taking extra time on my cock until it was at full mast. Closing my eyes, I pulled one of my favourite fantasies from the ol’ spank bank: my celebrity crush (no, I’m not telling you who it is, dear reader – feel free to substitute your own though!) standing behind me, tits pressed into my back while she reached around and jerked me off while talking dirty to me. It didn’t take long before I came, firing ropes towards the drain and watching as the water washed them away.
I had a thing for handjobs. A lot of my self-pleasuring involved fantasies where I cum with some pretty little thing’s hand wrapped around me. They just weren’t really part of my sex life. Kristen typically stroked me a bit during foreplay but I always finished inside of her. And I certainly wasn’t complaining – I was very satisfied with our sex life overall. Despite my affinity for handjobs I harboured a feeling that they were “beneath us”, something better-suited to young lovers fumbling in the backseat or to girls who wanted to please their boyfriends but weren’t ready for sex yet. I’d thought about asking for them but didn’t want to seem selfish or juvenile. This was definitely my hang-up – I’m sure Kristen would be willing if I just asked. I’d try to get over that.
Finishing up my shower, I towelled off and pulled on a t-shirt and some sweatpants. Something about going commando in sweats just screams “weekend” to me and I must confess that I like the feeling. I contemplated grabbing a power nap but decided to be an adult and finish cleaning up around the house. Kristen and always I tried our best to have the place all tidy and organized for Sundays – it let us take the day off, and we felt good going into the new work week.
I had just finished clearing the fridge of whatever food had expired during the week when I heard Kristen came through the door. “Hey sweetie. How was the massage?” She came into the kitchen and leaned against the counter, letting out a long sigh. She had a huge grin on her face.