The Four-Handed Massage That Fulfilled Our Fantasy

Tomás had been wearing a strange smile for weeks, the kind he gets when he’s hiding something and dying for me to find out. My husband knows that massages are my weakness, my one true indulgence, and that giving me one is a sure bet. What I didn’t know was that this time he hadn’t booked me just any massage.

—You have to let yourself be surprised —was all he told me in the car, one hand on my knee and his eyes on the road.

After so many years getting massages everywhere, I’d learned to tell the good from the mediocre, and I was always looking for something different, something that would make me feel it was worth it. That afternoon, as we climbed a narrow staircase to a second-floor place in the city center, I had no idea just how different it was going to be.

The place was small and warm. Dim light, earth-colored walls that made you want to lower your voice. It smelled woody and soft, without that cloying sweetness some places have. A woman was waiting for us by the door to the room.

—You must be Renata and Tomás —she said, holding out her hand to me—. I’m Adriana.

There was a calmness in her voice that put me at ease immediately. Her hair was tied up, her forearms were firm in the way of someone who works with her hands every day, and she had dark eyes that held your gaze a second longer than necessary.

—Renata —she went on, now in a professional tone—, today we’re going to do something special. Tomás is going to learn from me how to give you the massage, so he can repeat it at home whenever you feel like it. You don’t have to do anything. Just let yourself be cared for.

I glanced at Tomás out of the corner of my eye. So that was the secret. I found it amusing to picture him as an apprentice, him who always boasts of clumsy hands.

—Go into the room and take everything off —Adriana added—. No underwear, the oil will stain it. Lie face down and cover yourself with the sheet. We’ll be in in a minute.

I went in alone. The massage table was in the center, with a white sheet carefully folded on top. I took off my clothes slowly, feeling the cool air on my skin, and lay face down. I covered myself up to the waist. I had that familiar tingle of anticipation in my stomach, the one that always comes before a good massage, but this time there was something more, a different current I couldn’t put a name to.

I heard the door. I heard the two sets of footsteps. And above all, I heard Adriana’s voice explaining to Tomás where to stand, how to place his hands, how to breathe to follow the movement.

—Warm the oil in your hands first, never pour it cold onto the skin —she told him.

The first drops landed on my back with a warm shiver. It was Adriana’s hands, I knew at once: firm, sure, gliding from my shoulders all the way down my back in one long stroke. A few seconds later Tomás’s hands joined in, imitating the same route, clumsier, more cautious, as if he were afraid of breaking me.

—More pressure here —she whispered—. That’s it. Follow the line of the muscle. Listen to how she breathes.

I closed my eyes and decided to give myself over completely. A four-handed massage is something you have to savor, not analyze.

I could feel perfectly well the difference between one pair of hands and the other. Hers, expert and enveloping; his, learning, gaining confidence little by little. It was a strange combination, almost hypnotic, and it was undoing me centimeter by centimeter. And every time Adriana corrected Tomás, I heard her move closer to him, felt how the weight of both of them leaned a little farther over the table.

I started imagining things. How they would look at each other over my back. How their arms would brush by accident as they crossed their hands over my skin. I shouldn’t be thinking about this, I told myself, and yet I couldn’t stop. I could feel my nipples swelling against the table and a warm thread starting to run between my thighs, without permission, without warning.

The atmosphere changed without anyone quite deciding it. Adriana’s instructions grew softer, more whispered, until they became almost a murmur. Tomás’s hands stopped hesitating. Hers became slower, longer, as if this had stopped being a lesson and had turned into an intimate choreography around my body.

They covered my back again and moved down toward my legs. Adriana pulled the sheet back until the lower part of my back was barely covered, exposing the rest. The air on my bare skin raised goosebumps. I felt all four thumbs sink into my ass, kneading it open just a little, and how, between their fingers, there slid in an unintended fleeting brush over the crack of my ass that made me press my lips against the table to keep from moaning.

At one point she leaned toward him to guide his hands. I couldn’t see a thing, my face buried in the opening of the table, but I felt everything. I felt their two bodies drawing closer, the four hands crossing over my thighs, Tomás’s breathing changing rhythm all at once. And then I knew, without seeing it: their mouths had met. A short, soft kiss, the brush of two tongues looking for each other for the first time. I heard them smile.

—Very good —Adriana murmured, very close to him—. You’re doing it perfectly.

I smiled against the table without being able to help it. He is doing it perfectly, all right. I imagined the scene I couldn’t see and felt the heat gather inside me, thick, urgent. The air in the room no longer smelled only of oil and calm: there was a sweet, electric tension in it that made me shiver with every touch. My cunt was getting soaked; I could feel the wetness sliding down the insides of my thighs, mixing with the oil, and I didn’t care if they saw it.

—I want you to focus now on what Renata is feeling —she told him, lowering her voice even more—. Not just the muscle. On how her body responds when you touch it.

And respond it did. Every time one of their hands crossed over the other’s on my skin, a sigh escaped me that I no longer bothered trying to hide. We’d spent months talking about this in bed after fucking, toying with the idea without ever daring to take the step. Now we were living it, and reality was far more intense than anything we had imagined in the dark.

I thought about how strange it all was: the same man with whom I had shared my life for years, now learning from another woman how to touch me, and the two of them focused only on my pleasure. There was no jealousy, no discomfort, only a new complicity that turned me on even more.

The four hands started moving up my thighs. They kneaded my ass firmly, parting it now without pretense, and I felt Adriana’s thumb deliberately brush the edge of my cunt from behind, just for a second, enough to make it clear she knew perfectly well how wet I was. Tomás imitated her, more timidly, and I felt his middle finger slide along my soaked crack to my clit and back, dragging my juices to my asshole. A long moan slipped out of me. When they reached the inner thighs, the need to have fingers inside me for real became almost unbearable. I clenched my teeth to keep from asking out loud.

—Turn over —said Adriana.

I obeyed slowly, with the feeling that I was opening much more than my eyes. Now on my back, I could finally see their faces. Tomás had dilated pupils and flushed cheeks; the bulge of his cock was visible against his trousers, impossible to hide. Adriana held my gaze with a serenity that was almost a challenge. They went back to my legs, this time from the front, moving upward unhurriedly.

When their hands reached the top, they paused for a moment. Adriana must have noticed how hot I was, because she brushed my cunt with her fingertips, slowly, measuring my reaction, and I felt two of her fingers immediately get wet up to the second knuckle. Tomás looked at me, silently asking permission. We had always fantasized about something like this, the two of us, in bed, in low voices, never quite believing we’d actually make it happen. I held his gaze and, without a word, told him to continue.

***

They started touching me at the same time. Adriana opened the lips of my cunt with two fingers, exposing me all the way down, and Tomás began drawing slow circles over my clit with his thumb, looking me in the face so he wouldn’t miss a single one of my reactions. I arched my back. Every caress pulled a moan from me that I no longer tried to hold back. Adriana slid her middle finger in very slowly, to the knuckle, and curled it upward, looking for that spot that makes your legs shake. She found it at once.

—She’s dying to be fucked —she told Tomás, never stopping pumping her finger—. Look at her. Her cunt is dripping. See how it swallows it?

—Fuck —he muttered, his voice rough—. She’s gorgeous like this.

—Then tell her. Tell her how much of a slut she gets for you.

—Look at you, Renata —he whispered, bringing his mouth to my ear—. Look at yourself, spread open for us. You’re filthy, my love.

I nodded wordlessly, biting my lip, pressing my hips against Adriana’s hand. She slid in a second finger and increased the pace while Tomás pinched one of my nipples with his other hand, twisting it just enough to make the tip hard as stone. The mix of the two hands, hers inside and his outside, had me on the brink within seconds.

—Not yet —Adriana said, sensing it—. Hold it.

She pulled out her fingers, shining, and brought them to her mouth. She sucked them slowly, never taking her eyes off me, then ran them over Tomás’s lips, and he licked them with his eyes closed as if it were the most delicious thing he had ever tasted.

She spread my legs gently, leaving me completely exposed on the table, with my feet resting on the improvised footrests she made with her own hands. She nudged Tomás aside with her hip, leaned in, and started eating my cunt with an avidity I hadn’t expected. Her tongue traveled all over me, nonstop, from bottom to top, entering me for an instant and then coming out to suck my clit with her lips. I clung to the edge of the table because I felt myself coming apart. I drove my heels into her back and she moaned against me, sending vibrations straight into the bone.

With her right hand she reached for Tomás’s body. She found it, and he understood at once what she wanted: he unfastened his pants, pulled his clothes down, and came closer with his cock already hard, pointing at the ceiling, the tip shining. Adriana grabbed him by the base and started stroking him slowly, pulling the foreskin down well, while she kept her mouth pressed to me, both things at once, never losing the rhythm of either. She licked the head without letting go of me, took it into her mouth halfway, pulled it out with a little smack, and went back down between my legs. She repeated the circuit three, four times: my cunt, my husband’s cock, my cunt again, sharing us as if we were one dish.

—Put it in her mouth —Tomás asked me, his voice trembling.

Adriana sat up and climbed onto the table, straddling my face, never stopping to suck him off. I gripped her hips and buried my tongue in her cunt, which tasted warm and salty, and felt her thighs tightening around my head. Above me I heard her mouth sliding over Tomás’s cock, the wet sounds she made sucking him to the hilt, her muffled moans when I passed my tongue over her clit. He, up top, leaned down and slid three fingers into my cunt while Adriana sucked him, so the four of us became one single circuit of mouths and hands.

She didn’t last long. She came over my face with a long spasm, pressing my legs against my ears, and soaked me from top to bottom. I didn’t stop licking her until she herself pulled away, laughing softly, her eyes bright.

—Now you —she said, changing position, kneeling again between my legs.

Tomás climbed onto the table and got behind me, lifting me a little until I was half sitting, supported against his chest, my back pressed to him and my legs spread wide open. He kissed my neck, stroked my breasts with that mix of desire and tenderness only he knows, and pinched my nipples while Adriana went back to eating me. I had one hand on my husband’s nape and the other tangled in her hair, holding them both, feeling myself at the center of something that only a short while earlier had been just a fantasy whispered in the dark of our bedroom.

Tomás’s cock was banging against the lower part of my back, hard, wet with Adriana’s saliva. I reached a hand down and grabbed him from behind, jerking him clumsily against my own ass while she licked me below. He moaned in my ear, bit my earlobe, told me filthy things that made me press my hips harder against her mouth.

—I’m going to come —I whispered, no longer able to hold myself back.

—Wait —said Adriana, lifting her face, her chin shining—. Let him fuck you first. Just a little. I want to see it.

Tomás didn’t need to be told twice. He laid me back down again, positioned himself between my legs, and drove into me in one thrust, all the way to the hilt. I screamed against his mouth. Adriana moved to one side, ran a hand down his back to set the pace, and with the other rubbed my clit while he fucked me. The three of us were fucking in a way: him inside me, her touching both of us, guiding his hips, whispering things in his ear that I couldn’t make out but that made him drive harder.

The pleasure kept building in waves. When I felt I was about to explode, I pulled Tomás toward me.

—I want you to finish in my mouth —I asked him, almost out of breath—. Pull out and come in my mouth.

He loves that, and I love coming that way. I sat up just enough to reach him while Adriana stayed between my legs, now slipping three fingers into me and sucking my clit with her whole mouth. Tomás pulled his shining cock out of me and put it to my lips. I swallowed him whole, tasting myself, while the orgasm shook me completely, long, intense, so strong that even she looked up, surprised, her fingers still inside, feeling me clench around them.

Tomás didn’t last much longer. I felt his cock swell in my mouth, his balls tighten against my chin, and suddenly he started to come with a guttural groan that came from deep in his guts. The first spurt filled my mouth, thick and hot; the second ran out the corner of my lips down to my chin. I swallowed what I could and let the rest slide down my mouth. Adriana, without saying anything, came closer and licked the leftovers from my chin with the tip of her tongue, very slowly, before kissing Tomás on the mouth, sharing what was left.

The three of us stayed still for a moment, catching our breath, skin shining with oil, saliva, cum, and sweat.

Adriana stepped back, looked at us with a calm smile, as if she had just finished the most routine session in the world.

—There are towels there for you to clean yourselves up —she said, tucking a loose lock of hair back into place—. I’ll wait for you outside and we’ll toast with a glass of champagne.

She closed the door behind her as she left. Tomás and I looked at each other, still breathless, and burst out laughing nervously, that laugh of people who have just crossed a line and discover that on the other side there is only pleasure.

—Happy unbirthday —he told me, kissing my forehead.

And that was how we finally fulfilled our fantasy: with a four-handed massage that ended up being our first threesome, the gift neither of us had dared ask for out loud.