The Massage Fantasy I Accepted with a Couple

My name is Natalia. I’m self-employed, giving body treatments and massages in clients’ homes, and for some time now I’ve also been seeing clients in a small studio I set up with a great deal of effort on the outskirts of the city. I’ve always been discreet with my clients, professional with my hands, and quite clear about what I offer. I’m also a curious woman, the sort who doesn’t deny what she likes or play innocent when desire appears right in front of her.

What I’m going to tell you happened a few months ago, when a new client wrote to schedule several slimming sessions. Her name was Lorena, a mature woman, self-assured, the kind who walks into a place and makes everyone look at her without asking permission. From the very first appointment I understood that she wasn’t shy, but I never imagined how far that story would take me.

Her house was spacious, elegant, and quiet. She received me wearing a beige silk robe and holding a glass of iced water, as if she had known me before. During the first few sessions everything was normal: massages, cream, equipment, and the light conversation that arises naturally when you spend an entire hour touching another person’s body without sexual intent, purely professionally.

But something changed at the third appointment. Lorena was more talkative, more focused on me, more observant. She asked whether I also worked with men, whether I had given relaxing massages to couples, and whether I had ever treated someone who was overly sensitive to touch.

I answered naturally. I told her yes, that I had male clients, that I offered relaxing and deep-tissue massages, as well as a more sensual line for people who requested it in advance. I didn’t dwell on it, because those kinds of questions sometimes came from simple curiosity. Even so, I noticed a spark in her eyes that hadn’t been there on the previous days.

When I finished her session, she told me she wanted to give her husband a massage the following week. I agreed without a problem. It was just another service, an extra hour, good pay. Nothing strange. Or so I thought.

The next time I arrived at dusk. Lorena opened the door with a slow smile, as though she had been waiting all day for that moment. She led me to the room where I usually treated her, but that evening the massage table had been placed in the center and candles were burning on a shelf. The air smelled of vanilla oil and sandalwood.

“My husband is coming,” she told me. “Today I want him to really relax.”

A minute later Mauro appeared. Tall, broad-shouldered, with a trimmed beard—the sort of man who seemed accustomed to giving orders but who moved through that room with an almost shy reserve. He greeted me politely and let his wife guide him to the table.

Lorena didn’t leave. That already struck me as unusual.

“Relax,” she told him. “Natalia knows exactly what she’s doing.”

He took off his robe and was completely naked before lying facedown. I followed my usual routine: deep breathing, warm oil in my palms, pressure on his neck and shoulders, long strokes down his back. Mauro’s body was tense, hard as a board, and little by little I loosened his muscles with slow, firm movements.

Lorena stayed seated in a chair, legs crossed, watching every detail. At first I thought she merely wanted to learn or satisfy her curiosity. Then I saw her part her thighs slightly beneath the robe and understood that her interest was something else.

I continued working in silence, moving down his back, sides, buttocks, and thighs. Mauro breathed more deeply whenever my hands pressed firmly near his waist. I felt Lorena’s gaze fixed on me and began to get aroused, though I tried to keep a cool head.

When I asked Mauro to turn over, I saw that he was already half-hard. Nothing extreme yet, but definitely an obvious reaction. He seemed embarrassed.

“Sorry,” he murmured.

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Lorena said before I could, with a calmness that unsettled me. “Keep going, Natalia.”

I massaged his chest, abdomen, and arms. His erection grew little by little, pushing upward without Mauro trying to hide it. At that point there was no need to pretend this was still an ordinary relaxing massage. The air had grown thicker. The tension was almost tangible.

Then Lorena rose from the chair, loosened the belt of her robe, and let it fall to the floor. She was wearing nothing underneath. She had a spectacular body, full and firm, with large breasts and hard nipples. Her pussy, shaved except for a narrow strip of hair, gleamed wetly between her thighs.

She approached the table slowly, stood beside me, and spoke almost into my ear.

“I want to ask you something, but I’d rather you answered honestly.”

I swallowed.

“That depends what it is.”

“Do you really offer tantric massage? Not one dressed up with pretty words. I mean a complete one, the kind that arouses you, takes you to the limit, makes you lose control.”

I looked her in the eyes before answering.

“Yes. But only when everything is clear and everyone wants to be there.”

Lorena smiled. Mauro was still lying there, completely hard now, staring at the ceiling with his jaw clenched.

“Then it’s clear,” she said. “I want to watch. He’s wanted it ever since I told him about you. And you… well, you’re wet too. I can tell by your face.”

I felt heat rise in my cheeks. She had caught me effortlessly. The truth was, I had been aroused for a while. My breathing betrayed me, and my nipples showed through my blouse.

“If any of us wants to stop at any point, we stop,” I said.

“We’re not going to stop,” she replied confidently.

***

I went to the bathroom and came back with another towel and a thicker oil. I closed the door. This time I wasn’t going to pretend to be coldly professional, because what was about to happen already belonged to another realm.

I took off my blouse, then my pants, and was left wearing only a dark thong. Lorena looked me up and down with open hunger, without disguising it. Mauro lifted his head slightly when he sensed the change in the atmosphere, and when his eyes fixed on my body he almost moaned.

I climbed onto the table on my knees and began sliding over him with oil, chest against chest, belly against belly, letting my breasts brush his torso and my hips move slowly over his thighs. His cock was truly hard, thick and tense, pointing toward his abdomen.

“Fuck…” escaped him.

Lorena moved to his side and stroked his hair.

“That’s it, darling. Enjoy it.”

I continued with long movements, using my whole body. My breasts brushed his nipples, my belly warmed his cock without touching it directly, and my hands moved along his sides with just enough pressure to make him tremble. This wasn’t a relaxing massage. It was a slow, measured provocation, calculated to bring him to the edge.

I noticed Lorena touching herself. I glanced over and saw two fingers inside her pussy, opening herself as she watched me move over her husband. The sight aroused me even more.

“I want you to jerk him off,” she said, without removing her fingers from her body. “I want to see him hard in your hands. But don’t let him come.”

I nodded and climbed down from the table. I positioned myself beside Mauro’s hip and wrapped my oil-slick hand around his cock. He let out a rough moan, the kind that escapes without permission. I began slowly, my thumb brushing the wet head while my fingers squeezed the shaft in a steady rhythm.

His cock throbbed in my palm. It was heavy, hot, increasingly slippery. I massaged his balls, moved down over his perineum, then came back up and drew another moan from him. Mauro spread his legs instinctively and breathed through his mouth.

“Look at me,” Lorena ordered.

He turned his face toward her while I continued jerking him off. Lorena knelt beside him and slid three fingers into her pussy, soaking them in front of him. Then she showed them to me.

“This is what you do to me,” she said. “Keep going.”

I tightened my grip a little and sped up. The tip of his cock was red, shining with oil and clear fluid. He was going crazy. I could tell by the way he tensed his abdomen and tried to thrust his hips against my hand.

“Don’t come,” I told him, breathing hard myself by then.

“I can’t take any more…”

“Yes, you can,” Lorena cut in. “You come when I say.”

That sentence completely set me on fire. There was something brutally exciting about seeing them like that: her in command, him held at the edge, and me in the middle, being the instrument while enjoying it as my own fantasy at the same time.

I leaned down and licked the tip of his cock. Just a brush of my tongue. Mauro gave a full-body spasm. Then I took it into my mouth, not very deep at first, only to wet it further, circling the head with my lips and sucking gently while my hand continued working the base.

Lorena moaned when she saw us. She squeezed one nipple hard, then came closer until she was standing in front of me.

“I want to feel that mouth on my pussy afterward,” she told me.

I held her gaze as I pulled his cock from my mouth with a string of saliva.

“You will.”

I returned to Mauro, this time taking him deeper. His cock filled my mouth and part of my throat. He gripped the edge of the table with both hands so he wouldn’t grab me. I sucked rhythmically, moving up and down while my tongue traced the vein along his shaft. Each of his breaths was shorter. Each moan dirtier.

“I’m going to come,” he said in a broken voice.

I stopped abruptly and squeezed the base with my hand. His body arched, frustrated and aroused at once. Lorena smiled as if she were enjoying a delicious punishment.

“Now it’s my turn,” she said.

***

Lorena lay down on the table and spread her legs shamelessly. Her pussy was very wet, gleaming and swollen with arousal. The smell hit me as I approached: hot, sharp, alive. I knelt between her thighs while Mauro, now standing beside the table, tried to catch his breath with his cock still hard and trembling with need.

I began by kissing the insides of her thighs. She grabbed my hair from the first second. Not violently, but urgently.

“Don’t tease me so much,” she said. “Eat my pussy already.”

I obeyed. I parted her lips with my fingers and ran my tongue from the bottom up to her clitoris, slowly and firmly, tasting all of her. Lorena let out a deep moan and lifted her hips. I repeated the movement, then pushed my tongue inside while rubbing her clitoris with my nose and upper lip. She was soaked, truly soaked. She drenched my entire mouth.

“Fuck… yes… like that…”

Mauro watched us as if hypnotized. His hand stroked his own cock lightly, without really masturbating. Lorena pointed at him without stopping her moans.

“Come closer. I want you to watch me eat her.”

He moved beside my shoulder, and I saw his cock inches from my face while I continued licking his wife. The scene was too much not to arouse me further. I inserted two fingers into Lorena’s pussy and began spreading them inside her, feeling her walls contract around them. I sucked her clitoris eagerly, and she squeezed my head between her thighs.

“I’m going to come…”

“Not yet,” Mauro said, surprising me.

Lorena opened her eyes and smiled defiantly.

“Then make yourself useful.”

Mauro walked around the table and positioned himself behind her. I kept licking her while he caressed her breasts, squeezed her nipples, then moved his hand down her belly until he found my fingers entering and leaving her pussy. For a few seconds, his hands and mine mingled between her legs.

The three of us filled the room with our breathing. I was already dripping inside my thong. The rubbing against my thighs drove me crazy, but I didn’t want to pull away from Lorena because she tasted so good I was becoming addicted to her.

Then she took me by the wrist and forced me to lift my face.

“Take that off.”

She meant my thong. I pulled it down slowly without looking away from her. Mauro looked between my legs and let out a barely whispered “shit.” I was wet, my pussy open and gleaming, my legs trembling slightly from the accumulated arousal.

Lorena reached between my thighs and touched me with two fingers. She barely brushed my clitoris before putting them in her mouth and sucking them.

“I knew you were like this because of us,” she said.

I leaned over her and kissed her. It was a real kiss, deep, tasting of her own pussy mixed with my saliva. We moved against each other, breasts crushed together, legs half tangled, while Mauro watched us with his cock fully erect.

Lorena gently pushed me so I lay down beside her. Then she lowered her head between my legs and opened me with both hands. When I felt her tongue on my pussy, my body almost folded in half. She didn’t start gently. She licked me hungrily, broad and direct, like a woman who knew exactly where and how to inflict the good kind of pain.

“Ah… fuck…” I moaned, unable to hold back.

Her tongue worked my clitoris while one of her fingers penetrated me all the way. Then she inserted two, curling them, and lightly bit the inside of my thigh. I grabbed her hair just as she had grabbed mine and began moving against her mouth.

Mauro moved closer. Lorena lifted her head for a second and told him:

“Now. Fuck me while you make her come.”

***

The words made me shudder.

Mauro positioned himself behind Lorena while she remained between my legs. I saw her arch her back when she felt the tip of his cock at her entrance. She was so wet that he barely had to push. He entered in one slow but deep thrust, and they both moaned at the same time.

My face was only inches from hers. I could see every expression, every spasm, every small change in her breathing. Lorena lowered her mouth to my pussy again and began sucking me harder in time with her husband’s thrusts.

The sound of fucking filled the room almost immediately: skin against skin, broken breaths, filthy moans. Mauro took her with restrained force, gripping her hip as he sank all the way inside her again and again. From where I was, I could see his cock entering and leaving Lorena’s pussy, gleaming and wet, stretching her lips with every thrust.

She pulled away from my pussy only to say, panting:

“Come here. Suck me while he fucks me.”

She didn’t need to repeat herself. I knelt between her spread legs, now at the edge of the table, and brought my mouth right to the place where Mauro’s cock entered and left her. I licked Lorena’s clitoris between thrusts, sucking it when he withdrew and moving aside just enough when he thrust back in. It was a wet, disorderly, deliciously animal madness.

“That’s it… that’s it, don’t stop…” she said, almost voiceless.

Mauro began fucking her faster. The muscles in his abdomen stood out with every thrust of his hips. Lorena’s pussy sounded wet, open, hungry. I held her thighs and drove my tongue into her insistently, feeling her whole body tense.

“I’m going to come,” she moaned.

“Do it,” I told her, my mouth pressed to her clitoris.

Lorena came with a muffled cry, squeezing her thighs around my head while Mauro continued fucking her without giving her a moment’s respite. Her pussy clenched hard around his cock, nearly making him lose control. I saw him close his eyes and clench his jaw.

“Don’t come yet,” she ordered him, still trembling.

He obeyed. He pulled out of her, panting, and stepped back. His cock was hard, reddened, and dripping. Lorena grabbed my arm and pulled me toward her.

“Now you.”

She laid me on the table and opened my legs. I was still breathing hard from what I had just done to her, and still on the edge because of her earlier tongue. Mauro stood beside my head, stroking one of my breasts while she lowered herself between my thighs.

Lorena ate my pussy without delicacy, as if she wanted to force an orgasm out of me. She sucked my clitoris, pushed her tongue inside me, alternated with deep fingers, and looked up at me as if she were enjoying my surrender. I moaned without any shame now, opening myself wider for her.

Mauro kissed my neck, then my mouth, letting me taste his wife’s flavor on my lips. I felt his hand descend to my chest, squeeze my nipple, then continue down my belly until it rested on my pubic mound, just above where Lorena was devouring me.

“You’re close,” he whispered.

I nodded, unable to speak.

“I want to see her come,” Lorena said.

She inserted three fingers and began fucking me with them while sucking my clitoris. It was too much. My whole body tensed, and I came in a long convulsion, soaking her mouth, moaning uncontrollably. Lorena didn’t pull away; she kept licking me throughout the orgasm until I was left trembling.

When I had recovered some breath, I saw that Mauro was at the edge again. Lorena knew it too. She stood, took my hand, and made me turn on the table until I was lying on my side. Then she knelt behind me and spread my legs.

“I want to see you while he comes,” she told me. “And I want you to jerk him off.”

I took Mauro’s cock again. It was hard as stone. I brought him close to my face and began jerking him with one hand while stroking Lorena’s thigh with the other. She was now rubbing my pussy from behind with two slow, wet fingers. They were using me between them, and far from frightening me, the sensation aroused me all over again instantly.

Mauro breathed faster and faster. I looked at him while moving my hand up and down his cock, squeezing harder as I passed over the head.

“Do you want to come?” I asked him.

“Yes… fuck, yes…”

“Then come for us.”

Lorena pushed two fingers all the way inside me and bit my shoulder just as I bent down to lick the tip of Mauro’s cock. He lost control. He came with a broken moan, shooting hot streams that I spread over my hand, tongue, and part of my chest. I kept moving my hand for several seconds, wringing out his final spasms until he ran out of strength and had to lean against the table.

The room was filled with panting and the smell of sex. No one said anything for a moment. We simply looked at one another.

***

Afterward we went to the bathroom, cleaned ourselves as best we could, and returned to the room to get dressed without hurrying. The sexual tension had turned into a strange, intimate calm, the kind that comes after a good orgasm, when you feel empty inside and satisfied outside.

Lorena hugged me from behind while I pulled on my pants.

“I don’t want you to think this was an accident,” she told me. “I planned it from the second time you came here.”

I laughed, still a little dizzy.

“I suspected it rather late.”

Mauro, already dressed, looked at me with a mixture of gratitude and renewed desire.

“I didn’t know whether you’d go along with it.”

“Neither did I,” I admitted, “but I’m glad I did.”

Lorena paid me for the session and also left me an extra amount that made my eyes widen. I tried to tell her it was too much, but she silenced me with a gesture.

“We’re not paying you only for your time,” she said. “We’re thanking you for giving us a night we’d wanted for a very long time.”

I put the money away, my skin still sensitive and my body tired in the best possible way. Before I left, Lorena kissed me again, this time more briefly, but with the same clear intention of someone who knows this isn’t where it ends.

At the door, Mauro held my gaze for a second too long. Not vulgarly, but with the quiet hunger that appears when a line has been crossed and no one wants to erase it.

I left the house with my legs slightly weak and a smile that was difficult to hide. On the way home I thought about how easy it had been to lose my composure when the right fantasy appeared before me. I thought about Lorena’s tongue, Mauro’s cock throbbing in my hand, and the exact moment when I understood that I was no longer a masseuse attending to a couple, but a woman fulfilling a desire I had been imagining for a long time.

Since that night I look differently at certain clients, certain couples, certain questions that seem innocent but aren’t. I learned that sometimes the line between work and fantasy breaks with a single sentence whispered in your ear. And, if I’m honest, I also learned that there are doors you open nervously and then never want to close again.

It wasn’t the last time with Lorena and Mauro. But that’s another story.