Massage

I’ve spent half my life going up into the mountains alone, but that October morning I came back down with more than a basket full. This really happened, and I still can’t believe it.

When I asked for a full waxing, she arched a brow and her smile stopped being professional. The wax and her fingers soon became one.

Ramiro texted me that he’d decide in the moment whether he wanted the happy ending. Neither of us imagined how far we’d go that Thursday afternoon.

I thought it was just a routine cleaning. But when he summoned me to his house that night, I discovered he had a surprise waiting on the sofa.

For months he’d pretended her uniform didn’t affect him. That afternoon, with her thigh bandaged and his hands trembling on her skin, he knew he couldn’t hold back anymore.

Llevaba semanas con una sola idea fija en la cabeza, y aquel domingo en las gradas del campo de rugby encontré por fin la manera de cumplirla.

I offered to massage her feet without knowing she’d place hers exactly where I didn’t dare ask for it, and that neither of us would say a word.

The first time a man asked to kneel and kiss my soles, I understood it wasn’t just his whim: it was a power I’d carried with me all along.

When I opened my Epiphany gift and saw a voucher for a massage with Pilar, I laughed. I had no idea my wife had spent months planning exactly what would happen.

I offered to massage her tired feet and, without realizing it, crossed the only line I should never have crossed with her that night.

I lay naked on the table on purpose, not covering myself, just to see what he’d do when he came in with the hot oil.

She wore a size 36, they were white and perfect, and that sangria-soaked afternoon I decided I needed them in my mouth even if everyone was watching.

The first afternoon I went to help him, I thought I’d only be doing his exercises. I never imagined I’d end up discovering with him everything my home had denied me.

I told her to close the door and turn off the lights for an important call. What I didn’t expect was for her to start guessing what I was doing under the desk.

My husband gave me a spa massage for our seventh anniversary. What he never imagined was that another woman would teach me how much I still had to discover.

I only wanted to try five minutes of massage before going back to the hotel. I never imagined a stranger’s hand would change my vacation that afternoon.

My wife agreed to pay an expert to massage me in front of her, but she didn’t expect to discover how much pleasure it gave her to watch another woman make me moan.

When he got into the car and smiled at me, I knew we weren’t going to make it anywhere decent that night. It had to be ours, even if it was only on a dirt road among almond trees.

I'd spent a month watching her nipples show beneath her blouse and pretending to think about equations. That afternoon she complained about her neck, and I knew I had my excuse.

It was eleven in the morning and the cove was empty, except for a guy pretending not to watch me. My husband was swimming and I could feel his eyes fixed on every inch of my skin.