The Dinner That Ended in an Orgy at the Masseuse’s House

We’re five women and none of us is past twenty-six. That, hard as it may be to believe, still gives us the right to take our time getting ready. The problem that afternoon was that Hugo, at his rented house near the coast, only had one bathroom. And to make it worse, there wasn’t even a door. He said he’d taken it off when he moved in: “Why so many doors if I live alone?” That night, though, we were five women using it in turns, going in and out, seeing who was showering and who wasn’t.

I left myself for last. I barely wear makeup, I prefer my face as it is, so I don’t take long. I got into the shower with Hugo after the others had gone through, while in the other rooms they were straightening their hair and fighting over the mirror.

Hugo is fifty-five and has been giving women massages for more than twenty years. That explains a lot. That same afternoon, by the pool, he’d given Carla one of his famous breast massages. I don’t know exactly what he did to her, but Carla spent the rest of the night with her nipples hard as rocks, showing through any fabric.

“They won’t go down until she comes,” Hugo explained to me later, laughing. “I’ve seen it in others. My massage gets her so turned on there’s no going back until the first orgasm.”

What an asshole. He had the advantage and he knew it.

***

He’d booked the restaurant halfway between his town and mine, right on the beach, hidden at the end of a maze of narrow streets even the GPS couldn’t find on the first try. On the way there, on a video call between the two cars, we got into a ridiculous argument, laughing all the while, about how to keep people from seeing Hugo as a dirty old man surrounded by five young women.

“The owner is married and his wife is one of my clients,” Hugo said. “No scenes. So decide who’s the shy niece and who are the friends.”

None of us could pass for a niece. None of us knows how to keep quiet or go unnoticed. In the end we decided to say we were the daughters of some of his clients, that we were taking our mothers’ masseur out to dinner. More believable, and it left our hands free.

We went in first and Hugo last. A waitress led us to a round table in a corner of the terrace. Carla sat right next to him; it was obvious she was hot for him after the massage. I sat on the other side.

We ordered a house salad that was so good we had seconds. And while we chatted as if nothing were happening, things were going on under the tablecloth. Carla’s hand had disappeared inside Hugo’s shorts. You could see the movement of her arm, slow and steady. Nearly two hours of dinner giving him a handjob, and he held out without spilling a drop. A silent contest between the two of them.

I leaned toward him at one point and noticed a detail.

“There isn’t a single male waiter,” I whispered in his ear.

“Owner’s thing,” he murmured. “Training-school staff, all of them on placement. They rotate between kitchen and dining room so the work doesn’t get boring, they’re paid the same whether they serve more or fewer tables, and each night they split a percentage of the till. That’s why they look after you like that, without smothering you.”

We left at one in the morning. We left a hundred euros in tip, twenty each. For the meal, for the calm, for the desserts that were even better than the salad. I like tipping when the service deserves it.

***

From there we walked to a summer terrace with loud music and drinks. Carla still had her nipples outlined under the black dress.

“Until he fucks, they won’t go down,” Hugo repeated, amused. “And you know what’s waiting for the rest of you when it’s your turn for the massage.”

I thought that man was dangerous. And that sooner or later I’d get to find out for myself.

The girls scattered to hunt. Carla was genuinely desperate, Bruna and Eva right behind her. I stayed behind, getting myself in the mood, looking around. I like men, but I also like women, and I spotted two older women sitting there, fending off horny creeps who wouldn’t leave them alone.

One of them winked at me without trying to hide it. I didn’t need anything more. I went over just when two men in their thirties were boring them with God knows what story, and I said out loud:

“Mom, where did you get to? Dad’s looking for you. And you, auntie, my brother’s worried — you left your jacket in the car.”

They both went along with it without losing their smiles. The guys stood up and took off in seconds.

“Thanks,” said the bolder one, still laughing. “You nailed the sister-in-law thing, you know? We really are.”

The quieter one had just gotten divorced. The other had been separated for years, but they got along great because she knew exactly what kind of idiot her brother was. We chatted for a while. The bolder one kept dropping hints to me, but she held back a little out of respect for her sister-in-law.

So I had an idea. If I introduced Hugo to the shy divorcee, I could keep the other one for myself.

“Want to meet my father and my brother?” I said to them. “Only fair after getting rid of those two pests.”

They said yes, laughing. And when we got to where Hugo was, something straight out of a movie happened: the divorced woman recognized him. She had been his client before she separated. They smiled at each other like old acquaintances and saved me the introductions.

***

When I saw the two of them getting wrapped up in memories of the “special masseur,” I took the bold one by the hand and told Hugo we were going for a walk. He was more than occupied.

The moment we got out of the place I shoved my tongue all the way into her mouth. She answered at once, grabbing my ass with an open hand. You could tell she’d already explored her bisexual side more than once. When we pulled apart, I suggested going to one of the cars instead of the beach: on the sand there’s always someone around to kill the mood.

We walked to the car chatting about nonsense, pretending not to be up to anything, and got in the back. It was pitch dark. The only lit streetlamp was more than twenty meters away. No one would see us.

I was only wearing a loose dress, and I took it off in a second while she watched me. Hers was tight and took more effort, but we folded it carefully: no matter how old you are, nobody likes wrinkles. When she was left in her lace bra matching her thong, I couldn’t hold back and pulled it up over her chest. She finished unfastening it herself.

We didn’t take our thongs off. Pushed to the side, they don’t get in the way at all.

She was blazing hot. She came for my mouth while I pinched her nipples, hard and gentle at the same time. Our tongues hunted each other at full speed, fingers everywhere. I slipped two, three fingers into her as my body wanted, rubbing a clit quite a bit bigger than mine. She fucked me with her hand, and I think at some point four fingers went in. The windows fogged up completely, even better.

She came twice in a row. When she did, I exploded into an orgasm that left me shaking. And we were still wanting more with nothing at hand.

Nothing? The gear stick is always a good dildo.

I got the idea that she should sit on top of it and ride it while I rubbed her clit and bit one nipple. I don’t know if it was the situation, the age difference, or my fingers’ work, but she came again, and even more when I slipped two fingers from my other hand in from behind. She liked it back there. She ended up collapsed over the gear stick, with everything inside, truly satisfied.

We got dressed and went back to the party. As we walked, I imagined for a second the four of us together — the two sisters-in-law, Hugo and me — but I told myself that was only imagination. Or not.

***

The girls were going back and forth, stopping to wet their whistles between one guy and the next. Carla finally had her nipples in peace.

“I fucked, but badly,” she confessed. “The guy lasted ten minutes. Good thing I made him wear a condom. I came, but because of Hugo’s massage, not because of him. I’m going after another one to see if he lasts a bit longer.”

Hugo had been right. Until the orgasm, no breathing room.

Little by little they all gathered around us: two older women, three young women, and one man. A magnet for everyone’s eyes in the place. Eva and Mara took the bold one back to the same car I’d been in; they shared her between the two of them. Carla and Bruna went off with their own. And I stayed with the shy sister-in-law and Hugo.

It was starting to dawn when she, with several drinks in her, finally opened up.

“Hugo always treated me with respect. His hands took a huge amount of tension out of me, and more than once I was on the verge of asking him to finish the massage a different way. But I didn’t want to cheat on my husband. Look what good that did me. Now I’m free, and honestly… I wouldn’t mind.”

The hint was out in the open. I was already picturing her in Hugo’s bed, with me beside her.

“I’ve got a bed at his place with the girls,” I told her. “No problem.”

Hugo, delighted to be breaking in an old client. The divorced woman, wanting it, but not daring to take the step. She only needed a little push.

***

I drove one of the cars and Hugo the other; we were the only ones who hadn’t been drinking. The sisters-in-law followed us in theirs. When we got there, the girls went in almost barefoot. Carla and Bruna flung themselves, still dressed, onto the bed, spent. Eva and Mara stayed on the sofa for a while. I lay down in the garden hammock while Hugo, now completely naked, prepared breakfast no one had expected but that is always appreciated.

The sisters-in-law were surprised to see him walking around his house in the nude, but with the trust that was already there, they got up and took their clothes off too. Eva, Mara, and I did the same: the clothes smelled of smoke and somebody else’s booze. We had breakfast naked, the six of us, at the garden table, feeding the body before what was coming.

Eva and Mara said goodbye and went to sleep together. That left the sisters-in-law, Hugo, and me. The shy one had never been with a woman.

“I’d like to try,” she admitted, nervous, “but with Hugo and my sister-in-law at the same time. I’ve wanted him for years. Just remembering his hands on my body already makes me crazy.”

Done and done. We went up to Hugo’s bedroom, which also doesn’t have a door.

The two sisters-in-law lay on their backs together on the big bed. Hugo started with his client, relaxing her with those hands that had been torturing her for years without quite touching her. I took care of the other one, the one I’d already tasted in the car and wanted to devour without rushing.

The bisexual one went for her shy sister-in-law’s mouth, and between that and Hugo’s tongue, the woman had her first orgasm almost immediately. The nervous one, the one that releases the tension of someone who has never dared. After that one came real desire.

She asked Hugo for the cock she had dreamed of taking in her mouth for so many years. He gave it to her while he ate her sister-in-law’s breasts, big and firm, making them hard with nothing but his tongue. And I had two mature cunts at my disposal, one for each hand, one for my mouth.

I felt someone come into the room and let her come closer. Where two eat, three can eat. It was Mara, coming to lend me a hand with so much freed-up pussy. Behind her came Eva, who still couldn’t sleep. Carla and Bruna were still out cold.

Three young women eating out two older women — one experienced, the other trying it for the first time — while Hugo alternated between his client’s mouth and his sister-in-law’s. The whole room smelled of sex, and that only got us hotter.

And here, as narrator, I have to stop. I know, it’s a pain, but I’d rather leave the rest for another night. You can think it’s fantasy. My body knows it isn’t.