The Final Frontier

Jane and I mined our Caribbean vacation, and especially our encounter with Chantelle, for material when we fantasized during love-making for months after we got home. I tried not to be the one that initiated it, because I didn't want Jane to worry that my memories of that incredible afternoon were eclipsing my desire for her, which was certainly not the case. Inevitably, it came up less and less frequently until I realized one day that I couldn't remember the last time it had.

Other things assumed greater importance in our lives: Jane was angling for a promotion and working longer hours, so I gladly took up the slack at home. It was a rich time of full-on engagement in just about every aspect of our lives except our sex-life. Jane and I awoke one kid-free Saturday morning to the realization that we hadn't made love in at least a month.

As she turned towards me in bed and I stroked the curve of her bottom she said "It's been way too long since we have done this..."

She climbed top of me and we explored each other's bodies in a way that we hadn't in what seemed like ages, slowly and tenderly, in the way a couple does that has been together almost twenty years. We knew exactly where to touch each other, when to hold back and when not to, and, being alone in the house, we didn't need to be quiet when the moment came. It felt like reviving a fire by blowing on an ember, gently at first and then with more energy until it catches fire and begins a chain reaction.

Jane jumped in the shower and I went downstairs to get the coffee going. She came downstairs still in her bathrobe and toweling her wet hair, looking lovely without any make-up. I had always admired and enjoyed that aspect of her beauty: she needed no enhancement to be drop-dead gorgeous in my eyes.

As I passed her to climb the stairs for my own appointment with soap and hot water, she said "I'll make some eggs--I find myself strangely hungry..." and gave me a theatrically lascivious grin.

"Can't think why," I said innocently, and then ducked to avoid the towel that was flung at my head.

"Pig!" she yelled at my retreating back. "That's the last time you get laid..."

"Hah!" I leaned my head down the stairwell and called back playfully "You might live to regret that..."

Her reply was muffled by the intervening distance, but it didn't take a genius to guess its content. I was soon luxuriating under the cascading shower and feeling pretty good about the best start to a weekend we'd had in a long time. It reminded me of the lazy, sensuous Saturdays and Sundays we used to have before the kids were born: no responsibilities or agendas, just long love-making sessions, lazy afternoons wrapped up in each other with our books or a movie, extended walks, visits with friends or long conversations over dinner and a bottle of wine. Just for a second I wondered wistfully how we could recapture that feeling of invulnerability and endless possibility.

The kitchen smelled wonderful as I wandered back downstairs. "There you go, big guy," said Jane as she handed me a plate. The front of her bathrobe yawned enticingly as she sat down in front of her own piled-up plate, almost liberating the breasts I had been fondling not half an hour before.

She followed the direction of my gaze. "My eyes are up here, buster," she said, pulling her robe tighter, obscuring my view.

"Spoilsport! I will never tire of looking at them..."

To my surprise, rather than sitting there coyly, she slowly pulled the flaps of her robe apart. "What, these old things?"

Ignoring the food in front of me, I stood and went to her. "Yes, those wonderful, perfectly shaped, beautiful..." I bent down and kissed the left, "... amazingly sexy..." then the right, "breasts that I love so much." Half-mocking, she pushed me away. "Seriously," I said, "you have the breasts of a twenty year-old."

Jane smiled, looking down at her chest. "I'm glad you still like them," she said. Then, feeling suddenly self-conscious, she closed her robe again. "It has been a while since they've seen the light of day," she continued. Pause. "Too long."

"It's hard to disentangle from stuff sometimes," I replied as I sat back down.

"This push at work won't go on for ever," she replied a little haltingly, "I know I've been a bit absent."

"It'll be totally worth it in the long run," I said. "I'm very proud you. I don't know what the hell they're waiting for. It's really annoying. Perhaps you should start dropping hints that they might lose you if they keep you dangling any longer." I dug my fork into the cooling food on my plate and took a big mouthful. "Actually, I suspect they know exactly what they're doing. They're getting a ton of extra productivity out of you without having to pay for it. Where's their incentive?"

It was not the first time we'd had this conversation, and Jane smiled in acknowledgement. "The extra money would be great, but I am beginning to wonder whether the cost is too high. I almost never see the girls, and this morning was the first time we've made love in way too long."

I nodded in agreement. "So, how do we make space for it?" I asked.

Jane got up and returned with the coffee pot, refilling our mugs. "Whatever you decide about the job is fine with me either way," I continued, taking a sip, waiting for whatever conversation she needed to have to unfold at her pace.

"I know, and thank you," she said. "You've been great. You could not have been more supportive. It's just that sometimes it feels like life is passing us by. All work and no play...." She paused, trying to decide not so much what to say but how to say it. She took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then plunged on. "I just don't want to wake up in ten years happy with our bank balance but not happy with how we've got there."

She reached across the table and took my hand, motioning with her head in the direction of our bedroom upstairs. "It used to be such a big part of our lives, and this morning makes me realize how much I've missed it..."

"We have had some amazing adventures," I agreed readily. "If only another Caribbean vacation were coming up... No responsibilities, no clothes, cold drinks, hot beach...." My voice trailed off and I closed my eyes. "Bliss...." I added.

"I bet I know what you're thinking about..." said Jane, laughing.

"And you aren't?" I shot back, opened my eyes and grinned. "Careful, you'd lose that bet. What I was actually thinking was next time we go we really should get someone else to apply your suntan lotion. Some sexy young hunk. That would take your mind off work very quickly!"

"How kind of you! Thinking only of me.... you wouldn't enjoy watching that at all, would you?" she replied with faux sarcasm. I could feel her spirits rising as we bantered in a way we hadn't in a long time. It carried us through the rest of the day until Jane got ready to go to the gym. "Don't forget I booked a massage after my class," said Jane. "I haven't seen Jade for ages, and she really gets the knots out of my back."

Where did they come up with these names, I thought to myself, 'Jade' was no more Asian than I was. "Enjoy. I'll have a bottle of something cold in the fridge waiting for you when you get back." She gave me a quick peck on the cheek and ran out of the door.

I was a runner, not a gym rat. I had some weights in the den that I would lift when the mood struck, but I preferred being outside, when it was warm enough, rather than indoors. Jane had tried to get me to join her gym more than once, saying that the array of spandex and skimpy exercise clothes would keep me entertained, but it wasn't my thing. I put the wine in to chill, threw something together for dinner and went into the den to catch the end of a game.

I heard Jane come back in, run up the stairs and shower for the second time that day. She came to find me in the den wearing an oversized hoodie that was loose and comfortable after her exertions. It fell almost to her knees. "How was it?" I asked, without taking my eyes off the screen.

"The class was great!" she replied. "Hard, but that's good, right? My glutes were screaming by the end."

I still wasn't really paying attention. "I'm sure you asked what's-her-name to work on them."

"Jade. And actually, I didn't. I couldn't, because she was out sick."

I turned away from the game, raising an eyebrow playfully. "That's a shame, would you like me to work on them?"

"It's all good: they had someone else there," she said mysteriously.

"Damn," I said, "Well, you can't blame a guy for trying," and turned back to the game as a roar from the crowd announced that something had happened for once. "I'm sure she did a great job."

"Actually, it was a him," Jane replied. "And yes, he did a great job. He was very thorough."

She knew that would get my attention. I muted the game and turned to her. She was grinning.

"His hands were very firm and he got all the knots out of my neck and shoulders."

"What about the glutes?" I asked, matching her grin.

"Those too," she replied. "Like I said, he was very thorough." She paused. "Not as thorough as you would have wanted him to be, but he knew exactly when to press and when not to." She paused again, with a secret grin. "And where to press and where not to."

She reached down to the hem of the hoodie and slipped it over her head, revealing a see-through teddy underneath. "Perhaps you'd care to attend to the parts he missed?"

I went to her, picked her up, took her to the sofa, and laid her down on her front. I ran my hand up the back of her legs in my best imitation of a masseur's motion, my thumbs running up the center of her calf to her thigh while my fingers squeezed the sides.

"Like this?" I asked.

"Yes," she replied, "except I was covered up by a towel. He was very respectful," Jane added. "I was always completely covered. But, little by little, his hands worked higher, until they went under the towel."

"Where did he stop?" I asked, going an inch further than I thought he would have.

"Higher," she said.

I slipped my fingers slowly upwards until I swear they were just about to touch the fringe of hair that she kept neatly trimmed.

"There," she said. "That's where he stopped. Every time. Then he changed to the other leg. The first couple of times I wasn't sure if he was just trying it on, to see how far I would let him go. But then I thought he'd get fired if someone complained, so he'd not run the risk."

I switched to the other leg and heard Jane's intake of breath as I let my hands go higher than the masseur. "Hmmmm.... that's nice," she murmured. I thought about asking her whether she wished that his finger had explored like mine was, but decided not to interrupt her narrative. She was enjoying pulling me in, knowing that she was turning me on.

"Then what?" I asked instead.

"He asked me to turn over, holding the towel and looking away so he didn't see me naked, made sure I was covered from my boobs to my knees, and then started on the front of my legs." She turned to lay on her back, and put her hands over her breasts as if to mimic the material she had had over her. My hands followed the path his had earlier. I was getting excited. If anything, not being able to see her breasts made touching her even more arousing. I could only believe that his imagination must have been in overdrive too.

"Higher," she said again, her voice a little breathy. This time my hand did brush against her lips.

"Like that?" I asked, sure the answer would be no.

"Yes, once," she replied, "but he immediately apologized. I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing and he didn't do it again. He soon moved behind my head and put his hands under my shoulder blades to work on my scapula."

I didn't stop, and soon my fingers were even higher than the masseur's had been. Jane was ready for them. She removed her hands from her breasts so I could get the whole view, and opened her thighs a little wider for me. She was very wet and I slipped in easily.

"Right at the end, when he was leaning over me working on my shoulders he brushed against my head and I could have sworn I felt a bulge..." she said, her excitement mounting fast.

The sofa in our den is a sectional with one side that has no back or arm rest. I moved her so that her head was on the edge, then leant over her so that the erection in my jeans, well developed by this stage, rubbed against the side of her face.

"Like that?" I asked, reaching down to continue the small circles with my index finger that I knew she loved.

"Yes...." she said, her breath coming now in small gasps. "It only happened once..... but I wanted it to happen again...." Finally, I asked the question that had been burning a hole in my imagination.

"Did you want him to do this?" I asked, and started moving my finger faster and faster. I was rewarded with a cry of pleasure as Jane's back arched. I drove my finger in and out, one at first, and then two, making sure my thumb slid over her clitoris with each stroke. "Yessssss...." Her orgasm was loud as she came in wave after wave, deep convulsions of ecstasy which continued long after she grabbed my hand and pulled it out of her. "Ohhhhh.........!"

When she finally calmed a little, I reached for the hoodie and passed it to her, got up, switched the television off and returned to lie down next to her. I kissed her tenderly. "Wow!" I said. "Sounds like an amazing massage! If that's the effect it's going to have on you, you should definitely book another one..."

"I think I will," Jane replied with a satisfied smile. "Are you sure you wouldn't mind?"

"Of course not," I said. "He gave you a great massage and you got turned on too. Sounds like a win-win."

It proved to be more complicated than we thought. At her next visit to the gym a couple of days later Jane tried to book another massage with him, but he was not available. Apparently Jason, as she found out he was called, wasn't actually an employee of the gym, but someone Jade had sent in her place at the last minute without clearing it with the management. They had no idea whether he had any training and had not been able to do the necessary background checks, and even though Jane told them it was the best massage she had received there, they considered it unprofessional behavior and had no intention of hiring him. They fired Jade too, which Jane thought was a big overreaction. Without either of her massage therapists her attendance tailed off, and she eventually joined another gym.

She found the classes there more challenging and felt energized by the change. I got used to seeing her with a big smile on her face when she came home after a successful workout, but several weeks later she came home more effervescent than usual.

"Guess who I ran into at the gym?" she said as she dropped her gym bag on the floor and plumped down on the sofa. "Jason!" I must have had a puzzled look on my face because she had to add "the massage guy" before the penny dropped.

"Does he work there?"

"No, he was just using the gym. He's a member there. It took me a while to realize where I knew him from, then I remembered and went over and said 'hi'."

"Small world..." I said. "Good for you! I bet you made his day."

"He did seem a little surprised at first, but then he remembered me and we had a nice chat."

"Didn't recognize you with your clothes on, huh?"

"Oh ha, ha!" Jane punched my arm. "Anyway, he has a studio of his own now, so.... I made an appointment!"

"I imagine he found your massage as memorable as you did," I replied grinning. "I bet he's looking forward to it..." Jane poked her tongue out. "Where does he work?"

"Actually, he works out of his apartment..." she said. "That way he can be his own boss, doesn't have to pay rent and can choose his own work hours." She went to her gym bag, pulled out a business card and handed it to me.

It looked legit. There was an engaging picture of a good-looking guy in his late twenties, dark hair with toned arms crossed over equally well-developed pecs. There was a long series of initials after his name, which I took to be his certifications, followed by a web address and a QR code. "Impressive," I said. Determined to tease her, I raised an eyebrow. "His qualifications look good too."

"Smart ass," she replied, and went to shower off the effects of her body pump class. Later that night, in bed, after she had turned off the light on her side, she rolled over to me and asked "so you're alright if I go to see Jason?"

"Of course," I said. "If you come home as hot and bothered as you did last time it would be good for me too..."

"Oh, really?" she said, and I felt her hand reaching for me under the covers. "In what way?"

"The whole time you are there I will be imagining his hands all over you." I was getting harder and Jane started a slow stroking motion. "Knowing me, I will also be imagining whether he wished he could explore a little more than last time...."

Jane's head disappeared under the covers and she took me in her mouth, moving her head up and down and flicking her tongue over just the right place, only stopping to say "you do like that idea, don't you? He's so hard!" before resuming. Over the years we have been together she had acquired a technique that drove me crazy, and I was soon very close to coming.

"Careful," I said.

She took him out of her mouth and started stroking again. "Show me how excited you'll be thinking about Jason's hands all over my body..." and enveloped me again. The combination of her stroking and the sudden warmth of her mouth sent me over the edge, and I came intensely. Jane usually pulls her mouth away when she feels I am about to come, her tongue working that most sensitive spot just below the head to make sure I stay on the crest of the wave. But this time she sucked hungrily, and I emptied myself into the velvety wetness. She emerged from under the covers, wiping her chin with the back of her hand. "It seems that you like the idea a lot!" she said, smiling broadly.

"You too, apparently. You haven't done that in ages... I love it when you do... God you drive me wild!" She cuddled up next to me, putting her head on my chest in our usual post-coital pose. I began stroking the bare skin between her shoulder blades with my finger tips. "May I return the favor...?"

"I wish I had the energy," Jane replied. "Hold your thought until after I see Jason on Saturday."

I fell asleep thinking Saturday could not come soon enough.

--------------

When it finally arrived, Jane headed off to the gym with a change of clothes so that she could shower after her workout and head straight for her massage. She gave me a hug before she left, which was unusual, and I wondered if she was a little unsure of what--if anything--she wanted to happen. Was she nervous? I too wondered: perhaps the little slip really had been unintentional and Jane had misinterpreted when he was leaning over her. He might be the consummate professional with no intentions of being anything else.

When the time came that I knew she would be laying on the massage table in his apartment, I couldn't stop my imagination from wandering to some of the fantasies we had shared. But fantasizing is one thing, acting on them is quite another I told myself. What would Jane do if the opportunity presented itself? How would she react if he touched her? How would she let him know that she was open to being touched (if she was)? Would she want to touch him? All sorts of sexy images floated in my mind, distracting me all afternoon: nothing else could hold my attention.

When she finally got home I was hanging out on the sofa in the den, as I usually did when I didn't know what to do with myself. A book was open in front of me, but I wasn't reading it. She came up behind me, put her arms on my shoulders and kissed the top of my head. She smelled of massage oil. "Hi," she said and sat down next to me.

"How was it?" I asked, as nonchalantly as possible, pretending that I wasn't asking the question that I was asking.

"The massage was wonderful," she said, and smiled. "And don't worry, my virtue is still intact."

"I wasn't worried," I replied quickly. It was strange feeling relieved and disappointed at the same time. I realized at that moment what I probably should have known all along: if something were ever to happen at one of her massages I wanted to be there, to see how she reacted, to share her excitement, wherever it lead. "I wanted you to have the experience you wanted, whatever it was," I assured her.

"Well, I sort of did and sort of didn't," she replied enigmatically. I waited for her to explain. "Everything was the same as last time," she continued. "I was covered up the whole time: if anything his hands stayed in safer areas. He didn't slip up once. He stayed away from my glutes so completely that I had to ask him to work on them: they really were sore after my workout. We did so many squats..." she added.

"And did he?"

She smiled, both at the memory of his touch and knowing that I was imagining his hands on her.

"Yes. He uncovered one at a time and worked them very thoroughly. A couple of times it was quite uncomfortable and I had to ask him not to press so hard. He became much gentler, moving slower and sliding over the whole area. More stroking really, like you do. It felt good, and I think he was finally allowing himself to enjoy touching me."

"How could he not?" I said gallantly, but it was true. Any man would be lucky to get the chance to touch her. "What made you think that?"

"Although I was completely covered, he started touching both at the same time and after a while it didn't feel like a massage.... rather than rubbing, his hands were squeezing in a way that seemed to be designed to be pleasurable rather than therapeutic..."

"I bet that felt amazing," I said, wondering what would come next.

"It did! I felt my body beginning to respond and told him it felt good, but as soon as I did, he stopped. It was like a switch turned off. He said abruptly 'I'll leave the room so you can turn over,' and bolted."

"Did he do that last time?" I asked. Jane shook her head. "Perhaps he was too turned on and needed a time out," I hypothesized. "You do have that effect on people."

"I don't know. Possibly, I suppose," she replied, ignoring my comment. "When he came back it was all very perfunctory, as if his mind was elsewhere, deliberately keeping his distance. Then time was up."

I could tell that, like me, she was both disappointed and relieved. "It's still only the second time he's massaged you," I said. "He has to be careful because he doesn't know you. One false move with the wrong client could lead to any number of complaints, even legal action. He could lose his whole business. It's not hard to imagine wires getting crossed in that situation...."

"I suppose not," she admitted. "But if I did want to be touched in that way how would I let him know other than by telling him it felt good?"

"It's a great question." I responded. "I know we've been fantasizing about it, but when the moment came, did you want him to?"

Jane thought about that before replying. "I don't know, he kind of wigged out before it came to that."

"I bet he's been thinking about your naked butt ever since you left," I said. "In his place know I would! Don't overthink it..." I leaned forward and kissed her and we changed the subject and went about the rest of the evening, but when we went to bed I made a mental note that it was Jane that initiated our love making.

----------------

Jane

I confess I was nervous when I knocked on Jason's door for my third massage. It had been over three weeks since the awkward ending of our previous session, and I had been so totally consumed by work that I hadn't had time to unpack it. Probably just as well, I thought as I entered his apartment.

"Hi, Jane," he said in his easy way, "come on in," as he stood to one side and extended an arm in invitation.

The massage table was set up, with dim lighting from well-placed candles that cast shadows on the walls, and a large ficus plant in the corner that spread dramatic gashes of light and dark across the ceiling. I noticed that he had made other changes to the décor since my last visit: in addition to the candles there were pictures on the walls, a new bookshelf with a mixture of what looked like anatomy books and curios, and there was gentle background music emanating from a speaker on a low table next to his bottle of massage oil. I noticed that the heating was turned up so it was nice and toasty, in fact so much so that I wondered if I would be too hot under the thick towel he used to cover people up.

"Wow, this is different," I complimented him.

"Thanks," he said, "I've had more time to get it the way I want since your last visit. You were one of the first clients here, and I hadn't really thought through how to it make a relaxing, welcoming environment."

"Well, you've succeeded." I said generously. "This is really nice."

"Thanks," he said again. "I'll step out so you can get undressed. Just put your clothes on the chair over there, and set up under the sheet on the table, face down."

I did as he asked and was just settling my face in the headrest when he came back into the room. In the warmth of the room the sheet covering me felt pleasantly light, so I wasn't overheated, but I soon became aware of how it clung to me. He must have been able to see all the contours of my body. A frisson of sensuality rippled over me.

"Are you warm enough, or shall I get a blanket?"

"I'm fine, it's nice and warm in here," I replied. "I'll let you know if that changes."

"Good," he replied, and I heard the soft squelch of the massage oil bottle as he put some on his hands, rubbing them together to warm it up before he touched me. "Any problem areas you would like me to work on?"

"Not really," I replied. "Today's class wasn't so hard, so I'm not hurting as much as I was last time. I am in your capable hands," I added, wondering too late if it sounded flirty. In case it did, I added "You're the expert," in an attempt to sound more worldly than I felt.

He seemed to like to work in silence, perhaps so he could concentrate on his search for knots or areas that needed work. I followed his example, thinking that if I kept quiet I couldn't say anything stupid. 'Get out of your head!' I told myself and tried to relax so I could concentrate on the massage.

The warm oil made his hands glide smoothly over my skin, backwards and forwards. I could feel the heat coming from them, the contrast between the softness of the palms, smooth from using lotion all day, and the strength of his fingers as he worked his way up from my calves to my thighs. I felt myself breathing slower and more deeply, and when he lowered the sheet from my shoulders to work there, I found the rhythm of my breaths matching the rhythm of his long, sweeping strokes up and down my spine: out as he pressed down and in as he reduced pressure before changing direction. It was strangely intimate.

Gradually he worked from my neck down towards my tailbone, pressing his thumbs into the base of my back and massaging in small circles. Any lower and they would be touching the top of the cleft between my butt cheeks. I love it when Rob touches me there, and I found myself hoping that Jason would now. But how to let him know that I would be comfortable with it without freaking him out? I had an idea.

"I know my work out wasn't so hard today, but would you mind spending some time on my glutes? They always need it..." I held my breath. I could almost hear him thinking about it. His hands did another pass over the muscles at the base of my spine, once more pushing some of the air from my lungs as he pressed down and making me acutely aware of my breasts being squashed against the table.

"Sure," he said eventually. "I'm glad you asked. Not everyone is comfortable being touched there, so they miss relief in an area that can can get tight and cause discomfort." Phew, I thought. Good response.

"Thanks. That would be great," I replied, doing my best not to sound too eager. Then he surprised me. Rather than uncovering one at a time, as he had last time, he rolled the whole sheet down to mid-thigh, exposing all of me.

"Is that ok?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied, and then, before I could stop myself "my husband and I go to nude beaches all the time." Once, you liar, I thought. You went once. "I'm used to it." Stupid, stupid, stupid. You and your big mouth. Why did you have to say that? Idiot. Fortunately, he didn't freak out. Either he chose to ignore it or simply didn't know how to respond.

"Sorry," I said. "Too much information. You didn't need to know that. I just wanted you to know that I was comfortable..." I was babbling.

"I think the 'yes' covered it," he said.

If Rob had said that, he would have been smiling, enjoying yanking my chain. I was trying to interpret how Jason meant it when he applied a fresh layer of warm massage oil to both cheeks and all thought was pushed from my mind as he began to work his magic. After working the sides with his thumbs, his palms moved to the center, pressing gently down and moving in circles. His hands were large enough to grip each one fully, and I became acutely aware that his thumbs were now creeping closer and closer to making the kind of 'slip' Rob and I had fantasized about.

"Is this pressure ok?" he asked.

"Yes, perfect..." I replied, then once again, before I could stop myself, "an added incentive to work hard at the gym..." Why did I say that? Would he think I was flirting? I heard a chuckle behind me.

"I'm glad it feels good."

"Why would anyone pass this up?" I asked, again without thinking. Definitely in flirting territory now.

"I guess not everyone thinks it's appropriate to be touched here by someone who's not their husband," he replied.

"Then I'm lucky he's not the jealous type." I was becoming mesmerized by the movement of his hands as they now began to move between the top of my thighs and my glutes, alternating softer and harder pressure. Without consciously willing it, my hips started moving in response. Suddenly he pressed outwards, spreading my cheeks apart, surely giving him a great view of what lies between them. I said nothing. A couple of strokes later he did it again, and a third time, and I felt a thumb lightly brush over my butt hole. No mistaking that move. When it happened again, I let out a gentle "mmmm" of pleasure. He stopped. 'Nooooooo!' I thought. Jason cleared his throat.

"Um... please don't stop," I said before he could say anything.

"I was going to say it's time to turn over," he said after a pause.

"Oh.... right.... of course," I said quickly, flustered, suddenly wondering if I had imagined his wayward thumbs. He stepped round the side of the table and held the sheet up (a bit theatrically? I wondered) so that my nakedness would be hidden from his view. Quite sure I was blushing, I settled myself on my back, and he placed the sheet over me again, taking great care not to touch me. In my growing excitement I was now even more conscious of just how thin the material covering me was, emphasizing as it did the outline of my breasts.

Jason stepped behind me, and started working on my shoulders, at first with his thumbs along the muscle before flattening his palms and sliding downward over the exposed skin towards the top of the sheet. I felt my breathing quicken as he stroked lower, brushing the top of the light blue cotton. My nipples began to harden. He must see that, I thought. A few more strokes and I felt the familiar, delicious tingling of arousal spreading across my torso. There was now no stopping the way my body was responding to the combination of his touch and the fantasies Rob and I had shared about just this moment. I slipped my arms out from under the sheet, gripped the hem and pulled the sheet off me, first downwards to reveal my breasts and then to the side, so I was completely uncovered. It fell to the floor. My arms went back to my sides, I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to let him know that I was fine. I didn't insult him by pretending that it was too hot under the sheet. I wanted him to know that removing it was an invitation.

For a few seconds his palms continued the motions they had been making, stopping at the place where the sheet had been. Gradually his hands slid lower, but still avoided where I now very much wanted him to touch. Not being able to find the right words, I reached up, took his hands and moved them over my breasts. He stopped massaging, and for a second I thought I had offended him.

"You don't have to stop," I said. "Unless you want to..." He took his hands off me and moved to sit on the edge of the table so we could talk more easily, face to face.

"I don't want to stop," he said simply, " but..."

He reached out and picked up my left hand, tilting it towards me so that my wedding ring glinted in the light of the flickering candles. I raised myself on one elbow so that our heads were closer to the same level: I had learned at work that differences in height are often interpreted as a power differential and I definitely did not want to feel subordinate in this situation.

"What I mean is, you don't have to worry about touching me... it's okay." I could see conflicting emotions swimming across his face. "My husband knows I am here. In fact, he wants me to be here. It excites him. He's at home right now, imagining what might be happening..."

Puzzlement slowly replaced disbelief on Jason's face.

"In fact, he's hoping something will." Jason's expression softened as excitement began to grow in his eyes. "I meant it when I said he's not the jealous type. I'll tell him everything when I get home and his only reaction will be to get very turned on."

I could see the moment when he made the decision to believe me: his whole body relaxed and the look of puzzlement melted and was replaced by anticipation. Almost reluctantly at first, his hand moved slowly up from my torso and caressed my left breast as he spoke. "You have no idea how hard it was to keep your last massage professional. Thinking of you naked under the towel was driving me crazy. I kept thinking of what I wanted to do..." His hand felt wonderful.

"Show me," I said and lay back down. He began to run his fingers up the inside of my thigh, stopping just at the point where he was about to touch the outer hairs of my bush. "That's what you did last time," I said, a little breathlessly.

"I was terrified I had gone too far," he replied. "I half expected you to slap me..." His hands kept exploring.

"You didn't feel me do this?" I asked, opening my legs a little in encouragement.

"I did, and it was driving me insane. I couldn't believe it!"

"Show me what you wanted to do," I said. Now I was the one that couldn't quite believe it. A small part of my brain was telling me I was talking like a bad porno, but the majority of it didn't care. My body was reacting to Jason's touch, blocking the ability to think rationally. Taking control of the situation in this way was intoxicating: is this what a man feels when he seduces a woman for the first time, I thought?

Jason stood and began running his hand up the inside of my thigh again. This time he didn't stop, his fingers finally discovering the wetness that was waiting for them. His middle finger swirled round the entrance and just as it pushed past the willing folds he leant over and ran his tongue over my right nipple, causing me to gasp in delight.

"Yes! Do that again..." Saying exactly what I wanted him to do was like a drug. I felt like a conductor directing the players of a sensual orchestra in just the right way to build the excitement higher and higher. Jason ran his finger up the other thigh and this time took my areola in his mouth before his finger entered me, eliciting a long "Ohhhhhhhh!" His finger began an in-and-out motion, but it was too fast too soon. "Slower," I directed, "gently... like that..." As if he intuited exactly what I wanted, he began to alternate circling the outside and slowly easing my folds apart as he pushed deeper inside me.

Without stopping his motions he straightened his back and started rolling my nipples between his thumb and forefinger. "God you're beautiful!" he said. "I can't believe this is actually happening...." I felt the beginning of an orgasm building and I opened my legs wider. Suddenly he inserted two fingers and started rubbling my clit with his thumb as he went in and out in the same way that Rob does sometimes. I loved it.

I let out a loud groan as my body contorted in pre-orgasmic tension. My head rolled to the side and I saw the bulge in the front of Jason's pants. I reached out and ran my hand up and down it. He was as hard as a rock. He had to stop his motions momentarily while I maneuvered so I could reach the waist band and pull downwards. I was going to come hard, but I knew I would come longer and even harder if I had him in my hands and mouth.

He was uncircumcised, which I wasn't used to, but he was lovely and thick and felt good as I circled him with my hand and mouth. He tasted subtly different from Rob and his glans was smoother as I ran my tongue over it. It was his turn to groan in pleasure, and soon I was able to get that reaction whenever I wanted by flicking the tip of my tongue in just the right place and sucking harder for a second. I loved being able to take him to the brink only to pull back at the last moment.

My orgasm when it came was like being hit by a truck. I dread to think of the bestial noises I made as his fingers and thumb drove me on and on. Just as I tasted his pre-cum an especially powerful wave hit and I had to open my mouth wide, gasping for air. For what seemed like ages I could pay no attention to him at all, totally at the mercy of the tsunami overwhelming me. When it subsided, I realized Jason was still standing there, looking down at my naked body in delight and lust. He was also in obvious need of relief. He had given me incredible pleasure, and I found myself wanting to do the same for him.

I sat up on the side of the bed and began gently stroking him. "That was amazing!" I told him as I slid my hand up and down his shaft, occasionally slipping it between my lips. "Does that feel good?"

"God yes," he said, looking down at me. I leaned down a little a put just the head in my mouth and started pumping with my right hand. My left went behind and grabbed his right buttock and drew him closer, digging my fingernails into the flesh.

"I want you to come on my tits," I said, and put the tip back in my mouth, stroking harder and faster. When I tasted his pre-cum again I pulled my head back and leaned away a little so that he could see my breasts, my hand a blur of motion. I could feel his glans moisten under may thumb as the pre-cum combined with my saliva and I knew that his moment was close.

"Yes, that's right," I said hoarsely and cupped his balls with my left hand. "Yes...."

I was rewarded with spurt after silvery spurt exploding on to my chest, interspersed with guttural grunts and a long, drawn-out "Ahhhhhhhh...." as Jason's body convulsed with the final throes of his pleasure. When I saw that he was spent I stopped, but he was still breathing heavily.

"Do you need to sit down?" I asked. Instead of doing so, he walked to the bathroom and I heard the sound of running water. He returned a few moments later with a hot face-cloth and began gently wiping his ejaculation from my chest. I smiled gratefully, but had no idea what to say. He took the soiled cloth back to the bathroom and then sat down next to me in silence. He didn't have any words either.

Of all the scenarios Rob and I had imagined, we had never wondered about what it would be like afterwards. What do you say? How do you acknowledge what had just happened? What Jason and I had just shared was a mind-blowing experience, and it was was intimacy of a kind, but it wasn't a relationship. Nor did it feel like the occasional one-night-stands I had had before I married Rob.

"Thank you seems so inadequate," I said finally, "but... thank you. I don't know how I imagined it would be, and I had no idea whether it would ever happen, but now it has I am glad..." I trailed off.

"You're really going to tell your husband what happened?" he asked.

"Yes. Everything," I answered truthfully. "We have no secrets. It's not like we have an open marriage, and we don't think of ourselves as 'swingers', but we do sometimes like to have intimate experiences that include other people."

"Wow," he said simply. "I've never met anyone who does that before."

"Actually this is a first for us too. We've always been together before."

"Why did you want it to be different this time?" he asked.

"I think couples often fantasize about other people. When I met you because Jade was sick it opened up a whole new set of possibilities. He loved the idea of me being naked and touched by you. The only way for that to happen was for me to come for a massage, alone."

"That's an amazing level of trust. I can't imagine having a relationship like that," he replied.

"It's part luck, finding the right person, and part hard work," I said, practically. "You have to talk a lot. At least, that's how we do it. Last summer I watched Rob make love to a lovely young girl. I wanted him to have that experience. It was beautiful to watch. He wanted me to have this experience: if he'd been here he would have thought it equally beautiful."

"Would he like to watch me massaging you, doing what we just did?" asked Jason.

"Very much," I replied. The question was fair, but it lead inexorably to a conversation I wasn't ready to have yet. Rob and I had a lot to process. "But let's not go there today. I only want to think about the amazing thing we just did." I reached over and kissed him for the first time. Ironically, in some ways it felt more intimate than having his finger inside me. He returned it warmly.

"I should go. Thank you, Jason." He watched me while I got dressed, drinking in every detail as if he was trying to store up memories for later recall. Normally I would have been shy, but after what had happened it seemed pointless to be so in front of him, so I took my time. His gaze made me feel beautiful. I also enjoyed looking at him, his languid nakedness, his sculpted youth (the toned results of the gym), and the shapely, now-flaccid penis resting on his thigh. I remembered the feeling of it in my mouth.

Ready once more for the outside world, I gathered up my things, gave him a final hug and he closed the door behind me.

------------

Rob

As soon as I saw Jane when she got home I knew something had happened at her massage. There is something about the way her face relaxes after she has come, a different curl to her mouth, a light in her eye, her movements are more languorous, almost feline in their fluidity. A jolt of chemicals flooded my body at the realization: excitement, arousal, and, if I am being honest, a short but intense burst of jealousy. I had always been present when we added others to our intimacy. Until now we had shared the adventure.

This was new territory. I knew that we had fantasized about it, that I had told her I wanted it. I had egged her on to explore with this Jason, but now that I was face to face with the reality of it I was momentarily drunk with confusion. Somewhere in the back of my mind the phrase 'be careful what you wish for' was flashing in bright neon lights, momentarily pinning me to the spot, unable to move.

In the same split second it took for me to experience all these emotions, Jane read them on my face and moved quickly towards me, wrapping me in a hug. "I love you!" she said again and again, until my pulse slowed to a tolerable level and I could arrange the muscles of my face into a smile. I framed her face with my hands and looked into her eyes until the smile became more natural and the shared memories of our life beat back the green monster. The dark voices subsided.

"I love you too," I said simply, and leaned in to kiss her.

"Come," she said, taking my hand and leading me to the sofa. She held both my hands as we sat, close enough for our knees to touch, like sixteen year olds on a first date. "It was wonderful. The massage started off very professional, avoiding anything inappropriate, even more than last time. We were chatting more easily than before, so I decided to be brave and asked him to work on my glutes. This time he didn't get freaked out. He rolled the sheet down exposing all of my butt. His hands felt great and I felt myself getting turned on. When I turned over the sheet was so thin I am sure he could see everything anyway, so I pulled it off me. I was completely naked. I told him it was okay if he wanted to touch me. I think I kind of seduced him. He was worried that I was married, so I told him you weren't the jealous type and that we fantasized about it. He told me that he had been thinking about me ever since our last massage and how much he had wanted to touch me then. I told him to show me. It felt so good.... I came a lot."

She paused to see how I was reacting. I could see it all in my mind's eye: her naked form on the table, his hands feeling her breasts, his fingers buried inside her and her back arching as her orgasm made her cry out. It made for a fantastic scene, exactly what we had imagined could happen.

"He's uncircumcised, which was different. It was great having him in my mouth." My brain was flooded with a whole new series of images. "He came on my chest. He was never inside me," she said, simply.

Her matter-of-fact tone was calming, designed to allay any worries I might have had. I trusted her account instinctively and completely. "How did he come? His own hand, or yours?" I asked. I didn't mind either way: both answers were exciting in different ways. I wanted to have the right picture in my head for the narrative my imagination was building.

"Mine. It felt good to give him pleasure."

"You do that so well," I said. "If it felt half as good for him as when you do it to me he was a lucky guy indeed."

"So you're okay?" she asked.

"It would hardly be fair of me to encourage you to go for it and then be pissed when it happened, but yes, I am okay with it. More than okay. It sounds amazing. I am going to have fun imagining you on that massage table for a long time!"

She let my hands drop, swiveled and rested her head in my lap. I put my hand up under her shirt and slipped it under the delicate fabric of her bra, thinking of his hands there. "It was different, you not being there," she said. "I haven't had time to work out how I feel about it. In some ways it was less complicated, but in others it was much closer to being unfaithful." I hadn't expected that. I removed my hand, brushed the hair away from her forehead with it and cupped her cheek, moving my thumb in a comforting motion.

"Don't even think about it," I said. "Do you remember that tee shirt we saw someone wearing once, 'It's not cheating if my husband is watching'? I may not have been there to watch, but you went with my full blessing for whatever happened. You weren't being unfaithful, you were acting on a fantasy we have shared often. I am glad you went, and glad that it happened."

She looked at me, and smiled. "So am I. I can already hardly believe it..."

I affected a serious face. "There is one important question, though."

A moment of concern flashed across her face like a cloud over the sun.

"When is your next massage?"

--------------

The very next morning Jane heard that she had finally got that promotion, and the whirlwind of the next few weeks pushed everything else to the back burner. She spent four days away at a conference and as soon as she got back there were what seemed to be countless hours overseeing the re-organization she had proposed, changes she now had the authority to make. But eventually things settled and, with less pressure at work, she began to feel more like her old self.

She started going to the gym again, and eventually scheduled another massage with Jason. She came back from it with a broad grin on her face and an insatiable need to make love to me long into the night. An idea began to form in my mind, and a couple of days later I phoned Jane's parents to arrange for our daughters to spend the upcoming long weekend with them.

Jane overheard the end of the call. "Why did you ask Mom and Dad to take the kids?" she asked, a bit puzzled, because I hadn't discussed it with her.

"Because I think it's about time I met Jason," I replied, calmly.

"What?" Jane looked stunned.

"Well, don't you?" I asked. "You've had two amazing encounters with him and I love hearing about all the details, but I'd rather see them. I'd rather hear you coming than hear about it. I'd rather see him pleasure you than have to imagine it. I'd like to see his cock in your hand, or your tongue and lips driving him crazy." I paused to let it all sink in, then added, "and, if it felt right, to join in."

She thought about it. "Like Chantelle," she said.

"Like Chantelle. Exactly like Chantelle," I repeated for emphasis.

"You mean...?" She was incredulous.

"If that's where it goes and what you want in the moment, then yes. You gave me a great gift when you said I could make love to Chantelle. If you decide in the heat of the moment that you want Jason inside you..." I let my voice tail off.

Jane sat down on the sofa and was silent for what seemed like ages. "How would we arrange it?" she asked.

"I hadn't thought that far ahead," I replied evenly. "I just wanted to clear the decks this end in case you wanted to make it happen."

"What if he doesn't want to?" Jane asked reasonably.

"I suspect you underestimate your powers of persuasion," I said. "If he doesn't we'll just have to manage to have a great time by ourselves, alone in the house. I am sure we'll be able to come up with something."

"What if it freaks him out too much?"

"You don't have to tell him 'my husband wants to watch what you do to me during our massages'. Just invite him round for a drink. Let's see what develops. If nothing happens, nothing happens. It's all good."

"I don't know. It feels kind of awkward." She frowned. "Is it weird to feel awkward about it?" she asked.

"It's not awkward for me, but then I am not in the middle," I grinned. "I'm hoping that's where you'll be..."

Jane got to her feet, put her arms around my shoulders and looked up at me. "What a nasty mind you have," she said playfully. "I'll think about it."

Was it my imagination, or was there an extra spring in her step as she walked away in to the kitchen?

--------

Jane

I couldn't believe it when Rob said he wanted to meet Jason. When I thought about it, however, it made sense from my end as well as his. Even though he knew I was going and I shared with him what happened, to consider scheduling another session with Jason felt like I was going behind Rob's back. Last time we had barely maintained the pretense that I was there for a massage, and it had taken all my self-control not to give in to my lust completely. I couldn't do that to Rob. Clearly, whatever it was that was developing with Jason wasn't sustainable in the long term. What Rob proposed would pull the focus back to us. The more I thought about it, the more it seemed the ideal solution. I loved Rob and didn't want to do anything that would cause him to question that. He knows me so well: he probably worked out why I so desperately needed him to reclaim me when I got home from Jason's. If he really did want me to take the safety wheels off--and I was still shocked at how much I had wanted Jason--it would be safer if it was in the context of a threesome.

I had no idea how Jason would react, or how to broach the subject with him. It was not the kind of conversation you have over the phone, and another massage appointment was out of the question. Fortunately that problem at least was solved when I bumped into him at the gym. He was in the middle of a workout as I was going into a body pump class. I asked him if we could go for a quick drink afterwards as I had something to ask him. I phoned Rob to let him know I that would be meeting Jason after the class to discuss his proposition.

I was barely able to concentrate on the instructions during the class. A million different scenarios were running through my mind at the same time and when the fifty minutes had elapsed my sports bra was completely soaked through and I was dripping copiously all over the floor around me, but I still had no idea what I was going to say. The instructor pulled me aside and asked "You were going like a demon all class, but you seemed distracted. Is everything ok?" I assured her everything was fine, that I had been using the class to exorcise some frustrations at work, and went to take a much needed shower.

The hot water calmed me a little, and I decided not to use the hairdryer or put on any make up: I didn't want there to be any misunderstanding that meeting Jason was a date. I toweled off, put my hair up in a bun and strode out of the locker room with as much confidence as I could muster.

Jason was standing there, waiting. He knew of a bar just round the corner--there always seems to be one near a gym--and he opened the door on to a dark, old-fashioned watering hole, complete with long, shiny wooden bar with a brass foot rail, probably the only one in town that didn't have loud music or monster TVs showing endless sports games. We selected a booth and ordered drinks.

We had never met socially, so our small talk was non-existent, and my nervousness was not helped by the fact that I kept on remembering that I had made him come on my chest. If I closed my eyes I could see the mother-of-pearl rivulets pooling in my navel. When my drink arrived I took a large, unladylike gulp.

"So, Jane," he said after taking only a small sip of his own, I noticed. "What's up? Why am I here?"

I still had nothing. "I'm not quite sure how to put it," I almost stammered, making myself keep my hands under the table so they wouldn't grab hold of my glass like a lifeline. "Rob and I have been talking..."

"And he wants you to stop seeing me," Jason interrupted. "If you really have been telling him everything I can hardly blame him," he added calmly.

Relief poured over me. I could have hugged him for the opening he had just given me. "No, that's not it," I said. "That's not it at all. In fact, just the opposite. He wants to meet you." Now it was out there, I allowed myself a small sip from my glass and then played with the stem, swirling it clockwise and counterclockwise as I surveyed his expression.

"Why?" was all he said. Many men would have said it with an exaggeratedly puzzled expression, hamming it up while they floundered for a response. Jason's face hardly changed at all, but I could still see the moment the penny dropped. "Ah," he said quietly.

I was grateful beyond words that I hadn't had to spell it out for him. "We were wondering if you would like to come round for a drink on Friday or Saturday, if you're free," I said, acutely aware that the banality of the social wording was absurdly at odds with what I was really asking.

He took a long time before answering, looking over my left shoulder with an unfocused gaze. "I have to confess I didn't see that coming," he said quietly, "but perhaps I should have."

I leaned forward and put my hand on his arm. "This is new for me too," I said. "I've told you a little bit about us, but whenever other people have been part of our intimacy it's always been spur of the moment. We've never tried to plan it before. It feels as unreal to me as it must to you..." I sat back and finished my drink in one go, feeling the alcohol warm my throat and go right to my head. Better not have another one, I thought. "If I've made a mess of it and offended you, I apologize..."

This time it was he who reached for my hand, placing it between his two. I remembered how soft his palms felt on my skin. "You didn't offend me, but you have to admit, it's not every day you get asked to..." his voice trailed off. "Give me a moment to wrap my head round it." At last he seemed to remember his drink, drained it in one go. I shook my head in response to his raised eyebrow as he signaled to the waitress to bring another.

"No, I'm good, thanks."

Fortunately she was speedy, and his second beer arrived quickly. He downed the first couple of inches right away and settled the glass on the logo-bearing beer mat in front of him. "You told me that you watched him with another woman once. Has he ever seen you with another man?"

Given what we were asking him to consider it was only fair to be honest. "We went to a club once and he watched two men seduce me on the dance floor. We went to a room where it got pretty steamy, kind of like my last massage only with two of them. Rob was watching the whole time, getting massively turned on. Then he came into the room, the others backed off and he made love to me while they watched." Now I wished I had ordered that second drink. "Actually, by that time we had quite an audience."

"And the other guys?" he asked. We both knew what he was asking.

"No, that was all. They went their way, we went ours." I reached for his beer. "May I?" He nodded and I took a big swig. "Now you know. Compared to some we are probably pretty tame." I pushed his glass back towards him. I couldn't tell what he was thinking. "Apart from that, everything else is just our fantasies..."

"And me massaging you has been part of your fantasies together?" he asked bluntly.

"Yes," I said. I couldn't believe how brazen I was being. Without asking I reached for his beer and took another gulp. "A lot."

"Keep it," he said, nodding to the glass, still in firmly in my grip. "You seem to need it."

I raised it towards him in thanks and took a sip. "I do. I haven't had much practice at asking... you know... and, as you can see, I'm a little nervous."

"Why?" Again, the one-word directness. There was no judgement in his eyes, he just asked the question and waited patiently for a reply. His quiet self-assurance calmed me. It was a good question. I had achieved success at work in what was a very male-dominated environment, and more than held my own in many a heated meeting. I had kept my head and come out on top when clients actively tried to undermine me because I was a woman, and I had been promoted over my male colleagues. So why was I behaving like a high-school cheerleader asking the quarterback out? I clawed my way back to my business mind. The worst outcome here was that he might say no: the world would not end, I would still have a husband who adored me and who I loved having sex with. The only negative outcome would be that I would have to find a new masseur.

I pushed the glass back towards him. I knew Jason desired me--I had the memories to prove it. Rob wanted to see Jason and I together. I wanted to feel Jason's hands on me again, and when I allowed myself to think about having their four hands on me and exploring both their bodies at the same time, finally giving in to the lust that I knew would overwhelm me, it was so intoxicating that I didn't need any more alcohol.

"You're right," I said, feeling my moxie rise as it did when I needed it to at work. "Thank you. I have no reason to be nervous. Let me start again." I looked directly into his eyes. "My husband would love to watch you give me pleasure. I want to show him all the things I have enjoyed doing with you. He would like to join in, and then I want to be part of a tangle of limbs with both of you, not knowing or caring who is touching me where...."

My God, did I just say that out loud? I hadn't allowed myself to realize what I wanted until I saw the words coming out of my mouth like speech balloons in a newspaper comic. I held my breath, waiting for Jason to respond.

"You don't do half measures, do you?" he said, smiling sardonically. "How could I say no?"

------------

Rob

When I turned the corner and reached our driveway Jason was already there, standing at the front door waiting to be let in. As I looked at my watch to turn off the work-out app, I noticed that he was exactly on time, and I couldn't decide whether I liked his punctuality or disliked his over-eagerness to be with Jane. I was also aware that my tee shirt was soaked and I was winded by the final hundred-yard sprint with which I always ended my runs.

When Jane had come home and told me that Jason had accepted our invitation, I was very excited. But, if I am honest, there was also a sensation of having stepped on to a train to an unknown destination that could now not be stopped. On the day itself Jane and I studiously avoided the subject, concentrating instead on getting the girls ready for their weekend with the grandparents. That achieved, when Jane said she was going upstairs to shower and get ready, after pacing around the den for five minutes I decided to go for a run to burn off the excess energy that was building like a heating teakettle.

I have a couple of favorite routes designed to have the option of adding an extra loop or two if I am feeling strong. Whether it was the afternoon sun that made it the perfect temperature for running, or the anticipation of what the evening might hold, I ended up not only taking my longest route but towards the end of it I glanced at my watch and calculated that I would still make it home to shower before Jason arrived, so I took the loop that would add an extra mile. It was only my second run of the spring, and although during the first few miles it had felt as if my feet were hardly touching the road beneath me, as soon as I took that right turn my legs began to feel leaden and my pace slowed. Sprinting that last few yards was hard work, and the last thing I wanted to see as I gasped for air was Jason, at least a decade younger than me, watching me pant my way up the driveway. But there he was. Regretting the decision to extend the run, and smiling wryly at my vanity, I stood as tall as I could and forced myself to breathe calmly, taking in much less air than my lungs were screaming for.

As I got closer I recognized him from the picture on the business card Jane had showed me. In person he was just as good looking, confident but not cocky, and with an easy air about him. I could see why she was attracted to him. "How far did you go?" he asked, without introducing himself. I experienced a split second of irritation at the question, but quickly realized that it was actually a very efficient way to navigate what was, after all, an unusual social situation: just how are you supposed to greet the husband of the woman you're hoping to have sex with that evening?

"About five miles," I replied, making a show of looking at the app on my watch and noticing that it was actually six and a half. "It's early in the year, so I am still getting back into the swing of things..."

He was about to respond when the door opened. Jane's face was a picture as, momentarily disconcerted, her eyes darted between her casually dressed masseur and her sweaty husband in a ratty old tee shirt and older shorts, not knowing which to address first. In the end she just laughed. "I see you two have already met."

I held my arms out wide. "Hey, I always like to make a good first impression. Why don't you take Jason out back while I grab a shower and return as a human being."

"Good idea, you stink!" said my loving wife, and stood aside so I could pass without touching her. "Follow me," I heard her say to Jason as I headed upstairs. "What can I get you?"

I took my time in the shower partly to let my body recover from its exertions and partly to give myself a little space. Jane had been naked with the young man at the front door: his fingers and been inside her and his cock had been in her mouth. I felt stirrings below at the thought that before the evening was out I would get to see them do everything she had described to me, and that I was going to encourage her to let him make love to her if she wanted to. To say that it was a head trip was an understatement. I closed my eyes and thought back to the moment that I had entered Chantelle, the newness and intensity of it. I wanted Jane to have that experience. After I stepped out of the shower and dried off it took a while before my erection subsided enough to be able to get dressed and head back downstairs. I grabbed a beer from the fridge and joined them outside.

As I walked towards them the atmosphere was light, and it looked like conversation was easy. I extended my hand to Jason. "Rob," I said, shaking his firmly, but being sure not to overdo it. I sat, sipped my drink gratefully and listened to them for a while, learning that he had dropped out of college and done some traveling abroad for a couple of years (we had been to some of the same places) before returning to the States. That would account for his self assurance, I thought. He obviously wasn't a trust-fund kid and must therefore have worked on his travels to be able to afford them. I waited for break in the flow of the conversation. "So, how did you get into the massage business?" I was genuinely interested: it wasn't the obvious choice for your average twenty-something American male.

"I was a sports science major," he answered simply, "so I already knew anatomy. I was going to specialize in therapies for track and field, exercises to improve range of motion, that kind of thing. When I got back, I needed a job. I gave a friend a massage one day and she said it was amazing and encouraged me to take it up professionally. So I took night classes to get the qualifications and dumped the nine to five as soon as I could. I worked for gyms for a while, then opened my own practice a little over a year ago."

"And you can make a living doing it?" I asked, and immediately wondered if I sounded like a disapproving parent questioning a career choice.

"Many do," he replied, without a trace of defensiveness. It would have been easy to be offended by the question, or to bluster as young men often do to try to impress: Jason showed neither tendency. I was beginning to like him. "Instead of maintaining a separate studio and paying two rents, I decided to work out of my apartment a couple of months ago. It's also much more convenient, especially if my schedule is light. Jane was my second customer there."

"Sounds like a great set up," I said, trying to be more positive than my previous effort.

"It really is," Jane said, adding to Jason, "You've decorated it beautifully."

"Thanks," he replied, smiling at her, and then turning to look at me. "And to answer the question that you're not asking but want to, Jane is the only one of my clients whose massages have become sexual. It's never come up with anyone else. If she hadn't been very clear that she wanted me to touch her--that you both wanted me to--it would never have happened."

Jane had mentioned he could be direct, and I found myself admiring the uncomplicated way he addressed the issue head on, speaking candidly and without innuendo. He didn't seem to feel at all uncomfortable talking with me about happened between him and Jane: he saw himself correctly as the third in a consensual trio, his presence in our home being the logical next step as the fantasy Jane and I enjoyed played out in real life instead of our imaginations.

"We're glad it did," I replied. I was also grateful that he had introduced the subject. I had been wracking my brain for a way to do so, but once again Jason had provided a natural segue. I held up my empty beer bottle. "I need a refill. Anyone else?" Jane took my cue.

"Why don't we all go inside? I feel like a cocktail and I don't remember what the choices are." She stood up, reached out one hand to Jason and one to me and we headed into the den. I went to the bar area to mix Jane's choice and I decided to join her. I found myself needing a little dutch courage and knew that Jane would relax more quickly with a little help, so I made them strong. Jason stuck to beer and Jane pointed him in the direction of the kitchen, which gave us time to check in. We both took a deep pull on our drinks.

"Are you still okay with this?" she whispered as she put her arms round my neck and kissed me.

"Absolutely," I replied and kissed her back. "I like him, and I think he gets us." I put on my best lewd smile. "I certainly think he's going to get you...." Normally Jane would have had a snappy comeback, but instead she kissed me again, more passionately.

"I love you," she said and pulled away when she noticed that Jason had returned from the kitchen with beer in hand and was watching us.

"I've never known a couple like you," he said. "So into each other, but completely without jealousy. The husbands I know would go crazy if they found out their wives came to see me..." For the first time his voice trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished, but the implication was very clear. Jane took another swig of her cocktail, draining the glass, then went up to Jason and put her arms round his neck in the same way she had put them round mine. She kissed him, at first tentatively and then more deeply.

"I love my husband," she said simply. "I also love the way I feel when you touch me. He wants me to experience that. It's one of the ways he shows me that he loves me," she added and kissed him again.

I moved towards them as they kissed so she could feel me standing right behind her. I kissed the back of her neck as I reached round and started undoing the buttons of her blouse. Without breaking their embrace, she dropped her arms to her sides so that it could slip to the floor, then raised them against Jason's chest. She was wearing her favorite black mesh bra and I knew that Jason would be enjoying seeing her nipples pushing gently against the see-through fabric. He ran his fingers lightly up and down her newly exposed spine and I felt her shiver.

Then she turned round to face me so that I could enjoy the view too, and took Jason's hands and lead them to the button on her skirt, inviting him to undo it. It joined her blouse on the den carpet and I saw through the filigree material of her underwear that she had spent a long time preparing for this evening: there was almost no bush to be seen, just the little required to invite exploration. "I thought you would approve," she said when she saw where I was looking and then closed her eyes as Jason's hands moved upwards and cupped her breasts, hiding them from my view.

I leaned in to kiss her while he squeezed gently, and reached behind her once more to undo the clasp that would free her breasts. Jane gave a quick intake of breath as she felt it give and realized that she was almost completely naked between Jason and me. She reached behind me and pulled me towards her at the same time as Jason's hands explored where there was now nothing to impede him. I ended the kiss and whispered into her ear "undress him."

She turned round again, and while I stroked upwards from the back of her thighs, she started unbuttoning Jason's shirt and ran her hands up and down his chest. She pushed his shirt off over his shoulders while they kissed with rising passion and I watched as his hands explored, hearing her moan of pleasure when he reached her exposed nipples. I knew that would trigger what she did next, which was to reach for his belt and undo the fastening. She then undid the top button of his jeans and pulled the zipper down. I heard the quiet thunk as the denim hit the ground and saw Jane's hands reach behind and start caressing Jason's buttocks. They were both now standing in their underwear, and I stepped back to watch in fascination.

Jason knelt down and started kissing Jane's breasts. She threw her head back in pleasure and let out a moan. His hands were all over her back, cupping her buttocks and slipping his hands under the delicate fabric before taking the fine edge between thumb and forefinger and pulling downwards. She was now completely naked and Jason's lips headed downwards, slowly caressing every inch towards the newly revealed flesh below. Jane looked over towards me as she tensed in anticipation of his tongue to reaching its goal. The moment it did she groaned out loud and put her hands on Jason's head to show him where exactly she wanted to be licked. The groans got progressively louder. I stood up, pulling my shirt over my head in the same motion and moved behind her, cupping her breasts and squeezing her nipples between thumb and forefinger. She leaned back against me and put her right leg over Jason's shoulder, to give his tongue easier access. I felt her first orgasm ripple over every inch of her body. "I love hearing you make that sound!" I said into her ear as her moans increased in intensity.

But I knew from the length and tone of her vocalization that she wasn't done yet. When the waves subsided she knelt down in front of Jason and pulled his boxers down. I stepped back to watch in fascination as she looked up at him and took his erection in her right hand. I had fantasized for so long about witnessing just this moment. I hadn't thought my own erection could get any harder, but as I watched Jane kiss the head of his penis and slowly slip it into her mouth I almost came without touching myself I was so excited. She began a slow rocking movement with her head, pulling it back until he was almost completely out of her mouth and then sliding forward until her lips touched his torso, swallowing every inch of him and eliciting a long gasp of pleasure. That was her cue to grab his buttocks and encourage him to make the motion himself, and I looked on in amazement as Jason began thrusting in and out of her mouth with a practiced rhythm that I knew they had developed together. Jane loved doing that when she was truly in the zone and I could almost feel with Jason the warmth of her mouth and the sensation of her tongue flicking lightly over his most sensitive places.

It wasn't long before I heard him say "no, not yet!" and pull out of her mouth: he wanted to delay coming as long as possible, and from Jane's wild abandon I had a good idea of how she wanted that to happen. As she stood and began to kiss Jason passionately I stepped out of the rest of my clothes and moved to stand behind her once more, pressing my erection against the small of her back. She was now sandwiched between two men who could hardly wait to be inside her, one erection pressing into her stomach, the other teasing her buttocks. "You want him, don't you?" I whispered into her ear and slid my lips down to kiss just below it. Jane sighed as much at the multiple sensations she was experiencing as at the moment of realization of all the fantasies we had shared. This was the point of no return, the final frontier of all our explorations. She broke off the kiss and turned to me, looking deeply into my eyes. I felt Jason moving behind her in the same way I had just been, and I imagined his penis in between her cheeks, still slippery from her mouth and edging downwards towards where we all knew it wanted to go. I was sure she was so ready to receive it that if he crouched down a little he could enter her whenever he wanted to.

"Yes," she said.

I picked her up and she wrapped her legs round my waist as I carried her to the sofa. I could have gone inside her myself right there and then, and I was sorely tempted. It was one of our favorite ways when we were feeling this wild, my hands holding her up as she impaled herself on me, controlling her own speed and angle to maximize her pleasure. But tonight I wanted Jason to be the first one inside her, for Jane to feel the intensity and newness of a different lover before the familiar sensations of the husband she had been making love to for twenty years.

I lay her down on the part of the sectional that has no back or sides, as we had done when she told me of her first massage with Jason. What was about to happen was the direct result of our love making that evening, the wild fantasies that we never dreamed would be realized. "Go for it, my darling," I said and kissed her long and deep. I moved to one side, motioned to Jason and watched spellbound as he moved between Jane's legs, the tip of his erection glistening with pre-cum. Gently he ran his hands up the inside of her thighs, and then leant forward and ran his lips slowly down her torso to delay the moment, bringing her to a state of almost unbearable anticipation.

In my fantasies about this moment, I had never been able to decide whether I would rather watch the new cock enter her or be looking into her eyes to see her reaction to the sensations of another lover. When it actually happened I was glad to feel the connection with Jane as her eyes widened in surprise, her mouth stretched into an 'O' of delight as she gasped and her back arched as he filled her completely. She came a little almost straightaway, her body glad to be rid of the tension that had been building, but I knew that was far from the end of her pleasure. I moved away to give them some privacy.

It was a little surreal watching them, totally involved in each other and each focusing on the pleasure of the other. Jason was a thoughtful lover, beginning slowly and responding to the nuances of her movements and cries of pleasure, speeding up at times and slowing down at others, sometimes teasing her on the outside and then thrusting deep and slow causing Jane to release low, guttural moans. When she finally came it was with a long aria of ecstasy, and I was sure she would leave scratch marks on his buttocks as her fingernails dug in while she pulled him in ever deeper.

Somehow Jason managed not to come--in the back of my mind I couldn't help but admire his staying power--and I saw to my surprise that Jane wasn't done either. Instructing him to lay on his back, I watched her impale herself on him and knew exactly what she wanted. I stepped forward. As we both knew so well, that part of the sofa was the perfect height, and as she began to ride him I slid my now almost painful erection into her mouth and closed my eyes as wave after wave of pleasure rolled over me as its warmth and the movements of her tongue, refined over many years, overwhelmed me. When I opened them again it was almost a shock to see Jason there, underneath her, while she rode wild-eyed with total abandon and panting though her nose with exertion as my cock slid in and out between her soft lips. The combination of the sensations and the visual image was too much for me: my back spasmed and it felt as if the whole contents of my balls were expelled in one long, insane howl. I stepped back and saw the silvery threads drop from Jane's mouth onto her chest and Jason's torso. Finally able to breathe through her mouth, she started riding even faster and when Jason too could hold back no longer, the extra thrust of his orgasm almost threw her off the sofa and she grabbed hold of him with extra desperation until the final ripples of astonishment and desire subsided and she could move no more. She almost fell off him and collapsed onto the carpet.

We were all silent for a long while. I went to Jane and she put her arms around me and we held each other tenderly. When we felt Jason stir on the sofa, she went to him and lay down next to him, her head on his chest. I went and sat down next to both of them, stroking Jane absently while I tried to think of something to say. They looked good together. We all looked good together.

I suppose it shouldn't have been a surprise that it was Jason who broke the silence. "You guys are amazing," he said looking at both of us, and then to Jane "you are so beautiful."

Jane raised herself and kissed him "Thank you," she said, simply, "you're an amazing lover." She then came over to me and kissed me. "Thank you, she said. "You're an amazing husband."

She looked down at herself, at the cum drying on her chest and running down her thighs. A satisfied smile crossed her lips as she looked at both Jason and I. "I think I need to go and clean up... if the two of you have left me any energy and I can still walk...."

After Jason left we looked at each other in disbelief, and went upstairs where we made love with less frenzy and energy, but no less passion. "Did you like having Jason inside you?" I asked as I began rocking slowly in an out of her. "Did he feel good?"

"God it was amazing!" she said as her body synchronized her motions with mine. "Thank you for letting me have that. He was just different, like Chantelle. He was very exciting, but he isn't you." I started moving faster as I remembered him thrusting into her. She sensed what I was thinking. "Did you like watching?" she asked, knowing the answer. "Did it turn you on?" My reply was to thrust deeper. "Reclaim me, my darling," she said as I came for the second time that evening. We lay in each others arms, reliving selected moments until we fell asleep.

--------

Afterwards we decided that it would be best if Jane found another masseur. We saw Jason again twice more, but never quite captured again the magic of that first time. Once he brought a female friend with him and we tried what I believe is called a 'full-swap foursome.' It might work for some, but we found it strangely unsatisfying. Eventually he started dating a young twenty-something who made it quite clear that it was her or us. Jane half expected him to choose us as she couldn't imagine him being hemmed in in that way, but I think we were both secretly relieved when he chose her. We had fulfilled our fantasy and realized that the logical conclusion of continuing down that path was an 'open' marriage, which neither of us wanted.

While, as the saying goes, you should 'never say never', we are content with our sex life and the memory of our adventures continues to inspire us. But, if the right opportunity arises in the future, who knows what might happen?