Lizzie At The Spa

 My boss is a razor-sharp young blonde woman and the hardest worker I have ever met. She's everything I wish I'd been at that point in my career, but I never had the drive, and I'm kidding myself when I daydream, "That could be me."

Rose is a consultant cardiologist at 35 years old, and she has my unending respect and admiration, which she would have regardless of how she looked.

However, Rose is beautiful—stunning, in fact—and has a smoking hot body that she dresses to accentuate.

Lizzie, my Wife, jokingly threatens to kill Rose regularly.

I think she’s joking.

I was at my desk in my home office—an indulgent oak affair with a green leather insert and ornate moldings. It weighs about 200 Kilos, and my laptop was so lost in its expanse that I added some large monitors to fill some space.

I was on a video call. My team members were rendered in small squares around the edge of the screen, and Rose filled the rest of the space as she addressed us.

The topic was boring, but I was happy to sit there staring at my boss, her blonde curls skimming the desk in front of her as she bowed her head to read aloud the document on her desk. This also afforded me, and all the other men on the call, a great view of the rounded tops of her perfect tits as her shirt, the top 3 buttons open against the summer heat, fell open, and her black lace bra came into view every time her head dropped.

I was so engrossed, my cock hard as I daydreamed about slowly unfastening the rest of those buttons and letting the shirt slide off of Rose’s shoulders, that I didn’t hear Lizzie enter the room.

Standing behind me, Lizzie dropped a hand onto my shoulder.

“She really is a wonderful-looking woman."

I looked up at my Wife, her eyes fixed on the screen. Fortunately, as always, the camera blurred the background of my office for privacy, and it would not be that unusual to see a family member move in and out of view during team meetings these days.

All that really mattered was that my microphone was muted as Lizzie, who hadn’t checked as far as I could tell, said, “I can see why you want to fuck her – she’d look great riding your cock, Martin.”

I chuckled. I had shared this particular fantasy with my highly broad-minded Wife. She immediately encouraged me to go into detail about exactly what I wanted to do with Rose as she masturbated with a small vibrator on the sofa – this being a year or so ago when Rose first joined the team.

Silently, Lizzie dropped to her knees and crawled under my desk. Sitting on her haunches, she pushed my legs open and shuffled forward between them, hidden entirely from the view of the camera; she pulled my zip fly open and pulled my hard cock out.

"My, you really do like her, huh?" Murmured my Wife.

Lizzie began to slowly stroke my cock from tip to base; the pre-cum leaking from me already allowed her a little lubrication which she spread over the head of my cock with her thumb, gently pulling my foreskin down to afford her better access.

I groaned a little, my eyes still fixed on my monitor.

Lizzie’s voice drifted up, her manner distant and dreamy, “When I take you in my mouth, imagine it’s her. When you cum, say her name. Say “Rose” when you cum, I want you to do that for me.”

My cock gave a prolonged spasm as Lizzie spoke, then relaxed as I felt the familiar warmth of her lips parting over the wet head to take all of me into her mouth, slowly, slowly starting to move.

Lizzie held my cock at its base with one hand; the other she used to reach into my boxers and gently cup my balls, applying pressure so gradually that it was barely noticeable at first.

As my Wife gave me her head under my desk, her mouth moving faster, her hand cupping my balls more tightly with each passing minute, I could hear her breathing getting louder, and I knew that she was turned on. Lizzie loves giving head – the control, the power of giving or denying that feeling to a man.

My hips were pushing involuntarily up from my chair, meeting Lizzie’s lips as they touched my tummy with each stroke, my cock deep in her mouth.

I felt myself begin to cum – Lizzie did too, her hand now squeezing my balls almost painfully tight – nearly but not entirely.

She stopped moving and spoke, her voice strangled by her completely full mouth. I felt saliva and pre-cum run down my cock to my tummy as she relaxed her lips enough to be able to grunt, "Say it", three times in quick succession, the third and last time as close to a shout as she could get.

Losing control, I shouted, rather than say, "Rose… FUCK… ROSE!" as I emptied my balls and sent spurt after spurt of my hot, thick semen into Lizzie's mouth, my cock in spasm and my balls, tight in her fist, contracting again and again.

As I came, I stared at Rose's tits, hair and face on the monitor, listening to my Wife noisily gulp and swallow.

When it was over and I regained composure, Lizzie, still breathing loudly, her face flushed, crawled out from under the desk and stood behind me again.

"I'll be a while", she said quietly as she ran her finger down my neck to my shoulder blades, leaving a warm trail of her cunt fluid on my skin.

“I need to deal with… that..”

Lizzie left the room, and I heard her light, fast steps on the stairs as I tried to refocus on my meeting, my slowly drying cock still hanging free between my legs.

Two days later, a treat for my Wife. Lizzie periodically has a bad back, the result of a childhood injury which, unless regularly maintained by a Chiropractor, can cause muscle spasms and cause her severe pain until it finally eases off.

In recent weeks, Lizzie had started to get some light cramping in her back, and for once, the chiropractor visits weren't wholly effective.

Knowing how good a genuine Thai Massage is for a sore back, I had booked an extended session for my Wife at a spa an hour's drive away. I had spent time carefully researching the place, ensuring the staff were trained to use genuine Thai practices, as many claim not to do.

The spa was attached to a luxury country hotel, and I’d decided an overnight stay would be an extra treat for us both.

After we checked in and dropped our bags in the comfortable room with idyllic views of a British country estate and grounds in peak summer, I went with Lizzie as she sauntered to the spa on the ground floor.

Holding open the polished oak door for Lizzie, I glanced down to admire her fantastic ass, her powder blue soft tracksuit following her delicious curves. The spa had advised wearing casual, loose clothing. I especially approved of Lizzie's choice – a white sports bra being the only thing she wore under her zipped-up matching top.

The spa was just as high-end as the website claimed. I was pleased when we were shown the treatment room, which featured a tasteful blend of modern and traditional furniture and décor. The lighting was subtle and appropriately dimmed, and the mood music was meditative with a nod to Asian origins.

Our attendant, a young woman dressed from head to toe in white, of course, told us that our masseur, Henry, would be along shortly and that Lizzie should undress to her panties and lay face up on the bed, a towel provided to cover her midriff to the top of her thighs, her small breasts exposed.

I made as if to leave – I had, or so I thought – an appointment at the hotel bar.

"No—stay, darling. You can talk to me. I don't want to talk to strangers about my holidays and their kids."

I smiled, “But you’re so fond of small talk.”

Lizzie made a noise, and I sat heavily on a stylish sofa against the wall – very low but surprisingly comfortable. I told my Wife I'd need help getting up.

“Not like you”, she chuckled.

The door opened, and in strode Henry. He was 25 or 26, at least 6 feet tall. His white polo shirt and black trousers stretched over an impressively muscular frame, his tanned forearms and biceps betraying a man who worked with his hands for a living.

Giving massages must keep you fit.

When Henry spoke, he somewhat ruined the illusion of a privately educated rugby player from a family pile in the home counties—he was Essex to the core.

Smiling wide and showing off his whitened teeth, which contrasted starkly with his deep tan, he said hello to us both.

Then he looked critically at Lizzie, prone on the bed, staring in evident admiration at him.

Henry wanted to know what Lizzie's problem was. I tried to tell him that at this exact moment, it was probably that she was wet between her legs. Still, Lizzie shook herself from her reverie, dragged her eyes to Henry's face and began to explain the history of her back issues.

Henry was clearly used to the level of attention women showed him. He gave no indication that he'd even noticed my Wife's eyes roving over his body when he'd first entered the room. He spent at least 10 minutes making notes and explaining his training and accreditations (he'd actually worked for a year in Thailand) before he even laid a finger on Lizzie.

"OK, let's have a look. Please turn over onto your tummy. I'll hold the towel while you turn."

Henry looked studiously away as he held the towel. Lizzie rotated onto her tummy before Henry draped it over her ass, which made a very pleasing hillock in the material, covering her white lace panties.

Using a small stone surface on a plinth to his left, presumably heated artificially in some way, Henry warmed his hands and placed them on my Wife's lower back. He talked softly to himself as he seemed to count vertebrae until Lizzie jumped slightly, and he stopped.

“There? Feels very tight.” He said.

“Yes – that’s it. Wow. Right there.” said Lizzie, tension in her voice as her back twinged at his probing fingers.

"Soon, have that worked out. Just relax."

I thoroughly enjoyed watching it. I had assumed Lizzie would be treated by a woman. Still, the appearance of a very handsome, well-built young man, who now had his large hands on my Wife's naked skin, had made me very interested, very fast.

And I was getting hard.

Henry was positioning Lizzie's limbs, gently moving her into position he used a hand on each bare ankle to open her legs a little – fuck that was hot – and picked her wrists up to drop her arms to her sides, again telling her to relax, which she seemed to be doing as I saw her begin to go limp.

Henry explained that Thai massage treated the whole body from head to toe, but he promised that Lizzie’s back would be better by the time he’d finished.

Face down, Lizzie could only mumble a word or two in reply as Henry, despite our earlier joking, explained that he would be silent unless she asked him something. He wasn't going to disturb the peaceful atmosphere that his craft required.

At this, Henry had glanced over to me, an eyebrow raised, and I had mimed zipping my lips closed, at which he smiled and returned his attention to my supine Wife.

Over the next 30 minutes, I listened to my Wife moan in satisfaction and release as Henry expertly manipulated her body – starting from her scalp, he had worked his way down her neck, shoulders and back, gently stretching her arms, hands and wrists as the tension visibly left her body.

Now Henry was kneeling between Lizzie’s legs, his weight pushing steadily through his flat palms to her lower back, aligning her bones and stretching her muscles.

Lizzie moaned again as his hands moved lower to her buttocks, and I realized with a start that this was a different moan – this was an involuntary noise Lizzie made when she was aroused.

Henry must have noticed; he spent a long time working on Lizzie's buttocks before moving to her thighs, both hands kneading the top of her right thigh, her legs parted further to accommodate him.

Lizzie was whimpering a little; I could hear her. Her arms were draped over the sides of the treatment bed now, and I saw with mounting excitement that she was grinding her hips a little as Henry moved his oiled hands over her toned thigh. Occasionally, Henry would gently hold my Wife's ankle and bend her leg at the knee, pointing the sole of her foot at the ceiling.

As he did so, he would stretch her hip tendons by firmly pushing against her thigh with his shoulder and bracing it with a hand on each side.

Lizzie was trembling as he swapped to her left thigh and began again.

Suddenly, my Wife's back arched, and her hands came up to push her shoulders away from the bed a little. Her head was hanging, and her hair touched the pillow as if doing a prolonged press-up.

Henry stopped moving, holding her thigh and waiting as she came.

"Oh… Fucking...hell….Jesus…" stuttered Lizzie, her voice hoarse.

When her orgasm had passed and she collapsed back to the bed, Lizzie apologized, saying she wasn’t sure what came over her – it had happened so fast.

Henry looked sheepish at me, but I smiled reassuringly back at him.

"I'm sorry. It's my fault. It happens sometimes. I must have brushed against your, well, you know... " Said Henry.

“Wet cunt”, I said in my head.

I could see that Henry’s bulging trousers hid an erection almost as big as mine. I wondered how often that happened, too.

“Do it again”, I said, my voice hoarse, “touch her again. Make her cum.”

Lizzie moaned in anticipation as I spoke. Henry stared at me, my Wife's calf and thigh still in his hands.

I held Henry’s gaze.

After a few seconds, Henry placed Lizzie's leg gently back on the bed, then, his movements suddenly urgent, threw the small towel over his shoulder and, sliding his hand rapidly up her thigh, pulled her panties to one side and pushed 2 fingers easily into her slick cunt.

Lizzie shrieked with delight and squirmed, pushing back against his hand with her hips raised from the bed. Not letting up, Henry drove a third finger into my Wife's cunt, and I stood, my hard-on leading me, and walked over to the bed, looking over Henry’s shoulder for a closer view as he knelt between her legs, finger fucking her.

Lizzie came again, her body shaking as she really let go, her cum dripping from her open, swollen cunt to cover the bed between her parted legs, and Henry’s hand.

Henry stood and, stooping, turned Lizzie onto her back like she weighed nothing.

Now I could see just how lost in pleasure Lizzie was; she was flushed from her shoulders to her forehead, stroking her own nipples, her eyes opening to stare hungrily at Henry.

Lizzie looked at me enquiringly.

“Fuck her.”, I said.

Henry did not pretend he hadn't heard me, ask if we were sure, or seek confirmation.

He pulled a very fair-sized cock out of the waistband of his elasticated uniform trousers and sprung easily from the floor to the high bed; kneeling once more between my Wife's open legs, he bent his back, his attention on his cock as he guided it with his hand into Lizzie's drenched cunt.

As he slipped quickly inside her, Lizzie groaned and draped her arms around his neck, telling Henry to fuck her, her knees bent, and her legs splayed as he started to thrust into her.

I was incredibly hard, I never tired of watching Lizzie with another man, and this was special – she was really into this guy.

The most erotic sharing happens when there is real passion between Lizzie and her partner, but it happens very rarely. I could see it now, though – Lizzie had her wrists crossed behind Henry's neck as he fucked her, hard, deep, her hips grinding against him and meeting each thrust.

“Kiss her, Henry.”, I murmured.

Again, no hesitation, no confirmation.

Henry dropped his face to Lizzie's and started kissing my Wife as passionately as I ever have.

Lizzie was going crazy, moaning and whimpering, her hands holding his face, then in his hair, then to feel his cock as it slid in and out of her – wetting her fingers from his shaft and pushing them, dripping, between their joined lips until they were clean of her cum.

I have never seen anything so hot – I came on the floor and stayed rock hard, still stroking my cock as I watched, steadying myself against the corner of the bed from my position behind Henry's bent back.

Lizzie had to break off from kissing Henry to open her mouth to breathe as she came on his cock – the noises she made were animal-like.

Sweat was covering her cheeks and neck, her nipples hard and erect. Henry took them in his mouth as she came, and then her tongue was seeking his again as her orgasm subsided.

They fucked like this for 4 or 5 minutes before Henry started to breathe raggedly, his thrusts losing their rhythm; he took his mouth from my Wife's and stared down at her.

Lizzie knew he was going to cum – she held his face in her hands, staring into his eyes with a look of pure ecstasy, silently urging him on.

As his orgasm approached, Henry braced himself against the bed, his palms flat on the surface on either side of Lizzie’s head and began to push himself up, meaning to withdraw.

Lizzie held his forearms, "No, no, no, no – stay inside me, cum inside me.." she pleaded.

Henry glanced over his shoulder at me. I answered his unspoken question by gently taking each of my Wife's ankles and pulling them firmly towards me before wrapping Lizzie's legs around his back.

Lizzie crossed her ankles and pulled him deep into her.

Henry was staring into my Wife's eyes as he came inside her, and he came for a long time. He was quiet, but he trembled, and his arms nearly gave way, his whole body rigid as he pumped his cum into Lizzie's cunt.

I waited patiently, wordlessly, cock in hand, as Lizzie and Henry kissed gently, and he finally pulled his softening cock out of her and stood.

I took his place immediately and, pushing my cock into the wet, open, slack and used cunt of my Wife, began to fuck her.

Lizzie and I kissed even more passionately than she had with Henry, and I felt her cunt begin to tighten on my cock as she came again.

Henry watched on, spent, as I turned my Wife over and, reaching down to part her ass cheeks, slid my cock quickly and smoothly into her asshole – lubricated by the stream of her cum which had been running from her cunt for the last 20 minutes.

I could only last for another couple of minutes. As soon as I felt Lizzie cum again, her ass squeezing hard on my cock as it contracted – I emptied myself inside her.

I was the first to leave the room. Using a towel to wipe myself down, I went back to our room and lay, dozing, on the bed.

When Lizzie arrived, she was fragrant, with wet hair fresh from the shower.

Lizzie dropped onto the bed next to me, and we stared at each other silently for some minutes.

"That was good.", understated my Wife, smiling, her fingertips on my lips.

"That was very good." I smiled back.

After a pause, Lizzie said, “We did more, after you left.”

I felt my cock twitch again.

“Tell me.”