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Guys, drop your insights in the comments if you’re still interested. I’m reading every single one and honestly I need to know if this still sounds as fucked up to you as it feels to me right now.
Note: I wrote 5 parts of my story in another subreddit. This is a walkthrough story that I am actually living right now. I will keep posting a new part every day until it catches up to the present, and then I’ll update whenever something new actually happens.
I had a call on Monday. He sounded exactly like he did the night we all sat down excited, a little nervous, talking fast. He said they’d talked it over and they both wanted to start with the massage option we’d agreed on. Just that soft start, no pressure, see where it goes. He wanted to set it up for Tuesday, but I told him I had to push it to Thursday. I made up some bullshit about work, but the truth was my brain wouldn’t shut the fuck up. The guilt was sitting on my chest like a brick. Everything had moved so fast the parking lot talk, the four options, her looking me dead in the eyes and saying “yes.” I kept telling myself it was just going to be a massage, one-time thing, nothing more. I’d keep it under control no harm, no foul.
Thursday night I drove over anyway. The whole way there I was arguing with myself in my head, turn around, go home, this is insane. But I didn’t. I parked, took a deep breath, and walked up like it was any other night of beers and talks.
My friend met me at the door with that same pumped up smile. She wasn’t in the living room yet. Fifteen minutes later she came out from the bedroom. Same ponytail and same shy smile that didn’t quite reach her gray eyes. She gave me a quick hug I could feel how tense her whole body was then sat down on the couch across from me. The three of us started talking about nothing, work, weather, some game that was on last weekend. All of us knew exactly why I was there, but nobody wanted to be the first one to say it out loud.
After a while the small talk just died. The room got that thick, awkward silence again. My friend finally cleared his throat and said, “You remember we have that massage table, right?”
“Yeah,” I said, trying to sound casual. “You showed me when you guys bought it.”
She immediately looked down at the floor, hands twisting in her lap again.
He asked, “So, you want me to leave the house, or just go hang out somewhere else while you guys do this?”
My heart started hammering so hard I swear they could hear it. This was the moment, she was wiping her hands on her jeans, nervous as hell. I told him, “You can go outside for a bit. I’ll text you when we’re done talking, or whatever.”
He stood up. She grabbed his hand fast, like she didn’t want him to leave. He leaned down, kissed the top of her head, and said real soft, “Enjoy your time, guys.” Then he walked out and shut the door behind him.
Holy shit it was too fast, too bold. I was sitting there thinking, what the fuck am I actually doing?
We were alone, dead silent for a good ten minutes. I kept checking my phone like an idiot and she was doing the same thing. Neither of us wanted to be the one to start it. I finally forced the words out: “You wanna start now?”
Her voice was shaking. “Okay.”
I said, “After you.”
She got up and walked to the bedroom. I know that room like my own I helped him paint the walls last summer, and he’s helped me fix stuff at my place a dozen times. They had everything ready. Massage table in the middle, bottles of oil, clean towels stacked up, even moved the bed over to make space. I’d watched a bunch of massage tutorial videos all week so I wouldn’t look like a total amateur.
She stopped by the table and asked, voice small, “Do you mind if I keep my clothes on?”
I laughed a little, nervous. “How am I supposed to put oil on you with clothes on?”
She didn’t answer, just looked at the floor again. I told her, “I’ll step out. You get undressed, lie down, and cover up with the towels. Take your time.”
I waited in the hallway. It felt like forever. I knocked softly after a while and asked, “You fall asleep in there?”
“No,” she said. “I’m ready.”
I opened the door. She was face down on the table, two big towels covering her from shoulders to just below her ass. I started on her shoulders. She was so tense it felt like rubbing concrete. I kept asking, “Pressure okay?” “Too hard?” She’d just nod or mumble “fine.”
After a few minutes I folded the top towel down to her waist. She was still wearing her bra a green one. Her skin was so smooth and warm. I’d always seen her as my buddy’s normal, nice wife. But right then, with oil on my hands and her breathing getting slower, I realized how fucking sexy she actually is.
I worked her back, her arms, her shoulders. She finally started to relax. I thought, Okay, I’m not terrible at this. Then I moved down to her legs and feet. My eyes kept drifting up to her ass under that green thong. It looked perfect. I worked my way up her calves, then her thighs. She let out this little moan the first time my hands slid high. She shifted her hips a tiny bit, like she was telling me it was okay to go higher. So I did, slowly, my fingers brushed the inside of her thighs, then grazed right against her pussy through the thin fabric. She moaned louder, actually shivered.
OMG, she was so sensitive. In that second I knew this was going to be way more fun than I’d let myself admit.
I got bolder I reached up and unhooked her bra. She didn’t stop me, I massaged her arms again, letting my hands brush the sides of her tits on purpose. Sometimes she’d tense and shift away. Sometimes she’d push back into my touch like her body was begging even if her mouth wouldn’t. At one point I moved her arm and her hand accidentally brushed right over my cock. I was rock hard. She jerked her hand away fast, but the way her breath caught that was hot as hell.
I poured more oil and went straight for her ass. I worked it deep, thumbs sliding along her inner thighs, grazing her pussy again and again. She was breathing heavier, ass pushing back into my hands. I wanted so bad to just pull that green thong to the side and bury my face in her, but I held back.
“Flip over,” I said, voice rough.
She asked me to cover her with the towels first. I did, looked away while she turned. When I looked back her eyes were closed tight, like she was trying to hide from me even though she was basically naked. I started on her shoulders again, then let my hands slide down toward her chest without moving the towel yet. Her face was flushed red, lips parted. I’d never really looked at her like this before, up close, breathing hard, completely at my mercy.
My cock was throbbing. I finally slid my hands under the towel and cupped her tits. She caught my wrists and let out this nervous little laugh. “Hey!”
I just said, “Relax,” and kept going. She held on for a second, then her grip loosened. Her bra had come completely undone when she flipped. I had her whole tits in my hands, soft and heavy, nipples already hard. I flicked them with my thumbs. She jumped, moaned, back arching off the table.
I pulled the towel all the way off. Her tits were beautiful full, pale, with these perfect pink nipples. I wanted to suck on them so bad, but I made myself wait. I slid my hands down her stomach, around her pussy over the thong. She jumped again. Then suddenly, she reached up and started playing with her own nipples while I worked her thighs.
Fuck it, I hooked my fingers in the waistband of her green thong and slid it down. Her pussy was right there pink, tight, completely shaved, clit swollen and sticking out. She didn’t close her legs. She opened them wider, still playing with her tits.
I poured more oil and touched her clit. She bucked like I’d shocked her. I rubbed slow circles, then slid two fingers inside her she was soaked. I found her G-spot and she started moaning loud “Fuck, it feels so good. oh god” moving her hips like a porn star, I thought that shit was fake until I saw it in real life.
While I fingered her I finally leaned down and sucked one of her nipples into my mouth. The oil tasted weird, kind of sour, but I didn’t care. Two minutes of that and she came harder than I’ve ever seen a woman come. Her whole body shook, she was gasping, fighting for air, one hand gripping the back of my head to keep my mouth on her tit, the other hand clamped over mine, pushing my fingers deeper while she rode the orgasm.
Then she suddenly grabbed my wrist and pulled my hand away.
I asked, breathing hard, “You okay?”
“Yeah,” she whispered, eyes still closed. “I just need to rest.”
I sat there for a second, cock aching, every instinct screaming at me to climb on the table and fuck her right then. But she looked, I don’t know. Not upset exactly, but done. Like she’d hit a wall.
I asked, “You want me to leave?”
She nodded. “Yes please.”
I wiped my hands on a towel, walked out, went downstairs to the bathroom to wash the oil off, and left the house without texting him. My phone has been in my hand the whole drive home and I still haven’t heard anything. They haven’t texted me yet.
I keep telling myself I did it right slow, respectful, gave her an out. But now the guilt and the stress are worse than before. I don’t know if she’s embarrassed, or if she loved it and just panicked, or if I went too far too fast. I still don’t know what the fuck happens next.
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