Now that my husband had given me his permission to play with anyone I’d like, I feel as though a great gift has been given to me. I can just be natural and free and see where experiences take me. On the recommendation of a girlfriend, I booked a massage at a new spa in town. I hadn’t had many massages, but if she raved about it so much, I figured I should try it as well. I got undressed and hopped up onto the table. The room was dimly lit with lovely, fragrant candles lit and soft New Age type music playing with pan flutes and chimes and no particular melody. There was a lovely atmosphere here and I was happy to just relax and enjoy myself for the day getting pampered. My husband peter made a great living and we were well off, so days at the spa were no worry whatsoever.

I was laying face down and heard the door close. A man that introduced himself as Sven. He pulled down the sheet that was partially covering me, leaving only my buttocks covered and I heard him opening a snap top bottle of oil and then rubbing his hands together before rubbing it all over my back and shoulders. It felt wonderful, just divine. I was relaxing so well and so thoroughly, I thought I might fall asleep. I had my eyes closed and was just enjoying the sensations. He worked my back, shoulders, legs and feet before having me flip over. I lay there and he asked if I was modest and cared about the sheet, as it was just as easy if it was out of the way. I didn’t care, so he tossed it aside. He worked those strong hands all over my body. He asked if it was ok to do my breasts, not all women are ok with that, so he wanted to check first. I said it was fine.

He massaged them and oiled them and my body was soon betraying me and my nipples were getting hard. He toyed with them a bit and when I didn’t stop him, he continued to go further than perhaps some women would want. He massaged my belly and my upper thighs and hips and he lightly grazed my pussy lips with his hand, as if by accident. He didn’t come right out and ask, but my parting my legs to give him easy access gave him the go ahead he needed to proceed. It’s not just men that get happy endings to their massages.

He drizzled some oil down my slit and then began to slowly and careful massage my pussy lips from the outside. I was in heaven. He worked his skillful hands all over me and then finally dipped his fingers into my wetness. He smeared the wetness from my pussy and the oil together and caressed my clit up and down until I was breathing nice and heavy. I knew he was not going to start moving quickly, nor did I want him to. He went slow and easy and alternated the pressure of how he touched me, firmly then gently, almost to a tickle like touch and then firm again. He found out which sort of touch I best responded to and then he repeated it over and over and I was practically writhing there on the table as he rubbed me to orgasm. I knew I had to remain quiet, since I didn’t want other spa clients hearing me cum, that wouldn’t have exactly been appropriate, but in all likelihood they too were having their own happy ending massages, but we all had to be discreet about it and just bite our lips and enjoy the sensations.

I loved it, and he made me feel so good, needless to say I gave him a generous tip and would be sure to return there and recommend the spa to all my friends. I then slipped into the adjoining bathroom and had a long, hot shower and left there feeling like a million bucks. I practically purred as I drove myself home. I was sure to tell my husband Peter al about my spa adventures when I got home and I know he loved hearing every sinful detail of my visit.