My wife, Beth, and I were having a small party at our house—playing host to friends who scattered themselves about our living room, our dining room, our kitchen and even our back yard.
People sat or stood in small groups, chatting with each other and, I think, having a good time.
Some were holding a drink, others were enjoying the food we put out.
Music played quietly from a couple of small, bluetooth speakers.
It was a nice way to spend a Saturday and the weather was great.
I was sitting at our dining room table, talking with a few friends, one of whom I had known since college...which was 20 years behind us now.
Like me, my friend from college, Jenn, was in her early 40s these days but she was still a shapely woman who looked ten years younger. She had a bright personality, stood about 5'7" on a pair of good-looking legs, had light brown hair with brown eyes and hefty boobs...which, I regret to say, I never once got to play with.
For all the years we had known each other, it seemed either Jenn was involved with someone or I was so, despite what I think was a mutual attraction we had for each other, we settled into a platonic friendship.
Maybe that was for the best, too. I liked Jenn but I also knew the darker side of her personality.
She had high standards a mercurial temper. I had seen her go off unexpectedly on people. Jenn's fury could be intense but she usually got over it just as quickly, too.
Fortunately for me, I was never the target of Jenn's ire. We always got along.
Jenn never married but she had her share of boyfriends over the years.
I had heard about all of them: the incredibly romantic guy who could disappear for two or three weeks at a time and then suddenly be back in Jenn's life, offering only vague explanations for his disappearance. I didn't much trust the guy and I encouraged Jenn not to trust him either. It took her about a year and a half to take my advice.
Then there was the abusive boyfriend Jenn thought she could change. She didn't.
There was the really sweet guy who had, in Jenn's own words, "the smallest dick I ever saw on a grown man." Despite that shortcoming, they were an item for about a year.
Then there was the much older guy whose "schlong was covered in smelly foreskin," according to Jenn. That relationship didn't last too long.
And there were a few others, too.
The point is, Jenn confided in me...she trusted me and I trusted her.
We always looked out for each other's best interests.
Over the years, we became so comfortable together and knew each other so well that some friends thought we had become lovers...or maybe had once been lovers who, now, were now simply old friends.
My own wife, back in the days when we just started dating, suspected that Jenn was an old girlfriend of mine. I'm not sure Beth ever believed the truth about us.
So getting back to the party, there we were—a small group sitting around my dining room table, talking about what we were up to...vacations we recently had ...how our jobs were going...and it was then that Jenn mentioned she was taking classes to learn how to do therapeutic massage.
This seemed to quiet the conversation for a moment and, I'm sure, all the guys thought about this sexy, busty woman giving them a handjob on a massage table.
I thought about it too, of course, but I also knew Jenn wasn't a slut. I accepted her studies to be a legitimate endeavor toward a respectable, health-oriented career and I was sure she would do well at it.
Perhaps to prove to the guys around the table that she was on the level, Jenn even offered a free therapeutic massage to anyone who would let her practice on them while she was pursuing her license.
I don't think any of us expected to hear that.
All the guys perked up at Jenn's offer but, with their wives sitting or standing nearby and within earshot, none of them took Jenn up on her offer.
I remember Jenn looked pointedly at me, briefly, when she made her free massage pitch and then she looked over toward Beth, who was listening to this conversation from the kitchen, just a few feet away.
Jenn added, "I can even do a couples massage."
Beth looked over from the kitchen counter, smiled and said, unconvincingly, "Oh?
Maybe
...."
Jenn's offer to do a couples massage killed any momentary, erotic thoughts I had about the pleasures of a private massage from her but I appreciated the show of respect she had for my marriage.
Little did Jenn know that my marriage was in shambles.
Beth and I looked like a happy, stable couple despite the fact that sex had long disappeared from our relationship. I didn't know why. Beth just began freezing up on me...shutting me out.
I tried talking to her about it on numerous occasions but she never said much and seemed uncomfortable with the whole subject.
So I didn't press the matter, hoping things would one day get back on track between us but that seemed less and less likely with each passing year.
I just suffered and did my best to keep my marriage together, masturbating a lot and, yes, occasionally fucking some other women when I had the opportunity...which was not too often.
After the party, I brought up Jenn's offer with Beth who, as I anticipated, had absolutely no interest whatsoever in getting a massage.
I didn't expect that a massage from Jenn would lead to sex or even a "happy ending"—a lot of that is just porn theater—but I did crave the touch of a woman's hands on my body...and the relaxation of a massage sounded wonderful.
I kept Jenn's offer in mind.
* * *
About a week later, while I was on the road, I decided to give Jenn a call. Aside from wanting to ask her how she enjoyed the party, I figured I would inquire about her offer for a free massage.
"Sure, I'll give you one," Jenn said, sounding pleasant and enthusiastic. "Will Beth be there, too?"
"Ahh...no," I admitted, feeling like I was insulting Jenn. "I did ask her after the party but she wasn't interested."
The negative news didn't seem to bother Jenn. "Okay," she responded nicely, "when would
you
like to come over?"
"Well where would I be going?" I asked.
"Here...my house," Jenn answered, still sounding upbeat.
"Oh," I said, a little surprised.
I had envisioned going to a spa somewhere.
"Well when would be a good day and time for you?" I asked, wondering if I could sneak away from home to get the massage.
I hated being sneaky about it but I knew Beth would object and I was aching for a release of the tensions I lived with all the time now.
"You can come over today if you'd like," Jenn told me.
Well I hadn't expected for things to come together so quickly.
The opportunity caught me off guard but, coincidentally, I wasn't too far from Jenn's house right now and figured I could surreptitiously fit in a massage over my lunch hour. That would be perfect.
"If I could be there in about 10 minutes," I asked Jenn, "would that be too soon?"
"Not at all," Jenn said, sounding welcoming, "I'll start heating up my oils."
"Okay, see you in ten!" I said.
When I arrived at Jenn's place, the front door was open. Still, I rang the bell.
"Lee?" I heard Jenn call from somewhere inside her house.
"It's me, Jenn," I said, stepping into the house and closing the door behind me.
Jenn came from around a corner into her living room and greeted me, wearing only a short, oil-stained white cotton robe. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her bare legs looked sensational.
"Whoa," I said, genuinely surprised, "did I get you out of a shower?"
I hadn't expected to see Jenn dressed like that and I felt my cock stir as soon as I looked at her. I tried to get my thoughts under control.
"Nooo," Jenn answered as she walked up to me, stood up on her toes and planted a smooch on my cheek—which, frankly, was her typical way of greeting me, even when Beth was around. "This is what I work in."
I wrapped an arm around Jenn to give her a hug—which was my typical greeting to her—but Jenn stopped me quickly. "You might not want to do that," she warned, "you'll get oil on your clothes."
"Oh, you're right," I said, pulling my arms back and returning only a friendly kiss to her cheek.
Jenn smiled as she received my smooch.
"You look good," I told Jenn.
"In this???" Jenn asked incredulously, laughing a little.
She stepped back and, tugging at the bottom of her robe, twirled around and briefly modeled it for me. "This robe isn't even a year old and look at it...I'm a walking oil stain."
I smirked. Jenn was right—her robe was covered in oil spots...but she looked sexy in it. I couldn't help noticing red panties just barely visible beneath her oil-stained white robe...and from the jiggles, I knew Jenn couldn't have been wearing a bra.
Walking oil stain or not, I liked the uniform.
"Come on in," Jenn said, turning and walking us further into her house. "How much time do you have?"
"I figured this will be my lunch hour," I replied.
Jenn glanced back at me, looking a little concerned, as we walked.
"Just an hour?" she asked.
"Isn't that enough time?" I questioned in return.
"It's enough time for the massage," Jenn explained, "but you might fall asleep afterward."
"Well," I shrugged, "if I do, don't let me sleep too long."
Jenn nodded and led me into a back room on the first floor of her house where I saw her set-up: a massage table in the middle of the floor; oils in small, glass bottles on some kind of compact heating device, set on a table in one corner; an open cabinet revealing a stack of towels against the far wall; and a chair set in another corner opposite the doorway.
A few candles were burning here and there, filling the air with a scent of...was it pine?
The room was dim, illuminated mostly by the flickering candlelight. There was a window in the outside wall—a sheer white curtain covering it—letting in some natural light.
"Wow," I said, surprised by what I saw, "this is really something."
"Well," Jenn said, assessing the space, "it's enough to get me started."
"Are you getting any paying customers yet?" I asked, now just standing around as Jenn checked the temperature of the oils by rubbing a spot of it on the top of her hand.
"No, I'm not charging anyone right now," Jenn told me matter-of-factly, "I don't have my license yet and I still need more practice."
I nodded in response.
Jenn turned around, took a momentary glimpse at me and said, sounding amused, "You have to take off your clothes, you know."
Here we go, I thought.
"Everything?"
The question seemed to surprise Jenn and she thought about her answer for a moment. "I guess you can leave your underwear on if you'd feel more comfortable that way."
"Okay," I said and I walked over to the chair in the corner and started undressing.
Jenn stepped out of the room to give me some privacy, I suppose.
I regretted asking Jenn if I needed to take
everything
