It was only a few years ago that my wife, Annie, and I, still in our late 20s, became good friends with another couple, Sandy and Jim. Annie and Sandy started things, both having part-time, work-from-home jobs at the same company. They met at new employee orientation and immediately hit it off. Jim and I have our own full-time careers, in different fields.
Annie and Sandy were soon getting together for the occasional lunch, then that morphed into morning jogging workouts, followed by coffee at either their or our place, the whole arrangement working out very well. Sandy and Jim were a couple of years older, but we shared lots of similar background tales, and while Sandy and Annie were the close friends, Jim and I got along fine, so the foursome was quite compatible.
Naturally, that led to us swapping - dinner invitations, that is. Pretty soon, it was regular thing for us to spend at least one day or evening per weekend as a foursome, whether hiking in the nearby countryside, or cooking together, taking in the occasional night spot or concert, or having each other over for dinner. One night at our place after dinner, and after several adult beverages, Jim mentioned how much they'd loved a vacation the year before to the Caribbean at a couples resort - not the wild and crazy kind, but a well-known couples venue of its own. While they were there, on a whim they got a "couples massage" at the resort spa, and when they recounted it.
"Couples massage??" my somewhat naive Annie asked.
"That's right," her newfound friend (and something of the mother hen of the two) Sandy answered. I took the following explanation as an excuse to check out Sandy more closely. She, like Annie, was about 5'5", an ash-blonde with blue eyes to my Annie's brunette and brown. Otherwise the girls were pretty similar - medium build, what I guessed were healthy B-cup breasts, nice generous hips without being noticeably big.
Continuing, Sandy was clearly enjoying this, she added, "You and Ed should really try it sometime - I know you'd love it - especially you, Ed - or maybe especially both of you!" she chuckled, swapping knowing glances with Jim.
"How does that work?" Annie took the bait.
"Well, decided to do their spa thing, and when we got there for our appointment, the receptionist asked if we wanted separate or a 'couples massage.' We asked the same thing, and she told us that we would be massaged in the same room, and could select either male or female, or one each, masseuses, however you pronounce that."
"And what did you pick?" Annie was tuned in on all frequencies - I could see her eyes shining and I imagined that she was imagining exactly what, I hoped.
"We picked one of each. Then a woman dressed like a hospital orderly showed us into a private dressing room joined to a bathroom, gave us big fluffy bathrobes to wear, and explained that we should shower first, then enjoy a tub soak in the next room beyond, and ring an indicated bell when we were ready for the massage part. Before leaving, the orderly lady pointed out a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket with glasses (they were plastic, but nice) next to it, saying it was compliments of the management with congratulations on our anniversary! Nice touch!"
"Sounds very luxe," I offered, figuring I should add something to the discussion, but really just wanting to listen now, and imagine what Sandy might look like in that shower, and then in that robe, and then . . . .
Sandy continued, yanking me back to reality, "It was - the whole resort was that way, and we paid big bucks for it, but we figured it was an anniversary splurge, and I think it was worth it - how about you, hon'?"
"Absolutely!" Jim smiled.
"So there we were - we showered, although it was awkward because Mr. Horndog here wanted to mess around in the shower, and I had to fend him off with promises of future fun," Sandy smirked.
"Future mutual fun, right?" Jim countered.
"Oh, yes, the feeling was mu'tual, all right," Sandy grinned, then continued. "So we got all clean, then we went to the next room and there was this enormous spa tub, more of a spa pond, really - all surrounded by vegetation, sort of like being in a jungle pool or something - very romantic. The room was cool, but the water was sort of gently swirling, not bubbling like a hot tub or anything, and steam was rising from it."
"As in really, really hot!" Jim broke in. "It must have taken me five minutes to get all the way in, while Mrs. Unfazed here just slipped in and proceeded to laugh at my efforts to keep from being parboiled!"
Sandy laughed, remembering it well, and scoffed, "Some tough guy - anyway, we finally got in and soaked, just soaked - with our glasses of bubbly, of course, probably for a good ten minutes plus, before the heat of the water was starting to get to us. I think Jim was ready to get out before I was, but after my teasing, he was gutting it out, so I took pity."
"Pity?!" Jim whined in jest.
"It's ok, he got over it. So we scrambled out and Jim rang the bell while I was putting on my robe. Another door to the pool room opened, and there were our masseuses. One gorgeous blond woman, in her thirties maybe, her hair up, in shorts and a tank top that was obviously, very obviously, not encumbered by a bra, and hunk of a guy, also blond, younger than the rest of us, very clean cut and really buff, with similar shorts and tank top."
"No bra for him either, huh?" I joked.
"No, but it sure looked like no underwear either - not that I noticed, of course."
"Not that you noticed until at least a nanosecond had passed, that is," Jim chortled.
