Substitute Masseur

Note to reader:

I know that it sucks when you click on a story to read and the author tells you that you need to read something else first. I get it. I hate it, too.

But the fact is; sometimes it's necessary to know what has happened before.

Please read my story

"Dirty Pool"

before you read this one. While I'm sure you will like most of this story without going back, you won't fully understand the character's motivations and the impact will be greatly lessened.

https://www.literotica.com/s/dirty-pool-3

If you don't like

"Dirty Pool"

for some strange reason, feel free to ignore this one. But I have a feeling you'll be back....

I did it!

I've come up with a way to get her back for the "Dirty Pool" trick my lovely wife pulled on me several months ago.

It took a while and, recognizing the fact that she is a LOT smarter (not to mention - more devious) than me, it will take a bit of work to bring my plan to ultimate fruition.

For the last couple of years she has been getting regular (every month or so) sessions at a Massage Therapy place near where we live. She doesn't talk about it a lot but she has mentioned how her masseur, Carlos, has the amazing ability to relax her body and she always feels rejuvenated and ready to conquer the world after a massage.

She has one scheduled for next Friday.

I give the place a call, ask the receptionist for Carlos and she gets him on the phone.

"Hola?"

"Carlos? My name is Steven."

"Yes? How may I help you?" Carlos has a very heavy accent but his English is quite clear.

"My wife," I give him her name, "is one of your regular clients. I would like to do something, uh, special for her when she comes to see you on Friday."

"Oh, sí! She very nice lady. I massage her long time."

"Yes. She told me how much she enjoys her time with you."

"What you want to do? We have whole spa day - ladies like that. We have couple massage. Very nice..."

"That's not really what I have in mind. I think it will be better if we meet. Can I buy you a cup of coffee? I believe there's a Starby's just down the walk from your place."

"Sí. Good espresso. I have open three o'clock."

"Perfect. I'll meet you there."

A few hours later I'm sitting at a small table in a busy coffee shop wondering how in the world I'll know Carlos when he comes in. Turns out that's not going to be a problem.

In walks a very handsome Hispanic dude dressed in scrubs and he's obviously looking for someone. I give him a wave and he comes over and shakes my hand.

"Mr. Steven?" His hand is large and strong. He's just an inch shorter than my six-foot height but I can tell by the way he moves that he's in good shape. And I'm no judge of the attractiveness of other men but he is very good-looking. I can certainly see why my wife likes to have his hands on her.

"Thank you for meeting me, Carlos. Let me get you a coffee."

After we collect our drinks we sit down at a table in the corner.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Steven?" he asks, with a puzzled look on his face.

"Well, Carlos. I'm not asking you to do much. I'm asking you to let me do something."

"I no understand...."

I start from the beginning. "A few months ago, my wife pulled a trick on me and I want to get her back."

"A trick?"

"Yes. She made me think something was happening that wasn't really happening. I want to do the same thing to her."

Carlos puts down his espresso. "I no good at tricks, Mr. Steven."

I laugh, softly. "Me neither, Carlos. But this will be really simple for you. I will be the one doing all of the work. You'll be completely clear. I just need you to get me in."

"I still not understand..."

"Let me lay it out for you. You have a cell phone?"

"Of course."

"Excellent. You'll start the massage as you normally would and I'll call you on your cell phone. You'll pretend that it is an emergency and have to leave."

"What happen?"

"That doesn't matter. Just pretend you're talking to someone, maybe your mother? She needs your help and you have to leave."

"I never leave during massage."

"I know, Carlos. Just this once. Before you leave you will tell her that Ramón will continue her massage."

"Who is Ramón?"

"Me. I'll be Ramón. You'll let me in and I will finish the massage."

"Are you masseur? Why she come here for you to massage?"

"She won't know it's me. Do you have some kind of mask she can wear? I don't want her to be able to see me."

"Yes...." Carlos said, clearly struggling with this. "We have therapeutic mask to smooth skin around eyes. Ladies like it."

"Perfect. Make sure she's wearing one of those and can't see me come in."

"Why you want to give her massage instead of me?"

I give Carlos a big smile. "Because I'm going to do something that will surprise her. I'm going to touch her in a very, um, intimate way. She'll be shocked and angry at Ramón only to find out that it was me after all."

"Oh, no, Mr. Steven! We never touch clients that way!"

"I know, Carlos, and I appreciate that. But I am her husband and I can."

"I don't know..."

"There's an extra hundred dollars in it for you." I slide a bill across the table.

That gets his attention. "Can you 'splain again?"

I go through the plan once more and get his cell phone number. I tell him I will be there thirty minutes before she arrives so we can go over it again on Friday.

I step into the massage therapy office at the allotted time and am greeted by a lovely young lady. I tell her that I am here to see Carlos and she rings him up. After just a few seconds he opens the door and leads me to an office at the back of the place.

We go over the plan again and I let him know about the slight adjustments I made. He shows me to a small locker room where he hands me a set of scrubs. I change out of my clothes and wait for her to arrive.

After a few minutes, Carlos peaks in and tells me that she is here.

"Great! Go ahead and start her massage just like you normally would. Don't forget the mask! I'll call you in about ten minutes."

"Ok, Mr. Steven," he says, nervously. "I do my best."

"You'll do great."

While I'm waiting I notice there is a small washbasin with a mirror on one wall. There is some deodorant and a couple of small bottles of cologne on the back of the basin. It occurs to me that she is very familiar with the way I smell so I decide to change that. I use the deodorant under my arms and splash on a little cologne. I'm not really a cologne guy so I may have used too much. But I definitely don't smell like me anymore.

The ten minutes drags by slowly but I finally call his number.

The phone rings.

And rings.

And rings.

Oh crap! He's not going to answer his phone!

But then it occurs to me that he probably has oil all over his hands and will have to towel off first.

Sure enough, after about 8 rings, he picks up.

"Hello?"

"Carlos, it's me. Your mother. I need help. You must come quickly!"

"Mother?"

"Yes, Carlos! Pretend I am your mother and say that you will come help me!"

"I come help? Yes, yes. I come help!"

The line goes dead.

A couple of minutes later the locker room door opens and Carlos steps in with a sheepish look on his face.

"I do it, Mr. Steven."

"What did you tell her?"

"I tell her I have to go help my mother but Ramón come finish her massage."

"Excellent. She has the mask on, right?"

"Yes. Please, Mr. Steven. Please don't tell anyone we do this."

"It'll be OK, Carlos. I promise. She'll get a good laugh about it and be ready for you to finish her real massage after I'm done."

He leads me down the hall, and quietly opens the door to one of the private massage rooms. I step in and he closes the door gently behind me.

And there she is.

I stand still and take in the scene for a moment. The room is about twelve-foot square with cabinets and a counter along one side. Warm, incandescent lighting is set to a very low level. There are a couple of candles flickering on the counter producing a lavender and vanilla aroma. There is very soft, Spanish guitar music playing.

But it's what's in the middle of the room that captivates my attention.

She's lying on the massage table completely naked, just a fluffy white towel covering her rump. Her face is down in the cradle and her arms are at her side. Her dark, wavy hair is tied up at the top of her head and the black strap of the mask she's wearing is stretched tight across the back of her head. Her bare shoulders and back are glistening with massage oil.

Without lifting her head she says, "¿Tú eres Ramón?"

I suddenly detect a breakpoint in my plan. While she's not fluent in Spanish, she does speak and understand it quite well. My abilities in that regard are sorely lacking.

"Sí. Ramón," I answer in a husky voice, hoping I understood her question.

"¿Habla inglés?"

That I understand. "No, señora."

"No pasa nada. Continúe, por favor."

"Sí, señora." There's a squeeze bottle in a pocket hanging off the side of the table. I squirt some oil on my hands, rub them together and begin stroking her skin. I can feel her muscles relax as I kneed her shoulders and neck. I press my thumbs firmly on either side of her spine and slowly make my way down to the small of her back. I know how much she loves having her hips massaged so I spend a lot of time on the dimples of her lower back and allow my fingers to slide just a bit under the towel to the soft, smooth skin of her butt.

I press my thumbs down her tailbone and she moans softly. I slide down even lower, wondering how far I can go before she reacts, but apparently I'm not there yet because she reaches down and tugs the towel down several inches revealing nearly half of her naked ass. As my fingers begin to part her cheeks she moans in pleasure again and she lifts her hips a bit.

I really wasn't expecting to get this far but she's clearly enjoying my touch and my stiffening cock shows that I am enjoying it as well.

I massage her glutes for a while, pulling her ass cheeks apart a few times and sliding my thumbs almost down to her puckered hole. I shift the towel down until her entire ass is exposed and squirt a fresh supply of oil all over her firm backside. While she coos and purrs her hips rock slowly side to side, back and forth. She's losing herself in the sensual sensations my hands are producing.

"Qué bueno, Ramón," she whispers. "That's so good..."

She spreads her legs a bit to give me more access and my slippery digits glide across her sphincter. She shivers and shakes as I slide further down to the edge of her pussy.

Is she really letting a total stranger touch her this way? We are going to have a serious discussion about boundaries later.

I pull the towel back up over her butt and continue massaging her thighs. The way she's moving her hips and grinding into the mat; it's like she's begging me to touch her pussy, but I move down her legs and spend a lot of time massaging her feet and toes.

She lifts her head from the cradle and says, "¿Listo para que me dé vuelta, Ramón?"

I have no idea what that means so I answer, "Sí, señora."

She must have asked to turn over because that's what she does. She gets up on her elbow and slides her hips to the edge of the table. The towel falls to the floor as she lies down on her back, completely exposed.

She takes my breath away.

Even though her eyes are covered her beauty is overwhelming. Her lips are deep red, full and glossy. Her shapely breasts are creamy white and her perky nipples are brown and erect. Her smooth, flat abdomen draws my attention down to the delta of her legs and her freshly shaven pubic area. I can't stop staring at her.

"¿Ramón?" she says after several awkward seconds. "¿Sigues ahí?"

"Sí! Sí!", I answer, coming back to myself.

After replenishing the oil on my hands I massage her neck and shoulders again. Since there's no way I can avoid them, I massage her beautiful breasts. They are not large but they are firm and perfect. Her nipples slide through my slippery fingers like little rubber pebbles.

Her chest rises and falls as she breathes deep through her lips, which are slightly parted. Her tongue darts out and licks the corner of her mouth as she groans deep in her throat.

"Eso se siente tan bien, Ramón."

I have no idea what that means but she's clearly encouraging me to continue. Frankly, I'm more than a little alarmed that she's allowing me to touch her this way. I really didn't think this was that kind of place.

I continue down her abs and start to work on her hips and thighs again. She spreads her legs, giving me a clear view of her gorgeous, pink pussy. She's visibly aroused as her lips are engorged and she's very wet.

And then it hits me;

she knows it's me. There's no way she would let some dude named Ramón touch her like this, would she? Would she?

No. Of course not. She knows....

But what if...? No. She knows.

I shake the cobwebs from my head and try to focus.

Sure, she knows it's me. But I'm not going to give in. If she thinks she can turn this over on me she's quite mistaken. I can take it as far as I need to go.

I start to rub the inside of her right thigh, gripping it hard and digging my fingers into the muscle. As I kneed her leg I slide north until the side of my left hand is just brushes her wet petals. I walk over to the other side of the table, kneading the inside of her left leg from her knee to her crotch. This time my hand makes a little firmer contact with her pussy lips and she takes a deep breath, her chest rising, and expels it slowly. Her feet slide even further apart until her heels are hanging of the sides off the table.

I place a hand on either side of her warm slit and massage the skin and tendons there, stimulating her outer lips. Her moans of pleasure get louder and more urgent and her hips rock to the rhythm of my movements. My slippery fingers spread her open and begin to slide across her silky, soft inner lips and her moans turn to groans, deep in her throat.

"Oh, Ramón." Her voice is husky and breathy. Her hands slide up her body and she begins to rub and pinch her nipples. Her mouth is open and her tongue is caressing the corner of her luscious lips.

I place a hand flat on her pussy and start to rub, up and down, my fingers dragging across her wetness and my palm massaging her clitoris. With every pass I add a bit more pressure to my fingers until they slide deep between her labia folds. Her wetness increases and her body writhes in delicious agony.

As I softly pinch and tease her clit, rolling it between my finger and thumb, I press two fingers deep into her moist tunnel. Her undulation stops and she raises her hips, practically begging my exploring fingers to go deeper. I curl my digits deep inside and find her g-spot, softly stroking it with my fingertips. Her undulations begin again, a bit more frantic, and her deep breathing increases in frequency.

Her moans and groans are replaced by, "Oh.... Yes.... Qué bueno, Ramón. So good. Yes!"

Her hips start to buck with a sudden fury as I stroke her insides faster and harder. She rises up on her elbows and calls out, "Yes! Yes!" when her pussy clamps down hard on my fingers and her body stiffens. She starts to pant like a feral beast as an orgasm rolls through her quivering body, hard and deep, from inside to out.

When her pleasure spasms dissipate she flops back down and sucks in several deep breaths. I move my hands to either side of her overly sensitive regions and massage her hip muscles as she slowly relaxes, returning to a peaceful state.

Yeah. She definitely knows it's me. I'm almost sure of it.

Definitely ninety percent sure.

I stop to squirt more oil into my palm and she says, "¿Vas a follarme, Ramón?"

I tap into my vast knowledge of the Spanish language and reply, "¿Qué?"

"Are you going to fuck me? Carlos always gives me a good, hard fucking."

Time halts and the earth stops rotating, but the room spins on its own. My mouth is hanging open but I have forgotten how to breathe.

She lifts her head and rises up on her elbows. "Hello? Do you know 'fuck'?"

"Sí, señora," I croak.

I get a clear vision of my beautiful wife impaled on Carlos' huge, Latin cock. Her long, red fingernails rake his strong back as his swinging testicles slap her shiny, oiled-up ass. She writhes and growls with lustful ecstasy until he erupts, jetting quarts of hot, sticky cum deep into her quivering, orgasming womb and she cries out, completely lost in intense, sensual, primal pleasure.

The very thought is shocking, disturbing and... interesting.

"Ah, bien." She rolls back over, gets up on her hands and knees and scoots down to the end of the massage table until her feet are hanging off the edge. She spreads her feet and legs apart and drops her upper body down to the oily, padded table. Her stunningly sexy ass is raised up and hanging over the edge. Her smooth, white cheeks are spread wide and the petals of her lush, pink pussy are soaking wet and glistening in the candlelight.

I'm still standing stock-still, frozen in place. I can feel my heart beating hard in my chest and my cock, so I know I haven't died. But that could happen any time now.

I mentally slap myself.

Stop it! Get hold of yourself! She's tooling with you, man! She's just seeing how far you'll go with this little game of yours.

Yeah. That's it. Probably...

I'm at a complete loss. I have no words, English or Spanish.

"You want?" is all I can manage, sounding more like a caveman than a masseur.

"Oh, I want, Ramón," she growls, deep in her throat. "I want."

I step down to the end of the table and stand between her feet. I rub more oil on the smooth, taut skin of her perfect ass and run my thumbs up between her cheeks. She bounces up and down when I slide across her tight, little sphincter. I press one thumb a little harder on it.

"Mmmmmm...", she hums low.

I rub my other hand over her hot, slick pussy and then pull the drawstring on my pants. They drop to the floor and I pull my briefs down to my thighs. I take my rock-hard cock in my hand and rub the slimy tip up and down, between her folds.

"Yes....", she whispers. "Fuck me, Ramón."

I simultaneously press my thumb into her tight asshole and press my cock into her pussy. It slides in like a knife into warm butter. She whimpers softly as I drive deep, slow and strong, until my lower belly is pressed firmly against her ass. I keep my thumb embedded and slowly pull my cock out until just the tip is still inside. I drive it in again, just a touch harder, just a touch faster.

I get a deep grunt from her this time. "Ungh."

Once again, out and in. "Ungh." Then again. "Ungh."

Soon I am pounding into her like a jackhammer, the loud slapping of our oily skin and her grunts fill the quiet room. She gets up on her hands and knees, her titties swinging with each hard thrust.

Suddenly, almost magically, I lose myself to the moment. I am no longer a loving, pranking husband. I truly become Ramon, the substitute masseur, plowing the depths of a beautiful massage client. I am but a tool. My hands exist solely to serve the needs of her skin and muscles. My hard cock is but a device designed to provide her with deep, physical pleasure. I am here to fulfill her every desire, a willing and able servant.

I try to hold out as long as I can, but it's no use. I feel my testicles tighten and my cock spasms as the velvet walls of her pussy clamp down and I blast a huge load into her beautiful body. I try to hold the rhythm and power all the way through, but my knees grow weak and my head swims. I'm afraid I'll pass out.

As our frantic motions quell, she lowers her upper body to the mat and my softening dick plops out, along with a huge glob of slop. I massage her fine ass a bit as she stretches herself back up the table and flops down on her belly, her face in the cradle.