The Man with Magic Hands

In my business, discretion is absolute. I had come to know many secrets about 'my ladies' as I called the numerous clients I was visiting each week for their 'relaxation massages'. And of course, most of them were married or in long term relationships so had every reason to keep our regular trysts quiet. But it was becoming clear that women confide in each other surprisingly often. Unlike men, who have a tendency to boast about sexual conquests (often with considerable embellishment), women seem to me to find a need to share their secrets with one or two trusted friends, perhaps to offload some of the guilt? I'm no psychologist so who knows for sure. But one thing was certain, word was spreading around the town about my special skills and services.

Recommendations are great for business, but not so good when you're basically fucking married women! I had niggling worries about what might happen if one or more husbands were to get wind of my wicked activities with their other halves. It wasn't long before I found out!

I met Heather Warrington in the most mundane of circumstances: queuing at a supermarket checkout. We'd accidently bumped trolleys and I quickly apologised for my clumsiness.

"No problem, love," she said, glancing into my trolley. She grinned and I realised that she must have spotted the large pack of condoms and bottles of lube. I'd also bought some wine that day.

"Looks like it's going to be a hell of a party," she grinned. I blushed and laughed guiltily.

"Er, yeh. Sort of," I blurted. "Kind of work related." With hindsight it was probably a dumb thing to say. She gazed at me enquiringly.

"Work related? I can't imagine..." she started but then paused, looking me up and down.

Dammit! This is fucking awkward, I thought. She must imagine I'm some kind of escort or something. Now technically that's true, but I wasn't leaving it at that. I leaned closer and whispered.

"Actually, I'm a massage therapist. The lube is for massage."

"And the johnnys?" she whispered back. "Ultra thin 24 pack?"

I blushed again, but couldn't think of anything remotely plausible to say.

She was grinning ear to ear, obviously enjoying my discomfort as we edged closer to the checkout.

"I'm Heather," she said, pausing for effect and leaning even closer. "I could do with some therapy like that."

Bingo! I thought. Naughty little minx. At least she wasn't going to start berating me for my disreputable career choice.

I gave her the once over and noticed she was wearing an ankle bracelet. It was monogrammed HW which I supposed were her initials. I also spotted her wedding ring and she must have noticed because she slid her hand under a large bag of pasta. I smiled at her knowingly and we moved forward in the queue in silence.

She had obviously been contemplating the situation because a few minutes later she turned back to me.

"I've been having some real problems with my neck. It's very knotted and sore. Any advice?"

It wasn't exactly a come-on, but it certainly seemed she was sounding me out. This might be fun, I thought. Let's try the 'magic hands trick'.

"Would you like me to have a feel?" I murmured. "Of your neck, I mean."

She grinned and giggled, turning away and pulling the arms of her woollen top down slightly to expose more of the neckline.

"Yes please," she said simply and waited. I moved up closer and put both hands on her shoulders, kneading her neck gently. At first she just purred slightly but then the magic kicked in and I could feel her beginning to melt. I could feel her body stiffen slightly and she arched her back.

"Oh," she purred. "That's very good!" My guess was that little sparks of sexual energy were making their way down to her loins. She squirmed a little as I squeezed her shoulders and I ran my fingers along her neckline. She gasped and turned suddenly, forcing my hands to drop. She stared at me, slightly flushed.

"I think I've heard about you," she said simply. "Do you know Vanessa Martin?"

I could have replied "Yes, I know Vanessa. In fact I had three fingers in her pussy yesterday morning!" but instead I just nodded.

We'd reach the front of the line, and she was unloading her shopping. My little shoulder rub had obviously given her some food for thought because nothing more was said until she was paying and preparing to leave. She turned to me and it sounded like she'd made some kind of decision.

"I don't suppose you have a card do you?" I simply grinned and plucked my business card out my pocket.

"Rick," I said matter-of-factly as I unloaded my condoms onto the conveyor. "Give me a call."

She called a couple of hours later and we booked a time the next afternoon at her place. I rolled up outside a fairly plain semi-detached cottage. She opened the door and ushered me in. I sensed that she looked a little uncomfortable. We walked through into the living room and I froze. A man stood in front of the fireplace, about my height but much older, fatter and with greying hair. He turned.

"Hello, Rick," he boomed. "So you're here to mess around with my wife are you?"

Fuck! I thought. Something must have gone horribly wrong. I trembled slightly as the adrenaline flooded my legs.

"No! I, um..." I stuttered, looking at Heather for help. I had no idea what she'd been forced to reveal.

"It's just a massage," I managed to blurt out. The man took a step closer, looking me up and down.

"You're not much of looker," he started. "But I suppose if you're good in the sack, That's what Heather wants. Well, here's the thing, mate. I like to watch."

There was a pregnant pause as I processed his last words.

"Is that Ok?" He finished.

My brain tumbled through a series of emotions. The fear disappeared, followed by confusion, revulsion and then a grudging realisation that the situation wasn't as bad as I thought. Heather took my arm and moved close.

"He won't be any trouble," She murmured. "He'll just sit in the corner."

I was still slightly dumbstruck and she must have sensed it.

"I thought you noticed my anklet yesterday," she said looking down at her feet. "HW? Hot Wife?"

Yes, yes, I know. Every swinger knows this. All I can say was that I must have had a very innocent upbringing! As it finally dawned on me what was happening I sighed in relief. We all laughed awkwardly.

A short while later, Heather was stretched out on the bed upstairs. Rob had introduced himself properly and was sitting quietly in the corner. It all felt a little odd, but I tried to put him out my mind and get on with the job in hand.

Heather melted as I stroked and kneaded her back and sides. She was obviously aroused, breathing deeply and sighing every few seconds. I worked on her arms and hands and then moved down to her legs which she parted slightly as I worked on her feet, calves and thighs.

"You can go a little further," she cooed. "That's OK isn't it, love?" She said to Rob.

I turned briefly and noticed that Rob had unzipped and had was gently tugging on his cock. It didn't seem to be erect and, quite frankly, I didn't want to see it, so I turned back quickly.

"Yea. Go on Rick. Finger her pussy," he grunted. Once again, it was weird, but what the hell I thought. I've always been good at following instructions!

I worked my hands into Heather's buttocks and slid one between her cheeks, seeking out her vulva. She moaned loudly as my fingers stroked her labia. She was very wet, so my fingers slipped easily into the folds of her pussy and I began stroking her clit.

She was still face down, moaning, with my hand pushing into her crotch.

"What about her tits?" said Rob from the corner.

Heather rolled over and I stood behind her head and put my hands on her voluminous boobs. She moaned again and her head dropped back over the end of the bed. She reached for my crotch, fumbling with the zip and fishing out my engorged penis.

"Decent cock, mate," said Rob, which was kind of nice. First time I'd received a compliment like that from a bloke!

"Face fuck the bitch," he continued. The weirdness of being directed by a woman's husband was starting to recede. Heather guided my pole into between her lips, leaning further back so she could get the shaft into her mouth. She started sucking, cupping my balls with one hand and holding my thigh with the other. She was actually pulling me into her throat. I continued to massage her tits and I steadily pumped her mouth.

"Don't forget her cunt," said Rob.

I leaned forward and reached for her pussy, cupping her vulva with the palm and slipped two fingers into her vagina. She shuddered underneath me.

"That's it," said Rob. "Give it to her hard. Down the hatch eh?" To be honest, the commentary from across the room was becoming a tad annoying, but Heather seemed to be enjoying herself so I upped the pace and started pumping. My cock slid in and out of her sloppy mouth and I fingered her pussy in time with each thrust into the back of her throat. She shuddered as she came, and moaned loudly. Her moans were cut short as I thrust into her mouth and blasted my cum into her throat. With each pulse I could feel her gagging slightly. I pulled out and shot a spurt of jizz across her face and throat. She took a lungful of air then squealed in delight.

"Fucking hell!" said Rob and I saw a dribble of cum in his hand, still wrapped around his limp dick.