The Beach Massage Cabana

Read more about my wife Nicole in my other stories. There's less character background in this one but she's as adventurous, shapely, confident, and sensually erotic in real-life as you might imagine. This recollection is more of a vignette from a vacation in Martinique.

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Nicole moans softly. I can hear her above the lapping of the waves.

Remy and David are doing a good job.

My wife is laying face down on the massage table; if she has her eyes open she's looking at the worn beachcomber wood of the hut floor and some of the white crystals of sand that have drifted in. Nicole's bikini top has already been removed but no alternative covering is needed; a warm breeze wafts under the thatched palm roof that protects us from the afternoon sun, the raw cotton drapes ripple with the movement of the air.

The two men might be mistaken for brothers. Same height, around 5' 11", and build, I guess 180lbs, both muscular, ruggedly good looking with the same short black hair. Their crisp white T-shirts and shorts contrast with the dark African heritage of their skin. Once more, they glide their oiled hands in unison up either side of Nicole's spine and across her shoulders.

She sighs.

Mirroring each other, Remy massages gently down Nicole's left arm, David on her right. They massage her hands, between her fingers, her palms, the sensuous mound of muscle at the base of each thumb. A little more forcefully they massage back up her arms, pushing the blood flow towards her heart. Gently back down, harder back up; they repeat the entire pattern of motion.

My cane chair creaks wheezily as I reach out for my afternoon martini. Water droplets coat the outside of the glass, running down to form two or three individual raindrops on my cotton shirt as I take a sip. It's strong, the dash of Chambord adds a sweet raspberry taste reminding me of Nicole.

I hear a woman's voice, one of the smattering of beach guests. "Looks like someone arranged a 4-hand massage. That looks like fun!"

Yet another sigh of pleasure from my wife turned my attention back towards her and the two masseurs. Remy and David had finished with her arms and had been busy kneading Nicole's neck and shoulders, something she loves. Every now and then they murmur something to each other in the local Creole, coordinating their actions perfectly. Eventually their hands flow down the side of Nicole's curves, in at her waist, out over her hips, and down her thighs, then calves, coming to rest at her feet.

My wife melts at a foot massage. Oiled hands roll across her soles, they lift her feet slightly and gently tug at each toe in turn, slipping in-between to massage each one. They follow the familiar pattern now, pushing more firmly up over Nicole's calves, rubbing the oil into her muscles, up the back of her thighs, down gently, up harder. They knead my wife's round hips, fingers skating the bikini briefs, but occasionally slipping under far enough to reach her glutes. They move on to the base of Nicole's spine and complete her back, massaging up towards her shoulders again.

David leans over and quietly asks Nicole in French if she's ready to turn over now. There's no hint of hesitation as my wife pushes up, flashes a smile at me, and rotates her body to lay down on her back as Remy slips a small pillow under her head to cover the hole in the table.

My wife's breasts are all natural, each an exquisite handful; they settle quickly as she lays down, adding to the playground of her womanly figure. I notice that her nipples are borderline hard and I imagine it's the breeze until I look around; there are four or five other pairs on the beach and a couple of single guests. Apart from the sunbathers most of them are looking our way, at least one guy has a surprised jaw-open look on his face, the woman with him bites her bottom lip. Nicole's body tells me that she either saw them directly or that she knows in any case that it's likely they are watching.

Remy stands behind Nicole's head massaging her temples, ears, jawline, neck; David at the opposite end is working on her feet, ankles and calves. My wife's breasts rise and fall slightly with each breath, her hard nipples now betraying a secret reaction to the attention of the two men or, perhaps, the onlookers. Maybe both.

As the massage continues, David works his way up Nicole's thighs and Remy works his way down her shoulders. Another whispered word of coordination and they move one to each side again. Hands glide across Nicole's upper chest, along the sides of her breasts, her ribs, then up across her belly; they reverse direction following the path upwards, fingers sliding under the crease of Nicole's breasts. She shudders almost imperceptibly but I see it and I know that Remy and David must have also. They repeat the pattern.

Nicole's arms are by her side and I see her fingers stretching surreptitiously so that they brush against the shorts of her masseurs. I smile to myself; her eyes are closed but my wife is testing them, testing herself, she wants to know if they are reacting to her body. A subtle smile passes across Nicole's face, she has her answer. In testing the guys my wife has also, unwittingly or deliberately, sent them a signal; on the next pass they both skim their hands in unspoken synchronicity across the top of her breasts. Nicole pushes the back of her hands outwards, the slightest of pressure against the apparent reactions she has discovered; Remy and David's massaging is almost turning into repetitive caressing. I see my wife swallow and lick her dry lips; subconsciously the action prompts me to do the same.

I look around. Despite not a word being spoken there is sometimes a realization that others are watching something out of curiosity or wonderment; at this point I note the entire dozen or so of our fellow guests are all silently staring at the sight of my topless wife and the two guys massaging her.

My chair creaks once more as I stand. Remy and David look at each other then me. I nod back at them to continue. I step towards the table. Hooking my fingers just inside the waistband at my wife's hips, I roll the bikini bottoms downward an inch. Nicole's lips part, no sound from her. Her eyes closed, she can feel the guys hands on her chest and torso so she knows it must be me. I roll the bikini another inch, Nicole swallows then gasps a short sharp intake of breath. Her eyelids flutter slightly in turmoil, she wants to open them, to see, to look, but keeping them closed provides her the anonymity to pretend we're alone, that this is a fantasy. But it isn't. And we have an audience.

In one long, smooth action I roll Nicole's bikini down over her hips; she lifts her thighs, knees, ankles, feet up off the table in a gentle wave as I slide them all the way off. My now naked wife trembles. Her legs are tightly pressed together. David on her right and Remy on her left are brushing their palms in long strokes across her body. I take Nicole's ankles and gently but firmly part her legs. Her mouth opens as if to speak, but still no words come out.

Nicole's shaven pussy glistens before me and it isn't from the oil coating the rest of her body. I hear gasps from one or two of the onlookers. I lean forward and extend my tongue to dip into the sweet nectar that mirrors the raspberry taste of my martini. Nicole now can't contain a groan as she arches her back, her knees lifting involuntarily. Remy and David reach out to each slip a hand under my wife's knees supporting her legs. This position opens her lips further for my tongue to enter her a little deeper, her wetness coats my lips and chin instantly. Nicole is biting her lip again, her eyes screwed tight, her head pushing hard into the pillow. I lick again; she shudders.

Desire has overtaken my wife. Somewhere along the way she has turned her hands and is gripping the obviously hard members of both David and Remy through the fabric of their shorts. Nicole gives a frustrated squeak and tugs hard on their waistbands. I lift my face from between her legs and double nod to each of the guys.

Remy and David swipe their t-shirts up over their heads and drop their shorts. Murmurs rippling through our fellow guests carry to us on the breeze. Nicole gives no indication whether she has heard them but her hands grasp around to find the slickly erect cocks on either side of her. A broad grin on my wife's face signals that she feels flattered, proud, impressed, by what she finds. Nicole starts to stroke Remy and David in unison with my fingers sliding in and out her pussy, my tongue on her clit.

My wife moans in mild disappointment as I stand and back away from her. I gesture with open palms and raised eyebrows to Remy and David; they look at me for greater confirmation. "Gentlemen, she's all yours..." Nicole takes a deep, gasping breath. From outside the cabana I hear an "Oh my God." and several more gasps; I look around and note that everyone is fixated on the show they rightly anticipate is about to take place.

As I return to my chair, a mutual meeting of thoughts passes between the two guys and Nicole as they help her shift down the table so her legs are over the end. Remy moves first. He stands between Nicole's knees, his serious set of abdominal muscles taper down to his shining phallus, rigidly stiff in admiration of my wife. David takes over caressing Nicole's breasts, her left hand gripping him as Remy slips one arm under each of her legs lifting and supporting them. Remy steps forward until his cock, so hard that he does not need to guide it with his hands, is gently pressing at Nicole's vulva.

In tiny increments Remy leans forward, his thick rod pushing between Nicole's wet lips, her pussy opening for him, drawing him in. She whimpers with pleasure. Just as slowly, he pulls back and pauses then inexorably forward again until he is buried deep inside her. A blissful croak escapes Nicole; her juices now coating Remi's raging erection he starts to pump slowly in and out of her, minute by minute gradually increasing his pace.

Nicole pulls David further towards her, turning her head to the left she opens her mouth and steers the second cock towards her tongue; she closes her lips around him. She sucks hard on David, bobbing her head slightly as Remy pummels in and out of her pussy. I smile knowingly, recognizing that this has long been one of my wife's fantasies.

My own cock throbs as I'm enthralled at the sight of Nicole receiving such pleasure, and at the magnificent contrast of the trim, dark skinned, young men equally enjoying the tanned pink curves of my wife. With effort I look up to see a number of our audience shifting in obvious arousal, some of the men clearly trying to comfortably position their own erections, several of the women pressing their legs tightly together in an effort to find some stimulation.

Remy's grunts draw my eyes back to to the sheen of sweat on his back as he's pistoning faster and faster into Nicole. David's cock has slipped from her mouth as she cries out, starting to shake, her chest flushing as the orgasm begins washing through her body, head back, mouth open; she squeezes David's cock hard with one hand, the other tearing at her own breast. Remy pumps hard and deep holding himself inside Nicole, seconds pass, his knees are shaking, his chin drops to his chest, he pulls halfway out then pumps fully forward holding himself inside her again, his muscles clenched, once more out, then in and hold. Nicole lets out a long shuddering groan in a rasping breath.

The entire beach is silent. Nobody has moved.

Stroking David's throbbing erection Nicole opens her eyes, blinking through the sunlight, to look up at him; she smiles as he pulls away toward the end of the table. The coordination between the two men looks well practiced as Remy steps back, his softening member slipping out of Nicole, and David takes his place holding Nicole's legs in the crook of his elbows, his erection slides easily into her. Remy uses a soft towel to gently rub down the flush of exertion on Nicole's chest, caressing and soothing, as David starts to pound in and out of her.

For Nicole the next circle is already underway; her eyes half close with euphoria, goosebumps communicate arousal despite the warm afternoon air, flushed cheeks glow, she bites into her own knuckle, head rolling from side to side. A long guttural crescendo groan emanates from my wife's throat over the sound of the wet slapping of David's hips against her inner thighs. Remy runs his palms over her nipples; Nicole clasps her hands over his, holding them tight, squeezing her breasts as an anchor against her shaking body. David slams in to her a final time with a suppressed roar, his body trembling, his head back, breath wheezing, gasping; Nicole cries out, her body convulsing in ecstasy once more, the rapture visibly rippling across her torso and her shaking legs.

The sound of the waves mingles with the swell of gasps and drawing of breath both inside the cabana and from the people on the beach, many of whom had found their way even closer for a better view.

Remy and David gently move Nicole back up to the center of the massage table, they place the pillow under her head and grab several more of the soft white towels to carefully wipe her body down and cover her as my wife catches her breath. I walk over and lean down to kiss her lips, Nicole's eyes flutter open, her pupils almost appear diluted from the rush she has experienced, her cheeks still rosy red, she smiles at me.

"I can't believe I did that." Nicole says. I kiss her again, our tongues seek each other out.

Through the haze we hear a growing crescendo of applause rising above the sound of the breakers, there's even some cheering. Nicole and I break our kiss, I look around at the others guests now all standing, clapping, a few waving. One of the women calls out "I want that tomorrow!" The man alongside her laughs, nodding his head in approval. Another woman yells "Me too!". A third echoes the same words. Another cheer goes up.

"You know it's the formal dinner tonight?" I ask Nicole as she sits up holding one of the giant towels across her chest. She blushes looking at the small crowd encircling the cabana.

"Well, I need a nap to recover first." She laughs. "And yes, I guess it's going to be interesting table talk with our fellow guests tonight."