I couldn't believe she had finally agreed to it. As she sat in the love seat under the window, chewing the corner of a nail and looking into the street, light slanted through the blinds giving a soft glow to the fluffy white spa robe she was wearing- nothing on underneath.
The fact that we'd gotten over the "nothing underneath" hurdle was blowing my mind. She'd agreed to be naked beneath whatever sheets or towels the masseur brought for her- her choice of course as to how much skin she'd show, but still, as she looked out the window, not a stitch of clothing on underneath her robe? It was making me hard just looking at her.
We'd been married for a handful of years by then and she had figured out that I liked the idea of her showing skin to other men. A guy can only ask his woman to go skimpier in public so many times before she figures it out. I was used to her saying no to the tight little skirts and shorts by now. And she'd always said an emphatic no every time I'd asked her to have sex with me outdoors, even if we were miles away from civilization. Just the possibility that someone might see her had been a deal breaker.
She'd always been reserved. She was a shy kid who had outgrown a stutter. A quiet type with loyal friends. She busted her ass to get where she was. Though she did her job well, and with confidence, she wasn't some overbearing A-type jackass always scheming to get her way. She was cool with hanging in the background as long as she was comfortable. Staying low-profile. Never rocking the boat.
That's probably what attracted me to her- I mean besides the fact that I'm a sucker for brunettes with a curvy ass and legs and... well everything else that comes along with that "girl next door" beauty- but what I mean is, she never nagged me about the stupid shit I did. She just let me make dumb mistakes and learn from them myself. She wasn't trying to "fix" me. Couple that with a tendency to keep it simple? It was easy to love her. She liked all the standards.
And that's how she'd kept it in the bedroom too, which admittedly had its drawbacks. I only got head on special occasions and while we had good sex that had been getting better and better as the years accumulated, it was slow progress for sure. And she still hadn't let me in the backdoor yet if you know what I'm saying. And trust me, I'd been trying for the two years we'd dated and the six years we'd been married.
So for her to be naked under that fluffy robe, waiting on a massage therapist? One whose reputation was for- and I quote: "top quality 'sensual' massages, catering to the desires of the client, from the mundane to the eccentric?"
Fucking amazing.
But like I said, she'd known for a long time that it turned me on to think about her being seen by other men, so even though she'd never indulged the fantasy for me, we'd had some years of subtle, growing insinuation and innuendo about it that grew to be almost humorous and comfortable between us- call it teasing.
So maybe this was just the natural progression of things? That she'd finally relented and agreed to let me set up this "particular" type of massage for her at the house?
Conditionally mind you.
Those conditions?
1: I was not allowed to be there. She would tell me about it afterward. Me being there just made her feel weird she said.
2: I had to promise that if she did allow more skin to show during the massage- I believe she phrased it, "If I do let him see my boobies"- that I really was giving her a free pass for this particular experience, and would not make her feel guilty if she actually felt like revealing herself in the moment. She doubted it would happen, but she indulged me nonetheless.
And 3: that all she had to do was say her password to the masseur at any time and the massage would progress no further.
I agreed to all of them immediately, passed the info on to the therapist, and here we were. I had even purchased the two-for-one, so afterward, if she liked it, we could do it again. She said it was only going to be this once, but I told her she might change her mind. Fingers crossed.
I took one last look at her in her fluffy robe and stood up, grabbing my keys off the entry table and asked, "Want me to bring anything home?"
She looked at me, a little flushed, her pale skin rosy at her cheeks and gave me a small shake of the head. "I can't believe I let you talk me into this."
"What? It's all up to you. If you only want a regular massage, then all you get is a regular massage. If you want to show him a little more, it's all good! And all you have to do is say your password if you ever want to."
She rolled her eyes but smiled.
