I actually had to argue hard to convince Sue not to call it The Happy Ending Massage Parlour. She gave me a cheeky little grin when she casually brought it up one evening after dinner, but the twinkle in her eye told me she was only half joking.
I mean, think about it: a massage parlour called The Happy Ending, owned by a Chinese-American woman? It would get plenty of attention, all right, but not all of it good. Anyway, she didn't need the controversy to stir up customers; within a year, business was so good that she was able to take on extra staff and bring home a tidy profit.
I was glad to see her succeed. The humdrum 9-to-5 of secretarial work didn't suit my wife at all. Now she was her own boss, making her own hours, which meant we got to spend more time together. She always stayed late on Fridays, though. Her employees thought it was to go over the books, but the truth was, she would wait for me to come over and offer me some private service.
Yeah, it's a cliché fantasy, but what can I say? It's one of the perks of being married to a masseuse. She enjoyed it, too; the naughtiness of fooling around in her place of business appealed to her kinky side. Anyway, working for the city all week left me pretty sore; even if we didn't have our fun, I'd still appreciate the free massage.
I pulled up a little after seven and rang her cell, then made my way to the back. She quickly opened the rear door and scooted me inside, looking around before quickly shutting the door. There was no real need for secrecy; everyone knew who we were and there's hardly anything weird about a husband visiting his wife at work. But I think, for Sue, it played into the illicitness of what we were doing, which naturally made it more exciting.
Once inside, she stood on tiptoes and pulled my head down to meet hers, kissing me gently.
"How's my big, strong man?" she asked.
"Pretty beat," I replied. "They riding us pretty hard to get that street work finished."
"Oh dear," she said, running her hands down my thick arms. "Well, if sir will follow me, we can work some of that stress out."
"Sounds good to me," I said as she guided me by the hand. We entered one of the small massage rooms and she pointed towards a screen in the corner.
"If sir would like to get undressed behind there, we can quickly begin," she said, her tone even and professional. I nodded and stepped behind the screen, quickly peeling off my clothes. Once naked, I walked out, hands on my hips. Sue gasped and turned away.
"Oh, sir!" she exclaimed. "There's a towel back there!"
"I'm sorry," I replied with a grin, "I must have missed it." This was all part of the game; it was a lot more fun to play around first. You know those stories of married couples who go to bars and pretend not to know each other, flirting and drinking before going to a hotel? This was pretty much the same thing - a safe way to live out fantasies we otherwise wouldn't experience.
I wrapped the towel around my waist and lay down at the table. Sue gave me a shy little grin; she revelled in the character of the shy Asian masseuse with dirty thoughts on her mind. But first, she was all business, and let me assure you, switching careers was one of the best decisions my wife ever made. Petite and sinewy, she was in perfect control. She worked her way down my arms and back, applying enough pressure to work the aches out of my muscles. Climbing up onto the table, she straddled my hips, and I murmured in satisfaction as she attentively went about her work. I relaxed almost immediately; I could have fallen asleep if she didn't keep me talking.
"You're in remarkably good shape, sir," she said as she worked her way down.
"Well, I've got a very physical job," I said.
"I think I'm feeling a little stiffness here," she muttered later, massaging the back of my thighs. I bit my lip and tried not to laugh; it's remarkable how quickly we could resort to cheap porno dialogue. I rolled onto my back and she started over, gently dripping oil on my chest and massaging it into my muscles. I watched Sue's face through heavy-lidded eyes. She bit her lip as she glanced down and saw the growing tent under the towel.
"Oh dear," she said quietly, affecting a Chinese accent. "Sir, you still seem quite stiff."
"I guess so," I replied.
"May I remove the towel?" she asked. I nodded my head and she gently folded it down. My erection sprang up, half-hard and getting harder. Sue wrapped her hand around my shaft and slowly stroked up and down, gently pulling my foreskin back to reveal my bulbous cockhead. I sighed and closed my eyes; like I said, my wife has incredible hands.
I felt Sue's warm breath on my ear as she whispered, "Sir, you want... happy ending?"
"Oh yes," I replied, unable to keep myself from smiling. I opened my eyes and pulled her face to mine, kissing her deeply. We moaned and sighed together as she continued to work my cock with her hand, squeezing gently. She broke free and kissed her way down my torso. Finally reaching my stiff erection, she kissed the head of my cock and ran the flat of her tongue across the glans and hole, causing me to groan with pleasure.
Sue didn't rush; there was no need to. She licked from my balls to the tip of my dick, up and down in a regular, steady motion, occasionally sliding her tongue around my cockhead. She knew exactly where to lick and stroke to give me incredible pleasure without putting me over the edge too quickly. She jerked me a little harder, my foreskin sliding back and forth over my head, and gently suckled on one of my balls. With her body turned away from me, I could reach out and run my hand over her tight, firm ass. I moved my hand between her legs and gently pressed, eliciting a moan. But she moved away, looking up at me with a naughty grin.
"No sir, I'm here for your pleasure," she said, here eyes meeting mine as she wrapped her lips around my cockhead and gently sucked. I'm a thick six inches, and the girth can be a problem when it comes to oral, but plenty of experience taught Sue the correct approach. She focused her attention on the head, lashing her tongue around it, hollowing her cheeks as she sucked and slowly bobbing her head up and down. I could only close my eyes and bask in the warmth and moistness of her mouth, the confident rhythm of her hand stroking my shaft and the gentle massaging of my balls.
A slick finger delved lower, between my cheeks, and I moved my leg to give her better access.
"Oh fuck," I murmured as Sue gently pressed against my asshole and pushed her finger slowly inside. She groaned around my cockhead and eased her finger in and out. A second eventually joined it, stretching my hole and teasing my prostate.
The first time she fingered my ass, it was quite the surprise, though ultimately a pleasant one. Eventually, I was surprised (and a bit disappointed) when she didn't do it. Plenty of guys would cry foul at the idea, but if God didn't want us to enjoy a little ass play, why did he put the male G spot up there?
The sensory overload was becoming too much. Sue sucked harder, her lips moving faster up and down my thick cock. She pushed deeper into my ass, pressing firmly against my prostate, massaging it with the same skill that she massaged the rest of me. With her free hand, she squeezed and tugged on my heavy balls.
"Oh God," I groaned, running my fingers through her hair.
"Mmhmm...," she moaned around my dick, gently grazing my shaft with her teeth before sucking hard on my head. My balls tightened, as did my hand in her hair.
