I first met Mona while I was out of town working for a few days at my firm's other office in another state. Sitting by myself at the hotel bar she approached me, clad in jeans and a suede halter top, with a sexy little smile on her oh-so perfect lips. She slid onto the stool next to me and proceeded to order a long island iced tea. I was prepared to get stuck paying for her drink, but she had a twenty out and on the bar before the drink arrived or I had the chance to fish one out of my pocket.
Raising her glass to clink when it arrived, the conversation began, and at some point later on I found myself in bed with her, limbs entwined, my pelvis grinding against hers as I drove my cock deep into her tight hot pussy. When I awoke the next morning she was gone, but I saw her again the next time I was in town and that time she gave me her number. Whenever I was there I called and whenever I called she made time for me.
That was five years ago and at that point I'd been married for twenty seven years. My wife Pat and I had started out as deeply committed lovers, but as time went on, it never progressed beyond routine missionary style sex with a little cunnilingus and fellatio thrown in. Pat seemed perfectly content with sex as a roll in the sack every few months and didn't seem to comprehend the concept of "sexy" at all. For her, a T shirt and a pair of cotton panties was the closest we were going to get to anything sensual in attire. On a couple of occasions, I bought a sexy teddy and then a lacy camisole and thong ensemble for her, but both times I only ended up feeling sorry that I had, as they were definitely not appreciated and never worn more than once. I loved her dearly, but was definitely frustrated with regard to the pattern that had emerged with regard to our sex life. She, on the other hand seemed perfectly content and didn't want to discuss it.
Mona was quite the opposite. Early on she ascertained that I loved the sight of a woman in stockings and heels and usually answered the door in nothing but that. Our sessions were both physically satisifying and filled with conversation. Little by little I found out more and more about her.
I was very surprised to discover that although she was younger than I, she was not much so. Mona was certainly what one would consider "well preserved" for forty five. Standing about five-three in bare feet (rather than the heels she was rarely without), her frame was slender with a trim waist, long lean legs, and nicely shaped b-cup breasts. Her hair was dark and barely shoulder length and she was always very well "put together", as they say. The only thing that seemed to give her age away at all was a trace of crows-feet at the corners of her eyes.
She had been a professional masseuse, the kind that usually finished with "happy endings" (or more) and had developed quite a following. One of her clients had been a gentleman in his late seventies whom she had grown very fond of. At one point he gave her a diamond ring despite her protestations. He insisted, asking her to wear it for a couple weeks until he saw her again. Mona obliged him, but he died of a brain tumor a just a few days later.
When his will was disposed of, Mona had been named, as his "fiancé", as a primary beneficiary, to the tune of several million dollars. He had also left a sealed envelope addressed to her containing a letter in which he told her that this way she should never again be at risk of arrest for charging for her activities, but that he also hoped through her consumate skills she would continue to make men happier in their lives.
For Mona, this was a dream come true. She loved the physical closeness of men and thrived on the variety she had come accustomed to, but often wasn't really attracted to the men that contacted her. With her newfound financial independence, she could pick and choose and had become quite astute at picking out those who were not only attractive but, such as I, desperately in need of her ministrations and companionship.
Mona and I continued to see each other for a couple years until one day my boss told me that I would no longer be required to make the bi-monthly trek to the other office. My heart sank, thinking that I'd not see her again. The sinking feeling didn't last long however, as the next words out of his mouth were that I'd been promoted and that I would be running the other office.
Pat was surprisingly receptive to the news that we'd be up and moving to another state. She had never really felt like she'd fit in in the environs we'd adopted after college. We would be moving much closer to where she'd grown up and it would be easier for her to visit her aging parents. As it turned out, the move brought us closer together and our lovemaking improved ever so slightly. Pat even splurged and bought a conservative silk panty and camisole set from Italy to wear when the mood struck.
I continued to see Mona, but confided in her how things had changed and now I seemed to be even more frustrated. I wanted to enjoy Pat the way I did Mona and I also knew that I was merely one of many to Mona and always would be. Pat was the mother of my children and would be there for me forever, sex life or not.
Mona was genuinely concerned, not only for me, but for the woman she'd never met who seemed so removed from the sort of pleasure that was such an integral part of her life. Over the course of a couple weeks, she began to devise a plan and although I initially considered it insane, it began to sound less and less so as she and I discussed how it might be implemented and the details were developed.
The concept was simple, but the execution needed to be flawless for it to work and Mona seemed determined for it to be so. We would set up a massage session for Pat and then let Mona take it from there.
A friend of Mona's had recently closed a small accounting business and retired. There was a paid-up lease left for several months on a suite of offices that were in a quiet and classy neighborhood. Mona and I turned the offices into a ersatz massage parlor by substituting tables for the desks in the two small offices, pinning up the appropriate charts and altering the décor slightly to create a more sensual environment. The fluorescent lighting was removed throughout and substituted with table lamps, torchieres, and candles. Last but not least, a good sized one way mirror was installed in the larger of the two massage rooms which adjoined what had been a small windowless storage space just off the main lobby. We painted the walls in that room black and furnished it only with a couple stools.
It turned out that Mona was also skillful with a computer. She did up a beautiful gift certificate for me to present to Pat. Good for a month of weekly massages at "La Chateau", it was elegant and classy. Pat's birthday was soon to arrive, so this was when I decided would be the best time to present it to her.
I wasn't concerned that it might be taken the wrong way, as she had often gone for facials in our former home. This would be an extension of that sort of thing and I also knew that she, her mom, and her sister had all had massages once on a "girls day" at a spa and that she had thoroughly enjoyed herself. Her birthday came, the gift certificate was presented and she was gleefully appreciative of the gift. She called the phone number on the certificate (actually Mona's cel), made an appointment, and a few days later I found myself knocking on the door to "La Chateau" just a few minutes in advance of her.
Mona answered the door wearing a trim white dress that buttoned down the front and ended halfway down to her knees, the sort of thing a nurse or dental assistant would wear on a typical day at the office. White sneakers completed the outfit and her makeup was subdued. After an embrace and a kiss, I slipped away to the black room and soon after I heard Pat's arrival.
Following a brief introduction, Mona escorted her to massage room two. The door to room one had been closed with a sign hanging from a hook that read "occupied". Inside room two was a massage table with a fresh white sheet on it and neatly folded fluffy white towel. Before leaving the room for a few minutes, Mona instructed Pat to undress completely, then lie face down on the table. A glass of prosecco bubbled lazily on a stand next to the rest of the open bottle and soft sexy music was barely audible in the background.
Pat slipped off her shoes, jeans and top, then the simple black underwire bra she wore underneath, pausing occasionally for sips of prosecco She hesitated a moment before slipping off the black bikini briefs with pink appliqué that she had worn but eventually they joined the rest of her clothes on the row of hooks on the wall. The years have also been extremely kind to Pat – her body showed little evidence of her age, her breasts still firm, tummy taut and thighs and ass free of fat or cellulite. A triangle of wispy brown pubic hair did little to hide the slit of her pussy. I had always adored the way she looked naked even though I was rarely treated to it. To see her like this, free of the self consciousness that usually accompanied her nakedness and unaware of my presence on the other side of the one way mirror was a treat. Before lying down on the table as instructed, she finished much of the glass of prosecco. I knew she was a sucker for the bubbly beverage and had suggested that it be included in the experience. She then pulled the towel over her back, buttocks, and upper thighs.
After a bit, Mona entered, latching the door behind her. A little small talk ensued and the massage began with the towel being folded back and off Pat's back but left covering her ass and thighs. Warm oil was applied starting with her shoulders and Mona worked on her back, neck, and upper arms. I had been the lucky recipient of Mona's massage expertise on numerous occasions, so I knew just how divine an experience Pat was enjoying as her muscles were kneaded and stroked. Her hands and lower arms were attended to before Mona turned the towel up so that it only covered her cheeks, then focused her attention on Pat's calves and feet.
At that point, Mona asked if Pat was comfortable and whether it was too warm in the room for her. Pat answered that she was perfect and Mona then commented that she felt warm, - it must be a hot flash. She worked on Pat's feet for a minute before pausing to unbutton the dress, letting it fall open and exposing her breasts. After a little more footwork, she slipped the dress off entirely and hung it on an empty wall hook alongside Pat's clothes.
