---------------------------------------------
Hi all! This is my first stab at a longer story. I hope you enjoy it; it may take some time to get to the action but I think you will like it when you get there.
---------------------------------------------
I was really worried about it. My wife and I had never been apart for more than a few days and, each time that happened, it had been really difficult. Not just the lack of sex -- something about being apart made my sex drive go up exponentially -- but also the lack of warmth, affection and companionship.
Thank God for SKYPE is all I can say and, by SKYPE, I mean video calling.
When I arrived in London my wife was at home in New York, four hours behind me. I stumbled up to my room -- my business class upgrade didn't go through so I was shattered -- and before doing anything else, I opened my computer and accessed the hotel's internet. While waiting for the connection to take hold I rushed off to the bathroom to empty my long full bladder and, by the time I came back, the familiar SKYPE ringtone was already sounding off. I clicked to answer.
"Hey!" I said even before the camera came to life.
"Hey back!" my wife said, obviously excited to hear my voice. "Where is your vid.... oh, there you are," she smiled that smile that could melt the polar caps all by itself.
"Just checked in and wish you were here," I said, very truthfully.
"Me too," she said, a bit sad, "Next time."
I told her about my flight, the nice Uber driver I met at the airport and then I suddenly realized that it must be ridiculously early for her.
"What are you doing up so early?"
"I dunno," she said, "I woke up and realized that you had just landed so I thought I would check SKYPE for you."
"I am really glad you did."
"Has it started yet?" she asked, with a naughty smile.
"No, thankfully."
She was asking about something we call AFHHS; Away From Home Horniness Syndrome. For some reason, my sex drive would go into overdrive whenever I was away from home. It was as if the absence of sex kicked my testosterone production into high gear. She used to worry about it because she thought it might push me into an affair. Perhaps, I have to admit, if I drank, that might happen. But, since I don't, it won't.
We caught up, said our I-love-you's and signed off SKYPE. I had to prepare for my first meeting and she really needed to get back to sleep. I was just about to close up my laptop when I heard that SKYPE sound; a new text message. It was my wife; she had just sent me that little icon with the smiley face, tongue sticking out. We both knew what she meant by that and I felt a little tingle in my balls.
And then another message popped up, for good measure:
"I can't wait to make you explode in my mouth within minutes of you getting home next week."
The tingle in my balls became a powerful shock and, suddenly, I was as hard as a rock. I sent back the blushing smiley and told her to go to sleep.
* * *
It was a long day. Why, on earth, they always schedule so many meetings on my first day I will never understand. But, I was glad they were over and we did get some excellent work done.
In the morning I had the foresight to book myself a massage at the hotel spa and, now, I was grateful. In fact, that was the only thing that got me through the last meeting with Mr. Davies Hamilton. What a prick. The key, with a guy like that, is to stroke his ego and give him exactly what he is asking for because, frankly, he is an idiot. Had he been nicer, and kept his mouth shut, I would have given him a much better deal. Oh well, more bonus for me.
I arrived at the spa with that odd slightly drunk feeling that jet-lag and a long day of meetings can create. I walked in and immediately felt better; the smell of the place alone, along with the soothing background music, was just what the doctor ordered.
The receptionist showed me to my little room and told me to undress and prepare for my treatment. Now, however, I was faced with that awkward question: How 'undressed' should I get. Some places give you those little paper panties; a clear message that naked is not an option.
Not this place. I prefer to be full nude; a massage is hardly a good massage if the therapist has to keep moving your underwear out of the way. And so I stripped down and climbed under the blanket on the table and, promptly, feel asleep.
I had fallen asleep during the massage before but never before it event started; even as I was drifting off I found myself wondering if I would simply wake up at the end.
And then the dreams started. Vivid jet-lag fueled dreams about my wife and what it would be like when I got home. My dreams were a strange mash-up of a few different home-cumming (that's what she calls them) experiences she had given me.
My bags came straight off the belt -- thank you priority tags! -- and I rushed out through customs to meet my wife. Massive hug. Tits pressed up against my chest. Gorgeous kiss. Her perfume filling my senses. Her hips pushed forward into my hard cock. She led me out of the airport by the hand (somehow my bags were now gone from the dream) and out to the car. She had brought the Pathfinder. With the remote she popped the back hatch and pushed me in; she crawled in behind me and took off her coat. My heart jumped in my chest; she was naked under her coat and had come into the airport like that. I love my wife. Without saying a word, she pulled my belt out, unzipped me and furiously sucked my cock; I was about to explode when the door opened and closed. The door to the therapy room. I woke up.
I was immediately thankful that I was on my front because I had a very hard cock and it was trapped beneath me. My face was flushed but also hidden.
"Hello Mr. Keyes, are you ready for your treatment?"
I tried to speak, but it took a second for the sound to come out, "Yes, thanks." If only I could get rid of this hard-on, I thought.
"You sound tired, did you travel far to get here today?"
"Arrived from New York this morning and had meetings all day," I said.
"Ah. Well, let's take care of you and get you ready for a good night's sleep. My name is Nancy, and I will be taking care of you."
I was too tired to lift my head but felt it was wrong not to look up and meet her greeting; I did. I looked up and before I could say hello, I was struck dumb. Nancy was gorgeous. I don't mean typically gorgeous, I mean that wars could be fought over this woman. She could easily be ancient royalty; she was regal, stunning, refined and, well, fucking hot. Even through her very professional lab-coat-uniform, I could see that, as well as a stunning face and long cascading shiny black hair, she also had a phenomenal body. And then I realized that I was staring.
"Hi, Nancy, it's nice to meet you," I said, trying to sound composed and hoping that any lack of composure would be credited to my jetlag and long day.
In the meantime, I started praying: Please hard cock, please go down.
He touch was incredible; intuitive and amazing. She knew when to press in and when to soften her touch. I was in heaven, but I kept getting snapped back to reality: in a while, she would ask me to turn over onto my back and then the large cock that I am normally quite proud of would be my downfall.
She worked her way down to my feet and performed actual magic. I am not sure what she was doing down there, but it felt amazing; I was getting younger by the moment and I could feel the stress easing all over my body. And then it happened, my cock softened and I could finally relax into the massage.
I drifted in and out of consciousness as the massage continued and was in total bliss; suddenly wishing I had booked 90 minutes instead of an hour. Nancy then asked me to turn over and, thankfully, I could. We played the turn-over-under-the-towel game and soon I was lying on my back.
Nancy turned her attention to my neck, scalp and face. He expertly sought out various spots of tension and worked them out. My eyes fell open for a moment and I looked up at her; a backlit angel looked down at me and smiled. I closed my eyes again.
I drifted off and found myself arriving at the airport again; being greeted by my wife. No jacket this time and fully clothed. Warm hug. Soft kiss. And then she held out her hand and asked me to hold something for her; her panties. She winked, and we headed out to the car.
The car was parked in a dark distant corner of the parking area and, when we got there, my wife walked up to the car, and assumed the 'arrested' position with her feet wide apart and her hands on the sides of the car. She lifted her ass, slightly, and said, "Fuck me now." She reached back with one hand, lifted her skirt and showed me her bare ass; I could see the wetness between her legs.
I woke up, with a start.
"Someone was sleeping," Nancy said.
"Yeah, sorry about that."
"No problem; you are here to relax."
I kept my eyes pressed close wanting to deny what I already knew; I was diamond hard and pushing my blanket up like a tent. I was so embarrassed.
"And, it seems, someone may have been dreaming," She said. I could tell by her voice that she was grinning. The elephant was out of the bag.
"I am so sorry about that," I said, mortified.
"No need. It's perfectly natural," she said, rubbing my chest. "What were you dreaming about?"
"My wife," I said, simultaneously grateful and annoyed at my answer.
"Oh, that is so cute," she said, "Then I guess I can't help you out with that."
"What?"
"Nothing, I am just being naughty," she said, her hands moving down my left arm and massaging my hand. "For the last year, I have been doing this job I have been asked for so many 'happy endings' that it blows me away. I have never given one, but I was tempted this time. But I guess it is probably not a good idea."
"No, I guess not," I said, hating myself and the world.
