My name is Terri. My husband Matt and I have been married for 12 years. We are lucky enough to have two wonderful kids and satisfying, if demanding, jobs.
A few months ago, Matt was invited to give a presentation at a professional conference in Palm Springs, California. He works as a software developer, so the opportunity to speak to an audience of experts in his field was a big opportunity for him and we felt that it could be a real boost for his career.
He asked me to go with him on the trip. With both our jobs and family commitments, we haven't had a real vacation in five years -- not the two of us together alone, anyway. The conference was to be on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, and we planned to stay Thursday and Friday to sightsee and relax and then fly home on Saturday. Even though he would be busy at the conference and with preparing his presentation, he said, there would be plenty for me to do while he was busy, and then we'd have Wednesday night and all day Thursday and Friday to ourselves. The kids could stay with my sister.
It sounded ideal. We flew to Los Angeles on Sunday and then drove to Palm Springs. As we left the city, I was enchanted by the desert and the mountains. The highest mountains were white with snow, while it was warm and sunny in the valley.
We checked into an elegant resort hotel on a hillside overlooking Palm Springs. There were lots of activities: I spent the first day horseback riding and the second shopping. Tuesday night Matt mentioned that there was a spa at the resort and suggested I sign up for a massage. I decided to do so.
Late Wednesday morning I arrived at the spa for my appointment. I waited briefly in the waiting room and then looked up as I heard my name called. The receptionist introduced me to Hank, the masseur.
As Hank led me to the massage room I couldn't help but noticing that he was a "hunk". Tall, muscular but not too much, and not an ounce of fat on his body. He was probably in his early 20's but carried himself with an assurance that made him seem older. His skin was lightly bronzed and his hair was crew cut blonde. He wore loose sweat pants and a cutoff T-shirt that did little to conceal his strong arm muscles.
Not that I was paying much attention. I'm not one to look at men other than my husband. I have been faithful to Matt since we began dating, and I'm sure he has been faithful to me. We have built a strong marriage on mutual trust, care and love, and I would be the last person to jeopardize this. Still, watching Hank walking in front of me, something within me stirred slightly.
Hank said he would leave the room while I undressed for my massage. I asked him what it was customary to wear. He said that most clients either wore bathing suits or bras and panties. "A few", he said, "prefer to go topless, because that gives me access to their entire back, but it's really up to you and depends on what you feel comfortable with." After that he left the room.
Since I had not brought a bathing suit, I stripped down to my bra and panties. I should describe myself. As I said, I'm 35 years old. I had a great body at 22 when I met Matt, but I've put on a few pounds. I'm still proud of my body, especially my large, high breasts, and Matt has never had any complaints.
Our sex life together has always been good. We don't make love as much these days as we used to when we were first married, but it's hard with children and careers to find the energy. But when we do have sex, it's usually wonderful, although not as intense as when we were first together and discovering each other and what we liked. But we know each other well (or so I thought) and are very good at giving each other pleasure.
Hank returned to the room. He had me lie face down on the table. He began rubbing oil into my back and then massaging it. We talked a little. I discovered that this was a part time job for him. He was a student at the local community college majoring in Computer Science. I told him he should meet my husband and that they would have lots to discuss.
After a while Hank suggested that it would be easier and less messy if I removed my bra strap. I agreed and reached around to do it. He said "relax. I'll do it," and undid it himself, letting the bra straps lie on the table. The massage continued. It was wonderful lying there with the sensuous pressure of his hands on my back. One or two times I might even have dozed off -- I was that relaxed.
Later Hank suggested that I roll over and he would massage my front. I carefully rolled over holding my loose bra on with my hands as I did so. I was now lying on my back with my bra loosely over my breasts. Hank began massaging my shoulders and sides, working around my bra. It continued to feel so good.
After a few minutes Hank said: "Some women like me to massage their breasts. I won't do it unless you feel comfortable with it. Remember, I'm a professional, and it's just a massage." Not having had many massages, I was somewhat surprised. I thought for a moment that I probably shouldn't, but everything else he had done was so pleasurable, I thought I should allow him to continue.
"OK" I said. His hands continued the massage, working down from my shoulders along my sides and up, rubbing and caressing the sides of my breasts. Then he went back to the shoulders and down my front until he was massaging just the tops of my breasts. He still had not gone beyond the bra, which was still lying, loosely on my breasts. He continued in that manner for a while, first the sides, then the tops. Finally, he moved his hands over the bra and began softly massaging my breasts all over. I began to moan with pleasure.
Something was happening. I was beginning to experience a sexual arousal that I had not had for a man other than my husband since I met him. I could feel my vagina becoming lubricated and wet and my nipples were hardening under his touch. I don't know what got into me, but I reached up and slowly pulled my bra off. Now I was lying topless and Hank, this stranger, was massaging my bare breasts. He ran his fingers around the aureole and across the top of the nipple, first of one breast then the other. Oh God, I thought. This feels so good.
Then he leaned over the table and took my left nipple into his mouth. I began to squirm on the table. I spread my legs, I'm sure my wetness down there was visible.
I pulled his head up and kissed him roughly on the lips. His hands kept working on my breasts. His tongue went into my mouth. I reached out and grabbed his waist and began to pull him toward me. I then ran my hand down the front of his sweat pants. I could feel his erection through the pants.
Suddenly, I realized what I was doing. I was about to make love to this stranger. What about Matt? I couldn't be doing this.
I pulled my head away. "I'm sorry," I said. "This is wonderful, but I can't continue. I'm a married woman."
"I understand," he said. "Anyway, our hour is almost up."
I put my bra back on and got dressed. We talked a little more. The tension was very thick in that room. A part of me felt embarrassed and wanted to leave. A part of me was attracted to Hank and wanted to stay. Finally I said "Hank, I really enjoyed the massage. I'm sorry that I let things get a little out of hand. Is it possible that we could do another massage tomorrow -- just a massage?"
He grinned. "Sure," he said. "The only problem is that I'm not scheduled to work for the next two days." My heart dropped. I found myself really wanting to see him again. "I could come to your room tomorrow night," he said, "if that's OK with you and your husband. After all it's just a massage."
So we agreed that he would come to my room at 7:30 Thursday night.
That afternoon my moods went from one extreme to the other. Sometimes I would think of Hank, of his taut young body and how I had felt kissing him and being caressed by him. Sometimes I would feel completely guilty. I'm a good wife and mother, I thought, I shouldn't be having these feelings. Worst I felt guilty about how close I had come to being unfaithful -- to hurting Matt. He trusts me and loves me so much, I thought, and this is how I repay him.
At six Matt returned from the conference. His presentation had gone extremely well and he had spent several hours talking with people who had heard it. He was becoming known in his field and I was happy for him. But still I felt such guilt.
We went out to dinner to celebrate. I had a couple of drinks, something I rarely do when we're at home. At one point Matt said to me: "You look a little distant and distracted tonight, Terri. Is everything all right?"
At this point, all the guilt I had been feeling just overwhelmed me and I said "Oh, Matt, I feel so terrible. I almost did an awful thing today."
"What did you almost do?" he asked.
