The Wors

Andrea and Mitch were enjoying their first real vacation since their honeymoon. It was late afternoon when they began to walk back from the beach, hand in hand. Mitch had a knapsack slung over one bare, sunburnt shoulder. He would blame married life and his desk-job for his complexion and physique before taking personal responsibility. He wasn't terribly out of shape, just a little thicker and a loss of the definition he'd had in college. He knew it would only get worse as they got older, but he wasn't too concerned at the moment. "At least I've still got my hair!" He would say to himself. His father had gone bald early, and many of his friends' hair was thinning already. Having a head of thick, curly black hair made him feel younger than he was. Or at least younger than his peers, which was enough for him.

Andrea walked gracefully, barefoot, beside him in her modest bikini and sarong. She preferred to dress for comfort, and lacked the self-confidence to wear anything more revealing. Despite this, Mitch had managed to convince her to sunbathe topless in the relative privacy of the windscreen that curved around behind their beach chairs. Even though there was no chance anyone saw them - the beach was all but deserted - she blushed at the thought of it. At the same time, she felt a rush of excitement. Her pulse quickened and a shiver rippled through her body, leaving her momentarily lightheaded.

"You okay?" Mitch asked, noticing a change in her step.

Andrea smiled in return. Mitch loved that smile; so bright and full. He never understood why she was so self-conscious. He, along with pretty much everyone else they met, thought she was beautiful. Especially on the rare occasions when she got dressed up. Though even without any outside assistance, there was only so much she could do to disguise her firm, full breasts and hips. She epitomized the hourglass figure. Topped with golden-blonde hair that shone like fire in the sun, it was hard not to notice her.

"I'm great." she replied after a brief pause. "Except maybe a little sad to be leaving tomorrow."

He nodded. "Hey, do you want to check out the resort shops on the way back to the room? That's one place we haven't explored yet."

She smiled again. "Sure, why not!"

***

As the couple strolled through the handful of shops, looking through the trinkets and souvenirs, the shopkeepers would offer them tea and conversation. At first, they were a bit unsure and reserved, but they soon warmed up to the custom and readily accepted the offers as they went.

A group of young men greeted them as they left a shop full of artwork. They stood casually in front of the shop across the street brandishing cigarettes and smiles. After exchanging the typical small talk, a handsome, athletic man wearing a thin cotton shirt and loose linen pants took a step closer. "Beautiful lady," he reached an arm around her waist and gestured toward the shop, "How would you like a manicure or pedicure?" He noticed Mitch's gaze, and responded with what must have been an often repeated script. "Men are welcome too! It's okay!" He firmly slapped a friendly hand on Mitch's shoulder and winked as he spoke.

Mitch and Andrea both chuckled a bit. Though she had jumped a bit at the man's touch and wanted to shy away from his forwardness, she awkwardly stood her ground. "Nah, I'm good." Mitch replied with dismissive wave and snort. "You should go, though." He added to Andrea, almost an afterthought.

Her husband's suggestion caught her off guard, and she gave him a confused glance. "No, it's alright." she replied, hoping he would take the hint and that the man would release her from his grip. She had become aware that the man's hand was high on her waist, which put his fingers uncomfortably close to her breast. Yet, she didn't want to seem rude and pull away.

"Oh, come on." Mitch urged her gently. "It's our last day, and you deserve all the pampering you can get before we leave."

"Yes!" The young man from the salon injected himself back into the conversation. "Your husband is a wise and caring man! Let us do all the work while you sit back and relax. Since it is your last day, we will give you The Works!"

Andrea arched an eyebrow and gave Mitch a knowing look and slight head tilt before turning back to the man. "Oh yeah? How much?" She asked, preparing for the customary haggling.

"For you, beautiful lady, thirty euro. We will give you: manicure, pedicure, massage, and facial." He emphatically counted out each service on his fingers as he listed them.

Andrea arched her brows. It actually sounded like a decent deal. "Hmmm..." Mitch pondered aloud. "Thirty's a little steep. How about twenty?"

The man smiled in return. "Twenty-five. And for you, my friend, we will close the store and your wife will have our undivided attention. No interruptions; just relaxing peace and quiet while a handful of men cater to her every desire. She will be treated like the princess she is." After this last, she noticed the man's eyes quickly slide up and down her body. Mitch hadn't noticed, though. "For five more euros, I will have champagne and fresh fruit brought to her."

Mitch smiled and shook the man's hand. "Deal!" As he dug out his wallet, he looked to Andrea, who stared at him somewhat disbelieving. "Have a nice time, honey! I'll swing back around in an hour or so." He paid the man, gave her a peck on the cheek, and then wandered away before she could figure out what to say.

"Right this way." The man led her inside with a gentle touch to her lower back. The air in the salon was heavy with incense. It was dimly lit with richly colored tapestries and fabrics covering the walls and floor. A quiet, relaxing melody snaked its way through the room from some unseen speaker system.

"I am Asim." The man they had spoken to introduced himself as he handed her a thick, white cotton robe. "You may change over here." He gestured to a partition in the corner. "When you are ready, please come."

He left her standing, holding the robe, and returned to his coworkers across the room. They smiled and talked among themselves as they prepared their workspace. She looked down at the robe and realized, bashfully, that she was still in her bikini and didn't have any other clothing with her. She also realized that she had no money. Even though Mitch had already paid them, she wouldn't be able to pay any gratuity. Mitch did say that he'd come back to meet her, so she supposed he could pay them then.

She stepped behind the partition. There was a small wooden chair, and a hook on the wall with a clothes hanger dangling from it. She considered just putting the robe on over her bikini, but she remembered the thrill she got from her earlier topless sunbathing, and decided to take it off. She untied the sarong and folded it neatly on the chair. Her heart began to pound harder as she reached behind her back and unhooked the bra clasp, releasing her breasts and letting the bra slide down her arms and onto the chair. She would be able to relax better without that on, she told herself. But her erect nipples betrayed her excitement. After a brief moment of consideration, she hooked her fingers in the waist of her bottoms and slid them down her legs, bending at the waist. As she stepped out of them she could feel her cheeks burning.

Andrea tossed the panties atop her other clothes on the chair, and stood for a moment, completely naked, with only a flimsy partition of wood and fabric between her and five men. She ran her fingertips from her hips up, over her breasts, to her shoulders and back down before sliding her arms into the robe. She pulled it closed and tied it with a firm, single overhand knot. With a deep breath, she stepped out from the partition and toward the five waiting men.

They had finished their preparations, and were all looking in her direction. Asim smiled and gestured to a padded armchair with a footrest. "Champagne?" He offered as she sat. She smiled and accepted, hoping it might help calm her nerves. After a long drink, she set the champagne flute down on a tray next to the table that also had a plate of fresh fruit. "Please," Asim gestured again, "help yourself." As she bit into a strawberry she was aware of all of the men's eyes on her, and felt a bit like she was on stage. She decided to put the fruit aside for now, and have another sip of her champagne, which had been refilled when she wasn't paying attention.

"Ready to begin?" Asim asked patiently as Andrea drained the remaining champagne. She smiled and nodded. After selecting her nail polish colors, she reclined back in the chair and let the men begin their work. Asim stood behind her chair with his hands on her shoulders. "Relax." His voice was soft, yet firm. "You are on vacation, after all."

The men to her sides took her hands and began clipping, filing, and polishing her nails, while the other two did the same at her feet. With her hands and feet lifted, it almost felt as if she were floating in the sea again. It wasn't until several minutes had passed, and one of the men shifted her foot, that she became suddenly intensely conscious of the fact that she wasn't wearing anything under the robe. The hem came almost to her knee, and she wondered how much the men working on her feet could see.

Andrea felt her face flush as a tingle ran from between her legs up her spine. She tried to nonchalantly push her knees together without the men noticing, but wasn't able to move them much. Besides, the thought of those men seeing her was more than a bit of a turn-on. She had waxed for the vacation, and (now that the pain had passed) felt extra sexy and wondered if, on some level, she wanted to show of. They probably couldn't see much, she reassured herself, but just the possibility of them seeing anything at all unexpectedly excited her.

Andrea's heart continued to pound while they finished their work. Asim had been massaging her neck and shoulders the entire time. As he massaged, the thick robe gradually loosened. He slowly encouraged it farther and farther off of her shoulders, a few millimeters at a time. First loosening around the base of her neck. Then exposing her collarbone , and eventually her shoulders. His hands were warm as he pressed them firmly into her now-exposed skin. She could feel the fabric of the robe rubbing against her nipples, which were rock hard at this point.

When they had finished, she was given a few minutes to have more champagne and fruit. Again she focused more on the champagne, draining two more glasses while the nail polish dried. During this time, she noticed that the knot on her robe had loosened, and it was falling open a bit. But it was pretty much just around her shoulders, where Asim was massaging. Rather than adjusting, she decided to leave it be and take the risk.

As she finished her glass of champagne, Asim asked, "Are you ready to continue?". She nodded, and Asim gently pulled back on her shoulders, further reclining the chair and easing her head into a more relaxed position. Then, he covered her eyes with cucumber slices. He resumed his slow, gentle massage of her bare shoulders, fingers reaching ever-so-slightly farther with each pass.

While he did this, the other men resumed their posts at her hands and feet, but were now massaging, rather than filing and painting. Their fingers worked into her arches and palms, moving slowly up to forearms and calves. She barely noticed her knees being slowly pulled further apart as the men massaging her legs. This, combined with her more relaxed posture now gave the men a clear view up her robe, which they drank in hungrily as they gently rubbed her smooth legs. It wasn't until she felt a slight draft that she realized how exposed she had become. Her face burned, but as before, she found she was more excited than embarrassed.

At the same time, the men massaging her arms were reaching up her sleeves to her upper arms. Gently they stroked from her shoulder to her forearm. While they did this, her hands rested limply on their laps. She could feel their hot, hard shafts beneath the thin fabric of their pants. While she was thinking about the show she was giving the men at her feet, she absentmindedly rubbed her thumbs slowly back and forth along the bulges beneath her fingers.

Asim watched her as the robe opened farther and farther. He could see her breathing getting deeper and faster, and feel her racing pulse under his fingers. He smiled to the other men while he switched from massaging to gently caressing. By this point his fingers had nearly reached her nipples, and he began to trace the curve of her breasts before returning up to her shoulders. On their next round-trip, his fingers gently lifted the lapels of the robe, which had loosened to the point where it seemed her nipples were the only thing keeping it from slipping completely open. Ever so slowly, he leaned forward and slid the robe aside, fully exposing her firm breasts and perfect, pink nipples.

Leaning over her had put Asim's clothed cock centimeters from her face. Her eyes were covered, but she could feel the heat radiating from him and smell his musk. Her lips parted slightly and she gasped as he caressed lightly around her nipples, circling out to trace the entire curve of her breasts before running his fingers all the way up her neck, where he gently massaged her jaw.

The men at her legs had worked them even farther apart, and had been massaging farther and farther up, now tracing their fingers lightly along her upper thighs, coming ever closer to her soaking wet, and completely exposed, pussy.

All of her fingers were now involved in massaging the other two men's cocks, who no longer massaged her arms, but gently caressed her exposed breasts and teased her nipples. She was losing the ability to control her breathing, which became shallower and more erratic. Occasionally a quiet squeak would slip out. Anticipation sent shivers through her body, and she had to fight the urge to writhe on the table. The men at her feet were now grazing the glistening, pink lips of her pussy and it was driving her mad.

Asim had a hand on either side of her head and gently massaged her jaw as her breathing increased in intensity. His scent washed over her again like a drug, heightening her desire. She felt him caress her lips, and knew it wasn't his fingers. At the same time, she suddenly felt a hot, moist tongue press against her slit. She arched her back and opened her mouth, letting out an unintentional moan of pleasure. At the same time, she took Asim willingly into her mouth. Her next moan buzzed around his cock, and he grunted in approval. The men at her breasts were unabashedly fondling handfuls of firm tit with one hand, while their other hand pulled away their pants so that Andrea now had hot flesh in each hand. Dropping all pretenses, she stroked all the way up and down their cocks, while she rolled Asim's in her mouth and one of the other men alternated between licking circles around her clit and the full length of her pussy.

Andrea no longer tried to suppress her gasps and moans, and writhed uncontrollably in the chair as the men groped, licked, and caressed what felt like every inch of her body. The man at her pussy was relentless, and she felt herself getting ready to cum when he suddenly backed away. She moaned desperately around Asim's cock while tugging vigorously at the men next to her.

Asim pulled out of her mouth, and whispered in her ear, "Is there something else you want me to do for you?"

Andrea bit her lip and nodded in reply. A sudden shiver rolled over her like a wave as she felt a tongue flick momentarily across her clit.

"What do you want?" Asim's voice was still in her ear, but she could tell he had moved and was now standing between her legs.

Andrea opened her mouth to reply, but it was lost in a sharp intake of breath as she felt the head of his bare cock sliding against her waiting pussy lips. "Oh...God..." she whispered.

Asim continued sliding his cock along her slit and smiling as he watched her writhe. The heat of his bare skin against hers made her want him more. He allowed the tip to slip inside just a bit and she gasped again, arching and sending a jiggle through her tits. "Please..." she whispered, whining. "Please..." she pleaded again between gasping breaths.

Asim patiently ran the entire length of his shaft along the outside of her pussy, coating it in her wetness. "Jesus..." she gasped.

Asim leaned in again as he massaged her with the head of his cock. "Tell me what you want."

Andrea couldn't bear it any more. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him to her as she thrust her hips forward. "Fuck me." she gasped. "Oh God, please fuck me!"

Asim allowed her to take him inside of her, savoring every inch as he slowly slid inside of her. She arched her back again and was moaning uncontrollably while he pressed into her. He swirled his hips, pressing deeply into her, massaging her from the inside. She came almost immediately. Her muscles contracted and her legs held him to her like iron bands. At the same time, the other men exploded onto her chest, sending thick white drops slapping onto her quivering breasts. She realized that the other two men who had been by her feet had moved to her head, when, a brief moment later, they came on her face.

She gasped for breath as the shockwaves of her orgasm rippled through her. She felt Asim pull out, but it was a few minutes before she was able to move again. When she finally opened her eyes and sat up, all the men had left, and she was by herself. On the table next to her was a card with a picture of a red rose and the words Thanks, Come Again on the front. Inside it read, The robe is yours to keep. Think of us every time you wear it.