Debbie's First Lover Re-Appears

Debbie is forcibly reencountered with the man who took her virginity two decades ago.

Every few months Debbie would pamper herself royally. She would take the entire day off and take the long drive to the Spa that had given her so much intimate pleasure. It was an extremely exclusive Spa, one that catered to a select clientele, "By Personal Referral Only" as the discrete sign on the door read. She would enter the subdued, plush lobby, check in with the receptionist, and soon be led to the Director's Office, a marvel of classy elegance. Jane, the director, would always greet Debbie with the affection that one reserves for the most valued client. As the two women sat in the social area of the office, the secretary would bring freshly brewed coffee and assorted tiny pastries to smooth the easy talk that served as a preamble to her stay there. Easy talk would slowly give way to more serious, still casual conversation about Debbie's recent life, her new discoveries about herself, and all other matters that would give Jane a better insight into Debbie's current needs and desires. Jane would make careful notations on Debbie's file, already thick with glossy pictures, notes, and comments from previous sessions. When all was done and said, Debbie would pay the day's exorbitant fee (cash only, please) and Jane would ring a tiny silver bell, and her secretary would guide Debbie to the preparation room.

Under the pleasant watchful eye of the secretary, Debbie would undress, neatly hanging her dress, folding her intimate apparel and placing it along with her shoes, watch, jewelry, and other personal belongings in the secure locker, don the thick cotton robe provided (with the Spa's elaborate logo richly monogrammed on the lapel), and she would be guided to the Spa area. There the secretary would take her leave, leaving Debbie with the attendants.

A flurry of attendants, young men and women, were ready to pamper Debbie. One would disrobe her, hanging the robe on a hook on the far wall. As Debbie would make her way, totally nude towards the table, all eyes would be on her, ready to start whenever she was. Lying down on the table, Debbie could feel soft music starting to play in the very distant background. The lights would be adjusted just right. The soft aroma of her favorite ambiance fragrance would start whiffing in. Even though Debbie could not see them, she knew that the various high-resolution video cameras were already taping her session from many angles at once.

She would lie down, make herself extremely comfortable, relax, sigh deeply, and prepare herself to let go completely for the rest of the day. The flurry of attendants would get to work immediately, all together, in that perfect choreography and beauty of coordination worthy of a majestic ballet. Her legs, armpits, and pubic hair would be shaved clean and gleaming smooth. One attendant (it no longer mattered if male or female) would pedicure the toes of her right foot, another, the left. One attendant would expertly manicure the fingers of the right hand, another, the left. One would massage the right thigh and calf, the other, the left. One attendant would massage her left arm, the other, the left. One attendant would massage her breasts, kneading them just perfectly, rolling her nipples with just the perfect combination of pressure and tension; another would be massaging her abdomen. In short, approximately ten men and women would be simultaneously attending to Debbie at the same time, each devoted to a particular task.

It had often been debated whether a woman in a spa would prefer the intimacy of a one-on-one relationship with her masseuse, but this particular spa offered a unique experience. It was committed to a complete-body treatment, giving each part of the body full and undivided attention, allowing the guest to wander off in her own thoughts, allowing her to release her body completely, feeling totally pampered. If Debbie wanted to converse with one or another attendant, the others would remain totally silent, and thus the conversation could be carried on in a very soft voice, adding to the unique character of the session.

When the manicure and pedicure were finished, and when the team leader felt that Debbie was ready, she would be turned over on her tummy so that her back could receive the very same attention. Hands would roam her entire body, oiling it along the way with warm, scented oil specially formulated for such purposes. Fingers would knead her tight muscles to relax them. Her joints and articulations would be loosened completely. Every single part of her body felt totally at ease. When Debbie had first come to this Spa, she had been very apprehensive at having fingers slide down her lovely ass, but in time, with patience and tremendous skill, the attendants had taught her to let herself go, and now those same fingers could slide with ease the entire length of her lovely behind, slipping comfortably with the aid of the oil.

A very slight tap on her butt, and Debbie would raise her pelvis just a bit. One of the attendants would slide a finger into her tight ass. Slowly, highly lubricated, with deliberate purpose the attendant's finger would make its way all the way inside Debbie. There were some women who had shown preference for a dildo, but after a few tries over a couple of sessions, Debbie had decided early on that she much preferred the intimacy and personal attention of having a live finger stimulate her ass, rolling freely about inside her, slowly allowing her to dilate herself. Debbie would relax completely, flat on the table, her legs gently parted while that particular attendant worked on her lovely ass from the inside, the others continuing their respective activities on all other parts of her body at once.

When the team leader felt Debbie was ready, she would be turned over on her back again, the finger still deep in her lovely ass. Her legs would be parted just slightly while the rest of her body continued experiencing its massage. One attendant would spray a generous amount of a highly effective desensitizer on her clitoris. This was the absolute only part of Debbie that was not touched, and the spray would serve to keep it from feeling anything. Such was the effectiveness of that particular spray that Debbie's clitoris would remain numb for hours. A few minutes later the attendant would dab just a touch of perfume to make sure it was not feeling a thing. If the clitoris were not totally numb, it would send the woman totally ballistic. The attendant verified that Debbie's diminutive clitoris was completely desensitized. After all, the Spa focused on liberating the entire body: sexuality was not the intent. Debbie would sigh. Besides, after twenty years' of marriage and several children, Debbie did not want sexual ecstasy. She merely wanted to be pampered. And she loved that final touch!

She knew what was next. It was always the highlight of the morning. One attendant would start to massage her face, starting at the temples and working its way down. This would keep Debbie focused on her own face, even though other attendants were just as busy as before on the other parts of her body. She would be slid down the table almost to the edge. Two attendants would take her legs, one each, and raise them up high and wide apart. One of the male attendants would penetrate her. It never ceased to marvel Debbie how extremely well endowed the male attendants were, each equipped with a very long penis of huge girth. He would penetrate her completely. Debbie, petite and slime as she was, could have easily been gratified by a man half that size. As it was, Debbie would feel complete filled to capacity and beyond, her labia spread and stretched almost past their natural limit by the enormous penises penetrating her at the Spa.

The male attendants were superbly trained and physically well disciplined. There would be no danger of premature ejaculations or other such embarrassments. With smooth, long, slow, and even strokes, he would enter her and exit, continuing on and on, without altering tempo or intensity. Debbie could relax completely, her body constantly massaged, her face gently caressed, a huge penis filling and emptying her without cease. Deep down there, Debbie could feel him getting ready. Without fuss or fanfare, he would ejaculate deep into her. Debbie could feel the copious ejaculate filling her to overflow. Debbie had often thought about this peculiarity and had come to the conclusion that among the requirements for male attendants, in addition to size was the amount of ejaculate they could produce!

When the first male had poured his passion into her, a second would follow suit. Sometimes he would resume vaginally, other times he might opt for anally. Debbie was never quite sure what sequence would be called for that particular session. But invariably, each male attendant would take his turn to fill her orifices to overflow.

Thus totally exhausted, Debbie would be helped off the table, robed loosely, and led, legs wobbling, to the social area. Lunch would be served to the dozen or so clients present that day. They would socialize among themselves, being served an exquisite lunch of light foods and good wine. Debbie could feel the ejaculate that had filled her oozing out in gobs from between her legs onto the robe, wetting the part that was in contact with her there. The clients, both men and women, had all had the same undivided treatment in the morning.

Debbie often wondered what had been done to the men for they too seemed just as drained as the women, and also seemed to be sitting on warm, wet puddles. After all, one of the clauses in the terms of the agreement of joining this very exclusive spa did say unequivocally, "Client grants absolute and unrestrained access by any and all attendants, male and/or female indiscriminately, to any and all parts of Client's body, external and/or external, at all times, in any manner as management may from time to time at its sole discretion so decide."

The service staff at lunch was different from the morning attendants. Debbie knew that during lunch Jane would be busy meeting in the large conference room with all the attendants from the different clients, reviewing the morning's video recordings, making careful notes and comments, planning the afternoon's sessions based on the morning's needs and reactions, filling each client's file with high-resolution images, filing the video recordings for another purpose.

Lunch would be usually followed by a rest period for the dozen or so clients present to take a short nap, read, or chat quietly. The afternoon would bring carefully supervised exercises for all the clients together, totally nude to encourage camaraderie, a trainer assigned to each client. It would be followed by a second, much more intense total-body massage, each client in his or her private room, as before, except that the afternoon attendants were rotated among the different clients. Debbie could speak from experience what would happen to the women in the afternoon. As in the morning, the male attendants would penetrate her, fill her to capacity with their ejaculate, and when everything was done and Debbie had recovered her energies, she would be douched (anal and vaginal) clean, bathed, fixed up, helped to dress, and sent off with a bottle of champagne and a card with her next appointment.

But today was different. Just as lunch was being finished, Jane approached Debbie. "Debbie, your birthday is coming up tomorrow. Would you accept a gift, courtesy of the house?"

Debbie looked up, very embarrassed that the other clients should know her birthday was just around the corner. It seemed odd that this would embarrass her, but not that she had just been taken by many men and that she was dripping ejaculates non-stop. She stammered, "Yes, Jane, that would be very nice. Thank you for thinking of me! What is the gift?"

Jane laughed, "Oh just something special. We did some research on you and found something special you might like. It's a surprise, of course!"

Everyone laughed, but Debbie was just a touch nervous. She knew that Jane had thick files on each client; that she kept photos and videos, and that nothing was private or secret when it came to Jane. Very prudently, Debbie realized it was better not to ask too much, repeating, ""Yes, Jane, that would be very nice."

The afternoon progressed as usual. Debbie was a bit nervous about the "surprise" but it seemed at times that her worries were out of place. And so when it was time to head back to the massage room, Debbie did not want to betray any emotion. The massage went even better than the morning one. The staff had reviewed the morning's videos and Jane had given the afternoon attendants their instructions for the respective clients. Some ten attendants massaged Debbie again, her muscles now sore from the exercises; the techniques called for were different. But basically the sequence as more or less the same as in the morning, complete with the deep fingering of her lovely ass and the spray of the highly effective desensitizer on her precious clitoris.

The only difference was that when the time came for Debbie to have her legs parted in preparation for penetration, Jane walked in. Jane then asked Debbie if she would mind wearing a blindfold. Debbie thought it was a bit odd. But since a birthday surprise is just that, a surprise, she acquiesced.

Debbie's legs were finally raised high and parted, the finger that had been in her lovely ass exiting slowly as Debbie moaned its loss. The male started to penetrate her.

Debbie realized this was different.

She could not tell exactly why.

After all, in all fairness, Debbie was strictly monogamous, not fooling around at all ever, having intercourse only with her husband, except for those rare occasions throughout the year when she came to this Spa. Debbie really did not have much experience with penises, but this one was totally different.

Debbie struggled mentally to figure out why.

The blindfold did not help matters.

Or maybe it did, since it forced her to THINK about why it was different. Debbie was not seeking sexual ecstasy: she just NEEDED desperately to know why it felt so different.

"OK," she thought, "This penis is not as huge as the others they always have here. Maybe it feels different because it fits inside me so perfectly? No, that is not it. Maybe it is less thick than the others they have here, so it stretches my labia less? No, that is not it. Maybe he is new at this and that is why his tempo and pace keep changing? Maybe. Am I being offered a virgin male? I doubt they still exist. Why is he moving so erratically? Maybe he really does like his job? Maybe he really does LIKE me?"

So many questions tumbled in her mind!

Yes, this penis was definitely very special, very unique. Debbie could not figure out why.

The man leaned over slightly and seemed to brush her face very lightly with his mouth, as if to kiss her slightly on the cheek.

The male's smell triggered her response.

It was instantaneous.

It was spontaneous.

Her voice screamed the answer out to the heavens almost before her mind had rationalized it!

'JOEY", Debbie screamed, "JOEY, JOEY, JOEY!"

Yes, it WAS Joey!

The same Joey who had deflowered her some twenty years ago, so lovingly and caringly one night in college!

She and he had only had intercourse that one and only time. But Debbie never quite forgot him! It had been her first and forever most perfect orgasm she had ever experienced! And now Jane had found him and brought him to ravish her again!

Debbie struggled with all her might to free herself from the attendants, to give her entire self completely to him. But they knew better and their instructions at lunch had been precisely to prepare for that eventuality. Their hands were firmly upon her body, pinning her down motionless, incapable to thrust. Debbie struggled and fought against them. Never mind her arms and legs and breasts and tormented nipples and widely dilated ass. Her entire body wanted to leap out and embrace him as he lurched wildly inside her.

Debbie cursed the attendants. They seemed to smile approvingly. Debbie shook her head to loosen that blindfold and see him once again. Jane had fastened it on too well: it stood its ground.

Debbie cursed and cursed that cursed desensitizing spray: if only her precious clitoris could feel the only love of her life pressing against it.

It was all to no avail.

She felt him climax inside her.

She wept softly.

He had ravished her and she had nothing to show him in return.

Nothing, nothing at all to show him in appreciation

She crumbled.

The attendants loosened their grip just slightly, stretching and flexing her very tight muscles, especially the legs. But the blindfold did not come off. Nor did the hands really ever leave her body, lest she try something foolish.

Unbeknownst to Debbie, Jane had joined them during Debbie's throes. Debbie heard Jane's crisp voice, "Thank you, Joey. That was very nice. You may exit her now. Stop by the front desk for your compensation for services performed strictly as per the terms of the agreement."

Debbie wept.

She sensed that maybe Joey wanted to touch her, or kiss her just once, or maybe just say something. But Debbie realized by then that he had been led out of the room. And probably led out of her life for good

Debbie wept inconsolably.

The attendants helped her off the table, douched her clean, dried her, and helped her dress, leading her back out and to her car.

Debbie drove home very slowly, taking the longest route possible, crying all the way. A few blocks from her house, she stopped to dry her tears and compose herself. She made it home, took a long bath, and went down to dinner with the family. Her children were their usual bratty selves. "Mommy, your friend Jane called to say hello, see how you were doing, and to wish you a happy birthday tomorrow."

Debbie was startled. She dropped her fork loudly on the plate. Her jaw dropped equally hard.

Her husband was his usual idiot self. "Debbie, what do you want for your birthday tomorrow, honey?"

Inexplicably, Debbie started to cry. Hiding her one true wish, the wish she had been harboring secretly for over twenty years, she lied "I just want a quite evening at home."

Late that night, Debbie softly masturbated. "Maybe Jane will allow me to see the video of today so that I can see his face just once more?" Debbie knew there was absolutely no chance: clients were not allowed to view the videos of their own sessions. Suffice it to say, ever so sadly, that Debbie was unable to attain a climax that night.

Or for a very long time thereafter, at that...