tagLoving WivesDon't tell Jim

Don't tell Jim


{This story is a short one, just an incident that happened way back. Lots of things have happened in my life, I happened to run into this lady named Cindy at the post office of all places. She smiled and said hello, it was interesting that she recognized me, after all, what I write here happened a bit over 40 years ago, in 1976. Also interesting, even with her being at least 70 years of age, she still looked pretty good. )


As a young man, like so many others, I really had no idea at all of what I wanted to do with my life. Sitting in some office somewhere, or doing the Doctor/Lawyer/Teacher bit was just not my thing.

For one thing, I grew up on our family farm, which was best described as remote. Food was something we either harvested in the woods, grew for ourselves, or we killed something.

Because we were always broke, the rich people all lived in town and had jobs in the paper mill.

There was a tiny town just 9 miles away, the only way to get there was to take the boat. I was 14 years old when suddenly we were modern, we got electricity, a road, the railroad trestles that went by us down by the river got converted into bridges. Assuming 12" wide by 4" thick planks that had to be moved forward in stages to cross could be called a bridge.

By that time, I was probably as close to being a wild animal as it is possible to be. I could go out and live in the woods, and probably gain weight. Still could, in fact, except now I get cold at night and the ground is too hard.


Having escaped from that as a young man, thanks to the military, I did my bit, until someone probably a mile away managed to get lucky. How they could even hit me at that range is beyond me, but it was not only once, but twice in the space of seconds.

Now I should suggest here that I got wounded while charging the enemy, blazing away with my rifle at the bad guys.

I was sitting in the damn latrine when the first one came in, it hit me high on the left side, felt kind of like a Bee sting. I let out a yelp, jumped up and got out of there. I made it maybe 10 feet when the 2nd one put me down, then I realized there were spurts of dirt kicking up all around me. Next came a bunch of racket as the guys all cut loose back at them, in the same general direction. They knew about where we were and we knew about where they were of course.

Kind of a typical skirmish, usually any firefights were at long distances, contrary to what some believe.

That was the end of my military career, I found myself home, with a wife best described as a bit wayward. My options were not good, I could go to work in the local paper mill, or look around for some low paying job working doing lord knows what, or go back to live on the big ranch which I am sure my parents would have liked.

To them, I would be cheap help, but I didn't like the 13-14 hour days, usually all seven each week.

Instead, I went to a local trade school, the plan was to do something in the medical field but somewhere in there I ended up learning the massage trade. In my head at the time was the idea of making around $10 an hour instead of the perhaps $3 or so the mill paid, and I could come and go as I pleased, work when I wanted.

That is what I thought, anyway. Besides, instead of hundred and hundreds of hours of training, massage school was just 75.

The military stipend let me rent an apartment, and covered the bare basics, barely. I still get that check today, 40 years later. Our government really does take care of us, sort of.

I got the idea of working with people as a therapist from the massages I got myself during my healing process, there was a period in there where I needed that. My left arm was messed up, in time it did work OK though. Plus, becoming a therapist was easy, 75 total hours at a place that taught massage and I was a professional, just like that.

I had been doing my best to build a clients list for a couple of years, and while I was probably doing better than most males trying to make it in that field, I was a long ways from being a raging success.

I did manage to get quite a few housewife types, it seems women love touch and far too many of you husbands just do not think of filling that particular need. That part it did not take me very long to figure out.

So, word got around that I was a guy that has no real objections to assisting when some lady was feeling in need, and I didn't mind that one bit. In fact, I enjoyed that, and the laws back then were foggy, it was not exactly illegal. The female "therapists" (not all of them mind you, but quite a few) openly offered the massage with what was called a hand finish.

Of course, as a male, had I hung up a huge sign like the massage parlors of the day did, I suspect that would have created quite a stir. Massage was NOT what one could call an equal opportunity type of business.

So, I ran polite ads, pretended to be a perfectly legitimate therapist. The surprise to some might be that that worked, and I found myself with a dozen regular clients and a few of what I called the one hit wonders.

Being young, cute, and in reasonably good shape was an asset. There was the problem of one lung that was at 50% capacity, but the human body compensates given time. The round that came in from the side as I was running for cover went through my left bicep into my chest, kind of created an intersection in there, one coming down through the damn latrine and the other coming in from the side. . At least that is what the military Doctors told me after they dug the metal out of me.

I was lucky, a whole bunch of the guys got sent home in bags. I admit to being happy to be headed home.


I met this couple at the bowling alley of all places, several times during the season my team would play against their team. It was a mixed league, we had every size and shape and age you can imagine, and Cindy was easily the best looking one of the bunch.

She was about 5 feet tall, no more than that. One of those women that are blessed, might be the word. She dressed in snug slacks, which made it very clear that she had booty, although that term had not yet been invented. She carried about 10 extra pounds, and if I had to guess I would say she was a large "C" cup. She always wore a bra that I could easily make out through the tops she wore, heavy straps and appearing to be designed to control things, which they did nicely.

Always a huge smile, a flirtatious manner, her husband Jim would be right there and that never appeared to bother him one bit. Nice guy, he smiled a lot also, after seeing his wife I couldn't blame him.

Then one day, she showed up but wasn't playing, and I noticed she had a limp. Several times during the match I noticed her reaching back with her right arm to rub her hip and side. I mentioned it to Jim, he explained she had been weeding their garden, got to pulling on some weed that didn't want to be pulled, the weed won and something let go.

I guess it was just my instinct, but at one point I went back to where she was sitting, had her lean forward and I began to work her shoulders and down her back, right there in front of everyone. Cindy tensed at first, then she realized, soon she was leaning forward and letting out some soft moans. I had to stop and go throw my own shot every once in awhile, then I would go right back and work some more.

At first, people were looking at me strangely but soon no one was paying any attention, what I was doing somehow became normal. Quite a few of them knew what I did for a living anyway, it was no secret, although I bet eyebrows might have gone up if they knew all of what I did. Probably somewhere in the 10-15% of my female clients got very personal service, including a couple of the ladies in our bowling league. It was all just hands, but very intimate hands.

"Good lord, Danny. You are so good at that, thank you!" Cindy told me as we were putting our gear away.

That was it for that night, I never even thought about it. It was just my instinct at that stage of my life, I had massaged several hundred people by that time, and to me, helping someone made me feel very good.


It was about 3 days later, I was sitting watching some TV show, Red Skelton I think, when my phone rang.

"Hi, Danny. This is Cindy, Jim's wife? I was wondering, how much do you charge for an appointment? My back and hip are just killing me." She said.

"It's $10.00 for a full hour, $18.00 for a two hour session. Would you like an appointment?" I asked.

"Yes, I would." She sounded happy at that.

I checked my schedule, which was a waste of time since I already knew there was nothing on it for a couple of days.

"I can get you in this afternoon, would you like one or two hours?" I asked her.

She booked for two full hours, which was a little bit rare, most just went for one.

Happy, I hurried in and grabbed my pile of drapes, headed down to our laundry room. I was always behind on that part. I managed to finish, get them folded and get my table rubbed down with alcohol, set up just in time, as I walked back into my tiny living room, she knocked.

I let her in, it was clear that she was nervous and didn't know what to expect. I showed her my table, suggested she undress to her level of comfort, and I asked the usual questions about what was going on with her body. She explained about her sore hip and the shooting pains up her back and side.

Then just as I was ready to leave and let her get ready, she asked me if she had to be naked.

"Of course not, you can leave your undergarments on, or even remain fully dressed if you prefer. It's a lot harder for me to help you through the clothes but if you are bashful....?"

"Well, I'm not, not really, it's just that...."

"I understand, it's fine. I just want to help you, is all. I do use a drape of course."

"Yes, I know. I suppose it will be all right. I asked Jim, he told me it was fine and he wanted me to feel better." She took a deep breath, I left the room to wash up. When I knocked and she said she was ready, the first thing I noticed was her pile of clothing on the chair, on top was a heavy duty white bra, so I knew she had taken that much off.

But I knew Cindy and her husband Jim, so I was expecting this to be one of the normal sessions. I stepped to the table, oiled my hands, rubbed them to warm them up and went to work.

Finding the problems that were causing her discomfort was easy, after a person has been working doing massages for any length of time, you develop some kind of a sixth sense. That combined with the way a body reacts to touch will direct the person doing the massage if they are paying any attention at all.

I was working through the sheet, and I could feel the overly snug flesh and the tightness going down the right side of her back into her hip. I began to concentrate my efforts, and her body began to relax.

I reached up and folded the sheet down to the middle of her back, she didn't react at all. I worked for a bit, moved the drape to her waist, still no reaction. It didn't take very many long sweeping motions and she was beginning to purr, I could see the sides of her fairly heavy breasts as they pressed against the table.

Working her side with overlapping pulls towards me made her moan again, I shifted downwards to her hip and got a surprise.

No panties.

"Do you mind if I undrape your Glutes while I work each side?" I asked.

"What's that?"

"Your.. you know.. your behind." I placed one hand on her opposite butt cheek over the sheet as I said that.

Cindy giggled.

"Fine. It's fine." She said.

I slid the drape back, folded it and tucked it between her legs from behind. Now the full length of her body on the side away from me was bare, and still no reaction from her other than she seemed to be enjoying it.

I began the long flowing strokes the full length of her body that I happen to know feels delicious, letting my fingertips drift partially over the side of her breasts. Since most of her body felt quite firm, I expected her breasts to feel the same way, but instead they felt very soft. And, there still was no real reaction at all, other than a few moans.

At this point, the drape was covering her from her hip, down over the portion of her fanny closest to me.. I oiled my hands and stepped over to the other side, not bothering to move the sheet. At this point, any women that are overly modest will reach down and adjust the drape, but Cindy didn't, she just lay there. For a moment I thought she was asleep, but then she turned her head to the side.

"Still doing OK? " I asked.

"Uh huh." She murmured. I reached out and folded the rest of the sheet towards me, now her only covering was a narrow strip right down the middle.

"I sense some tightness in you thighs, do you mind if I work there? It is a bit intimate, so I don't want to upset you." I told her.

"Oh, OK. It's fine Danny, really. Go ahead and do whatever you think will help, your hands really do feel great."

I began to stroke from the back of her knees upward, each time letting my hands drift off to the outside before they reached her groin. She shifted, rolled her hips back and forth, let her legs open a few inches. I just kept on, first on one side, then the other.

"That feels really good, Danny." She said in a tiny voice.

I placed my hands, one on each leg and slowly slid them upwards, each time getting higher and higher. After about a dozen strokes like that, her hips began to rise up from the table. I moved to step around to the side.

"Can you? Please, do that last part some more, Danny?" She asked, a shudder in her voice. So, I stepped back to the foot of the table, repeating that last part. Except now, I let my hands go under the edge of the drape, stopping when I felt a mass of pubic hair. Her hips lifted even higher, I let my fingers barely bump her, she released a gasp.

Slowly, with each stroke, I nudged the sheet higher and higher, waiting for her to realize and tense up. She didn't, then she shifted slightly, parted her legs a bit more. Her pubic hair came into view, she had to know at this point but there was no other reaction except her breath quickened.

Then I moved back to the edge of the table.

"God, that felt good, Danny!" She managed with a sigh. Then she giggled again.

"OK. Time to turn over." I told her, holding up the drape. Of course I got a nice look at her bare breasts as she did. I saw he glance up, she caught me looking and just smiled. Then she settled in, as I tucked the sheet in securely. I stepped up to the head of the table, began on her shoulders. As I worked downwards over her upper breasts, she again did not react. I let my fingertips drift in under the sheet, and brushed them lightly across the upper edge of her nipples. She shuddered, I did it again, each time getting the same small shudder from her. Clearly, her nipples were quite sensitive. At her abdomen, I pushed the drape over, of course this made the sheet slip down, baring one breast completely.

"Sorry, clumsy of me." I said.

"It's OK, Danny. Really." She reached up and tugged the sheet to her waist.

That I understood perfectly. Her breasts were the softest I had ever touched, and yes, they lay over to the side slightly. That explained the heavy bra, of course. She shuddered again as I reached with one hand and cupped the one closest to me, in short order I was massaging both thoroughly,

Cindy had her eyes squeezed shut tightly, and her face looked like she was almost in pain. Of course I knew very well that there is not a lot of difference between a painful and pleasurable expression, so I kept on.

Then before I let my hands drift down to her tummy, I rolled up a small towel and lay that across her nipples. By then I had learned that trick, women lying there with their upper bodies bare will often begin to tense up, since they are aware of that. It's fine while working on them but once moving on, I cover them, just barely.

That actually is even more erotic, if that makes any sense.

When my hands began the slow clockwise circles on her tummy, her breath quickened a little. I let them drift lower with each circle, finally right across the top of her pubic hair. Her breath was now coming in short little gasps, she was getting turned on. I folded the sheet sideways, began to work her hips right up to the edge of her pubic hair, then switched sides and repeated that. Now the drape was barely covering her loins.

Stepping down to the foot of the table, I began long strokes, starting at her knees, upwards, slowly, very slowly. At each stroke, I softened my touch, until it became almost a tickle. Cindy was breathing very quickly now, so I let both thumbs slip inside the drape, brushed lightly up and over her soft lips. She let out a short groan and he hips thrust upwards to meet my now busy thumbs.

The first orgasm crashed over her, the drape slipped aside and she was very damp. I kept on as I felt her building again. The rolled up towel slid off since she was squirming around so much, Cindy now was gloriously naked, her legs splayed widely, accepting my efforts.

I managed to take her through three climaxes, finally her hips dropped and she lay still. I tucked the sheet in snugly around her and left the room.

It was about 15 minutes later that she came out, fully dressed.

"Danny, I never experienced anything like that in my life." She told me with a shy smile.

"I'm glad, you are fun to work with."

"Please, don't tell Jim." She said.

"Our secret." I told her.

She handed me a $20 bill, went to her car and with a wave, she was gone.


The next week I was down at the bowling alley, Jim and Cindy came in. She waved and headed off to the locker room, Jim came over and sat down at the table I was at.

"Hey, thanks for helping Cindy out, Dan." He told me with a grin.

"My pleasure, glad to help."

Then he looked around to make sure no one was near.

"How far did she let you go?" He asked.

I hesitated at that.

"I mean, did she let you rub her tits?"

"I don't think I should be telling you, the sessions are private." I managed.

"I just want to know." He said.

"Jim, partial nudity is just part of the job." I told him.

"It's OK. I figured something happened, she came home hot as a pistol!" He laughed. I probably blushed, Jim went into the men's lockers to get his equipment just as Cindy came out.

"What did Jim have to say?" She asked as she came over to where I sat.

"He wanted to know about the massage session." I said.

"I see. What did you tell him?"

"Nothing, of course."

"OK. He asked a lot of questions. I admitted to some of it, and it's weird. Instead of getting all mad, he got excited and I have never seen him like that before. God, he did it three times!" Cindy said, then she laughed. I got a kick out of that, we were both laughing when Jim came out with his gear.

I went over to the pair of lanes I was bowling on, several times I looked over to where they were to see Cindy looking my way with a smile. After league, I was putting my own gear in my locker when Jim came in. He asked me how it went, I had an average night so I told him.

"Say, can I ask you a question?" He asked.

"Sure." I answered, steeling myself for some more 3rd degree about the massage session.

"Next time Cindy comes over, can I tag along and watch?" He asked.

"I guess so, as long as Cindy doesn't mind." I told him. He left with another big grin on his face.

I managed to catch Cindy by herself on the way out, Jim wasn't in sight so I told her what he had asked.

"Oh, really? I was wondering about that, he sure was curious." Again she giggled, just then Jim showed up and they left, holding hands.

I headed home myself, thinking that probably the "Don't tell Jim." part was out the window.

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