Eucalyptus

She lies face down naked on the couch. With his fingers he pushes her hair off her neck. He rubs oil into her shoulders and kneads at the knots between her shoulder blades. He exerts pressure until she moans and his fingers become tired. He enjoys her figure. The luxury of feeling her body. They talk in whispers pretending she is his client. Pretending she is comfortable being naked with another man touching her body. The thought itself gives them a thrill in that it is so commonplace and yet so risque. He asks her if she wants a full body massage. He asks if she wants her bum massaged. He takes each cheek in turn. Then he traces oil from the top of her spine to her coccyx. Eventually she rolls onto to her side. They laugh. They talk. She tells him about a massage from years ago. Before she met him. She went alone to a luxury spa. It was in the city. She had been naked. Maybe she wore a paper thong. She couldn't remember. She could remember the strong smell of eucalyptus oil. She could remember that the massage had been given by a man. It was awkward, she tells him. It wasn't sensual. It wasn't what he imagined. Her buttocks had been massaged though. That she recalls. She admits reluctantly. She admits coyly.

She asks what he would think if she did that now?

He tells her he would be jealous.

Both of them are breathing more heavily. Tiptoeing around a potential transgression.

Eventually he elaborates.

I would be jealous but turned on, he says. I would find it hot.

I will remember that she says smiling. It is the answer she was expecting. What if he brought me to orgasm?

The question lingers in the air.

He doesn't answer for a while. Uncertain. He nods.

It would drive me crazy, he admits. I would be torn apart. But turned on at the same time.

She smiles. They've drunk too much. Her nudity is disarming. Then she goes on.

What if it wasn't just with his fingers though, but with his dick?

She watches him now. Eyebrows arched.

He is aroused. Her use of the word 'dick' hits him like a hammer blow. He could see she hesitated, it is not in her usual vocabulary.

Now he is fingering her. Her head thrown back. Her legs apart. She is rubbing her clitoris. Her pleasure is increased by his pleasure. By playing with him. By saying the right things to make his heart accelerate.

Would you tell me all about it afterwards? he asks.

I would.

What would you say?

About the feel of his dick.

What about it?

That it is different. It would be arousing.

To be fucked by another man?

Yes.

Would he use a condom?

I would stop him from using one.

Would he come inside of you?

No he would pull out. He would ejaculate on my stomach.

She climaxes. Afterwards he tells her she is never allowed to go for a massage again. They laugh.

It is a time later that year when they are in bed that she reminds him of this conversation. She has her hand in his boxers. They were about to turn out the lights. About to go to sleep. Or so he thought. But he can tell something is different. She is being flirtatious. She is giddy. She is horny. Her fingers wrap around him and she pulls herself close to him speaking softly into his ear.

Ask me where I was this morning.

He asks her.

She tells him.

He can smell the eucalyptus oil on her body.

She feels his heart pounding and that he is becoming erect. She begins stroking him. Looking into his face. The intensity. The lust. The agony. When he is inside of her she begins telling him more.

At first I thought it was just part of the massage. I couldn't be sure. It happened so very slowly. I was so relaxed. Given over to abandon, she tells him.

With every sentence he thrusts harder. She loses her breath. She can't remember him like this. It is thrilling.

I knew it was wrong, she continues. I wanted to tell him to stop. But I couldn't. His hands had made their way down to my bum. His fingers exploring me. Then he would let up, return to my shoulders as if nothing happened, as if it was normal. Then the caressing returned. On the outside at first. It built up touch by touch. Even then I still allowed myself to think maybe this was part of the massage. And then there was another graze, a light brushing. Then more. He parted my labia from behind. He went back to my neck. I ached for him to continue and yet thought it was probably for the best if he stopped. And then he came back. He expertly found my clitoris. I wanted to scream with delight. His fingers slipping in and out of me. Building this tension. I knew it was wrong but that added to it. He had pulled me to the edge of the massage table. He had arched my back, I wanted to resist. I couldn't. I thought of you. I thought of us. I thought of our conversation. I thought of how you said you were turned on by whatever turned me on. You would be turned on even if it was me getting fucked by another man. Then I felt his penis enter me. I hadn't expected it to give me such a rush, the difference to you. He kept going deeper and deeper. It was so hard. I wanted all of him inside of me. I wanted it then so badly. I wanted to be fucked. I wanted to be able to tell you about it now. I wanted to see your face. Share it with you.

Her husband is beside himself driven crazy with her retelling. Grunting loudly. His chest heaving. His nostrils flared. His forearms pulsing.

Tell me more, he asks breathlessly.

His fingers moved across my backside while he was fucking me. He rubbed my arsehole in circular motions with his thumb. He gently applied pressure until it slipped in. It was sensational. I was all oiled up so there was no resistance until he was deep inside of me. When I came the first time I felt my vagina clenching around him, my anus enveloping his thumb sucking him in. He kept going and going. Pounding me. My whole body was contorted, doubly penetrated on him.

In the bed now she feels her husband shiver. His body slumps on top of her. She has her hands around his neck wiping away the sweat. It is now that she worries. It is not clear how he will handle it out of the fog of lust. Is he hurt? Is he still turned on? That was the best sex she can remember with him. Like he wanted to reclaim her. Emotions from a deep primal place. Something strange and animal unleashed. She looks into his eyes. She cannot read what is there. He is emptied out. He runs a finger down her jawline to her chin. She can see questions forming on his lips. He almost speaks. Then doesn't. They sleep. When they awake later she feels him aroused against her. He speaks.

Did it really happen? he asks.