Massage Therapy Ch. 04

Ashlyn ground her teeth and sighed. "Fine, fine! But this stays between us, got it?!" Layla nodded and made a zipping gesture on her lips.

"So... the reason I haven't gotten back to you today and yesterday is because..." Ashlyn hesitated for a moment and nervously bit on her thumb. "I've been with him..."

Layla scrunched her brows confusingly. "With him? You can't mean you've been doing it for that long-. Ashlyn! I thought you said this was supposed to be professional!"

Ashlyn's ears got blazing hot. "It is!" she objected.

"What?! I'm having a hard time believing that. He's at your house, and from what you said, I assume that he stayed over, right? And what about Harry? Isn't he going to find out?!" Layla whispered loudly.

"Harry went out of town for a business trip without giving me any advanced notice," Ashlyn explained, sounding frustrated. "So, with him out of town, I just needed to blow off some steam, okay? Release some, er, stress..."

"For a whole day? I never heard of any 'professional massage session' lasting for that long," Layla exclaimed, her mouth falling agape.

"Listen, I needed to blow off a lot of steam. Please understand," Ashlyn pleaded, trying to paint a clearer picture.

Layla sighed and rubbed her forehead, trying to gather her thoughts. Everything just felt so off. She was getting awfully suspicious. No, criminally suspicious. She needed more answers, but right now didn't seem the optimal time to get them. Ashlyn was still noticeably on guard and was clearly holding more back.

"Okay, okay! I get it," Layla conceded.

Ashlyn sighed in relief. "Thank you."

But clicking her tongue, Layla continued, "Oh, you're not off the hook yet. You're holding something back. And you will tell me everything."

Ashlyn gasped. "What do you mean, everything?!"

Layla's eyes went dead and gave her a knowing look. "Listen, you don't have to do it right now. Are we still gonna have our little thing today?"

Ashlyn looked ashamed. "Well, about that... Could we move it to tomorrow? That's when Harry gets back." Layla rolled her eyes. "This wanton slut!"

"Don't tell me he's gonna spend the night again. This is seriously getting strange, Ashlyn. I don't know if I can keep this up."

"Please, I'll tell you everything!" Ashlyn blurted out. "I'll tell you everything... But it will have to wait until tomorrow. Just don't tell anyone, please..." she begged.

Seeing how distressed her best friend was, Layla sighed and nodded in agreement. "For the millionth time, I'm not going to tell anyone, Ashlyn! But fine. Tomorrow then. But I want it cut and clear, got it? No more lies, dancing around, or any sort of nonsense bullshit." Ashlyn eagerly nodded. "Okay, go on and have your fun. I'll see you then."

Layla gave a playful wink and walked off. Ashlyn gasped but couldn't say anything since she was right. Watching her attractive brunette friend walk off into the distance, she suddenly felt a body press up against her back.

"Is your pretty friend gone now?" Goro asked, grabbing onto Ashlyn's wide hips and kissing the middle of her exposed toned back.

Swiveling her head back to the old man, she didn't know what to think about his bold actions. "Goro! What the heck was that?! Grabbing my ass like that was dangerous, and why were you holding her hand like that??" Ashlyn exclaimed.

"I can't grab my lover's ass? You like it, didn't you, no?" Goro replied. Ashlyn sighed and abashedly nodded.

"Heh, and I just thought your friend has very nice hands. I want to feel," Goro explained in a suggestive manner.

Ashlyn gasped. She immediately picked up on what he wanted from Layla. She should have felt repulsed that he wanted her as well. But the more she thought about it, the more she found herself getting strangely aroused at the idea of this sleazy old man trying to get at her friend. There was something primal about a man, albeit an older one, knowing what he wanted and trying to claim it. And lately, Layla had been increasingly uptight; knowing her husband John, perhaps she might also need some relaxation as well. Besides, it would serve her right for prying so damn much!

But shaking her head back into focus from her depraved thoughts, Ashlyn said, "Hey, that's my best friend we're talking about. You can't just do that!"

"What? Gomen, sorry. I just can't help. She just so pretty. Can't help."

Ashlyn noticed a devious grin grow on his wrinkly face. "Enough of that," she commanded, rolling her hazel eyes. "This dirty old man is hopeless."

Then feeling something hard and pointy poking her ass, Ashlyn bit her lip. "Oh? Hard again, are we?" she cooed, reaching over and holding onto Goro's bony wrists.

"Heh, hai, hai, you know I am. Now shall we take this to the kitchen?" Goro smirked, giving Ashlyn's exposed back a wet kiss.

"Mhhmm, if that's what you want. Come on, my Japanese bull," Ashlyn replied in a low sexy voice.

Closing the front door and locking it, the two proceeded into the kitchen to continue their nasty deeds.

-

After getting into her car, Layla just sat there, trying to process everything that had just happened. She dissected every bit of detail. From the state of Ashlyn's appearance, she could easily deduce that she had either just woken up, or was in the middle of doing something nasty and depraved.

Reminded of how moist and sticky this Mr. Tanaka guy's hand was, Layla brought up the hand he had molested. She rubbed her fingers against her palm, then she squealed in disgust as she realized that her hand was now sticky as well. "God, it's on my wedding ring, too..." Although her relationship with her husband had deteriorated, she still wore it out of obligation.

"Augh, gross," Layla muttered. She could only imagine why his hand was sticky in the first place. Though, the answer to her question could be narrowed down pretty easily. She just didn't want to think about it.

But the more she stared and rubbed her sticky hand, the more curious she got. Thoughts of her close friend doing the nasty with that old man ran rampant through her mind. And now, what she could presume was evidence from their last 'session' was directly in contact with her. But there was only one way to find out for sure.

Taking some time to contemplate, she had finally enough. Her curiosity kept nagging at her, and she needed to know. Sometimes she cursed her quizzical nature. Bringing her left hand up to her nose, Layla flared her nostrils and took a whiff.

Her olfactory sensors immediately received a good dose of musk and the familiar smell of a woman's juices. She immediately took her hand away from her nose. "Welp, that answers that question," Layla easily concluded, pumping some hand sanitizer into her sticky hand to cleanse the stench of sex.

Everything felt surreal. Although Ashlyn had told her what she was doing, Layla's brain hadn't actually wanted to believe her until there was evidence. And this was irrefutable confirmation, mostly.

Fully cleaning her hand, Layla got ready to put the keys into the ignition but stopped. She couldn't believe that her close friend was fucking an old Japanese man. It was so depraved, so dirty. The man wasn't even remotely attractive. Then, reminded of what she had seen, her mind turned to the old man's male parts.

Layla was sure that he had been erect. She hadn't been able to properly tell how big, because Ashlyn had interrupted her, but he had definitely been hard. "Did he get hard from touching my hand?" she wondered. From what she could recall, Layla hadn't seen that same obvious tenting of the towel when she had gotten her first glance at him through the door. So he definitely must have gotten hard touching her hand.

The thought of Ashlyn's pervy masseur getting hard from touching her hand sent a shiver down her spine. "That dirty old perv!" She felt irked, but at the same time, weirdly aroused. She couldn't fully grasp why she was feeling that way. Maybe it was because the lack of intimacy and affection from John had left her unfamiliar with such emotions. Of course, Layla was used to how men ogled her at every opportunity, but the way Goro had looked at her... There had been something animalistic in his stare. Like he saw prey he needed to conquer.

"He did seem kinda big..." Layla thought. She was so focused on figuring out what about him appealed to Ashlyn that she kept trying to picture what this 'magic cock' looked like.

But the more Layla thought about it, the more unsure she was about what she had seen for the briefest of moments. Maybe she was adding more to the short interaction than had actually been there. She had allowed the old man to fiddle with her hand. And Ashlyn's tales had no doubt played some part in what Layla had read into the situation. Her curiosity continued to eat away at her.

"Ugh, why am I like this..." she groaned, banging her head against the steering wheel. The shrouding veil of that towel had rendered things mysterious. Whatever was under there certainly had her best friend enamored with it.

After still more thought and speculation, Layla found herself contemplating one of the creepiest things she had ever done in her life. A thought that was totally out of character for her. She was tremulously unsure whether she wanted to go through with it. Except she wanted, no, she needed to know. Of course, Ashlyn had said that she would tell her everything tomorrow, but Layla needed to know now.

Sighing, she tucked her keys back away and got out of the car again. As she made her way up the driveway, Layla carefully scanned her surroundings to make sure none of the neighbors were watching. Heading back to the front door, she suddenly stopped.

"What am I doing?" Layla queried her intentions. She didn't even have a proper plan of action. She knew exactly what she wanted to find out, but not how she meant to go about it.

But since she was already back at Ashlyn's front door, she might as well take the next step. "God, I hate myself, I hate myself," she repeated in her head, even as she allowed her own insatiable curiosity to drive her actions.

Walking up to the door, Layla placed her ear against it carefully and listened closely. At first, there was silence broken only by the ambient noise of birds chirping and the wind ruffling the leaves of the surrounding trees. But closing her eyes to focus on her hearing, Layla gradually constructed a better mental picture of what was going on behind the door.

After a few moments during which she sensed very little, Layla was about to give up. But then, her ears perked up as she thought she heard a faint muffled sound coming from deeper inside the house. Even this small bit of information made her strangely excited. Her scalp prickled, and she pressed her ear even tighter against the door as her whole body tried to merge into the door to get a better listen.

Layla heard yet another muffled sound, louder than the last. It sounded like a squeal or something else, she wasn't sure. But she knew that it was definitely coming from a person. Eventually, the muffled noises echoed consistently from wherever the source was, deeper inside the house.

"Are they? Right now? I just left! No way..." Layla mumbled, cupping her hand to her ear to try to receive an even better reception. But, to her dismay, the source was simply too far away to acquire a proper reading. Somehow, she needed to get closer.

As creepy as she felt about spying on her best friend, Layla was too invested to just give up now. She kicked herself for doing this, but she just had to see it for herself.

Partially retracing her steps, Layla made her way around to Ashlyn's side gate. She was very acquainted with Ashlyn's home since she'd been there so often. Scanning her surroundings like a hawk, Layla carefully reached over the wooden gate and lifted the latch. Cautiously opening the gate, she entered the side yard, then carefully closed the gate soundlessly behind her.

Layla tip-toed deeper around into her best friend's backyard. There was no way to be sure if Ashlyn was even on the first floor. At this point, the sneaking brunette was just moving forward without any definite plan in mind. But as she got closer to the back of the house, the faint muffled noises got progressively louder and louder. "Oh... fuck..." A quiet feminine moan suddenly came from within the house. Layla froze in place. "That was definitely Ashlyn," she concluded.

As Layla approached the pool area, her friend's moans became more apparent than ever. Whatever she was doing, she was definitely doing it in her kitchen, the room was immediately adjacent to the backyard.

"Ah, ah, ah. Right there, hmmm keep doing that. Oh... that feels good!" Layla heard from just behind the glass sliding door.

Layla's heart pounded. She was so close to the source. Hugging the wall next to the sliding door, she crouched down, listening to her friend presumably having sex just inside. More muffled moans sounded from within. Layla was aware that these moans weren't your standard moans, they sounded more sensual in nature and full of lust.

"Oh, fuck! Yes! Goro! Keep pounding me!" Ashlyn moaned.

Layla gasped and quickly covered her mouth hearing such vulgar language. "Goro?! That must be his given name." There was no way her friend should be on a first-name basis with her supposed 'therapist' if their sessions could make any claim to being 'professional'. Leaning her head closer to the source, Layla continued to listen to their naughty vocalizations.

"Augh! So tight! Suburashi! I love this married pussy," her old masseur groaned.

"Ah! Yes! I love how your big Japanese cock pounds my married pussy!" Ashlyn wailed.

The curious brunette's jaw dropped. "Big Japanese cock? Married pussy? Oh, my god... Is this really happening right now?" she muttered. Layla was more certain than ever that whatever was going on was far from professional.

Layla didn't know how to feel. She wanted to feel outraged that her friend had lied yet again about the character of her arrangement with her massage therapist. But hearing her best friend wailing with pleasure kept toying with her, playing on her own increasing level of arousal. Ashlyn sounded like she was having the time of her life!

Even during her glory days with John, she couldn't remember having the kind of sex that Ashlyn seemed to be receiving from her skinny old Japanese 'therapist'. What Ashlyn was going through gave every evidence of being the mind-blowing out-of-this-world thermonuclear level of sex she had been raving about. Layla felt that ember of arousal within her growing as the moans and groans kept piercing through the glass sliding door to the kitchen.

A part of her wanted her to get up and leave. But her curiosity kept her anchored right where she was. Layla felt like she must look so desperate and depraved as she crouched down in the backyard of her best friend's house and listened in as she got railed by an old Asian man.

Closing her eyes, Layla began to conjure up images of what must be happening just on the other side of the sliding door. She didn't dare peek around the corner. But the more she listened to the muffled moans, the more her nosiness kept picking at her.

"Oh, fuck fuck FUCK! Goro, you're going to make me lose my fucking mind! Holy shit!" Ashlyn screamed.

A shiver ran down Layla's spine. Ashlyn sounded like a woman possessed. What kind of dick was she receiving? It must be amazing. No matter how well she could imagine what was going on, Layla needed to be certain that the rumors were true about this Asian man's magic cock; she needed to see for herself.

More moans came echoing from inside. Layla ran her hands through her hair and she unknowingly bit her lip. The nefarious activities she was listening to sounded so erotic, so hot. It was like she was listening to something she shouldn't, something secret and dirty, but that she just couldn't pry herself away from.

The burgeoning urge to witness her friend's fornication with her own eyes continued to eat at her. She gripped her wavy brown hair as she contemplated what to do. She didn't want to seem like some pervert spying on two people having sex. But at the same time, the moans and groans kept enticing her to come to take a look. It was like they were playing games with her, trying to exclude her from the verification she needed the most. Like trying to forbid a prize-winning reporter from access to her next big scoop.[1]

"Mhhhhh, yes! Pound your pussy my big - Japanese - bull..." Ashlyn sexily cooed.

"Japanese bull?!" Layla screamed to herself. Now she was a hundred percent sure that this was more than professional therapy. That was the straw that broke the camel's back.

"A quick look wouldn't be too bad," she rationalized. "I'll just see for myself, then get out of here."

Carefully edging her head around the corner to peer through the sliding door, Layla was met by a veil of curtains obstructing the scene she so desperately wanted to see. Snarling in annoyance, she crawled on her hands and knees to find any sort of opening. Spotting a slight opening in the curtain, Layla swiftly scampered over to it.

Once there, she took a deep breath and composed herself, before finally taking a gander through the gap. Layla's amber eyes widened as she could finally visualize the actions she had been eavesdropping on.

Gasping, Layla was greeted by the sight of her best friend bent over the dinner table, with her dirty old masseur behind her. They were buck naked, their towels strewn on the floor around them. From where Layla crouched, she could partially see their sides, but most of the view was of their naked asses. This angle tantalized her curious mind even more.

Layla could tell herself that she was going to leave any second now, but her body was glued to this spot. She had to look for just a little while longer. If nothing else, she needed the two of them to turn a little more, to let her see just a bit of what was getting dealt. Layla couldn't pry her eyes off them. Ashlyn's Japanese masseur was humping away at her like they were rutting animals in the process of mating.

The limited angle of her view through the gap in the curtains was just enough to satiate her curiosity but was confined enough to stoke it even further, demanding that she see even more. Layla could hear their muffled moans; she could see Ashlyn's thick ass jiggle with each thrust from her 'massage therapist'. She observed a small glistening sheen of wetness gathering around where they repeatedly connected as Goro thrust forward.

"Oh my..." Layla muttered, seeing what she could scarcely believe so far. The old guy was really turning Ashlyn on, giving her everything a woman could want. "Jesus Christ, he's really giving it to her," she thought, unknowingly nibbling her bottom lip. The longer she watched the ferocity with which her best friend was getting absolutely railed, the more the warm feelings within her own core were being stoked.

Seeing them going at it, Layla's thoughts traveled back to their little gossip session a few days ago, conjuring up images of how Ashlyn had almost been aglow as she recounted the benefits of her special Japanese therapy. "Does the old bastard really have a magic cock??" Were all the rumors from Ashlyn true then? Layla was dying to know what kind of size they were dealing with, what kind of weaponry was making her friend shriek and moan so loudly that she could be clearly heard all the way out where Layla crouched in hiding.

"Fuck!" Layla cursed inside her head, feeling herself getting aroused just from watching her friend get defiled so thoroughly. She had inadvertently started to squirm where she was kneeling in place. Unknowingly, Layla's panties moistened as she bore direct witness to something so primal and lustful.