Stevie Found Out the Hard Way Ch. 01byATLovin©
It's not that Steve Thomson wasn't appreciative of the birthday present he got from his wife Sara, it's just that when he opened it he was surrounded by a gang of his best buds, all of whom were whooping it up and ogling his new Callaway Diablo driver, courtesy the fellas at work.
"I'll be banging some monster shots down number 8 at Fairoaks this weekend, I can tell you that," Steve snorted, to nobody in particular, as he polished off his 6th beer of the young evening.
Amidst the snorting and imbibing and talking to himself, he was handed a small envelope from his wife, who had been watching the festivities while enjoying the companionship of the other wives, who were huddled as usual in the kitchen in their small enclave around the breakfast nook table.
"Aww, for me?" Steve grinned sheepishly and cocked his head at his wife. She literally had him in the palm of her hand. Had been that way since they met. Steve had finally won her away from another potential suitor, Danny Royce, when they were all in college together. Steve had worked very hard to get and keep Sara. Danny had hung around, somewhat in the picture, for months and months. But in the end, Steve won when Danny didn't make his grades and had to leave his sophomore year, mid-semester, to enroll in a junior college.
That was the last he heard of Danny Royce, although from time to time Sara mentioned an offhand communication from him. Seems they were Facebook friends, although Sara said they rarely spoke, if ever. Steve hated Facebook and refused to be a part of the pack when it came to such marketing schemes. He was proud of his moralistic high ground on that one. He belched impressively to punctuate that thought.
'What? A salon? Did you get me a haircut?" Steve tried to focus his drunken eyes on the contents of the envelope.
"No silly, look again. Harder. With your eyes open this time." Sara giggled.
"Oh uhhh...a massage?" Steve wondered if he had said that out loud. A quick check of his buddies, swinging away with the Diablo and just missing the ceiling fan each time, confirmed they hadn't heard a thing. "a m-a-s-s-a-g-e?" He mouthed to Sara.
"Y-E-S," she mouthed back. Steve momentarily was speechless, just because it was the last thing he had expected, but then recovered to smile and tell his wife thanks, he would really put that to good use.
Like hell, he thought. I'm not letting some ugly chick or, worse yet, a dude, rub my back. I'll see if I can trade it at work with one of the secretaries in the motor pool at work for something. Karen, the one with the big rack, is married to the lead caddie at Fairoaks -- maybe I can get a free round at the club.
Sara gave a quick smile and a nod, wheeled about and returned to her gaggle of wives in the kitchen. Steve went back to boozing it up with the fellas.
Fast forward a couple of weeks. Steve was really taking that new driver to town. He was driving nearly 200 yards on most holes. The new driver, plus the extra practice, was really paying off. Now he had to focus on his short game.
He was in the garage, absent mindedly trying to find his golf glove and scheming to come up with a way to buy a new putter and not tell Sara when he remembered the gift certificate for the massage. Oh shit, he thought: I need to see if I can get this traded for some cash at work. He headed upstairs, found the envelope on his work desk right where he had left it, and started down the hallway. Sara came out of the spare bedroom and they almost bumped into one another.
"Ah, I see you are going to get your massage?" she asked.
"Uh, yeah, no, well, not right now. I was just putting this on my dresser so I don't forget it."
"I see. Well, I hope you will go get your massage. You deserve it. And I think you will really enjoy it -- this place gets a lot of raves."
"What -- from your girlfriends? I don't want to go to some hoity toidy girls shop, Sara. It makes me feel...well...uncomfortable."
"Fer chrissakes Steve, man up. I thought all guys liked to be touched by a woman? Or do you prefer a guy?" At this last comment, Sara took off running for the bedroom and leapt in the bed, pillow raised, ready to defend herself.
Steve pursued and cornered her at the bedpost. He didn't say a word. Expertly, he removed her t-shirt, bra, shorts and panties, seemingly in a few deft moves. Making steady eye contact with him, Sara slowly spread her legs apart, showing her tender hairless labia and a good-sized clit that Steve's tongue couldn't resist. He got busy in a hurry lapping up that gorgeous pussy, and Sara had two orgasms before Steve got to do his thing with, well, his Thing. His strainings and groanings reached a crescendo as he emptied himself into his wife, who immediately was in the mood for further discussion.
Rather impatiently, Steve thought, after such good sex, Sara piped up. "Listen baby, I want you to get your massage. But there is something else I need to tell you about. Gina."
"Gina your divorced Latina friend?"
"Yes that one."
"Go on." His remaining semi-chub and any hope of sloppy seconds were quickly doused.
"She works at this salon and I bought this certificate for her. Before you get all indignant, because I know how you feel about her, hear me out. She is new at this salon, just got her LMT a few months back. She has not had many clients and in order for her to get hired at bigger salons, she needs to get her client hours and billings up. This is one way I...we...can help her."
"I don't have anything against her -- other than she gets drunk too easily and then starts talking about your crazy past or our current disagreements at parties and dinner events."
Sara stuck her tongue out at him. "But what is really weird is that your friend will be touching me and seeing me naked -- are you ok with that?"
Steve didn't say it but he also didn't like Gina because she had known Sara before he did. They were double dating buds back when Sara was fucking, er, dating, Danny in college. She suspected Gina of keeping that flame alive somehow, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He didn't hate Gina, but he sure didn't trust her.
"Honey, there are rules about nudity and being covered up. You'll see. Will you just trust me and do me this favor?"
"It depends," he said.
"On what you are going to do with that tongue you stuck out. It looks to me like it hasn't had enough of this right here," he said, jostling his package with her hand.
"I see. Well, you could be right." She slid down and slipped her lips slowly over the head of Steve's penis, reaching up to tweak his left nipple as she took him all the way in.
"Now you're talking," he sighed. So where is this massage place?
Steve arrived at Barriga's Salon at 1:58 pm on Saturday. His appointment was at 2:00. He sized up the situation and although he was nervous, he had resigned himself to the massage.
After talking with a couple of his trusted buddies, who told him it was a great experience, especially if there was some "hand release" at the end, he was forming a new opinion. If only it wasn't Gina. And of course since it was Gina there would be no hand release. Steve took solace in knowing that he would get a solid fucking later from Sara for doing this favor.
He pushed open the door, the door alert bell rang, and he stood alone in the entry of Barriga's Salon and Massage. It was empty and quiet.
"Hello," he called, rather softly. The place was dark and he couldn't see too much yet as his eyes were adjusting. He detected motion in the hallway, and suddenly Gina appeared, wearing a red sarong and Barriga's t-shirt, smiling warmly, and approaching rapidly.
Even in these loose garments Steve could see her tight rack sitting high as it always did. And a cute curvy little figure. She was short, with small hands and small feet, and curves in all the right places. A little plump in a good way.. Not beautiful, but sexy, yes. Ahh, Latinas.
Steve managed a half smile, and stuck his hand out to greet her, saying as warmly as he could, "Hey Gina!" She passed his outstretched hand and engulfed him in a bear hug, from the chest down due to her height deficiency, but a bear hug nonetheless. Steve returned the hug but didn't bend over or anything. He could feel her breasts pushing into his ribcage.
"How the hell are ya Stevie!" She had always called him Stevie. Another thing he didn't like.
"Oh, you know, doing the same. It's all work work wo..."
She cut him off. "Well let's get started. I'm the only one here right now, so let's take advantage of the quiet while we can. We may get a rush and then I will be hopping around here."
It didn't look like there was ever a rush in this place, but Steve played along. She took off down the hallway, her loose skirt flapping behind her.
He followed Gina, past the signs that read "ALL CLIENTS MUST BE DRAPED WITH A TOWEL OR SHEET DURING MASSAGE -- NO EXCEPTIONS" and "ANY REQUEST OF A SEXUAL NATURE WILL BE REPORTED TO THE AUTHORITIES". Wow, he thought, this place is really strict. Good for them.
However, any last remaining hope for hand release, as silly as he knew it was, vanished. She stopped at room 3, opened the door and motioned for him to enter.
As he walked in, his eyes adjusting to the dim light from candles, he noticed the soft music playing and the aroma of potpourri -- he wasn't sure what it was but it smelled like some lotion Sara used sometimes. He noticed the massage table, a chair, and two bottles on a side table. One was water, and the other was, presumably, oil. It looked like a mustard squirt bottle, only it was clear not yellow.
"Ok Stevie, you can put your clothes on the chair and there is a hook behind the door if you need it. Get on the table face, down and I will be back in a few." With that, she left and closed the door.
Steve slipped off his shoes, took off his pants, rolled them up, and put them on the chair. Next his socks, then his shirt. He then took his pants off the chair and hung them on the hook. Then he rolled his socks together in a ball. Then he unrolled them. Damn this is crazy, he thought, just get undressed and on the table. He shucked his underwear, tossed them on the chair, and got on the table face down.
He covered his butt with the towel that was lying on the table. He lied there perfectly still for several moments, until a light knock at the door was accompanied by Gina whooshing into the room in her skirt, only now she wore a more form-fitting tank top, black, which hugged her breasts deliciously, Steve noted as he peered up at her from the table. She caught his eye and he quickly put his face back in the hole in the table where it belonged.
"Ok, let's get started. Is this your first massage?"
"Yes. Other than a back rub or two from Sara in college."
"I see. Well, it is relatively easy, you just lie there and I do all the work. Please try to relax. Sound like a plan?"
"Absolutely!" He could see where this might be a good deal after all.
All comforting thoughts were erased however when suddenly the towel was removed from his backside.
"Hey," Steve protested, "Gimme that back!"
"Stevie, I cannot work with that towel in my way. Trust me, you don't want me always flipping it to one side or another, adjusting it, having to keep it from falling off. All of that is plain distracting. We can put it back on if you want, but I don't recommend it."
"Or are you just afraid I might see your butt?" She giggled at this and slapped his left cheek lightly. He felt a rush of blood to his face and, to be honest, somewhere else.
"Well, whatever you think is best, Gina. I am in your hands." This seemed the safest course, and the thought of a potential hand release had crept back into his mind.
"Ok then, shut up and relax."
Steve was more than a little uncomfortable, but oddly he felt like following Gina's directions. He was doing his wife's wishes, which would make her happy, and he wanted to help Gina out as well because she wasn't that bad, just a little overly talkative at times. And, more importantly, he wanted to have sex with his wife later on. So he did as he was told -- he shut up and tried to relax.
She started right in with his calves and heels. She had a goldilocks touch he thought -- not too soft, and certainly not painful. It seemed to be just right. He felt a warmth spread up his legs and into his abdomen as his lower body relaxed. She worked on his hamstrings for an especially long time, in silence other than uttering an "aah ha!" when she found a muscle knot to work out.
She moved expertly to his buttocks, tying her movements to sweeping motions across each cheek, up to the lower back, then down to the hip.
Man, this is awesome, Steve thought. By the time she got to his back and shoulders, Steve was putty. He was groggy in a deep state of relaxation when he realized he would soon have to turn over.
As if on cue, she finished massaging his scalp and tapped him on the shoulder and whispered "over please."
He gulped. "Can I have my towel back?"
"Stevie, c'mon don't be silly. If I see something I haven't seen before, I'll bite it, ok?"
He had never understood that saying, but he did chuckle a little. "Ok, turning over ma'am." He was really thinking the hand release could be a possibility again. He propped himself up on his left elbow, shifted his hips, and now he was on his back as Gina was getting more oil. He was settling into a comfortable position when she turned around.
"Whoa, holy cheeseburgers, batman! Look at that gut!" She poked him in the side with her index finger. "What is going on there Mr. Thomson, I bet Sara isn't happy about that one bit!"
"Actually she tells me that if I gain any more weight she is going to start shopping for me at the big man's clothing shop. I know I need to get in shape. It's mostly just beer though."
"I see," said Gina semi-sarcastically. Steve could see her taking in his entire body as she was rubbing the oil between her hands. Her eyes froze on his penis. He was still chuckling from his own joke about the beer, but he trailed off as she stared, her hands rubbing while oil dripped on his chest.
"Uhh Gina, see something you like there? " he asked, with a laugh in his voice, trying the gee-whiz approach to get her to stop staring.
She broke her gaze and looked at him. "What? Oh, well, sorry, I am just, uh, let's get started on those feet."
An uncomfortable silence followed. Gina broke it first by offering an apology. "Look Steve, I'm sorry, I was just lost in thought. I didn't mean to stare at your little guy there. Please don't think this is getting weird or anything."
Steve was stunned. Did she just say 'little guy?' What the fuck did that mean? He was turning over explanations in his head -- was it just an expression? Was she trying to be funny? What did she mean, little guy?
Minutes passed. She was working on his upper thighs. In the midst of his confusion, he noticed that he was beginning to get an erection. Holy shit! Under the circumstance that is the last thing he wanted. He started thinking about yard work, the Cubs, biting his lower lip, his 5th grade PE teacher -- anything to keep that puppy at low tide. Alas, no avail. He had truly popped a full on boner. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut; hoping that the ostrich approach would work and his condition would not be an issue.
Her hands stopped. He kept his eyes shut. She took one hand off his leg. He cracked open an eye and took a look at her. She had one hand on her mouth, staring at his hard cock. Was she going to sneeze? Then it dawned on him -- she was trying her best not to laugh.
"Shit Gina give me the goddamn towel now!" Steve hissed, as he sat up and tried to reach the towel at the foot of the table.
"Wait Stevie, just wait, ok!" She was really trying not to laugh; there was a hint of a smile on the corner of her lips. She grabbed his arms. "Look, I am completely embarrassed, this has never happened before, and I don't know what to do but I really don't want you going anywhere until I have a chance to explain myself. Please -- I don't want you to be pissed off. If you lay down I will get the towel."
Steve thought better of it but to his surprise, he found himself laying back, one hand covering his hard cock and the other poised to grab the towel. Gina put the towel in his hand, and he immediately covered his cock and made a tent with the towel. He looked down, and then looked at Gina, the both looked at his tent, and they both burst out laughing. It did look hilarious, the towel tented up like that. They laughed for a while, both of their faces red, before Gina again broke the spell.
"Stevie, please listen. I have to tell you something. And I don't want you to get upset ok? I think I have to get this off of my chest."
"I'm listening," he said. But he did not like the sound of this.
"You know I am your friend and I totally love how you treat Sara. She is my best friend and I have known her since before you met her, back when she was a freshman in college. She and I have shared a lot of history. She tells me wonderful, sweet things about how you take care of her, treat her like a queen, and make her feel good."
"Yes I know, what does this have to do with what just happened?" Steve asked. He was still thinking about the "little guy" comment.
"Well, uh...god this is hard. Ok, I am just going to say it. When you and Sara started dating back in school, she told me that she was having a hard time deciding between you and Danny. I think you know that." Steve nodded. "Well, she told me back then that you had, uh, well, a small dick." She said this in a soft voice that was trailing off. Looking for his response. "Go on," he said, even though he was very much hurt by what she had said. After some pause, she resumed. "Well, as you may know, Danny had a very large cock and knew very much how to use it. At least that is what Sara said."
Steve felt more hurt inside, which he interpreted as anger. His heart was pounding.
"So she and I would talk about it and of course, there are so many other things besides sex that are important, and Sara and I spoke of those things. As you know, in the end she chose you and I think that it was the right choice then, and now, especially after Danny flunked out. She values much more than just your dick Steve. I mean, sex is important, especially when a guy can make a woman come with his cock inside of her, but it's not everything. You know, using your mouth is also very nice and it can really be super intimate sometimes, and I know Sara says you do this for her a lot..." She was beginning to ramble, realized it, and shut up.
"So -- why, why are you telling me this?" Steve asked.
"I guess to explain why I acted the way I did," she explained. "I mean, I saw it when you rolled over and it was really small, but I figured it was because you were laying on it and it was, you know, like compressed or something." She made the universal "tiny dick" sign, her finger and thumb compressing to an inch or two.
"But then when you got -- excited -- I saw that even hard it was so small, it just struck me as funny. Sticking straight up in the air all serious but so short. God I am so sorry Stevie, I didn't mean to hurt you."
"So it is funny, is it? That I have a small dick? And by the way I don't think it is that small. Sara has never complained."
"I guess after the initial shock it isn't funny. In fact, I kind of feel sorry for you on one hand, but on the other I think it is really amazing how small it is. I have never seen one so small and I don't think I could imagine having that inside of me -- if I could, you know -- even feel it. No offense. Know what I mean?
I am also wondering how Sara could deal with this for all these years. And Stevie, I hate to break it to you, but Sara has, from time to time, during drunk girl talk, referred to her need for...um...feeling full during sex. Now I understand why she got that dildo. She told me you know about the dildo. You do, right?"