The Day Spa

I am a raging heterosexual. Or should I say, I thought I was. I have been a walking bundle of hormones looking to fuck women all my life. And I have been pretty successful at it. I have been married for the past 20 years to a woman that is hot and pretty open minded, letting me express most of my kinks. She isn't one of the wive's that views sex as an obligation and more often than not, the one initiating the action.

But I won't lie, I have had some side action on and off again for most of my marriage. Not that I am unhappy, but I am just the kind of guy that can't get enough pussy. Or if I am lucky, ass.

My wife, Jenna, is your typical athletic 50 year old woman. She is 5' 9" with dark hair that is usually pulled back in a ponytail. She has a lean runner's body with an age-defying tight ass (on my birthday and Christmas she will generously give me her perfect ass as a treat). For her 40th birthday she gave herself a boob job and entered her 40s with a perfect 36C rack. Most of our teenage friends hang out at our house way too often, since Jenna is a certifiable MILF.

But isn't just the kids that like her, my golf buddies are always pushing things a little too far with their comments on what they would do with her if they were married to her. Usually it starts as an offhand comment, but then it progresses into them getting a little too graphic with their fantasies.

Having the hottest wife in your social circle is both a blessing and a curse.

I also have a pretty athletic body, but due to a knee injury, I am not quite as fit as my wife. But I am still better than most 55 year olds! I am 6' 1" with a 5-pack and weigh 175 pounds. While I know I am lucky to have a wife like Jenna, my ease of getting some pussy on the side reassures me that I still have it.

All in all, I have it pretty good.

A few weeks ago my wife decided she was going to book us a spa day at a local 5 star resort. She thought it would be fun to get a massage, facial, manicure, and pedicure. I reluctantly agreed, but can't deny the thought of a young hot woman rubbing my body wasn't a terrible idea. But the rest of it, I could do without.

I told my wife to save the money and just get me the massage. I would hang out at the pool and watch a game while she got pampered on. With an approving nod, she picked up the phone and called the spa.

A few minutes later she came into the den and told me we were all set for the next weekend. She booked herself a 60 minute Swedish massage and a 90 minute deep tissue massage for me. She had Tonya and I had Teri. I quietly was hoping that Teri was the hotter of the two.

The week came and went and I didn't give our spa day a second thought. I was more excited for my golf game on Sunday. I had been hitting the driving range on the way from work and was really stripping the ball. I was going to clean up on my hack buddies.

When we arrived at the spa Jenna was led to the left which was the women's side and I was herded to the right. I was given a locker and told to remove as much clothes and I was comfortable and to wait for Teri in the men's lounge. There was an ultra luxurious robe waiting for me in my locker. I quickly stripped naked and slid into the robe. I told myself just in case there was a chance for a happy ending, I was going to be prepared.

As I laid back in the leather recliner, I looked around the lounge. There were a couple of other guys donning their robes. Some had that disheveled look of contentment that signaled they had had their massage. Others were just chilling waiting to be called back for their massage. Based on the price of the spa, most of the guys were in their mid 40s and above. They all seemed pretty fit so I was wondering if any of them were going to get a special massage like I was certainly going to.

A few moments later my name was called by Teri. Unfortunately Teri wasn't a Teri, but rather a Terry. This Terry appeared to be in his 30s, rugged Nordic looks, and a body that indicated he may have been an Olymian at one point or another.

I had a moment of panic, wondering how I could flee. I was not wanting this Thor look alike to be rubbing my naked body for the next 90 minutes. But the massage was paid for and with an inaudible sigh, I raised my hand and said "Right here".

Terry led me back to my room and instructed me to remove my robe and get under the sheet laid across the massage table. As he closed the door behind him, I had one last thought of escaping. Maybe telling him I ate some bad Chipotle and wasn't up for a massage.

But my frugality won out and I hung my robe on the back of the door and slide under the sheet face down naked. A few moments later Terry returned and reminded me I signed up for a deep tissue massage. I mumbled an affirmative and as I heard him oil his hands, every muscle in my body contracted with fear.

I had never had a man's hands caress my body. I was Gen X so I certainly didn't have a dad that expressed affection. Hell, he barely acknowledged my existence, much less gave me a hug. A moment later, his well lubricated hands started gliding over my tense body.

Within minutes all of my hesitation melted away in his strong hands. I quickly felt myself relax almost to the point of putty. His hands were magical. Any reluctance I had was now gone and I floated in and out of consciousness in pure relaxing bliss.

After a half hour of massaging my back, Terry covered me with the sheet and worked his way down to my legs. He carefully extracted one leg and tucked the sheet under me to ensure there was no chance of any surprise appearance of my cock.

As he massaged my calves his hands were no less wonderful on my legs as they were on my back. He slowly and deliberately worked his way up my leg until he was kneading my hamstring. As an ex runner, my hamstrings were wound tighter than a piano string.

I could feel Terry's muscles activating as he worked his strong fingers deep in my hamstrings. After a few moments, he commented on how tight my hamstrings were and asked if I was comfortable with him massaging the top of my legs and my lower glutes.

I knew glutes meant ass, but at this point, I was in nirvana and and homophobia I had a half hour ago was long gone. I simply grunted a "yes".

With that Terry proceeded to reposition the sheet, this time pulling it back so the lower half of my glute was now exposed. I didn't feel vulnerable at all as he started working into the flesh of my ass. It felt so good that I found myself letting out small moans of satisfaction.

They weren't sexual, but they were certainly sounds of pleasure. After five minutes he carefully pulled the sheet back to cover my leg and went to the other side and started the same treatment on my other leg.

This time he didn't ask as he hoisted the sheet high, exposing most of my ass. His hands dig in and started to do their magic. As they got higher my soft moans of pleasure became less discreet. With each squeeze of his strong hands on my ass cheek I let out a deep moan. I became aware of what I was doing, but I had long since lost control. I just felt too intensely good to care.

What seemed like a brief moment, but had to be ten minutes, Terry once again, pulled the covers back over my legs. As he instructed me to flip over, he asked if the pressure was ok. I tried to make a joke, but at this point, my command of the English language was pretty much lost. I stammered, "Your hands make me good".

With a chuckle, Terry pulled the sheet down my chest and tucked it in just above my pubic bone. He started working across my chest from side to side. Soon I became aware that as he leaned over me, his cock was brushing against my hand. I instantly became aware of the contact. My mind started racing. Was he aware? Was it intentional or just accidental contact?

As my focus became fixated on the brushing of his cock against my hand I began to concentrate on it. I could feel his big mushroom crown, so I knew he was circumcised. With each lean i was able to feel the length of his cock and quickly determined that his thick muscled body extended to his cock. I am comfortable with my 7 inches but I could tell he was at least that and THICK.

The last thing I could tell before he finished my chest massage was that he was definitely not wearing any underwear.

As Terry pulled the sheet to cover my chest.

"Are you doing all right? You don't seem to be enjoying the massage as much as you were before? Is the pressure still ok?" Terry asked.

"Sorry, yes, it feels fantastic." I assured him. I didn't dare ask him what I was really thinking:

"Hey Terry, massage is great, are you rubbing that tree trunk of a cock on my hand on purpose?"

Convinced everything was ok, Terry moved down to my leg and as usual pulled the sheet up, carefully tucking it in so my cock was not exposed. His hands were absolutely wonderful on my feet and with the same deliberation as he did on my calves and hamstrings, worked his way up my legs.

However, this time, my brain was not filled with an emptiness of relaxation, but rather thoughts of what his cock looked like naked. I found myself wanting to reach out and grab it. Nothing sexual (so I told myself) but just to satisfy a curiosity.

His hands made their way to my thighs and he was digging his thumbs into the muscles. But my mind was so consumed with thoughts of his cock, that I was totally unaware that my own cock was starting to come to the party. When my brain finally snapped back to the situation, I realized that my cock was completely hard. While the sheet obviously covered the direct sight of what was going on, there was no hiding my erection.

My mind was racing, I didn't know what to do. I squeezed my eyes afraid to look at Terry.

"Relax, this happens more than you realize." came the calming words from Terry.

"It doesn't bother me at all, so it shouldn't bother you either. In fact, in a strange way, it is kind of a compliment. I am happy to know I am able to make you feel good"

And with that he went back to work as if nothing was different.

"Thanks. I am so embarrassed." I muttered.

Terry let his hands reassure me as he started working on the other leg.

After a few minutes my erection subsided. Terry cock hadn't grazed against my hand again. And before I knew it, he quietly informed me the massage was over and he would be waiting outside the door with water for me.

As I put myself together I couldn't stop wondering what the hell just happened.

Was he purposely rubbing his cock against me? Was I actually turned on? Did I want his cock? Did I want him to pull the sheet back completely and take my cock in his mouth?

Was I disappointed or relieved nothing more happened?

I grappled with these questions, not sure of the answers.

As promised Terry was waiting for me with a glass of water.

"Here, drink this. You will want to stay hydrated today so have a few of these before you leave."

"Thanks Terry. And again, I am really sorry about what happened there. I am not gay you know". I clumsily said, instantly regretting it. Why did I say anything? I should have just said thanks and moved on. And what was with declaring I am not gay?

I didn't say another word as he led me back to the lounge and said good day.

When I got back to the lounge I retreated to my locker to check my phone, I had a message from Jenna that she expected to be a couple of hours and we would meet in the restaurant for a cocktail after she was done. When I saw her text, all I could focus on was the COCK in cocktail.

What had Terry done to me? Did he turn me gay in 90 minutes? I couldn't get the feeling of that big mushroom of his cock brushing against my hand. In my mind I was imagining all sorts of scenarios.

What if I turned my hand outward and rubbed him back? Or better yet, what if I slide my hand past the elastic of his pants and grabbed it? Or what if when he got to my head he pulled his pants down and fed his cock into my eagerly waiting mouth? Or... my mind was spinning to more and more lurid thoughts until I had him bending me over his massage table and ramming his cock in my tight ass until his cum was leaking out my gaped ass and down my thigh and I was sucking him clean.

I told you my mind was spiraling in a sea of debauchery.

I snapped myself back to reality and decided I might as well enjoy the amenities. After all, this was a 5-star spa.

I grabbed a towel from the attendant and wrapped it around my waist under my robe and headed to see what I could do.

"Ahh, a steam room followed by a sauna sounds good. Then maybe relax in the hot tub" I thought to myself.

I hung my robe on the hook outside the steam room noting there was another robe already hanging. No biggie, the room looked pretty big. There would be no awkward sitting to close to a strange guy to worry about. Especially in my current state of mental cock obsession.

I gave my towel a double check to make sure it was secure and headed in. The steam was so thick you could barely see at most two or three feet. In the dense steam, I was unable to see the other guest which was just as well. I made myself comfortable on the close side. As I breathed in the steam my body began to relax again. Deep breaths of the eucalyptus scented thick air filling my lungs was just what I needed. Thoughts of Terry and "what could have been's" evaporated from my mind, just as the steam was I noticed.

I had been in the room for just a few minutes and the visibility went from near zero to I could now see across the room. I was able to make out a figure, not very clearly, but clear enough to notice, unlike me, he did not have a towel wrapped around his waist.

No, my partner in steam was stark naked, leaning back against the wall with his legs stretched about as wide open as they could be. I could very faintly see, if I strained my eyes hard enough, the shape of a fairly well endowed cock. I am not huge, but I am not small either. I am about 7 inches when I am hard. Unfortunately, unlike my mate, I am a grower, not a shower.

As I said, I could make out the shape of his cock if I strained my eyes, which is exactly what I was doing and my camouflage of steam concealing my gawking was disappearing, leaving me staring at his cock with the most obvious interest.

As soon as I saw him catch me, I quickly looked away, trying unsuccessfully to seem nonchalant. I looked up, then to the side, anywhere but at him. After a few moments I couldn't help myself and succumbed to an uncontrollable glance back at him. Now the steam was almost gone and I could tell that his cock had to be at least 6 inches in its soft state.

This time rather than a full out stare, I just stole glimpses. My mind began to race with these desires awakened by Terry just 20 minutes ago. I began to fantasize about what his cock would look like hard. As I envisioned his cock hardening, so did mine. I started to panic as an erection would not be discreet since I was clad only in a towel.

Hiiiiiiiisssssssss.

As if by divine intervention a fresh dose of steam quickly blanketing the room, concealing my hard-on and everything else in the room.

"Whew, I escaped another inopportune erection incident" I whispered to myself. I took this as a sign to evacuate the steam room.

The sauna was conveniently located right next to the steam room. It was close, but there was still a wall between me and the naked guy. As I settled into the dry heat, I realized I didn't even know what he looked like since my gaze was fixated on that beautiful cock.

"Wait, did I just put another man's cock on a pedestal?" I asked myself. What was happening.

Before I had a chance to continue my inner dialogue the door opened, and my steam buddy walked in. The shocking thing, he hadn't even bothered to wrap his towel around himself to show any sense of modesty or discretion. Instead, it was casually draped over his shoulder.

He walked to about six feet from me, and laid the towel down, and sat in the same legs spread wide pose as before. This time I forced myself to look at the rest of him and not just zero in on that delicious cock.

"Damn, I can't even think about his cock without placing some superlatives in front of it" as I resumed my inner conversation with myself.

He was probably in his mid-forties, muscular without looking like a roid addict, dark hair with a little spattering of gray kicking in, and Paul Newman blue eyes. And yes, a big, mouth-watering cock proudly displayed.

"Hey, I am Paul, what do you think of this place? I never would have come here, but we are staying at the resort and my wife dragged me along", he said in a voice that indicated he could have done voice-overs professionally. It was masculine but warm and inviting. It made me feel as if he was one of my regular golf buddies instantly.

"Oh yea, me too. I live here in Newport, but my wife has always wanted to come here. I would have just as well hung out at the bar and had a few beers and watched a game. But she wanted us to both get massages, so here I am." I countered.

"I hear ya. A nice cold one sounds pretty damn good right about now. Especially with how hot it is in here", Paul chuckled.

It was amazing, here he was with his legs splayed and a monster cock practically daring me to grab it, and Paul was able to have a normal conversation as if we were at the sports bar eating wings and pounding some Hienekens.

"So who is your team? I am a Giants fan. Not the best year for us", Paul asked.

"Ha, try being a Lions fan. Hasn't been the half century for us!" I laughed.

The whole time I was talking with him, I kept stealing glimpses of his cock. Somehow I was able to carry on a normal conversation outwardly, while inwardly my lust was filling my brain with a myriad of naughty notions.

After about ten minutes of back and forth conversation, Paul suggested we head back to the steam room. I reluctantly agreed, disappointed his wonderful cock would be hid under the cloak of the steam.

As we walked back to the steam room, just as he had done before, Paul just tossed his towel over his shoulder and walked as nonchalantly as he could into the steam room. This time however, rather than sitting all the way across the room, he plopped down just a few feet away.

The steam was thick, but we could still make out each other figures. Barely.

We resumed our conversation, though now we had progressed to our favorite vacation spots. Paul was a CFO for a big tech company and had the money and time to travel. It was also a luxury that Jenna and I were fortunate to enjoy as well.

"We did this amazing river cruise last spring that started in Amsterdam, " I started,

"Oh, we love Amsterdam," Paul said as he stood.

"Yea it is great. Last time," My sentence was broken off as Paul leaned into me and undid my towel which was still tightly cinched.

As my towel fell open exposing my cock, Paul asked, "I hope this is ok?"

And before I could answer, leaned forward and took my cock into his hand and guided it into his warm mouth. I instantly grew completely hard in his mouth as I felt his tongue swirling around my head as he began to swallow me.

"Fuck yes", I almost screamed, "but I have to be honest, I have never done this before".

"It is ok, if at any point you feel uncomfortable or want to stop, just tell me. It is ok", Paul said reassuringly.

I just moaned as his my cock slide down his throat. He certainly knew what he was doing as i felt his nose pressing against my stomach letting me know he had completely swallowed all seven inches of my throbbing cock. I had never been deep throated before. Jenna was only ably to get about two-thirds before she gagged. But he was this handsome stranger gobbling every inch of me as he introduced me to man love.

It was incredible. Better than any blow job I had ever experienced.