Some of you might remember my short cameo ‘Damned if... ‘ - about my other half’s niece who came to stay.
Cranky after a miserable car journey my ‘Good ~ Lady’ suggested that I ‘looked after’ her by giving her one of my ‘Famous’ well that’s according to my Lady, massages.
Massage my foot!! I’m not sure who put who up to what but we/she ended up screwing the bejesus out of each other. Now please don’t get me wrong - I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy it, but it’s a subject that’s never been raised in the Sven household. Other than my Lady jumping my bones that night! Something that she never does when we have guests staying. Discretion - mine means I’ve never alluded to that day nor, as I want to retain the full-working use of my ‘dangly bits’ am I ever likely to.
Except ... well, we went to stay with her - the journey’s only half a day, but does involve some roads where the drivers seem to park their brains elsewhere so there can be hold-ups. Inevitably the day we travelled there were plenty of those. With the result that it was my turn to be stiff, achy and cranky - very cranky.
Sam suggested that she might give me a ‘rub-down’ with an ‘oily rag’ as it were - whereupon my other half immediately announced she needed some fresh air and exercise and would take the dog for a walk.
This time, the feeling of being ‘stitched’ was more than just the elephant in the room, but I decided not to resist and agreed. Trouble there may be, but actually, I just decided to give in gracefully.
So Pat went out with the dog and left Sam and me alone together in the house. ‘Come on then Sven,’ and Pat led me off to her studio. Then it was my turn to be surprised.
Sam now had a full-size, proper Massage couch. She laughed, “Love the look on your face,” she said. “ I so enjoyed the massage part of what we got up to, that I’ve taken it up as a business, didn’t Pat tell you?”
I could only shake my head no, as she went on, “all off, Towel over there if you want it, and I’ll be back shortly. She switched on both low music and her oil warmer as she went out.
So I stripped - hesitated for a second then mentally shrugged and got naked. I laid out face down and to give Sam the choice, draped a towel over my butt. The door clicked shut as Sam came back in - and as the room was comfortably warm removed the Towel.
“I know you’re not cold, and you forget I know you’re not bashful either!” Was all that was said.
Then she started her treatment and boy, was she good. She went to work on all the knots and bumps and worked her way all the way down from the top to the bottom of my feet - it was, by any professional standards very good. Yes, she brushed my balls a couple of times, but it almost seemed by accident rather than design, so although I was flaccid I was by no means erect either so that when the time came to turn over it wasn’t a worry that either of us would be embarrassed at what might be displayed.
Now bear in mind that when Sam had come into the room I was face down with my face in the suitably shaped hole so I hadn’t seen what she was wearing other than it didn’t seem to be trousers. As I faced away from her and turned over I found out that she was once again, like me, naked.
At that stage, my transition from semi-flaccid to steel-hard took about the same time as it took me to mutter ‘Fuck-me!’ The fact that Sam muttered back, ‘Very probably.’ - hastened the process. An Oily hand wrapped around my, by now, angry red, flashing cock, completed the process.