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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
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type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
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The Massage
by Conrad (chocaholicus@hotmail.com)
***
A couple visit a new friend and learn about group
massage. Based on an actual event, with only the names
changed. (M+/F, voy, oral, anal, orgy, rom)
***
"Stop fidgeting," Conrad said. "You look beautiful."
Rebecca tucked a strand of hair into her French twist
for the umpteenth time as she said, "You are sweet to
say so, my love, but I fear that our host will find me
too plain." "Nonsense," he replied. "You are the most
stunningly beautiful woman ever to grace his house."
"And you've been there so often?" she teased. "You know
I haven't," said Conrad. "But I don't need to know or
to have seen the other women there to still be
absolutely certain that you are the most ravishing."
"You're biased," she said.
They rode in the back seat of their host's luxurious
Maybach limousine, the fragrance of the leather seats
mingled with Rebecca's soft perfume. She was dressed in
a pale yellow silk dress and in the sunset's glow, he
could make out the outline of her breasts beneath it.
He had helped her dress and knew that she was naked
beneath the gown. She had protested - somewhat - but he
reminded her that their host had been very clear on
that point. "How many others will be there?" she asked.
"It's my understanding that you will be the only woman,
but there will be four or five of Randolph's close
friends present."
Rebecca and Conrad had been married for nearly 25 years
and were still deeply in love. He was 10 years older
than she and inordinately proud of her beauty, grace,
intelligence, and most of all, her sense of adventure.
They were both successful physicians - he a
psychiatrist, she a pediatrician - but had never had
children of their own. As a result, they were devoted
to each other and were each other's soul-mates.
They had met Randolph on a cruise to Alaska a few
months before when he had been seated at their table
for dinner. They learned that he was the scion of a
wealthy family from Maryland. He had been widowed about
a decade before and had not, it seemed, found anyone to
replace his beloved Abigail. He was cultured, literate,
well-traveled - and thoroughly charming. At around 60
(they guessed), he was still handsome and fit, although
his hair had become mostly silver.
He dressed immaculately and proved to be a superb
dancer, as he demonstrated by taking Rebecca to the
floor as the ship's orchestra played a series of
waltzes, foxtrots, and tangos. They dined together at
every meal thereafter on the cruise and found that they
shared similar interests in music, art and literature.
He had charmed them both and they had exchanged
addresses and telephone numbers when the cruise ended
in Vancouver.
A couple of months went by as they resumed their
routines at their university and they were absorbed in
their work and their scholarly lives. So it had been a
bit startling when they had received an invitation to
join Randolph for dinner at his club in downtown
Baltimore. As it happened, they were both free that
evening and accepted.
The dinner was delightful - osetra caviar,
chateaubriand, baked Alaska, accompanied by Cristal
champagne and a Chateau Petrus pomerol. As the coffee
was served, Randolph cleared his throat and said, "I
find the two of you fascinating and have a sense that
under the right circumstances - that is to say, in safe
surroundings - you might be willing to shed
inhibitions. Am I right?"
They looked at each other, then at him, and Conrad
nodded. "Under the right circumstances. Emphasis on
safe surroundings and conditions." "Understood
perfectly," said Randolph. "I'd like to invite you to
my home to meet a few of my close and like-minded
friends. I can promise you an evening that will exceed
your expectations." "We'd enjoy that very much,"
Rebecca replied for both of them. "Fine," said
Randolph. "I'll send you an invitation along with some
instructions."
True to his word, an elegantly handwritten invitation
had arrived a few days later for a formal evening at
Randolph's estate on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. He
would send a limousine to pick them up and suggested
that since the drive was a bit long, they might wish to
bring a change of clothes for their return the
following day.
The attire was black-tie for Conrad, only a simple but
elegant gown for Rebecca. They had debated for a while
on what the significance of the underlined word was,
but it was Rebecca who had concluded that she was quite
sure that it meant a gown, slippers, and nothing else.
That had left Conrad a bit apprehensive, but excited,
too.
Thus they found themselves in the back seat of an
elegant sedan cruising across the Chesapeake Bay
Bridge, their overnight bag in the trunk of the car.
Conrad looked elegant in his black tie and he was
overwhelmed as always by how radiant his wife looked in
her silk gown. The knowledge that she had nothing on
beneath it aroused him, and he squeezed her hand, as
much to reassure himself as her.
Shortly they arrived at Randolph's house, an elegant
Georgian style with lovely gardens and a manicured lawn
leading down to a tributary of the bay. Their host
greeted them warmly at the door with an exchange of a
hearty handshake with Conrad and a close hug for
Rebecca. "I'm delighted that you could come this
evening. I hope you'll enjoy yourselves thoroughly.
Come and meet my other guests."
Randolph walked them into the large living room and
introduced them to two men of an age, bearing, and
elegance close to his own. Conrad looked around and was
not surprised by the fact that Rebecca was the only
woman present.
"These fellows and I have been friends since we were in
school at Exeter some years ago. Each of has done well
but we have all lost our wives along the way and none
of us has remarried. We enjoy each other's company from
time to time. You'll have to forgive us the formal
attire, but we find it helps keep us civilized," he
said, with a broad smile.
The butler appeared at that moment with a silver tray
with Champagne. When everyone had taken a glass,
Randolph raised his and offered a toast. "To old
friends and new. To good times. And to complete
discretion." "Hear, hear," the others replied.
Randolph took Rebecca on a tour of the first floor of
the house. It was decorated in understated but clearly
expensive taste and meant to show off the views of the
Chesapeake. Conrad looked down to the dock that was
barely visible in the gathering twilight. "You have a
boat?" he asked. "Yes, but at the moment it's on its
way to the Caribbean for the winter. I expect to go
down in the fall. If your schedule permits, I'd be
delighted for you to join me." "Marvelous," said
Conrad. "We love to sail."
Eventually they found themselves back in the living
room where the others were deep in conversation. "No
politics, gentlemen!" Randolph cried. "You know that's
off limits on these evenings." They all smiled, nodded,
and incorporated Rebecca and Conrad into their
discussion of careers, children, opera, theater. The
men were completely captivated by Rebecca and could
hardly take their eyes off her. Conrad understood
completely.
At 45, she was still turning heads of men half her age.
She was of medium height and fairly slender, with a
graceful neck, blonde hair with streaks of silver, and
vivid green eyes. One of the men asked her whether she
had had them colored or if she wore green contacts. Her
laugh was the one that never failed to bring a smile to
Conrad's face. "No," she said, "just the natural me."
"The natural you promises to be wondrous indeed,"
murmured one of the men. Rebecca blushed.
The dinner was marvelous. Afterwards they sat on the
veranda overlooking the bay and the talk turned to
athletic activities. Rebecca acknowledged that her
favorite sport was tennis - "at least," she said, "my
favorite clothed sport." "Do you get to play often?"
she was asked. "Once or twice a week," she replied.
"But I'm afraid right now my muscles are too sore for
me to be much of a threat."
"Ah," said Randolph. "My man Arthur is a professional
masseur. He would be delighted to work the kinks out
for you." Conrad immediately sensed a heightening of
the hitherto subdued sexual tension among them all.
"And Thomas and William have been hoping to take some
lessons from him." Thomas and William nodded
emphatically. "Would you be a willing subject? I assure
you the experience will leave you completely relaxed
and thoroughly refreshed."
Rebecca and Conrad looked at each other. Through their
expressions, each indicated to the other that they were
fairly certain they knew where this was headed. Conrad
lifted an eyebrow slightly, asking her silently if she
was willing and at the same time indicating both that
it was okay with him and that he would be there to make
sure that nothing happened she didn't want to have
happen. Randolph had been looking from one to the other
and thought that he was reading the silent
communication between them correctly.
"I have a room that will serve very well upstairs," he
said. "May I show you the way?" Rebecca rose and took
his hand. "Give us a few minutes, gentlemen. Then you
may join us upstairs."
"Randolph is such a thoughtful host, don't you think?"
William asked Conrad. Conrad, his mouth dry, could only
nod in agreement.
Randolph led Rebecca upstairs to a large room that was
sparsely furnished. There were a bar and several
stools. A large mirror filled one wall, and a
comfortable looking couch occupied another wall. In the
center of the room stood a substantial-looking massage
table, already covered with linen. On another wall were
floor to ceiling windows that, in daylight, would
afford a wonderful view of the bay and the marsh.
"I assume I am to be nude for this massage," said
Rebecca. "As you wish, my dear," replied Randolph, "but
I assure you that whatever you choose, Arthur's touch
is magical. Are there any particular areas you'd like
him to concentrate on?" "The usual ones, I suppose,"
she said. "My neck and shoulders always get tense from
work, and my thighs and butt from playing tennis."
"I'll let him know," said Randolph.
At that moment they were joined by the other men, led
up the stairs by William. "Conrad," said Randolph,
"would you like to assist Rebecca while I make sure
everyone is comfortable? And I'll let Arthur know that
it's time for him to demonstrate his remarkable
skills."
Conrad went over to his wife who was standing by the
massage table. "I love you," he whispered. "I love you,
too," she replied. "Are you sure you're okay with
this?" "Perfectly," he said. "I'll be right here and
anytime you're ready for me to ring down the curtain,
you have only to say so."
Randolph returned at that moment and overheard the last
exchange. "That is definitely the case, my dear," he
said. "All you need to do to have anything that's
happening to stop is to hold up your hand with your
fingers crossed." She nodded, and then nodded again at
Conrad. "I'm ready," she said.
He turned her around so that she faced away from the
seated men, then reached down to the hem of her dress
and lifted it up and over her head. Randolph had a
hangar waiting for it. There was a sharp intake of
breath as the men saw - from behind, at least - her
flawless body and long shapely legs.
Conrad then helped her up onto the massage table. As he
did so, he noticed that it was an unusual table. The
top part of it was normal, with a headrest, but the
lower half was divided down the center and the legs
were inserted into rollers on a track that was
semicircular.
"Is the room temperature okay for you, Rebecca?" asked
Randolph. "It seems a bit cool," she replied. "Very
well, I'll make it a bit warmer. You can't enjoy a
massage if you're chilly."
At that moment, Arthur appeared. He was a tall,
handsome older black man with a runner's build. His
dark skin glistened in the dimmed lights of the room as
he was clad in only a loincloth held in place by an
elastic belt around his back. His buttocks were bare.
Lying face down on the massage table, Rebecca was
unaware of this, but Conrad certainly was and he was
certain that she would become aware of it as well in
due course.
In his deep Caribbean-tinged baritone, Arthur
introduced himself to her and asked if there were any
particular areas that he should avoid or any medical
conditions he needed to know about. She shook her head
no. "If at any time I'm doing anything that makes you
uncomfortable," he said, " you know how to let me know.
Right?" "Right," she said in a husky voice.
The room had warmed up noticeably and Randolph took off
his tuxedo jacket and his tie and nodded to his guests
that they were free to do the same. They all followed
his lead. Randolph then dimmed the lights in the
periphery of the room, but left the lights over the
massage table somewhat brighter. The jasmine-scented
candles (her favorite fragrance, Conrad noted - how had
Randolph known that?) added an additional warm touch to
the room and the soft sounds of Kitaro filled the room
from unseen speakers.
No words were spoken as they all watched Arthur begin
to work his magic on Rebecca's nude body. He began by
standing at the head of the table and placing his large
hands simply placed on her shoulders and her back. He
kept them there for several moments before moving to
her waist, then leaning far over her to place them on
her buttocks.
As he leaned over her, his groin was pressed against
the top of her head and she could feel - or thought she
could feel - his semi-hardness pressed against her.
Whether she did or not, there was no doubt at all that
she was aware of his masculine scent. She had always
found fragrance to be either very stimulating if it was
the right kind, or extremely off-putting if it was a
sour, unwashed smell. Arthur's scent was clean but
definitely masculine, and she responded as she always
did - by getting wet. She hoped no one was able to
notice that - at least not yet.
Having warmed her skin and gotten her used to his
touch, Arthur then got his oil, which he kept in
pockets around the side of the table, always within
easy reach. He began slowly working on her neck and her
shoulders, eliciting groans of pleasure from her. "Too
deep?" he asked. "No, not at all. It feels wonderful,"
came the reply. As he continued his ministrations, she
sank into a kind of trance in which she was aware of
only the two of them in the room.
The others, however, were keenly aware of what was
taking place before them - the tall, athletic black man
and the beautiful nude woman who was the subject of his
efforts. The room seemed to become warmer, and Randolph
carefully and quietly removed his tuxedo shirt, nodding
to the others that it was okay to do the same. They
quietly did so and shortly there were four t-shirts
that went the same way as their tux shirts. Conrad
glanced sideways at his companions and saw that
although the youngest of them must be at least in his
mid-40s, they were all in excellent shape.
By now Arthur had satisfied himself that the kinks in
Rebecca's neck were mostly gone, and he moved to her
shoulders, then down her arms to her hands. He sat on a
stool beside the table and rested her hand in his lap
as he worked on her forearms. It was then that she
became aware that he had on only a loincloth. The
others could easily see that her hand was resting very
comfortably in his groin.
After finishing the other arm, he moved on to her feet
and her lower legs and then to her waist. The other men
had by now - following Randolph's lead - rid themselves
of shoes, socks, and trousers and remained clad only in
their boxers. Arthur looked up from his work at his
employer with a questioning look, and Randolph nodded.
Arthur doffed his loincloth and stood beside Rebecca
now completely nude.
Her hands were by her side, so that when he stepped
back to the table to continue his work on her waist and
sides, his semi-erect penis and large pendulous
testicles rested against her hand. The men in the room
could see this clearly and wondered how she would
react. Conrad knew already, though, and then smiled to
himself as she did what he knew she would - she didn't
move her hand away and, in fact, gently cradled his
balls in her palm.
He then turned his attention to her gorgeous buttocks -
her finest feature, Conrad often thought - and began
kneading them with a circular motion, reaching down to
the crease formed by her butt and the top of her
thighs. As his hands moved outward from that point, her
tight pink anus was exposed to the view of the men at
the foot of the table. She was keenly aware of being
exposed in this manner, but rather than being
embarrassed, she relaxed and enjoyed the sensation -
and the increased wetness she could feel forming in her
vagina.
By now all the men in the room were as naked as Rebecca
was and in various states of visible arousal. After
Arthur had ministered to her buttocks in this manner
for a time, Randolph went over and murmured something
in Conrad' ear. Conrad thought for a moment or two,
then nodded. He left his barstool and walked up to the
side of the table opposite Arthur.
Arthur looked up at him and raised his eyebrows in an
unspoken question. Conrad nodded, then placed his hands
on his wife's ass and spread her cheeks, exposing her
delicate anus completely. Arthur took some lubricant
from another container and began circling her anus with
his index finger. Rebecca was unable to keep her hips
still, and she began moving them back and forth, almost
reflexively. Arthur's large index finger now slipped in
to the first, then the second knuckle, then all the
way. Although no one could see what motion his finger
was engaged in while buried in her, the effect was
noticeable and she pushed her buttocks back pressing
against his hand.
Conrad kept her buttocks spread wide apart as Arthur
slowly withdrew his finger, provoking a whimper from
Rebecca. He then applied more lube and began again,
this time with his larger middle finger. When he had
withdrawn it, he carefully and gently inserted both his
index and middle fingers all the way to the hilt. He
looked up at Conrad and smiled appreciatively, his
white teeth showing plainly in his dark face.
Now Conrad was to learn exactly what the massage
table's special features were - or at least some of
them. As Arthur withdrew his fingers for the last time
and took a moment to wash his hands, Randolph pointed a
device that looked for all the world like a remote
controller for a television. As he pressed a button,
the two halves of the lower portion of the table slowly
moved apart, spreading Rebecca's thighs wide and
showing her swollen labia to her admiring audience.
"I think you could rejoin us over here, Conrad," said
Randolph. Beads of sweat stood out on Conrad' forehead
as he moved back over to the bar and accepted the glass
of wine that William offered.
Arthur now moved to the V between Rebecca's legs to
begin massaging her thighs. He began at the knees and
worked his way slowly up. Unfortunately for his
audience, he was now between them and most of Rebecca
(certainly the areas of greatest interest) and they
were unable to see either what he was doing or the
effect that it had on his subject.
Randolph's remote solved that problem, illuminating
three flat-screen HD TVs on the wall to their right.
The first was from a camera located directly overhead
looking down on her and Arthur. The other two were from
cameras mounted on the sides of the table and looking
directly at their junction. All three could be zoomed
in for much closer views, and the HD produced a sharp
and vivid image.
The men were therefore treated to the sight of Arthur's
large hands working their way up Rebecca's thighs on
one screen and of her pussy in all its wet glory on the
other two screens. Occasionally the view of one of the
leg cameras was obstructed by Arthur's large semi-erect
cock as he leaned forward in his massage. Conrad
noticed that the others' gaze was riveted to the screen
that displayed the close-up of his wife's beautiful
pussy. He could certainly relate to that!
"It occurs to me, gentlemen, that the scent of the
candles may be obscuring a much more sensuous
fragrance," observed Randolph. "With your concurrence,
I'm going to put the candles out so that we can all
appreciate what is being offered. I expect Conrad will
agree that it is a truly memorable and very stimulating
perfume." "From long and cherished experience,
Randolph," said Conrad, "I can tell you that there is
none more desirable." If Rebecca heard any of this
conversation, she did not respond as though she had.
All her senses seemed to be focused on the large hands
working over her lower body.
"William, you and Thomas wanted some pointers from
Arthur about the finer points of massage," said
Randolph. "Perhaps you should join him on either side
of Rebecca and allow him to provide some instruction.
And Conrad, you and I could provide whatever assistance
they require." The four men moved up to places beside
Rebecca, all of them now either partially or fully
erect.
Arthur began showing them the special techniques
required for working the muscles of the shoulder
blades. Since he hadn't changed positions, this brought
his hard cock into direct contact with Rebecca's wet
labia. She pushed herself backward a bit to enhance the
contact, but Arthur's actions suggested that he was not
about to penetrate her.
Rebecca lay their now with ten hands touching,
kneading, massaging, and caressing every surface of her
back and sides. Conrad heard her whimper and knew what
she needed. Moving Arthur's cock slightly to one side,
he slid his finger down onto her clitoris and began
massaging it. Her moans became louder and more intense
and the men were treated to a full-blown orgasm.
"May I try that?" asked Randolph. "Please," replied
Conrad. One man's finger replaced the other and resumed
the caress, producing shortly the same result. Each of
the men took turns massaging her clit or reaching
inside her to her g-spot until she was cumming
continuously, her hips moving up and down and her
buttocks alternately clenching and relaxing. "I love it
when she gets to this stage," said Conrad. "Yah, mon!"
said Arthur.
END
[This is based on an actual experience. If readers have
enjoyed the story thus far and want to know what
happened next, please email me at
chocaholicus@hotmail.com.]
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 55