My Masseuse Was Becoming My FWB Pre-COVID

Scroll down to “Things Heat Up” for a shorter experience, or see TL;DR at the end. If there’s enough positive reaction, I’ll write Part 2. This account is autobiographical.

My confessional tale begins with massage but eventually expands by the end of Part 2 to include happy endings, enthusiastic episodes of both cunnilingus and fellatio, breast worship, sexual enlightenment, and FWB discussions . . . It all starts with Pam, my masseuse.

The Backstory:

Pam is a 67 year old woman. She’s kind, direct, well read, and extremely health conscious. She’s blonde with an average figure – I’d estimate 34B breasts, a very slight belly, and a cute little ass. If you were to pass her on the street, you probably would think of her as someone’s mother or grandmother. Little would you know that, despite outward appearances, she was actually a smoldering sexual dynamo.

Until about 15 months ago, Pam worked at a higher end local massage studio near my home. She had spent most of her career in corporate finance after getting married in her mid-20’s. She and her ex-husband raised two sons.

In her mid to late 50’s, her marriage ended in divorce. Both Pam and her husband were alcoholics. Pam was able to ultimately pull out of her spiral after multiple stints in rehab. Thankfully, her sons were grown. However, the corporate career she had worked so hard for was gone. She fell back to one of her personal interests – health and wellness – to scratch out a living as a masseuse.

I’m in my early 60s, retired from the working rat race. I’ve stayed in relatively decent, but not great, shape through lap swimming. Approximately 3-4 years ago I started going to the upscale massage studio Pam worked at every three months or so to work the swimming knots and kinks out of my body. The first time I went, they had set my appointment up with Pam. It was a totally legitimate mainstream massage – undress to your level of comfort (nude or down to underwear), naughty bits covered with a sheet, etc., etc. It was an above average massage, (with never a hint of “anything else that might be on the menu.”). As a result, I scheduled all my future massages with Pam. You know the routine, it’s good enough so you schedule with the same person because you don’t want to risk a bad experience with someone new.

Then, about a year and a half ago, Pam gave me a card with her contact information at the end of my massage. She said that she would be leaving the studio and performing massages at her home for a rate somewhat lower than what I had been paying. I promised to setup an appointment with her in a few months.

Things Heat Up:

I pulled up to Pam’s house and parked behind her Nissan compact in the driveway. Her home was modest but well maintained. Nothing special. I rang the doorbell and she quickly opened the door. She greeted me with a big smile and a generous hug. “I’m so glad to see you! Welcome to my home!”

She ushered me down the hallway to her home studio. Now, at the old location she would let me in the room and then excuse herself while I undressed and got under the massage table sheet. Today, she stayed in the room conversing while getting the oils ready, lighting candles, etc. and told me to get comfortable. I figured I’d go with it and stripped down and climbed onto the massage table. She said, “You don’t need the sheet, do you?” I replied, “I’m fine without it if you are.” She continued, “Super! I was frustrated at the studio because they required it. Without it, It’s much less antiseptic and makes for a more intimate experience.”

As you might expect, I was taken aback. However, I’m here to get my “regular” massage, so we begin. First off, I noticed she’s adding in that grazing touch with her fingernails at the end of each stroke. Then she commented, “You’re really getting into great shape! I can tell!” Next, she commented on my tan (I swim during the day outside while wearing those minimalist type “Speedo” briefs). “The tan lines on your ass are really cute!”

I’m getting the vibe we’re now headed into uncharted territory. Her conversations at the old location were perfunctory and casual. Today, she is, shall we say, more forward.

“OK, can you turn over for me please?”

Upon arrival, I had turned my back to her when taking my pants and underwear off before immediately climbing onto the massage table. She hadn’t seen my cock prior to now. I roll over.

“Ooohhh! You shave your balls! I love a man with shaved balls!”

My wife had long ago asked me to shave since she didn’t like getting random pubes in her mouth when giving me blowjobs. I didn’t mind, especially since I’m swimming in those tiny Speedo briefs. It was so ingrained into my grooming routine, I’d never given it a second thought.

I told her, “I simply do a little housekeeping once or twice a months. My wife likes it.”

“Well, I think it looks really hot on you.” . . . I thought to myself, “Toto, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore!”

“Why, thank you Pam.” My late mother had always taught me to be gracious when someone pays you a compliment. I surprised myself by keeping my cool and not sputtering some senseless reply.

She stepped away to get some more massage oil. When she returned, she placed her hand on my knee and spoke, “I hope you don’t think this is too forward, but I always liked the vibe I got from you at the studio. You’re very easygoing and non-demanding. I would get all kinds of lewd requests from certain clients. But, never from you. With leaving the studio, I knew I’d take an income hit by being selective in who I invited into my home. But, I can’t put a price on my personal safety. I decided to pick a few clients and cross my fingers they’d be willing to come here. Being in my own home gives me a lot more flexibility in meeting my client’s needs. Now would you like to finally release what’s left of all that tension still left inside?”

“I like where I think you’re heading,” I managed to mumble.

“I’ll give you a little something to stimulate your interest in the meantime,” she replied as she pulled out of the black yoga top she’d been wearing. Her breasts tumbled out as she leaned over my head massaging my chest. I reached up and begin lightly pinching her nipples. I then cupped one breast in my left hand as I gently began to suck her nipple. She let out a low moan.

She moved to my right and I switched my attention to the right breast. More vigorous sucking and more moaning. I shifted my weight to my right and took my left hand and began massaging her pussy over the black yoga pants she was wearing. We were now in a full fledged mutual massage. I attempted to pull her yoga pants down, but she stopped me with her soft voice, “No . . . This is all about your pleasure, not mine. Just sit back and enjoy.” So I did as I was told.

I moved back down as she now moved to my left. She pulled up a chair and sat next to the massage table. My cock was by now fully erect. It lightly throbbed as she applied the massage oil. I closed my eyes as Pam began to rhythmically stroke my cock.

There was no going back now. After several minutes, I could feel my orgasm beginning to build. I closed my eyes reveling in the pleasure she was giving me. I then felt a new sensation in addition to her right hand pumping my cock. I sensed an increased warmth with more pressure in my groin.

I pulled myself up on my elbows, opened my eyes to the sight of Pam sucking on my balls as she continued to stroke. All I could muster was, “Fuck” as I let my head roll toward my back. After 5-10 more seconds I pulled my head back up and we locked on one another’s eyes. She stopped sucking on my balls and said, “Are you going to cum for me now baby?”

“Fuck yes! . . . Here it comes Pam!” The sight of her vigorously stroking me while sucking my balls sent me over the edge. My head rolled back again as I begin spasming. I could feel at least four jets of cum erupt all over my stomach. My guttural cry filled the room. She gently milked the final drops out of my cock with her fingers as my breath began to slow down. “You came so nice and hard,” she said.

As I cleaned myself with the hand towel she’d given me, I remarked, “I didn’t expect to look up and see your lips around my balls. That was so fucking hot! I haven’t come that hard in years.”

I slipped her the payment (as I said less than at the studio! a helluva bargain! ?), and got dressed. We talked freely about how she was doing with her new business model, and her ongoing home improvement projects. She walked me to the front door and gave me warm hug before I turned to leave. “Give me a call when you’re ready for your next massage.”

“Of course! I can’t wait!,” I replied thinking to myself – I’ll probably be ready for another one later this week. With a quick wave from her lawn, I was in the car and on my way.

I’d never had a woman absolutely drain my balls with the intensity Pam had just done. I was still tingling in my extremities from the massive climax. I now had lots to think about before I saw Pam again. The story had just begun . . .

TL; DR. I had regular legitimate massages at a studio with the same masseuse for years. My masseuse left the studio to work out of her home. My first appointment leads to mutual touch, breast worship, ball sucking, and a volcanic happy ending.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/hnrc5v/my_masseuse_was_becoming_my_fwb_precovid