“BOOK I” Natalie in Nassau
I was thirty-six this year and, although it sounds a bit arrogant, I’m looking good. My husband, Jeff, claims I look ten years younger, but he’s probably biased. Back in June, we celebrated our birthdays together during a highly charged – okay, make that highly-sexed – trip to London. Those few days turned out to be the start of an exciting new phase in our relationship brought on by our visits to an intimacy therapist, Dr. Sarah Sansome, whose work with us made us realize we could still be sexual beings despite the constraints of our young son dictating our every move. Her insistence on us sharing our deepest darkest fantasies had led to Jeff’s admission of a perverse desire to watch me with another man. At the same time, my hidden secret shocked him even more deeply – I’d often fantasized about having sex with a black guy.
It had been almost six months since we got back and, while the sex was still great, we were back into the daily routine of everyday life, and, apart from a couple of exciting but tentative adventures in London, neither of our wild fantasies had been fully realized – until Nassau.
Although Jeff frequently travels on business, I’m lucky enough to stay close to home with my job as the CFO of a software company. Unfortunately, I have one annual travel obligation, helping host a software user group conference for my company. Luckily, I wasn’t in marketing, like my best friend Tina, so my participation was limited. It was more that our CEO wanted all the C-Team to be seen at the big receptions to ‘show the flag,’ as he termed it. The event was scheduled for Friday through Sunday at a large resort hotel in the Bahamas, but regrettably, Jeff had to stay home because of a big merger deal he’d scheduled to close that weekend.
The big Welcome Reception was happily over by 7:00, and Tina arranged for us to sneak off for a nice dinner in the hotel’s smartest restaurant. It was Tina who’d recommended Dr. Sansome and the intimacy counseling that had already launched me cautiously on the hotwife trajectory that excited my wonderful husband so much.
That evening Tina was at her most talkative; the wine flowed freely, and as each glass led to another, Tina regaled me with the most outrageous stories of her sex life. I have to admit that her stories were even turning me on. At the end of the meal, Tina told me she’d finally had an idea for a very belated birthday gift. She told me that I should expect a knock at the door of my room later as she’d arranged a masseur from the renowned spa at the hotel. It was to be her special treat. I had never experienced a male masseur, and I had serious misgivings, as you can imagine. Still, we had always been close, so I had complete trust that the whole arrangement would be completely above-board and professional.
Precisely as Tina had promised, the knock came at 10:00 and, when I opened the door, I was confronted with the most handsome black guy I had ever laid eyes on. He had model good looks, and I guessed him to be about 25. Standing about 6’3, his chiseled upper body was clearly visible in a fitted white T-shirt that looked molded to him. The logo of the hotel spa was prominently displayed on his sculpted left pec. White running shorts showed off his muscular thighs to perfection, leaving me gaping like a moron and at a complete loss for words.
“Good evening, madam, my name is William, and I will be your masseur,” he said, sticking out his hand for a firm, professional handshake. “May I come in?”
I felt like I was melting. Was this my darkest fantasy about to be realized or just a professional masseur from the hotel spa who would be shocked by the inappropriate thoughts of a woman ten years his senior?
“Please, erm yes, come in,” I said nervously. Thinking quickly, I stammered, “I just need to finish up some outstanding business from the conference. A couple of texts, if that’s okay.”
I pulled out my phone and fired off a message to my husband.
[NAT] Need your advice. Tina arranged masseur for me. He’s just arrived at the room.
Jeff must have been sitting at home with his phone in his hand because his response was immediate.
[JEFF] What does he look like.
[NAT] A young gorgeous black hunk.
[JEFF] Then why do you need advice? That’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it? Get a selfie.
“There, I think that’s all.” I stammered to William. He probably thought I was a certifiable lunatic.
“And, erm, could we get a selfie together as a memento?”
“Of course, madam.”
That magnificent specimen of manhood casually draped his arm around my shoulder, and click – it was done.
“William, I do apologize, but I’ve remembered one more colleague I need to text before it gets too late.”
“No worries, madam.”
Without further thought, I sent the photo to Jeff.
[JEFF] Holy shit.
[NAT] What do I do, Jeff?
[JEFF] Go for it if it’s what you want. But report back after the massage. Every last detail. OVER AND OUT.
Despite my husband’s claim of wanting to see me with another man, I couldn’t help but worry that his fantasy would actually destroy him if it became a reality. How would he really react to seeing a hard black cock stretching me open and pushing deep inside my tight pussy?
I put the phone down with a nervous smile at William.
“Sorry about that. I’m ready now.”
He immediately took charge in a friendly, calming, and professional way.
Placing his gym bag on a chair, he pulled out a large, toweling sheet. Next, he pulled out an iPod and portable speakers. Gentle music permeated the room, providing an ideal soothing background. Finally, out came a bottle of expensive-looking oil.
“I will head into the bathroom to freshen up and to allow you to remove your clothes in private,” he instructed me.
“All my clothes?” I questioned nervously.
“It would certainly be the best, madam. However, you must only do what you feel comfortable with. It sometimes helps to remember that, working at the spa, nakedness is something I encounter every day in all its forms. Once you are undressed, please lay face down on the bed, then close your eyes and try to relax.”
Never having experienced a male masseur, it unnerved me to think of being naked under the strong hands of this young black hunk. Despite my reputation of being shy and reserved, I’m not that inhibited in bed with my husband, but William was a whole different ball game. I thought it over for a minute or two before justifying it to myself: I was far from home, Jeff had given the go-ahead… sort of… and my number one fantasy was an experience with a black guy. And what a specimen William was!
I removed every stitch of clothing and lay face down on the bed with my head on one side and my feet on the other. Even after a few glasses of wine, the thought of relaxing was impossible. I kept my legs clamped together, and I was a knot of anxiety, wondering what in hell’s name I was doing. Fantasy or no fantasy, was I going too far? Would I be jeopardizing my marriage?
I heard the bathroom door open and the pad of Williams’s bare feet across the floor.
I hoped it was a compliment on my slim, firm body and my willingness to get completely naked. I know I’m in great shape for my age, but this young man was at least ten years younger.
“I will start by applying massage oil to your back, madam.”
William had made no attempt to cover any part of me with a towel, so I felt the drizzle of oil between my shoulder blades. Then it continued all the way down my spine until I felt it hit the cleft of my ass and the erotic sensation as it followed gravitational pull and trickled between my legs.
“The massage will start at the shoulders and then move down,” said William, reassuringly. “If, at any time you are uncomfortable with either the pressure or with the nature of the massage, you must just let me know.”
The ‘NATURE’ of the massage! What did that mean?
I felt him get up on the bed beside me, and he started on my shoulders. All my anxiety started to melt away. He was masterful, and his touch was mainly light and relaxing. Down my back, he stroked until he reached the top of my butt. What was he intending? I felt myself tense up, but I needn’t have worried –there was nothing inappropriate. Was I disappointed?
“I will now move to your feet, madam.”
Again, I felt the movement as he got off the bed and moved to my feet. Taking my right foot in his hand, he kneaded it firmly. He placed his other hand just below my knee and lifted my leg slightly to the side. Immediately my thoughts flew to the fact that he could possibly be getting a glimpse between my legs. He continued working on the lower leg and foot. When he finished, he placed the leg carefully on the bed in its slightly angled position. He then moved on to the other foot. As he did the same maneuver with my left leg, I realized that with my legs now spread open, there was absolutely no question that he had a view of my pussy. Just the thought of it made me shudder with a combination of embarrassment and eroticism, and I felt the juices start to flow.
“Just perfect, madam,” he said again, “you are doing really well. I will now work on your thigh areas.”
Holy Jeezus, what was I doing?
Back up onto the bed, he came, and with my legs spread apart, not wide and gaping but enough to allow him access to work on the inner thighs, he perceptively moved up from the knee area to my upper thighs and butt.
“Is this okay, madam?” he inquired as he kneaded my butt cheeks.
“Fine,” I mumbled into the toweling sheet. What was this young man doing, and why was I allowing it? Somehow living a fantasy was different from just imagining it.
As he worked my glutes and upper thighs, his strong hands went almost to the top of my legs but never so much as grazed against my now moist lips, although he must have been aware of my wetness. I felt a growing disappointment again as I felt him get off the bed.
“It is time for the scalp massage, madam. I will be wiping off my hands so as not to get oil in your hair.”
I heard him cross the room to towel off his hands. Even though my eyes were closed when he came back, I could sense him standing in front of me, the warmth of his body, his closeness to my head. He started to massage the back of my neck up to the top of my head.
“Now the temples, madam.”
As he tilted my head up, I opened my eyes for the first time, and there, in front of my face, was the biggest, blackest, hardest cock I had ever seen. It stood erect and pointed right at my face. I gasped. As he massaged my temples, I couldn’t take my eyes off it. Seeing me entranced by his manhood, William’s kindly voice reassured me…
“I don’t know if she told you, madam, but your friend Tina chose the erotic massage session from the menu I provided. That involves the masseur being naked. If you are uncomfortable with that, please let me know, and we can just make it a regular massage. And, please take it as a sincere compliment that I am in the state that you see before you.”
“I think I’m fine,” I mumbled as his huge cock bobbed in front of my face.
Taking his cue from my agreement, he continued massaging my scalp and temples, then he reached over and stroked down my spine. As he did so, his gorgeous cock brushed against my face. Every neuron in my brain started firing. In milliseconds my thoughts went from being a wife and mother to a more visceral human sexual need.
Knowing precisely what his actions were inferring, I thought, ‘what the hell, wasn’t this my fantasy, after all. Jeff and I had agreed to this.’ The visceral need took over. I licked my lips and opened my mouth. On the next forward stroke down my spine, his cock slipped gently into my mouth, stretching my lips wide around its girth. As his strong hands moved slowly up and down my spine, his cock moved smoothly in and out of my mouth. Confusing thoughts went whirling through my mind. What was I thinking? Was it the wine? How could I? A happily married young mother surely shouldn’t be sucking hungrily on a magnificent black cock. But, overriding all such qualms, an undiluted animalistic need pulsed through my entire being. Once I was used to his sheer size, I relaxed sufficiently that it no longer felt as overwhelming as it slid deeper into my mouth. Sadly, after a few minutes of this incredible new sensation, William pulled away, leaving me craving more – I wanted him as deep in my mouth as I could take him.
“I think it’s time for the full body-to-body experience, madam, don’t you?”
What was I about to do? What would my husband think? And what would it do to my marriage? All questions I couldn’t answer.