Taking my wife to a spa with the opposite sex

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-23

My luck started the new year pretty well; I signed a new contract, and although it took a lot of effort to sign it, I'm still very happy! (I shared the whole process of how I signed it earlier.) The company's product sales in several companies have also increased compared to last year, so it's a good start. I'm in a great mood. I also hope everyone here has good luck in the new year!

Anyway, I'm getting a bit off-topic. Let me introduce my wife; I don't need to, I've already mentioned her. She's 33 years old, 167 cm tall, and weighs 106 kg. She's a beauty, and although she's had a child, she's recovered remarkably well. She had abdominal skin tightening surgery, and now you can hardly see any stretch marks. She also does yoga and accompanies me to the gym to run, so her body is quite firm. Although her breasts have sagged a little, it's not noticeable at all (after all, she's had a child). My wife attracts a lot of attention when she walks down the street. Every time I see other men looking at my wife, I get incredibly excited, but it's not the kind of excitement that comes from being envied; it's a strange kind of excitement. I also often fantasize about my wife with other men, about the look of pleasure she'll have when they penetrate her, and about turning her into a cuckold. Just thinking about it gets me really excited. I've tried, but it's been very unsuccessful. Every time I try to "work on" my wife, she either yells at me or calls me crazy. So I've consulted many netizens for advice, but none of their methods have worked. They all tell me to take it slow, to try different environments, etc. But nothing works. My wife isn't exactly conservative; she wears sexy lingerie, sometimes uses fakes, and we've had sex in the wild and in cars. In the summer, we often do it naked at home with the curtains open (maybe because our apartment is on a high floor and there aren't any tall buildings across the street). I was about to give up when, once, I took clients to the Maldives, and my wife wore a very revealing bikini—it practically only covered her private parts. Later, when we were getting essential oil treatments, we even hired a male masseur. Although it wasn't very intimate, at least my wife accepted it.

I thought, "This might work." After returning home, I tried it again, but I got scolded again and didn't speak to her for days. Then I saw an article online about a very conservative woman who went to Saipan and had a male masseur for a spa treatment, and even experienced penetration, which she seemed to enjoy. I thought, "Yes, I'll try that too." So I consulted travel agencies, specifically about spa services. I went to several agencies, but they all offered similar, reputable spas. I searched online, but couldn't find anything helpful. I looked on Weibo for reviews from people who had been there. After searching extensively, I found someone who seemed to know, so I tagged her. She replied quickly, and we became friends. She was very enthusiastic, providing detailed information about where to find such spas, prices, and services. With the information, I acted quickly, immediately calling my wife to ask if she was going to Saipan for vacation. My wife immediately agreed (after all, everyone agrees to a trip). We submitted our passports for the visa application early the next morning. We were quite excited while waiting for the visa. After getting the visa, we immediately booked our flights and set off (we were traveling independently, and our English was passable enough for basic conversations). We stayed in Saipan for a week before returning home. On the fourth day, at my urging, my wife got a full-body aromatherapy spa treatment from a white masseuse, which I recorded entirely with a DV camera. When we got back, my wife insisted I delete it. I had no choice but to delete it, but I'm not stupid; I knew she would do this and had made a backup beforehand. Every time I see this video, I get incredibly excited, so excited that my penis gets wet. Below, I'll share this exciting video with you in writing. Because there are so many details, it might be a bit long in words, so please bear with me.

In mid-July last year, my wife and I flew to Saipan. After arriving, we checked into the hotel recommended by that Weibo influencer. The environment was quite nice and comfortable, facing the sea, and my wife was very satisfied. We hired a local guide, and for the first three days we just sunbathed, went diving, jet skiing, visited nearby Managaha Island and Bird Island, and enjoyed Saipan's local cuisine. (Personally, I think it's better than the Maldives; the Maldives is too monotonous.) On the fourth morning, we slept in late, and after lunch, my wife lay by the hotel pool sunbathing. I got her a glass of orange juice, sat down next to her, and asked if she wanted an aromatherapy spa. She said yes, her skin had been so dry from the sun these past few days, even sunscreen wasn't enough. I said, "Let's do it later, I'll find you a male masseur." My wife glanced at me and asked, "Why a man?" I said, "A man's technique is better, it feels better." My wife said, "An aromatherapy spa is a full-body treatment, you want a man to do it for me?" I said, "What's the big deal? On TV, it's always the man doing the massage for the woman. Besides, this is done professionally abroad. I'm just learning the techniques here, and when you're tired at home, I can help you too." My wife didn't say anything after I finished speaking, nor did she object. I knew she agreed. I quickly went back to the room to grab the DV camera, and my wife and I went to the hotel's spa. When we arrived at the spa, we were surprised to find that one of the receptionists was Chinese. We asked in English first, and when the Chinese woman heard we were from China, she started communicating with us in Chinese. This was much more convenient. She led us to a room, and the decor was very similar to Southeast Asian style. There was a large bed, a large bathtub, and a spa bed, separated by a screen. On the wooden shelves on both sides were various essential oils, bath towels, and some local decorations. There was also aromatherapy burning, which smelled very pleasant. Near the stained-glass window were a pair of unique sofas and a coffee table with Japanese tea utensils on it. The receptionist asked us to sit down and made us some tea. They started talking to us (several hundred words omitted here). Then they asked what kind of spa we wanted and gave us a brochure with detailed descriptions of the services, the ingredients and uses of the essential oils, the techniques, the areas to be treated, and the therapists. (Although my English is mediocre, I could understand the gist.) The hotel's standard spa treatments are free, but adding anything extra would cost extra. I casually asked how much it would cost for everything, and she said it would be an additional $400. Wow, that's expensive! My wife also said it wasn't necessary, too pricey. But then I thought, if I asked her to do just one treatment, she might not agree, so I told her that since we were already there, money wasn't an issue. As the saying goes, "Travel and sightseeing will make you spend all your money," and as long as she's happy, it doesn't matter how much it costs. My wife seemed pleased with this, saying I was good at flattering her. (I knew she was being sarcastic; she was secretly very happy.) Then the receptionist asked what I wanted to do, and I said I wouldn't do anything, just keep her company. The receptionist glanced at me, smiled, and then let my wife choose a technician (to be honest, the technicians in the photos weren't very attractive). My wife chose a white technician who looked relatively pleasing to the eye. After the selection, the receptionist asked us to wait a moment while she went to call the technician. While waiting for the technician, my wife said she was a little shy and embarrassed, and that it felt strange with me there. I told her it was okay, just ignore me. She said, "How could that be?" I said it was fine, she could just blindfold herself with a towel later. Perhaps my earlier words had pleased her, because she didn't say anything more. After waiting for 10 minutes, two female technicians arrived. I immediately thought it was strange that they were women. I asked and found out that this was part of the earlier service. So I turned on my camera and started recording the whole process. The two female technicians were dark-skinned, just like Filipinos. One of them started filling the bathtub with water, while the other changed the bed with a clean large bath towel. Then they rinsed the spa bed. (The spa bed had two pipes, one spraying water and the other spraying some kind of oil). After filling the bathtub, she went to the essential oil table, took out two bottles of something, and poured them into the bathtub (she said it was a local plant essence). The water turned a pale green and had a pleasant fragrance. Then she sprinkled some dried rose petals on top. She told my wife to soak in it. After my wife got in, she asked her what she wanted to drink. Before my wife could answer, I said red wine. My wife didn't refuse, and she poured a glass of red wine and placed it on the edge of the bathtub. After soaking for about half an hour, my wife got out of the bathtub and lay on the spa bed. The two technicians started to wash my wife's entire body with water, washing very thoroughly, including her nipples, genitals, and even gently parting her large hands to wash them. (Because they were female technicians, my wife wasn't embarrassed.) After washing, they started applying a lotion that my wife had mixed while she was soaking to her entire body. The lotion was green, probably mint or something similar, and my wife said it felt very refreshing on her skin. Then they applied a lotion mixed with cucumber juice to my wife's face. Both technicians were very professional, paying attention to every detail. (The service was worth the price, unlike in China.) Half an hour later, they used another tube of oil to wash my wife's entire body, meticulously cleaning every part. The technician's hands followed the oil as it was applied, and this continued for another half hour. (My goodness, I was exhausted from standing and filming, and I almost finished a memory card.) Then they used water and a white lotion to cleanse my wife's entire body (this was similar to a milk shower gel, rinsing off the oil). This continued for another 15 minutes. Then... (I'll skip the details; the two technicians did all the treatments, like volcanic rock therapy, but I won't go into the specifics, you know what I mean). All of this took three hours. (So damn tiring!) They wrapped my wife in a towel and had her lie on the bed. I knew this was the moment I was about to experience, and I immediately perked up. The two female masseuses packed up their things, clasped their hands together in prayer, and left (damn, they're acting like Thais now). Five minutes later, the male masseur finally arrived.

(A bit disappointing; although he had some muscles, his skin looked like it had vitiligo, probably from sunburn.) After coming in, he first went to the counter to wash his hands. Then he told me to leave. I didn't expect him to say that after coming in—this was exactly what I was waiting for. I asked why. He replied that they didn't allow photos or observation, something like that. I was furious. I said I paid money and they wouldn't let me take photos here? This is my wife; I think he should understand me perfectly. He replied that it was the rule and I should respect their rules. What the hell are these stupid rules? I angrily said, "If they won't let me here, we won't do it!" But I swallowed the words back. This was exactly what I was waiting for; saying that would mean all my efforts were wasted. My wife said, "Why don't we just not do it? We've already had a very comfortable experience so far." I said, "No, we're here today for you to enjoy yourself. Let me talk to him again." (My English is better than my wife's.) I pulled the technician aside and asked if he could make an exception. He shook

his head and said no. Damn it, I was furious. I blurted out, "Can I have the shoot here for a hundred dollars tip?" He immediately said okay. Screw that, so he just wanted a tip! (I was so angry I thought I was back in China, and blurted out a hundred dollars tip without realizing it was in US dollars.) I quickly changed the memory card and battery, worried the memory card would run out halfway through. The technician walked to the bed, smiled at my wife, and greeted her. He probably sensed my wife's limited English. My wife seemed shy and closed her eyes after seeing him. I asked the technician, "Do you have blindfolds here?"

He told me he had some, so he went to the cabinet where the essential oils were and took out an eye mask, which he gave to me. I wondered why he was giving it to me; he probably didn't understand and thought I wanted it. I took it and went over to help my wife put it on. My wife's hand rested on mine, and I could clearly feel her hand tense. Suddenly, I felt a surge of excitement, and many images flashed through my mind. I turned on the DV camera and started filming.

My wife was lying face down on the bed when the male masseur went to the essential oil counter and took three large bottles of essential oil, placing them on the shelf beside the bed. He first helped my wife re-arrange her hair (thinking it was a bit loose). Then he pulled off the bath towel wrapped around my wife's body. My wife was startled, and he told her to lift up slightly so he could remove the towel. My wife understood this in English, lifted up, and covered herself with one hand. After removing the towel, he folded it and placed it on my wife's buttocks. Then he pulled my wife's right hand, indicating that she should relax and put her hand flat, which my wife did. He first poured the oil from the purple bottle onto my wife's back, then slowly rubbed it in with his hands, moving to her arms and sides. I could see her resist slightly when his hands brushed against her chest. He then started applying it to her entire thighs, omitting her buttocks. However, when he applied it to her inner thighs, I could clearly see her legs were tightly clenched. Because a towel was covering her buttocks, her groin area was still not visible. After applying it evenly, he took out the blue bottle and poured some essential oil onto her back, applying it in the same way. It was quite amazing; I could clearly feel that after applying both oils, my wife's skin turned a noticeably bronzer, looking very alluring.

He continued this process, helping my wife in this way. About 15 minutes later, he pulled the towel covering my wife's buttocks off, rolled it into a circle, and then told my wife to lift her buttocks. My wife didn't understand what he meant, so I translated it for her. My wife was a little embarrassed, but slowly lifted her buttocks. He then placed the round towel underneath, so her buttocks were now raised. I knew this was the moment to start the buttock massage. My wife's legs were tightly closed, so close that only her buttocks were visible. The masseur took out a white bottle of essential oil and poured it onto my wife's buttocks. Perhaps because the oil had been heated up earlier, when this was poured on, my wife clearly felt a chill, and her body twitched slightly. Then the masseur began to stroke my wife's buttocks with both hands, pressing acupoints with his thumbs. Perhaps because the pressure made my wife a little sore, my wife twisted her body in resistance. The masseur quickly realized this and immediately stopped pressing. He poured some more essential oil and continued stroking her buttocks. After a while, he took out the essential oil bottle again and poured it, this time into my wife's buttocks. My wife's legs visibly tightened, and his fingers began to slide out along her buttocks. At this point, I could see her labia contracting, resisting. But the masseur's technique was good; he didn't press down immediately, but gently rubbed back and forth along her buttocks. After a few rubs, my wife's resistance subsided, and her legs slightly opened, indicating she was feeling something and hoping the masseur's hand would reach her. With her legs slightly open, her alluring figure was completely exposed (mainly due to the padding), incredibly tempting. I could clearly see some engorgement on both sides (my wife is quite large, and before coming to Saipan, she had used a hair removal treatment to make her look good in a swimsuit, so it was very clean). The masseur's fingers slowly reached my wife's genitals and began to gently rotate. As he massaged, my wife suddenly made a slight sound. I knew this meant the masseur's fingers had entered her vagina. (A lot of oil might make it easier to enter). The masseur had one hand on my wife's back and one finger teasing her genitals. I, watching from the side, was also completely aroused. After a while, I noticed a clear liquid on my wife's genitals. It wasn't oil; it was definitely her vaginal fluid. At this point, the masseur asked my wife to turn over to face me. She was still a little embarrassed as she turned, her right hand still covering her chest, and her legs naturally clamped together. The masseur probably noticed her shyness and covered her hips with a towel. He then told her to relax, removing her right hand from her chest, revealing her breasts completely. I could tell she was having all sorts of thoughts, because I saw her nipples were erect. The masseur first applied purple essential oil to my wife's chest and then began massaging with both hands. However, he didn't directly massage her but instead spread the oil all over her body—abdomen, arms, thighs. When he reached her inner thighs, my wife was much more cooperative and less resistant than before. Finally, he started with my wife. He slowly pushed upwards with his entire palm from below, then from the side towards the center. When he reached the center, his thumb and forefinger were pinching her nipples. He continued this back-and-forth motion, and my wife's nipples remained hard. I could clearly feel her face turning slightly red. I could also clearly feel her legs starting to twist. At this point, he took out a blue bottle, poured out some essential oil, and repeated the previous actions, doing it again, but this time he pushed for a longer time and pressed on her lower abdomen for quite a while. Then he slowly removed the towel covering my wife. This time, my wife's legs were fine; they weren't clamped as tightly, and her labia were clearly visible. (The hair removal cream removed all the hair; there was no prickly hair.) The technician then took out a white bottle of essential oil and poured it onto my wife's upper body. This time, he poured a lot, and much of it flowed down her genitals. He didn't apply it directly to her genitals but instead applied it to her lower abdomen. (I think it was in the uterus.) Then he placed his hand on his wife's lower abdomen, fingers pointing downwards, and slowly pressed down. His hand gradually reached her vulva, his index and middle fingers sliding down from her labia, then gently pinching and lifting them outwards. I don't know if this was the intended effect, or if there was too much oil making it too slippery, but her labia slipped out after being lifted. He repeated this pressing motion many times. At this point, I saw that my wife's labia were completely engorged. Suddenly, his technique changed. His middle finger slid down between her labia, and my wife clearly felt a tightening sensation; she must have been touched. The masseur repeated this several times, each time my wife's body twitched slightly. When he slid down again, his hand stopped moving and instead began to part my wife's labia, gently pressing on her urethra a few times. Perhaps it felt good, because my wife started breathing heavily. Then he took out the essential oil bottle with his left hand, poured some more oil, and began pressing on my wife's vulva, his left fingers rubbing her nipples back and forth. A minute later, it was clear my wife was getting into the mood.

Her breathing was rapid, and her voice was getting heavier and louder. After a while, her legs started to open slowly and automatically. I knew she was about to climax; this was the signal for penetration. At this point, I figured anyone could penetrate her. Her last line of defense had completely collapsed. The masseur stroked her with his middle finger, and used his index and ring fingers to spread her labia. At this point, my wife's vagina was completely open, like a butterfly's opening. It was starting to feel like a vaginal lubrication, and I could clearly see fluid flowing from her mouth. My wife's body was twisting more and more violently. Suddenly, my wife said, "Husband, I can't take it anymore.

I can't, I really can't take it." The masseur didn't understand what she meant, but he understood. Looking at my wife's legs again, they were completely open. She had given away her most beautiful parts. At this moment, the technician poured some more essential oil, then gently rubbed my wife's mouth with his right middle and ring fingers, pressing lightly with his thumb, while his left hand pressed on her lower abdomen. With a low, comfortable moan from my wife, the technician inserted his two fingers from her mouth into her vagina. I knew he was finding her G-spot; the technician was indeed professional, finding it immediately. In just a few strokes, my wife's moan was almost distorted. Her vagina also lifted, beginning to cooperate with the technician's movements. I saw my wife's vaginal fluid flowing out in waves as the technician's hands moved. And the technician showed no sign of stopping, continuing.

At this moment, I saw my wife suddenly push her hands together, squeezing them towards the center. Once she reached the center, she gripped her hands tightly and began rubbing herself. I knew my wife had completely reached her climax and was completely absorbed, oblivious to everyone and everything around her. My wife was saying, "Honey, honey, I really can't take it anymore, I'm going to die, tell him to stop, I really can't." Although my wife was saying this, I knew she didn't want to stop. If she really wanted to stop, she could have simply said "stop" (she knew that word), or she could have pushed herself away with her hands. At this point, my wife was completely covered in sweat, which mingled with the oil and made her skin shine, making her look particularly beautiful. I casually asked, "Honey, are you enjoying this?" My wife, panting heavily, replied, "No...no...that's enough." At this moment, the masseur suddenly pulled out two of his fingers, and I clearly saw a stream of fluid spurt out with them. My wife's breathing remained heavy, and the erection she had just raised slowly lowered.

The technician suddenly inserted his hand again, continuing to probe her G-spot. My wife, who had just relaxed, lifted it again, swaying up and down in rhythm with him. Her legs were also stretched taut and tense, and this time her entire back was raised. Her moans grew louder and louder. This time, the time lasted as long as before. When the technician withdrew his finger, a lot of fluid gushed out again. I was incredibly excited; I had never seen my wife ejaculate like this before. This time, the technician continued to press even after removing his finger. Although my wife's body had relaxed, she was still writhing, and her moans continued. Several dozen seconds later, the technician inserted his finger again, and my wife once again lifted it in rhythm with him. This time, my wife's moans were completely hoarse. But it was this hoarseness that was special. At this moment, I noticed that my wife was holding her own penis with one hand and the technician's penis with the other. The technician didn't object and let my wife hold it. I knew that my wife was probably not quite conscious at this point. Her whole body was tense. This time, the G-spot lasted longer than the previous two times. After the technician withdrew his fingers, my wife's entire body was convulsing, and she seemed to be struggling to breathe. Her legs were also trembling uncontrollably, and it took a long time for them to stop. She was completely open, and fluid was still slowly flowing out. The technician was now slowly stroking my wife's entire body; it seemed to be over. Then, the technician used a towel to wipe the essential oil off my wife's body and covered her with it. He told my wife to lie down for a while. He filled the bathtub with water, saying my wife would soak in it later, and then someone would come to apply lotion. After he left, I removed my wife's eye mask. Her eyes were full of water, and her face was also covered in water; it was impossible to tell if it was sweat or tears. Her face was flushed. I gave my wife some tea, and she drank the whole pot in one gulp. I asked her, "Was it comfortable?" My wife didn't even have the strength to speak. She whispered to me, "Honey, you're so naughty, making me do this." I knew she was actually quite happy inside, but she just didn't want to say it. My wife lay there for ten minutes, then went for a soak. Then the same two women came and applied lotion all over her body. She was so exhausted she barely had the strength to walk back to the room. Once there, she collapsed onto the bed and fell asleep. Watching her naked, I turned on the video camera and watched the footage I'd shot. Hearing her hysterical screams and seeing her being played with by other men, I couldn't take it anymore. I masturbated, and this time I ejaculated a lot. Afterwards, I often secretly watched that video. Every time I watched it, I felt a kind of excitement, and my penis would get wet. Sigh...

[The End]

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Taking my wife to a spa with the opposite sex

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