Male technician at D foot massage parlor

I've been married to my wife for almost 10 years. We dated for many years before that, so our relationship

has slowly evolved from romantic love to more like family. However, our passion in bed remains unchanged. Let me introduce my wife: she has beautiful

features, is 163cm tall, weighs 110 pounds, and has a 33D bust—a classic hourglass figure that

I've always loved. My

wife works for a sales company in the East China economic zone, which requires her to travel frequently, making her very

busy . Sometimes she's away on business for over a week, leaving me feeling pent up at home and only able to relieve my pent-up desire by watching Japanese adult films.

This early spring, she was away on a business trip for four or five days. Knowing her train arrived at 5:30 pm, I eagerly

went to the station to pick her up. After waiting for a long time, I finally saw a familiar figure emerge from the station entrance. I went up and gave

her a warm hug. My wife nestled gently in my arms. I grinned mischievously and said, "Sweetie

, did you miss your husband while you were out?" "Mmm, I missed you a lot." "Did you miss me, or your

little brother ?" "You're so naughty..." My wife pretended to be angry and punched me.

Since the station wasn't far from home,

we took a walk home. After having dinner at a small restaurant, we prepared to go home and have some fun.

My wife was wearing a business suit, which made her look very much like an office lady. Because it was cold, she wore black wool stockings.

On the way home, I unconsciously touched my wife's perky buttocks, but she seemed worried that people would see her and ran away.

I thought to myself, "Little slut, still pretending. Wait till we get home, I'll fuck you to death." As we passed a foot massage parlor not far from home

, my wife suddenly said to me, "Honey, I'm so tired from my

business trip these past few days. How about we get a foot massage?" I was in a rush

to

get back and prepare for a big "battle," but I was also quite exhausted from work. Why not relax a bit so I'd be in good shape for a passionate encounter with my wife later? "Okay, let's relax today," I said to my wife. Walking in, we found ourselves climbing

a flight of stairs. A hostess led us to a private room upstairs and gave us a menu

to choose our foot bath ingredients. I chose milk for my wife, thinking I'd go for the simplest option. The

hostess said that meant there weren't many ingredients, but I said it didn't matter. Then she asked us, "Would you two like a male

or female masseuse?" Usually, when I go for a foot massage, I always call a woman, but since my wife was with me,

I felt a little awkward asking for one. But then I thought, if I call a woman and my wife a man, it should be

fine . Haha, "My wife chose a man, I'll have a woman," the masseuse said, "Okay, please wait a moment," and left.

My wife, however, was complaining, "Why did you choose a man for me?" I said men are strong, and a massage like that is relaxing.

My wife didn't say anything more, and we watched TV in the private room. Soon, the male and female masseuses came in with foot basins.

Since my wife was wearing a bodysuit, she had to take it off first. My wife looked at me shyly, and although I

said it was okay, I knew that under her skirt, besides the bodysuit, she was only wearing underwear. Since

she still had her skirt, there was no need to worry too much. My wife awkwardly took off her bodysuit in front of the male masseuse.

Of course the male masseuse was looking down and adjusting the milk in the foot basin, so he didn't see my wife's actions. However, I

suddenly felt a little excited that my wife was taking off her pants in front of another man.

Lying on the recliner and soaking her feet was truly a comfortable thing. The air conditioning was on in the private room. My wife had taken off her coat

, and her 33D breasts were tightly wrapped in her white shirt, which made me a little excited. I figured

the male masseur must have been glancing at them a few times too. Since my wife was only wearing underwear under her skirt, she instinctively kept

her legs together to avoid being seen by the male masseur sitting at her feet. The female masseur was quite talkative,

chatting with us about everything from international affairs to everyday matters. My wife gradually relaxed and became less reserved. Once she relaxed, she wasn't

so concerned about being exposed. The male masseur, though focused on soaking my wife's feet, occasionally chimed in with a few words, his eyes frequently

glancing up her skirt. I noticed this and couldn't help but feel a little jealous. But it wasn't a big deal; it

was just a matter of being seen under her skirt.

After the foot soak was finished and her feet were dried, they took the foot basin and left. I asked my wife if she was cold after taking off her coat.

She said that with the air conditioning on, it was actually a bit hot, and she even unbuttoned the top two buttons of her shirt. I told her not to

catch a cold , but she said it was fine, the water was too hot, and she was sweating from soaking in it. They came back a little while later and

the standard foot bath procedure began. Because my wife is quite sensitive, when the male masseur massaged the soles of her feet, she

couldn't help but laugh. I found it amusing that she was so ticklish. My wife said she was ticklish, and asked the masseur to be

gentler, saying it hurt a little. The masseur said that the area he had just massaged was the stomach area, and perhaps her

stomach wasn't very good, which was why it hurt. My wife couldn't help but worry again.

After the feet were massaged, they started massaging her legs. My wife was only wearing a skirt, and the male masseur

massaged her legs directly. This excited me even more. My wife was having her legs touched by a strange man, and my

cuckoldry fantasies slowly surfaced. My attention was entirely on my wife; although I was watching TV, my eyes

kept glancing at her legs. The male masseur started massaging my wife's calves and worked his way up to her thighs. My wife kept her eyes tightly closed,

her face slightly flushed, whether from shyness or the heat, I couldn't tell. I felt something unusual in my groin. "Damn, I'm

getting an erection," I cursed inwardly, but nothing more stimulated me, which actually made me a little disappointed.

After a while, both legs were finished, and the masseur asked my wife to lie face down so he could massage the back of her legs and back. My

wife complied and lay down on her stomach. The masseur adjusted the recliner to a fully flat

position , and I saw him secretly glancing at my wife's neckline as he did so. Because two buttons were undone,

a small portion of my wife's white breasts could be seen through the neckline. I was almost fully erect when the female masseur

asked me to lie face down as well. Thankfully, it wasn't so awkward anymore. By then, my wife was lying face down on the recliner, her pert

buttocks and waist forming a perfect curve.

After stealing a few glances, the male masseur began massaging

my wife's legs, gradually moving upwards. His hands had already passed the hem of her skirt and were still moving upwards. I pretended to be leaning forward with my head turned to the side, but I was actually

watching his hands intently. His hands were now pressed against the base of my wife's thighs, his two thumbs

pinching her inner thighs. Seeing my wife's pert buttocks almost completely submerged in his hands, my breathing quickened

. My wife buried her head in her arms, so I couldn't see her expression clearly, but the blush on her face was growing stronger.

It was getting more and more obvious. I wondered if he was touching my wife's pussy. (Later, when we got home, my wife confirmed

this.)

At that moment, the male masseur suddenly spread my wife's legs apart. Because she was wearing a skirt, he practically pushed

her legs off the recliner. He took off his shoes and knelt between her legs,

massaging her waist. This position made me fantasize. My wife's thighs were open, and her skirt was almost pushed up to her buttocks

. I could vaguely see her black lace panties. This little slut, she actually wore such

sexy . These panties were the ones I bought for her last time; you could vaguely see her pussy inside. In this position,

wasn't the male masseur seeing everything? Sure enough, although the male masseur was massaging my wife's waist, his eyes

were completely focused on the panties under her skirt. I pressed my penis and felt a slight throbbing pain.

Seeing my wife's head bowed and unresponsive, the male masseur became even bolder when he glanced at me.

His hands

not only moved from her waist to her shapely buttocks, but he also subtly and intentionally

lifted her skirt little by little with each rub. I didn't know if my wife was enjoying it or asleep; she was completely

unaware that the male masseur had seen everything under her skirt. The scene was so stimulating that

I didn't even notice the female masseur massaging my buttocks or intentionally touching my genitals. The male masseur

massaged my wife's buttocks for nearly 10 minutes, while he stared under her skirt for a full ten minutes. I noticed that the male masseur

's baggy shorts seemed to be making a tent-like shape. Finally, after the two masseuses left and closed the door, I

immediately locked it. My wife was still lying there, so I knelt between her thighs. Damn! Her black lace

panties were completely exposed. No wonder that guy kept looking there. I touched them—holy crap! Her lace panties were

already soaked through. My wife blushed and asked, "What are you doing?" "What do you think I want to do, miss?" I teased

my wife with ill intent, my hands not idle either, directly reaching inside her collar to touch her large breasts. Her nipples

immediately hardened like grapes at the touch.

My wife moaned softly, and I freed one hand to attack her lower body. Her lace

panties were already wet, so I bypassed them and touched her vulva. Sure enough, it was overflowing. I

showed my wife my fingers, which were covered in her juices, "You little slut, are you enjoying being touched like this?"

"Mmm, it feels so good, honey, it's so exciting and pleasurable. Kiss me." Seeing that my wife was completely aroused, I

didn't care that we were in a foot massage parlor, since I had already locked the door to the private room. I ripped off my wife's lace panties,

pressed her down on the recliner, and penetrated her from behind. My wife let out a soft "oh." Because she was

already , I didn't need any foreplay and could thrust all the way in. The feeling was indescribable. My wife

couldn't hold on any longer and collapsed onto the recliner. I held her waist and did

push-ups . In less than five minutes, I brought her to orgasm. In this place, my wife didn't dare to

moan loudly. Seeing her holding back, I felt a surge of excitement and couldn't control myself. I ejaculated all

the semen into her uterus.

My wife took a tissue to wipe herself clean and prepared to put

on her soaking wet panties. I said, "You're still wearing them when they're so wet? Don't wear them." Having just finished her orgasm, my wife

completely obeyed my instructions, putting on her pantyhose and leaving the house. After paying at the bar, looking at my wife

's flushed face after her orgasm, I grinned wickedly. As I walked out of the foot massage parlor, I pinched my wife's butt hard again, and

she ran away again. That little slut.

Back home, after showering, I lay in bed watching TV for a while; my wife was already asleep. Recalling that stimulating

touch , my little brother started to get aroused again. I secretly rubbed my penis between my wife's buttocks, and soon

she woke up. "What are you doing, honey?" "What do you think I'm doing, you little slut?" "No, no

..." At this point, I ignored her pleas, flipped her over, and kissed her earlobe,

a sensitive spot. Hearing her moans, I thrust in again. "Little

slut, did you really want to be touched by that male masseur earlier?" I asked her this shameful

question while fucking her. "Mmm, I'm a slut, I want to be fucked by a male masseur. Ah... Husband, hurry. Hurry..." Hearing

my wife 's moans, I excitedly increased the intensity of my thrusts. My wife had already reached a state of ecstasy, constantly

murmuring incoherently. Soon, we both reached orgasm, and I ejaculated inside her again. It seems my wife

has adapted to this mild exhibitionism and is performing very well. Looks like we'll have to go to that foot massage parlor a few more times.

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