The good wife who cheated

I've been feeling really tired lately, so I went to a hot spring resort owned by my husband to take a bath. He'd
told me their massages were good, so I wanted to try it out. After half an hour, I climbed out of the hot spring,
wrapped myself in a towel, and went back to my room.
When I got back, a hostess was already waiting for me. Since I'd never been
to this business owned by my husband before, and hadn't mentioned it to him, no one there recognized me; they only
knew I was a beautiful, elegant young woman.
"Guest, please have a drink first," the hostess said, handing me a red beverage as I entered. She
then closed the back door and drew the curtains. "Please wait a moment, the masseuse will be here shortly."
"So she's not a masseuse..." I thought nervously as I drank my beverage.
"Please lie down on the bed, okay?" the hostess said, helping me up.
"Oh..." I reluctantly went to the bed and awkwardly lay down.
"Is this your first time getting a massage?" The masseuse noticed my nervousness and said gently, "Please don't be nervous, sir."
"Okay..." I blushed.
"Please take off your towel, then turn around and lie face down on the bed, okay?" The masseuse's voice was soft, but
every word made my heart race.
After the masseuse helped me remove the towel, I turned to my luggage to get a set of underwear. As I put on my elegant
white lace panties and prepared to put on my bra, the masseuse smiled and stopped me.
"Sir, you can't wear underwear during a massage, it will reduce the effectiveness of the acupressure massage!"
I had no choice but to put the bra back in my luggage, and then, wearing only my elegant white lace panties, I lay face down on the bed,
secretly scolding myself for choosing such an embarrassing situation.
The masseuse smiled secretly and covered my lower body with a square white towel.
"Please wait a moment, sir, the masseuse will be here shortly." After saying that, she left the room.
I was left alone in the room, my back exposed, lying quietly on the bed.
At that moment, I felt an indescribable regret and blamed myself again. Just as I was having second thoughts
, the door was pushed open. With a click, the door closed, and someone walked in.
I, who had been lying on the bed, turned my head and saw the masseur—a waiter in his twenties, wearing
a white uniform, somewhat like a doctor's coat. "The masseur is a man!" I was shocked, and my face flushed red. Was I supposed to receive a massage from a man
while completely naked ? At that moment, I didn't know whether to get up or lie down; I was incredibly embarrassed and ashamed. I wanted to tell the masseur that I was the chairman's wife, but I didn't know how to say it. Watching the masseur walk to the bedside , I could only bury my head in the specially made breathable pillow in shame, lying quietly on the bed like a lamb to the slaughter. "Dear guest, the masseur will now begin your massage." Hearing the masseur's gentle voice, I felt a chill run down my exposed spine. The masseur seemed oblivious to my shame, and of course, he wouldn't have guessed I was the chairman's wife. He stood respectfully by the bed, gently taking my left arm in his hands, his fingers softly kneading the flesh. My heart pounded, and I grew increasingly terrified. The masseur's fingers began massaging my left shoulder, then slowly moved downwards: elbow, forearm , wrist, palm, and finally my fingers. Then he massaged in the opposite direction , returning to my left shoulder. "Please relax a little, sir," the experienced masseur then gently tapped my left arm with his palms, moving up and down along my hand several times, gradually increasing the pressure. Hearing his words, my face burned even hotter, and I felt incredibly ashamed. But since the masseur had made this request , I could only try my best to control my nervousness. I buried my head tightly in the breathable pillow, closed my eyes, and tried to breathe deeply to ease my tension. Perhaps the masseuse was truly skilled; during the brief massage of my left arm, the masseuse quickly found the right pressure based on my body's response. They gradually increased the pressure, paying attention to the balance of light strokes, and the acupressure points were very precise. Soon, my arm felt comfortable and relaxed amidst the slight pain. After stretching and manipulating the five fingers of my left hand, the masseuse then took my entire left arm, gently bending and stretching it, centering on the shoulder joint and using the elbow as the bending point. With occasional soft "clicks," I felt all the joints in my left arm stretching and moving an indescribable feeling of comfort traveled from my left arm to my brain and spread throughout my body. In just a few minutes, I experienced a comfort I had never felt before. As my body relaxed, my muscles and joints entered a soft and relaxed state, and my heart gradually returned to peace. Perhaps there was no need to be nervous at all! I thought to myself, almost mocking my own earlier embarrassment and tension. At that moment, the masseuse lowered my left arm, walked around the head of the bed to the other side, gently sat on the edge, and then took my right arm, beginning to massage it. My right arm experienced the exact same sensation as my left. After massaging my arm, the masseuse's hands pressed on my shoulders, applying slight pressure and slowly kneading. Then, with each comfortable groan, her hands began to vigorously knead my back, sometimes kneading the back of my neck, sometimes pressing and pushing my shoulder blades, sometimes pinching and manipulating my spine, sometimes stroking my waist. Occasionally, when she touched sensitive areas, such as my armpits or lower back, a pang of worry and shame would rise within me, but I tried my best to control my emotions. Sometimes I thought to myself, the masseuse must have massaged many people; if I were too shy, it would seem petty, and I might be laughed at. Even I was surprised when this thought crossed my mind. How could I have become so concerned with saving face? As a married woman, to have such intimate skin-to-skin contact with a strange man—it was utterly unbelievable to me in my daily life. Yet, at that moment, my brain was slowly swelling and heating up; a flame seemed to be burning deep within my cerebral cortex , and my body no longer seemed to resist this strange yet intimate contact. Could it be…?

I had a vague feeling that the drink I'd just had might have had an aphrodisiac effect, but my brain was too busy to
think about it. As the massage continued, my nerves completely relaxed, my breathing became
light and even, and my thoughts began to drift.
It wasn't until a slight pain shot through an acupoint on my back that I snapped back to reality.
Opening my eyes , I realized the masseuse had somehow climbed onto the bed and was kneeling beside me, massaging
my back.
Lost in the pleasure, I seemed oblivious to all this. I exhaled softly, closed my eyes again, and
quietly enjoyed the massage. "Please lie down properly, sir. Next is the second part..." The masseuse's voice seemed to drift into my ears
from afar . I gave a soft hum in response. Just as I was feeling a little lightheaded, I suddenly felt a chill on my lower body—the masseuse had lifted the towel covering my lower body. In my dazed state, I realized I was only wearing a pair of white lace panties, semi-transparent, tight, and thin. If the masseur lifted my towel, wouldn't he be able to see my private parts clearly? "Wait..." I struggled to break free from the pleasurable sensation in my mind, managing to utter just two words, but the masseur was already straddling my lap, pressing his hands against my full, round buttocks. "Please, sir, don't move..." the masseur said in a slightly reproachful tone , stopping me from moving. "How could you..." I tried to say something, but the masseur's hands had already begun to vigorously knead my buttocks and waist. Was this even a massage...? I found it unbelievable, and a sudden wave of shame brought me back to my senses. But the masseur was sitting if I got up like this, wouldn't people think I was inconsiderate or ignorant? Perhaps they'd blame me for mistaking someone's kindness for something bad. But after all, the masseur was touching my sensitive areas. Was I really going to just let this stranger caress my buttocks? My mind went blank; I didn't know how to react. Just then, a sharp, piercing pain shot through my groin, and I cried out . The masseur was kneading the main tendon in my groin. Perhaps he was using too much force, or perhaps my thighs weren't used enough, but the pressure was painful. "Does it hurt? I'm sorry! Massager, be gentler… like this… look…" The masseur quickly apologized, while gently rubbing my groin with his fingers. At the beautiful curve of my buttocks, in front of the semi-transparent lace crotch, the man's fingers slowly caressed the young woman's fair, smooth thighs. This time the pressure was lighter; it didn't hurt as much as before, but the previous touch still left me shaken . "Guest, your thighs seem a bit stiff..." the masseuse said while massaging. "Has your thigh not been touched before, or has your leg been stimulated recently...?" "No..." Hearing this, my heart skipped a beat. Thinking of what had happened in the past few days, I suddenly felt terrified and hurriedly replied. "It seems you need more massages..." "..." At this point, I dared not speak again and could only obediently lie on the bed, letting the masseuse massage my legs. The masseuse opened her palms and wrapped them around my left thigh, kneading the smooth muscles while pressing the acupoints and nerves on my leg, from the thigh, past the knee, all the way to the calf. Then she gently lifted my ankle, gently rotated my foot, and then lightly scratched my sole with her fingernails. Just as a feeling of comfort was gradually rising , her hands released my foot and massaged back along the original path, all the way to my thigh. Then, the masseuse's hands covered my buttocks, kneading and squeezing my soft, plump buttocks through my thin lace panties. If the previous actions felt like a massage, then the masseuse's actions felt more like caresses. Since there aren't many acupoints on the buttocks, the masseuse's rubbing of my buttocks seemed unrelated to massage. However, I was no longer aware of this. Since the masseuse had massaged bottom, a sweet and warm feeling had gradually grown in my heart, accumulating more and more, and my inner self had been subtly changing. Especially when the masseuse's hands approached my mysterious rear passage, I felt a tremor , and a ripple of heat spread through the deep passage. These sensations traveled through my nerves to my brain, intermittent and fleeting, until that elusive, pleasurable feeling took over my mind, and all my initial worries and shame were long forgotten. Is this what a massage is like? The feeling of a massage is so wonderful! This feeling is so strange; I simply can't find the words to describe or praise it. Just then, the masseuse began massaging my right leg. Just moments before, while I was reveling in the pleasure, the masseuse had swiftly removed her white uniform , revealing her bare upper body and tight-fitting athletic shorts. Then, she quickly picked up my right leg, almost without me noticing the pause. My emotions were rising, my state of excitement was rising, and I was completely ready for a full-blown massage battle. Then, the masseuse seemed to intentionally slow down the massage, leisurely manipulating my right leg. My consciousness was completely focused on the masseuse's hands; as her hands moved up and down, my emotions rose and fell. When her hands returned to my buttocks, playing with my noble buttocks and expensive underwear, I was almost overwhelmed and about to faint. The increasingly intense stimulation made my lower body feel like it was burning. My vagina was already secreting gushing fluids, the moist mucus even reaching my engorged labia. If I were still conscious at this point, I would have noticed that my thin lace panties were already soaked with the fluids from my genitals and the sweat from my body. The already semi-transparent material was practically useless after being soaked; I should even have realized that, from the masseuse's perspective, my most mysterious genital area, covered in fine hair, was now being exposed.

The entire scene unfolded before my eyes.
However, the overall comfort and sensual stimulation had completely clouded my mind, and coupled with
the effects of the drink, I felt increasingly hot and my head was throbbing…
“Would you please sit up with your back to the masseur, esteemed guest?”
Just as I was completely out of control, the masseur stood up from behind me, then bent one leg and gently
knelt behind me.
“Oh…” I completely forgot my situation and position, and did not
object .

As if pursuing the pleasure I had just experienced, I straightened up and numbly knelt on the bed. The masseur
’s hand reached out from behind and supported my waist, gently pulling me towards him. I groaned and leaned back
against the masseur’s chest, my fair and soft back almost pressed against his bronze chest muscles.
“Now we begin the third section, three-dimensional massage…” As he spoke, the masseur’s hands were already on my back,
massaging from my neck to my waist, interspersed with occasional “slap slap” sounds.
I couldn't help but groan, my body swaying with the masseuse's movements.
The masseuse was indeed a highly skilled master; she pinched and massaged almost every acupoint with perfect precision and just
the right amount of pressure. I knelt on the bed, arms hanging down, chest out, stomach in, enjoying the masseuse's high-level
massage as if in a dream, completely oblivious to my surroundings.
What I enjoyed most was when the masseuse asked me to raise my hands above my head, while she sat behind me, spreading
her arms to massage my sides, moving back and forth between my ribs and armpits. During the vigorous movements, her
fingers would sometimes reach forward, occasionally touching the outer edge of my breasts. That unfamiliar, lightning-fast touch made
my mind race, every nerve in my body seemed to stand on end, and my body trembled uncontrollably.
I closed my eyes, not daring to look down. Because I knew myself that my nipples were
shamelessly erect.
But for such provocation, my brain felt no aversion whatsoever. My mind
was already ablaze with desire; on the contrary, I secretly longed for such provocations to come again and again
.
Noticing my attitude, a sly glint flashed in the masseur's eyes, and a barely perceptible
smile appeared on his lips. He understood; at this point, he could finally enjoy this reserved yet voluptuous woman tonight
.
When his hand returned to my armpit, he suddenly reached out and, from behind, embraced
the lower edge of my breasts. To conceal it, he quickly and lightly scratched the delicate skin along the base of my nipples with his fingers.
"Ah…no…" I frowned slightly, instinctively twisting my upper body, my reaction anything but
violent.
My noble breasts being attacked by a strange man—my behavior was completely unlike that of a young woman.
As the masseur's fingers climbed to the tips of my snow-white breasts, circling my two tender, firm nipples
with his nails, I trembled, raised my head, and leaned into the masseur's embrace.
Smelling my intoxicating fragrance, the masseur finally smiled with satisfaction. He was certain that tonight,
this introverted young woman would completely submit to the manipulation of this stranger.
The masseur confidently kneaded my nipples with his index finger and thumb, pressing his erect penis, bulging like
a tent under his underwear, tightly against my buttocks, the tent's bulge gently rubbing against my sweaty
lace panties.
"Ah!..." I shamefully thrust my breasts higher, chasing the pleasure on my nipples, while
secretly raising my round, white buttocks, twisting them annoyingly, as if wanting to swallow the masseur's penis into
my cleft.
"Now for the fourth section..." the masseur whispered in my ear in a devilish voice, "Tongue
massage..."
He then put his arm around my shoulders and turned my body towards him. Just as I was feeling empty and
lost from the sudden loss of touch, the masseur's lips pressed against mine, kissing me deeply.
"No need to rush, enjoy me slowly..." the masseur thought smugly, already
confident of victory .
Sitting face-to-face, I was gently embraced and drawn into a near-suffocating kiss.
Just as the masseur was kneading my buttocks and probing deeper with his tongue, I suddenly snapped back to
reality. This embarrassing position reminded me of my husband—the last
vestige of memory that kept me alert.
I struggled to open my eyes, instinctively covering my exposed breasts with my hands. As a married woman,
naked from the waist up, my full breasts prominently displayed, kneeling on an unfamiliar massage bed, being
embraced and kissed passionately by a strange man, I suddenly felt embarrassed and uncomfortable after opening my eyes.
The masseur was just a hotel masseuse. Why was I sitting there obediently, letting him do as he pleased,
just
like before? My mind was filled with confusion and even thoughts of retreat. Why was I
accepting this massage? Why was I sitting in front of a strange man wearing only thin lace panties? Why was I
shamefully covering my breasts with my hands?
Deep down, I had considered pushing him away more than once, but for some
reason , I couldn't. A swelling, hot sensation was rising in my mind again, and
the comfort from the massage and the slight, shy pleasure I felt made me unable to open my mouth to
stop the masseur.
Moreover, with the masseur's tight, passionate kisses on my lips, it was impossible for me to open my mouth even if I wanted to. "
This is just a relaxing massage and adjustment, meant to relax the whole body and release suppressed energy. It
's beneficial and harmless to the body," the masseur had solemnly declared to me before the massage.
Since I hadn't refused the massage before, how could I stop the masseuse halfway through? Although
this "tongue massage" was much more sensual than the previous massage, I hadn't been able to refuse. If I
suddenly , the masseuse might misunderstand and think I was complaining about the technique. Would that hurt her feelings?
Thinking of this, I closed my eyes again, involuntarily immersing myself once more in those waves of strange and wonderful
sensations . I don't even know why such thoughts came to mind. I was in a very awkward and ashamed
situation, yet I still had the mind to think about others. I was indeed acting strangely today; not only was my whole body hot, but...
Strange thoughts raced through my mind. What was wrong with me?
As I savored the sensation of the man's tongue caressing my mouth, I sighed inwardly, lost in a daze.
Clearly, under the influence of my hazy thoughts and sensual impulses, I had completely forgotten one fact:
the masseur 's massage had far exceeded normal boundaries. As a married woman, I had every reason to refuse this
erotic massage. This was a thought I had never dared to entertain.
Suddenly, the masseur's lips released mine.
"Honorable guest, please relax," he said softly, blowing warm breath. "Don't be nervous,
you are enjoying the services of our masseuses..."
Still reveling in the passionate kiss, I was about to open my eyes when the masseur suddenly pressed his lips to my
ear gently blew on it.
"Ah..." I trembled slightly.
The masseur's lips lightly touched the edge of my ear, while his tongue licked it. The sweet sensation spread like
waves from my ear throughout my body.
Compared to the subtle massage just now, the pleasure evoked by this method was more subtle. In a sense
, this kind of pleasure, lurking within the body and arising from the mind, has a more powerful
impact than a direct, overt experience.
The masseuse's lips slowly kissed down from my ear, all the way to my snow-white neck and soft shoulders.
After leaving a series of soft "sizzling" sounds, those hot lips swept across my breasts, moving towards my nipples,
even touching my hands that had been protecting them.
"Oh..." I couldn't help but tilt my head back and groan, feeling my breasts about to be attacked, every sensual nerve in my
body tense up. Although my hands were covering my breasts,
they were almost powerless, just symbolically placed there, ready to be released at the slightest touch.
However, to my surprise, the masseuse's lips did not push my hands aside to invade my
breasts , but stopped on the skin below my neck.
The masseuse's hands suddenly released my waist and slid down to my round buttocks.
"Sir, you have a wonderful figure!" The masseuse lifted her head from my breasts, "Of
all the clients , Madam, your buttocks are the most beautiful! Be confident, okay..." Perhaps to relax
my tense nerves, the masseuse said this with a deliberate smile, while simultaneously opening her large palms and gently kneading
my plump buttocks through my underwear.
"Really..." I answered blankly, my attention completely focused on my breasts, as if
nervously anticipating the masseuse's attack.
"Please lean back, okay?" the masseuse said, bringing her face close to my chest again,
speaking as if exhaling in front of my hands tightly protecting my breasts.
"Oh..." Feeling the masseuse's hands on my waist again, I
leaned back without thinking, following her movements.
"Relax... Your posture can be even more graceful..."
Despite her constant reassurances, my nerves remained tense. The longer the masseuse delayed her
advances on my breasts, the more focused my nerves became on them. My body arched backward, but my firm
breasts remained perky and shapely. If my hands hadn't been tightly covering them, the masseuse
would likely showered me with compliments.
Finally, the masseuse lowered her head and began her assault on my breasts with her tongue. When her tongue touched my hands
protecting my breasts, I shuddered. My fingers, as if about to collapse, completely relaxed their
defenses. Between those practically nonexistent fingers, pink nipples peeked out.
However, the masseuse wasn't attacking those pink nipples, nor my snow-white breasts,
but rather my hands, which were barely pressed against my breasts.
For some reason, amidst the tension and trembling, I felt a slight sense of relief. If the masseuse
had attacked my breasts, I would have been utterly panicked. I seemed to have forgotten my position. As
a married woman, I had absolutely no reason to sit naked in front of a strange man, no need to accept
a massage, and no need to constantly worry about when the masseur would invade my breasts, buttocks, or some other more
bothersome organ.
However, at that moment, my mind was completely occupied by a burning sensation, leaving no
room for any resistance.
The masseur greedily took my fingers into his mouth, sucking on each one, exposing my breasts to his smug
gaze . However, his hot, sticky tongue didn't attack my breasts, but instead
licked from under my arms, from my fingertips down my elbows to my armpits.
"Ahhhhhh…" As if an electric current had passed through me, my body suddenly trembled, and I lost my
balance, collapsing flat on the bed.
The masseur, wearing only athletic shorts, seized the opportunity, bracing himself on the bed and pressing down
on my nearly naked body, continuing his licking.
I never knew my armpits and elbows were so sensitive. The masseur's tongue
had inadvertently unlocked previously unknown erogenous zones!
As the masseuse's tongue glided inch by inch across the smooth, white skin of my arm, erogenous zones I had never paid attention to before
were being discovered one by one. At that moment, I finally understood that what could bring the body a tremendous sensual impact was
n't limited to the breasts and vulva; behind the ears, the neck, the armpits, and even the limbs, all harbored extremely sensitive reflex points. However, at that moment, I had no time to marvel at this new discovery, because the masseuse's tongue and lips were relentlessly teasing these areas, creating unprecedented pleasure. These were areas my husband had never caressed or stimulated before. When the masseuse's tongue slipped into my armpit, licking my light armpit hair, I couldn't help but scream . Every cell in my body felt like it was melting; this fresh and intense, wondrous sensation almost lifted me to the sky, a wonderful shock spreading through my veins. My already full and mature breasts now swelled even more shamelessly. The masseur occasionally glanced at my hard, slightly reddish nipples as he licked them, a sly smile flashing across his face. "Guest, to let you experience the essence of a hot spring massage..." the masseur's mouth left my armpits and moved to my chest, licking down my stomach while making slurping sounds, "Next..."

"Your service...you must enjoy it while crying...and your ass must keep moving..."
"Ah! ~~~" I cried out as I felt the masseuse's tongue slide across my lower abdomen and continue its downward invasion
.
As the masseuse opened her eyes triumphantly, her gaze once again falling on my upper body, looking at my ashamed face
between , her tongue had already touched the top edge of my lace panties.
She opened her mouth, bit the top edge of the expensive panties, and gently pulled them down,
revealing my thick, dark pubic hair.

Although the panties were still on my lower body, because the masseuse's mouth had torn off a large section of the front of the panties,
my pubic hair was completely exposed.
Feeling my pubic hair suddenly exposed to the air, I felt a chill run down my spine. A tremor ran through me, every nerve seemed
to , and instinctively my hands reached for my genitals. But my hands stopped just as they reached my lower abdomen,
as if I had lost my courage.
As a traditional and self-respecting wife, to now expose my pubic hair to a stranger, I didn't even have the courage
to cover ; I couldn't explain why I felt this way. But I didn't need to worry about
anything afterward, because as my mind grew hotter and hotter, my ability to think gradually faded, and I didn't need to
explain .
The masseur, his mouth nibbling at the top of my underwear, smugly swept his gaze over the thick, dark pubic
hair , so close... The distance made the rosy valley hidden deep within the pubic hair clearly visible.
From the engorged and moist labia, the masseur could already feel
the heat .
If he were to penetrate her now, this woman would surely accept it gladly! the masseur thought to himself.
But the masseur didn't intend to do so immediately; he was waiting for a better opportunity, to drive this
beautiful young woman even more wild! To make her abandon all dignity and become her complete plaything!
Suddenly, he released her mouth and loosened her panties. The elastic of the band caused the top of the panties to immediately pull
back, and my wide-open vulva returned to its original position. Underneath my underwear, however, this concealment served no purpose other than to intensify
the man's desire.
Before I could understand the masseur's intentions, his mouth was already on my lower body, his
tongue gently sliding down my right leg. "Ahhhhh!" The sudden shock made me cry out again
. Unable to release this intense surge, I could only cover my mouth with one hand and desperately twist my seductive body.
Just as I was struggling to bear this indescribable pleasure, the masseur had already licked my ankle, opening his
mouth to take my delicate little toe into his mouth, sucking and licking it with his tongue, biting each toe one by one.
" Ohh
... The thick, dark pubic hair was almost completely exposed to the air. As the masseuse's tongue moved upwards from my feet, every nerve in my body became completely aroused. When that serpentine tongue reached the inside of my thigh, I cried as if I were about to collapse, biting my fingers until they turned purple, while my lower body writhed wildly. In my mind, I had completely lost the last shred of willpower. The masseuse pressed her hands against my waist, her tongue relentlessly moving along my thighs towards the bulge . "Ahhhhhh!" Just as I was so nervous my whole body was about to boil, the masseuse's tongue unexpectedly moved past my wet, aroused lower body, to my smooth abdomen, and then licked towards my high, firm breasts. As I trembled, the masseuse's tongue reached the lower part of my breasts, lightly and quickly rubbing the lower edge of the nipples with her nose and lips, causing my breasts to tremble slightly. Those round, firm breasts stood erect more sharply than ever before, the areolas expanding red, and the nipples already hard. My chest felt like a volcano ready to erupt from lust. "Whoever you are, please play with the masseuse's breasts as much as you want! And hold onto the masseuse's buttocks tightly, and ravage the masseuse to your heart's content !" "I cried out in my heart. I was completely overwhelmed by lust. However, the masseuse wouldn't give in so easily. Instead of immediately caressing and playing with my breasts, she lightly touched my right nipple with the tip of her tongue while gently pinching and shaking my left nipple with two fingers. This teasing, playing hard to get, was undoubtedly cruel to a mature young woman. In less than a few seconds, the sensuality hidden deep within my breasts was fully awakened, with a hint of excitement, a hint of pleasure, a hint of greed. My lust had become so intense that it was beyond my control. Feeling my nipples, now even more erect after being numbed and engorged, I trembled and shook my head from side to side, letting out a moan. " I screamed. Just as I was about to succumb to madness, the masseur's tongue suddenly left my breasts and, with surprising speed, slid from my lower abdomen down to my genitals, landing on my silk thong. As if thrown into the air, I screamed, my spread thighs tensing taut. When the tip of his tongue reached the downy hair and labia hidden beneath my thong, my screams stopped abruptly, replaced by violent convulsions. From that moment on, I completely forgot my celebrity status; my mind was filled only with the masseur, this strange man. His tongue, through my thong, teased my almost fully exposed vulva. "Ah..." I tensed my lower body, passionately lifting my waist high off the bed, as if trying to clamp the masseur's head between my legs, afraid that his lips would leave my precious vulva. When the masseur's tongue, through the silk fabric, reached the clitoris on my honeypot and circled , I convulsed wildly on the bed, a numbing and sweet sensation rapidly spreading from that point to every corner of my body.

With my final, pitiful cry, a gush of scalding liquid gushed from my body, splashing onto my
thick pubic hair.
Watching me reach the climax of foreplay, the masseur, a victorious smile spreading across his face, removed his shorts.
He straightened up, opened his arms, and pulled me to a sitting position on the bed, pulling me into his embrace. Listening to my
moans of climax, he whispered in my ear, "My dear lady, please perk up,
okay?
Now, the real show begins."
"Oh… masseur…" I slumped weakly against his shoulder,
uttering .
"Please stand up, and in the most alluring position, remove your underwear…" the masseur said with a smile, "Then,
while calling out the name of your husband or dream lover, and looking at this southern peak of my penis, slowly straddle it
…"
The masseur parted my legs, deeply inserting his thick penis into the star's yearning and
wet sacred place. Soon, with the masseur's frenzied thrusting, my moans grew louder and louder. I was
no just pretending; I seemed to be caught up in the intense pleasure the masseur was giving me. What my husband couldn't give me,
a stranger was now giving me.
Oh!! The sounds of thrusting and pounding filled the air as the masseur thrust forcefully without restraint. But
I was too beautiful, so beautiful, with my satisfied expression, my melodious sounds, and the performance of my
bouncing breasts. He felt he was about to lose control.
To achieve even greater pleasure for himself, and to make the young woman beneath him his
woman, his sex slave, the masseur turned my body around, confidently admiring my snow-white buttocks,
and muttered to himself: Beautiful, so beautiful! With that, he thrust his penis in hard again.
I seemed unprepared; with the masseur's vigorous thrusting, my body suddenly arched forward, my head thrown
high , and I let out what seemed like a cry of pleasure.
Hearing this cry, the masseuse began to thrust, reaching forward to tightly grasp my full breasts,
kneading them wantonly.
"Ah, so good, baby, you're doing a fantastic job, you really are a horny mature woman!"
"No, masseuse, no," the masseuse ignored me, continuing her rapid thrusting,
sweat onto my white back.
I began to hear her breathing grow heavier, and felt her penis, thrusting into my vagina,
growing larger and hotter. I knew she was about to ejaculate.
"No, don't ejaculate inside!!" I cried out in terror. The masseuse ignored me, gripping my full breasts tightly,
preventing me from escaping.
"Almost there, almost there!" the masseuse shouted.
"No, please, no!!" I cried out.
The masseuse had now entered a frenzied state, roaring angrily, her hands gripping my breasts tightly,
her upper body pressing down on my back, thrusting her penis as deep as possible. The masseur ejaculated, ejaculating
deep inside me.
I never imagined that I would be taken by one of my husband's most insignificant employees, and that it would be voluntary.

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