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Ovarian maintenance 

Ever since my wife exposed herself to the hemorrhoid doctor, she's become increasingly open. Her desire for sexual stimulation seems almost obsessive, and she rarely reaches orgasm during regular sex. One day she told me, "Lately, sex hasn't been very satisfying because I'm not lubricated. It might be something wrong with my ovaries or endocrine system. A close friend of hers owns a beauty salon that offers ovarian maintenance services, and I'd like to try it." Seeing that she was actually concerned about our sex life, why shouldn't I let her go? The next day after get off work, I accompanied my wife to the beauty salon. It was a salon exclusively for women. Inside, there was a sign at the entrance saying "Men Not Allowed," but the main hall had Wi-Fi, a TV, and various magazines. I guessed it was for men to pass the time while waiting for the women; indeed, there were a few men sitting on the sofas playing on their phones. Just then, my wife's friend came out, saw us, and immediately came over to greet us, playfully teasing my wife: "It's been so long! You've become even more attractive! You've got all the curves in the right places!" She glanced at me with a lewd grin and said, "You're taking good care of yourself, aren't you?" After some flirting, I was planning to wait in the lobby, but my wife's best friend said, "Since we're so familiar, I'll give you a 20% discount. And the regular price is VIP service, you can even have the service in a VIP room. Male guests don't need to wait in the VIP room because it's fully equipped and has partitions, so it won't disturb the technicians." Finally, my wife's best friend asked if we wanted a male or female technician. My wife and I were immediately surprised; they even had male technicians! My wife's best friend quickly said, "If you're shy, you can use a female technician, but I still recommend a male technician. First, male technicians have more strength, and they're more attentive than female technicians. Also, all our male technicians here are graduates of professional medical schools. Knowing you were coming, I specially reserved the most technicians for you." Don't worry, the male masseuses here don't treat women like women at all. They're completely indifferent to women's bodies, just like male gynecologists. My wife and I agreed because she recommended it so strongly; after all, I was just sitting next to her, so he couldn't do anything. My wife's best friend told her to take a shower first—VIPs are different; the bathrooms are private, not public. My wife wrapped herself in a towel and came out, then lay flat on the massage bed. A little while later, the masseur arrived. He was quite handsome, a young and attractive guy; no wonder so many people booked him. Sitting at the other end of the partition, I suddenly felt a cuckold's desire and secretly observed my wife's changes through the partition. My wife and the masseur exchanged glances and greeted each other; perhaps because of my presence, they didn't say much. Then the masseur began the service, starting with an oil massage. After applying essential oil to his hands, the masseur began massaging her back. Without a word, the technician slowly untied my wife's towel, revealing her slender waist and plump buttocks. I glanced at my wife, my face involuntarily turning red. The technician, on the other hand, showed no expression, probably because he'd seen and touched her so many times. His hands skillfully roamed over my wife's back, occasionally sliding across the bulge between her waist and buttocks. After a while, he removed her hands from her chest and massaged her breasts, which were now flat on the bed. A comfortable expression appeared on my wife's face. After massaging her upper body, the technician picked up some essential oil and slowly poured it onto my wife's buttocks, then rubbed it evenly with both hands. Next, he parted my wife's legs and gently ran a finger across her anus. My wife seemed prepared, as her buttocks slightly lifted to cooperate with the technician's movement. I could imagine the contraction and relaxation of her anus as the technician's finger traced its path. Seeing this, my penis couldn't help but get hard. Then the masseur pressed his thumb against my wife's anus and began massaging, but it was just a massage; he didn't penetrate her. After about two minutes, the anal massage ended, and he started a regular Thai leg massage, which I'll skip here as it's nothing special. After massaging her back, the masseur asked my wife to turn around so he could massage her front. Since he had already touched her lower body, what was a little more frontal massage? My wife was completely relaxed and turned around. The masseur then took some essential oil and kept sprinkling it on my wife's breasts. Then he started playing with my wife's breasts, occasionally pinching her nipples with his fingers. Under the masseur's massage, my wife's breasts became swollen and her nipples became erect, and her breathing became rapid, her breasts rising and falling with her breath. She seemed to be enjoying it more than when I was sucking her nipples. After massaging her breasts for about ten minutes, the masseur took two nipple covers and put them on my wife's nipples, supposedly to keep them rosy. After the massage, the technician pushed a machine aside. I figured she was going to do ovarian maintenance next. She poured some liquid into the machine—I couldn't identify it—and the front of the machine consisted of a tubing for delivering the liquid and something that looked like a penis. She started testing the machine, and surprisingly, the penis-like head rotated and slowly ejected the liquid she'd poured in. My wife actually spread her legs, and the technician, seeing this, smeared some of the overflowing liquid on the dildo. Actually, she probably didn't need to; my wife was probably already very wet. The technician slowly inserted the dildo and turned it on. My wife was completely asleep, and the machine vibrated involuntarily when it started. Then the technician covered my wife with a blanket and gave her the remote control. Apparently, the machine had adjustable settings. After explaining, she washed her hands and left. After the technician left, I went to check on my wife. She was completely absorbed in the vibrations of the dildo, and when she saw me, she closed her eyes shyly. I asked, "Wife, is it comfortable?" Wife: "Mmm, it's okay." I grabbed the remote and turned it to the highest setting. Wife: "No, honey, no!" Me: "What do you mean no? This is what feels good." Lying on the bed, my wife couldn't resist me and could only let me do as I pleased. As the vibrations increased, my wife started twisting her hips and couldn't help but poke her nipples. She said, "Honey, help me insert that thing deeper." I went over to look and saw that my wife's genitals were already very wet; I didn't know if it was vaginal fluid or some kind of drug. I picked up the device and started thrusting it into my wife like we were having sex, saying, "Wife, if it feels good, just moan. There's no one else here." My obedient wife started moaning unrestrainedly. She said, "Honey, it feels so good! Faster, faster!" After about ten minutes of thrusting, my wife reached orgasm, her whole body trembling, and her legs clamped tightly around the device and my hands, her face turning very red. For the next five minutes, my wife lay there limply, enjoying the vibrations and ejaculation of the dildo. I don't know if she had a second orgasm. My wife even flinched when the masseuse returned to remove the dildo. She lay on the bed for about ten minutes before getting up to shower, get dressed, and leave. When her best friend came to see her off, she asked how the service was. My wife blushed and said, "You must get massages often." Her best friend replied, "Of course." [The End]

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