Young Wife Gets a Sensual Massage (First Cuckolding Book 2)

by Matt Coolomon

  Young Wife Gets

  a Sensual Massage

  FIRST CUCKOLDING

  (Volume 2 Anny Shared)

  Matt Coolomon

  Adults Only

  High level erotic content

  Copyright © 2015 Matt Coolomon

  All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form, without the written consent of the copyright holder.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any real life person is coincidental.

  CHAPTERS: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

  Other titles by Matt Coolomon:

  Sweet Catherine’s First Experiences

  Sweet Catherine is a Pretty Plaything

  Sweet Catherine Can’t Say No

  Sweet Catherine Really Likes Men

  Sweet Catherine’s Open Marriage

  Sweet Catherine at the Gentlemen’s Club

  Glory Hole Wife

  Party Girl Shared

  Married Couple Visit a Swinger Club

  Young Wife Gets a Sensual Massage

  Wife Shared at the Lake

  Wife Tries Oral at a Party

  Young Wife Shared on a Desert Island

  Wife Offered to the House Guest

  Wife Shared with Dirty Old Men

  Girlfriend Agrees to Sex with his Buddies

  Bride-to-be Tries Other Men

  Wife Tries Flashing and More

  1

  "Hey, I'm not as conservative as everyone thinks. I've done stuff, you know?"

  "Oh really! What have you done?"

  Jake shrugs at his wife. "I rode a Harley."

  Anny is twirling her curls, her pretty brown hair strewn across Jake's lap. She glares up at him. "Bullshit. When?"

  “About a year before we met. I hired one for a week and road-tripped up the coast."

  Anny's mouth is hanging open. "No way! A Harley Davidson motorcycle? You can't ride a motorcycle."

  Jake's wallet is on the bedside table. He takes his license from it and gives it to Anny.

  She studies it.

  "The R stands for rider," he tells her.

  "And what does HC mean?"

  "Heavy Combination. That's a semi-trailer."

  Anny's glaring again. "You can drive a semi?"

  Jake nods.

  "And a motorcycle? A frigging Harley?... Who ARE you?"

  "Bond.... Jake Bond," Jake explains in his best Sean Connery voice.

  Anny laughs. "Geez who did I marry? How come you never said anything? What the hell else have you done that I should know about, Jake? Or should I start calling you Jackal? You're turning me on."

  Jake strokes her hair. They're still in bed at 11 in the morning. His wife of nearly 2 years is the only woman in the world. She's beautiful. He can't believe she said yes and married him.

  "I did a bungee jump off a bridge once."

  Anny just stares at him for a minute. "Is that true? The Harley? A bungee jump?"

  Jake shrugs again. "Yep."

  Anny nods. "Okay.... Let's have sex."

  Jake feels his face heat. "Now? It's the middle of the day, Anny."

  “I don’t care. Give me sex.” Anny scoots up the bed to lie beside Jake on top of the covers. She pulls her sleep tee off and tosses it away. She’s naked now. “Come on….” She tugs at the front of his pyjama shorts. “And take off your shirt too.”

  Jake gets up on his knees and pulls his tee shirt off. “Can I close the curtains?”

  “It’s the 22nd floor, Jake. No one can see in.”

  Jake pushes his shorts down, his cock firm at the sight of his wife lying there, twirling her curls again. She’s smiling cheekily. She knows nudity in the middle of the day makes him nervous. Riding a Harley is nothing compared to this. Her nudity is perfectly fine – his own is the problem. He’s not exactly built. He’s basically the geek everyone thinks he is, although he used to challenge himself with dares every now and then and tried a few things.

  He lies next to his wife and touches her. She meets his kiss and lifts his hand from her belly to her breast. The hotel room bed is firm and silent. They make love with the balcony doors open and doze off cuddled under a sheet with the sound of the ocean a low background rumble up there in the sky.

  Jake opens his eyes when he feels the sheet being pulled away. He covers his privates. Anny is off to the bathroom wearing their bedclothes as a big wrap around dress and giggling back at him. He pulls on clothing and finds her out on the balcony sipping coffee and still wearing the white bed sheet.

  “Oh I could live here, Jake! Do you have any other surprises for me? Are you secretly filthy rich and making me live in our shoebox apartment as some sort of test?”

  “I wish, Anny…. I don’t want to go home tomorrow either. This was such a great idea.”

  “I know. Except now we’re going to have to pay for it over the next 12 months,” Anny says with a giggle.

  “I can get overtime. We’ll get it done quicker than that. And then we should save up for a second honeymoon.”

  Anny cuddles close. “Really?”

  “Yeah. I’m just sorry it took so long to have our first one. I wish we could have done something like this when we got married.”

  “Don’t even worry about it, Jake. I wouldn’t change a single thing about our ditzy little park wedding and one night at The Crown. I loved it.”

  Jake smiles and meets his wife’s kiss. “Yeah – plus we won 200 at the casino in the morning. That bit was cool.”

  “You mean I won 200. You lost 20 bucks as I recall.”

  “Well what’s mine’s yours – wins – losses….”

  “Secrets!” Anny scolds. “I can’t believe I just found out you’ve done shit like that. How come you never give it back to the guys? None of THEM can drive a frigging semi.”

  “I know, but I’m not even good at it. I just did a course and the hours for something different to do. I was kind of thinking about getting a job driving one day, but I can actually use my licence at work. We get semis sometimes, which I could test drive and that if I told Mr Kent I have a licence, I suppose.”

  “So do it! Geez, Jake!”

  “I know…. I will when we get back, okay?”

  Anny huffs. “Huh! That’s frigging tomorrow! What are we going to do with our last day, which is half over already?”

  Jake gets a flash of an idea. He cuddles up behind his wife looking out at the ocean and nuzzles her neck. “I say we do something daring.”

  She giggles. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

  “No – you don’t get to choose a dare, Anny. It chooses you and you have to be brave or chicken.”

  Anny turns and slips her arms around Jake’s shoulders. “I’m brave too.”

  “And what have you done that’s brave?”

  She kisses his lips. “Nothing yet. But I’m ready for whatever.”

  “Okay. Do you want to know how I ended up on the Harley? I closed my eyes and pointed to it.”

  “Oh yeah? How exactly?”

  “Come on.” Jake takes his wife’s hand and leads her back inside. “Sit,” he says, directing her to the dining table. She sits down. He grabs the big, glossy holiday attraction magazine from beside the phone and sits with her. “This is how…. You close your eyes, flick to a page, point, and have to do whatever it says.”

  Anny’s smiling gleefully. “But what if there’s no time or it costs too much?”

  “No excuses. It took me two months to get a bike licence and practice before I hired the Harley…. I say if the first pick will take time, we have to work t
owards getting it done. Then we have more picks until we find something we can do right now as well.”

  “Oh okay! I like that! Together or one each?” Anny asks excitedly.

  “Um…. One each!”

  “Yes!” she cries, clapping and rubbing her hands together. “You first! And no peeping!”

  Jake laughs. He takes the big magazine. It’s about fifty pages of every imaginable ocean resort activity. There’s some pretty scary stuff but mostly all just fun and exciting. He closes his eyes and quickly flicks to about the middle then stabs a page with his finger and has a look. “Awesome! The wax museum!”

  “Oh that’s too easy!” Anny cries. “It’s not fair.”

  Jake’s reading. “20 bucks to get in. Tours start every hour. Perfect…. Your turn, Anny.”

  “But that’s not even daring!”

  “Hey it says here there’s a dungeon of torture – dark, confined space, unsuited to those with medical conditions…. You know I don’t like confined spaces. That sounds scary enough to me.”

  “Oh – give me the book!” Anny says, shaking her head incredulously. “That’ll scare me more than you, Jackal.” She waves her fingers, puffing a couple of short breaths in preparation. “I’ll show you how this is done,” she declares, closes her eyes, and flicks through and stabs a page. She squeals.

  Jake tries to get a look but she shuts the magazine before he can. “What? What did you pick, Anny?”

  “Oh my god. I want another pick.”

  “No! There’s no getting out of it. What is it? Come on – show me.”

  She opens the magazine, her finger still pointing to the item she’s chosen. “Um…. Are you sure I can’t have another pick?” she asks, grimacing jokingly.

  “Ooh,” Jake agrees. “That’s an interesting one.”

  “Interesting?” Anny moves her finger to reveal the full advertisement. It’s a sensual massage service. “That’s not therapeutic, Jake – that’s like a sexy one.”

  “Yeah, I can see that…. Sven and Mystique…. I wonder if they do it as a couple or you have to pick which one.”

  “I’m thinking Sven,” Anny says, giggling. “Mystique looks way scary.”

  “It’s a hundred dollars – 30 minutes in your hotel room….” Jake gulps. “I wonder what sensual actually means.”

  “You must get to say HOW sensual you want the massage to be,” Anny suggests.

  “Yeah, I guess…. And as long as I can be here when it’s happening,” Jake adds, pondering the idea of some big massage guy touching Anny. It’s a weird and completely alien notion but not entirely negative. He doesn’t understand the tingle of excitement he’s feeling.

  “Well I’m game,” Anny says, sparking up. “I say we – actually, no – I say YOU book me a semi-sensual massage for about 6 and we go check out this wax museum.”

  2

  “Yes, sir. Sven is highly experienced. The level of sensuality will be to your personal satisfaction.”

  “Oh no, it’s not for me. It’s for my wife,” Jake explains again.

  “Certainly, sir. 7PM sharp. Please ask your wife to be showered and ready, as the 30 minutes begins at 7.” It’s a woman’s voice on the phone, Mystique, apparently.

  “What should my wife wear, please?” Anny is tugging at Jake’s arm with the question.

  “The lower portion of her underwear and a bath towel will be fine, sir. Hair up if it’s long.”

  “Oh okay…. Thank you.”

  Jake hangs up.

  “Well?” Anny asks excitedly.

  “She said to be showered and ready with the lower portion of your underwear and a towel wrapped around…. She said it can be as sensual as we say.”

  Anny gawks. “Wow! No bra! Topless!”

  “Well surely you don’t have to. I don’t see why you can’t wear something to keep covered a bit.”

  “Oh – you mean to chicken out and wear shorts and a top?” Anny teases. “Is that how it works, Jake? Are you sure that wasn’t a Harley bicycle?”

  Jake laughs, the burst of nervous excitement settling in his stomach as his wife teases some more about HIM being the one who looks like chickening out of her dare. He’s actually a little bit used to the looks Anny always gets. She’s 23, pretty, slender and has nice prominent boobs. She always wears sexy clothes – short skirts, dresses and shorts – pretty tops that usually show cleavage. It’s mid-summer and they’re strolling along a busy footpath with the sand and beach right there. Lots of girls are in skimpy bikinis and tiny skirts.

  Jake had to learn to accept other guys checking out his girlfriend and then wife or go crazy worrying about it. In getting used to it, he’s come to feel pretty good about himself – a sense of self-confidence having grown to a point where the geek banter now bounces the hell off. And he doesn’t feel the need to brag about other things he’s done like the hot-lap in the V8 super car and flying across state one Saturday to take on the freakiest new roller coaster ride in the country. He finds himself quietly listening to the guys rave about stuff they’ve never done and laugh about the idea that he ever would. And all the while he’s sitting there with the hottest woman in the frigging world while they jack off over nude celebrity pics online.

  “Well here we are,” Anny announces. They’re at the wax museum. They’ve walked past a few times over the week they’ve been there and Jake has been curious to have a look inside.

  They’re right on time for the 4 O’clock tour. It’s a group of twenty or so adults and kids. The upper level of the building is a whole lot of modern and famous people, eerily life-like. Down below is history.

  “Oh my god they’re all so small,” Anny whispers. “It says they’re actual life-size.”

  They’re looking at King Henry VIII. He’s short with a full size head, kind of square.

  “I guess people were just short back then,” Jake muses.

  The tour moves on into a dungeon with depictions of all the old methods of torture. Anny’s clinging close now. Jake’s freaking out about the low ceiling and sense of being in a cave or something. The scenes are ghastly and quite fascinating – intestines being extracted while the victim is still alive gets his vote as about the worst of it. He’s happy to see daylight and get out of there.

  “Let’s have sea food at that bar again,” Anny says, still clinging to Jake’s arm, or more so cuddling to him. It’s early enough to get a table outside, so they sit watching the sun lower over the ocean while they eat their meal and have a couple of beers.

  Their hotel is only a short stroll along the beach but it’s getting on 6:30. “Come on, before I chicken out,” Anny says.

  “Okay,” Jake agrees, taking her hand. “He’s still feeling nervous about this, but that weird tinge of positive excitement is there too.

  They stroll without talking much. Anny’s hand is sweaty. Both of their hands are. It’s 6:45 when they close the door of their apartment and turn to each other. Anny peers up. “So panties and a towel…. Okay. I can do this…. Can you knock on the bathroom door when he gets here, please? I’ll wait a few minutes so you can make sure it’s not going to be too sensual.”

  “Definitely!” Jake assures. “I’ll talk to the guy and make sure, Anny.”

  She leaves him with a kiss. He waits. The shower is still running at 6:55 when the intercom buzzes. He picks up the phone. “Yes?”

  “Totally Sensual…. I’m here for a 7PM appointment.”

  “Yes,” Jake says and buzzes the guy in. A moment later there’s a knock on the door. He quickly goes to the bathroom and knocks for Anny.

  “Okay,” she calls back, sounding decidedly nervous now.

  Jake’s heart is pounding. He opens the door to the guy from the advertisement. “Sven?”

  “Or just plain Steven if you prefer,” is the reply, delivered with a big, white smile.

  Jake chuckles, his nerves causing that. He lets the guy in. He’s in tight white shorts and an undersized sky-blue tank top. Holding a large sports bag, he
’s looking around. “The appointment said it would be a female client?”

  “Oh yes. Definitely! My wife’s just finishing her shower.”

  “Very good…. So…?” Steven offers his hand.

  Jake shakes it. “I’m Jake. My wife’s Anny.” He thumbs over his shoulder toward the bathroom.

  “You look nervous, Jake…. Relax. I’m here professionally…. What’s your situation?”

  “My situation?”

  Steven smiles. “Prank? Marriage spice-up? Birthday treat? Dare? Just curious?”

  “A Dare,” Jake admits, chewing a grin.

  Steven unzips his bag and rolls out a mat in the middle of the carpeted lounge area. “Dares are fun,” he says. “I like doing dares.”

  “Yeah, but we don’t want this to go too far.”

  “Ah! The limit. Yes, best to establish the limit before we start. As a professional, I can provide anything up to and including full service. If full service was a 10 on a sliding scale, what number would you pick for your wife’s massage, Jake? Name it.”

  “About 5.”

  Steven chuckles. “5’s a good choice.” He has a hand towel and bottle of massage oil set ready for use. “If I were daring my partner to a sensual massage, I’d go with a 5 myself.”

  “Oh yeah? And what do others pick?” Jake sits up at the breakfast bar, kind of out of the way, he figures, but with a full view.

  “You get some 3s and 4s, the occasional 7, which is getting pretty friendly.”

  “Okay, well we dared ourselves, so anything less than 5 would be a fail, I guess.”

  “I agree,” Steven says, taking a drink from his water bottle. He’s tall and very well built. Jake is feeling pretty comfortable, though – kind of dazed by what seems quite surreal, but the guy seems okay.

  The bathroom door opens and Anny approaches with her big white towel wrapped tight. She’s smiling through a blush. “Hi I’m Anny.”

  “Steven…. Pleased to meet you, Anny…. Come on and we’ll get started.”

  “On my front?” Anny asks. She glances at Jake. He smiles back encouragingly.

  Steven positions her lying flat on her front and immediately begins working her calves. Jake watches. Anny’s face is turned away. The strong hands rubbing her move up to her thighs. They work down the outsides and up the back, thumbs pressing in between and flaying across, brushing the bottom of the towel. Jakes nervous excitement lifts in his chest when the towel is tugged up slightly, with hands now working Anny’s right hip and touching her bottom. Steven moves to her left hip and does the same. He’s talking softly to Anny. She’s murmuring back. It’s 7:12 already.