My wife Sarah and I had been talking about her getting massages at home for a while. Sarah has a medical condition that leaves her painfully tight in her legs and rear and regular massages are part of her therapy. I suggested at-home massages to make it more convenient for her in the hopes that she could get more regular relief from her discomfort.

I also thought it would be really hot to watch, she agreed but we were concerned that we might have trouble finding a masseuse who would go along with that. And since that wasn’t really the point, we dropped the idea.

We both made some calls and talked to a few people who would come to our house. It was a little more expensive than we had hoped, and as she had already pre-purchased massages at her favorite salons, we decided it would have to wait a bit.

A few weeks later, Sarah was in her office on the phone when I got home from work, she didn’t know I had come in. I decided not to disturb her and let her finish her call. I wasn’t eaves-dropping, but when I heard her say “Ok, sounds good! See you here next Thursday at 1”, my interest was piqued. But I didn’t ask her about it right away and after a few minutes I forgot all about it.

Later that night, she went to the bathroom and left her phone laying on the table beside the sofa. The call I had overheard earlier flashed into my head, so I picked up her phone, flipped to the call log and memorized the number of the person she was talking to when I got home. By the time she got back, I had laid the phone back down and she didn’t suspect I had been spying on her.

The next morning at work, I Googled the number and found that it belonged to a female masseuse who has a small studio near us. I found her web site and saw that she specializes in at-home, deep tissue massages.

When I had first suggested this idea to Sarah, I hoped it would be with a female masseuse. As far as I know, Sarah doesn’t have a bisexual bone in her body which makes the idea of her being massaged by a woman even more exciting to me. I could imagine the masseuse being gay and being driven out of her mind seeing my gorgeous wife lying naked in front of her, I could imagine the masseuse’s pussy being wet the entire time as she massaged my wife, as Sarah lies there, totally oblivious to the sexual arousal of her masseuse. The more I thought about this, the more excited I began to get. I began to hatch a plan.

When I got to work, I brought up my calendar for the day of the massage, blocked 1 to 3 and marked it “out of the office”. Whether or not I could actually pull this off depended on a lot of factors. Could I sneak into the backyard without anyone seeing me? Would they do the massage in the basement or first floor where I could see them? Would I have the nerve to actually try to watch?

The morning of the massage I went into the basement before leaving for work, the most likely spot for an at-home massage and slightly opened the upper sash of the back window. We have shutters on all the windows and it seemed likely they would close those, so I’d have to be able to reach in and open it enough to get a clear line of sight. I cut a short piece of 1/4 inch dowel to use as a push stick and sat it outside by the window.

I found it extremely hard to focus at work that morning, and by lunchtime I was really getting excited. I didn’t want to get there too early but it was a struggle to wait. Finally it was time and I drove to our neighborhood and parked a few blocks away, then walked to our house. I cut through the yards of the houses behind us, avoiding the front of the house, knowing our next-door neighbor, affectionately known as “The Neighborhood Watch” would already be following events at our house, with a strange car in our driveway during the middle of the day.

It was about ten after One when I got to the basement window. If they weren’t in the basement, this was going to be much harder and if they were upstairs, there was no way I would be able to peek in at them. But sure enough, the basement window shutters were all closed, so I was sure they were down there. I carefully stuck the dowl I had put by the window that morning through the small slit where the upper sash was open. Slowly, being careful not to make a sound, I used it to open the shutter enough to see in.

It wasn’t as dark inside as I had feared, but I still had to get up really close to be able to see well. When I got my viewing spot figured out, I could see that the table was set up in the middle of the room, about where I expected it to be. There were lighted candles around and one of Sarah’s favorite acoustic guitar cd’s playing on the stereo. She was already on the table, facing away from me, naked except for a small towel covering her ass. The masseuse, a tall, sturdy woman with short blonde hair, was standing off to the side preparing what I assumed to be the massage oil. I found that I was able to hear them quite well as they chatted, mostly about sports, to my surprise, one of my wife’s favorite topics. After a few more minutes of preparation, the masseuse moved over to Sarah’s side and asked her if she was ready to get started. “Oh yes!” Sarah replied enthusiastically. With a soft chuckle, the masseuse dropped a bit of oil on Sarah’s shoulders and got to work.

So far, this all seems pretty mundane I’m sure. But from my vantage point, it was anything but and I was trembling as I thought to myself that this just might work out after all!

She spent what seemed like forever on my wife’s shoulders and back, moving slowly down toward the towel covering Sarah’s gorgeous butt. I had found a comfortable spot, hidden from spying eyes by the bushes. I carefully unzipped my pants and pulled out my stiff cock and started slowly rubbing it. I knew I wouldn’t be able to cum here but couldn’t resist teasing myself a little. I was hoping she’d work on her ass next, but instead she said to her that she was going to move down to her calves. I could tell from how Sarah’s voice sounded when she replied that she was very relaxed, and maybe even a little turned on (and who could blame her?). I was thinking “No! Come on, get to the good stuff!” but I didn’t have a vote here.

At this point, there was no more chitchat going on. The masseuse was working hard on Sarah’s legs, really digging in and massaging deep, which is exactly how she wants and needs it. The only sounds other than the music were occasional small sighs and moans from my wife. A few times she said things like “Oh, that is so nice!” as the masseuse slowly worked her way up first one leg, then the other. She had spread Sarah’s legs slightly when she got high on her right thigh. The towel was small and from my vantage point, I could see just the smallest glimpse of her fabulous little brown pussy. And if I could see it, the masseuse’s view was even better of course. A couple of times I thought I noticed her lean over slightly as she worked to gaze up under the towel.

Now things were heating up nicely! My cock was so hard it felt like a rock in my hand. As the masseuse worked near the tops of my wife’s luscious thighs, it looked to me like her hands were brushing against Sarah’s pussy, in fact, I was sure of it. After a few minutes of this, the masseuse asked Sarah softly “Is everything ok?”. Sarah answered “Absolutely perfect”, in a soft, breathy whisper. Then the masseuse said “Ok honey, if you’re ready and comfortable, I’m going to start working on your rear.” Again Sarah answered dreamily, “Yes, it’s ok.”

The masseuse pulled away the towel, revealing Sarah’s luscious ass. My wife is a stunningly beautiful woman with many great features, but her ass is spectacular. She was lying with her head turned to her left, her arms folded beneath her face. Her eyes were closed, so she didn’t see the masseuse pause to stare at her naked body. But I did, I know a look of appreciation when I see it. She let her eyes linger for a moment, then got to work, kneading and rubbing first one cheek then the other. This is where Sarah is the tightest and has the most discomfort and there are a couple of spots where she likes to be massaged really hard. I sometimes massage her butt, I use a 5lb metal weight and push it into her with all my strength, you would think it would hurt like hell, but it’s just the opposite, she loves it. So I wasn’t surprised when she encouraged the masseuse a couple of times to work harder. It was obvious to me that she was using all her strength on her, but still Sarah encouraged her to go deeper.

The masseuse slowly worked her way down Sarah’s ass to the tops of her thighs. She softly took one of Sarah’s ankles in her hand and moved her feet farther apart, then went back to her ass. Sarah’s pussy was plainly visible now and the masseuse was openly rubbing against it as she massaged the cheeks of Sarah’s ass. She was moaning softly. She asked Sarah if she should stop and Sarah said “Oh please no, don’t stop now, please!”, practically begging for more.

At that point, all pretense of a massage had been dropped and the masseuse began rubbing up and down, slowly and firmly, between Sarah’s legs, her fingers sliding between the lips of Sarah’s very, very wet pussy. I was getting more than I had bargained for and was so turned on my biggest fear was that I’d make a noise and ruin the moment. My only thought was “Oh my god, don’t stop now!”. But as long as I didn’t disturb them, it was obvious this was only going to end one way. I had only to remain quiet and enjoy the show.

The masseuse continued rubbing Sarah’s clit, with one hand resting on Sarah’s ass, softly rubbing it. Occasionally I could see that she would make a thrust with her left hand, as if she was sticking a finger in Sarah’s pussy. Those thrusts became more regular and soon she was finger-fucking Sarah, first with a single finger, then two. She moved around to get a better angle behind Sarah and began to fuck her more insistently. She was moaning louder now, with the occasional “oh my god” thrown in. She was clearly on her way to a powerful orgasm. No wonder she likes massages so much, I thought to myself as the masseuse picked up the tempo and was now finger-fucking Sarah furiously with three fingers. The table was swaying with her efforts. I knew it wouldn’t be long before Sarah came and if I wasn’t careful, I wouldn’t be far behind. But I couldn’t do that, I can’t cum quietly, I just can’t do it. So as she worked harder on Sarah, I had to back off my efforts on my cock to avoid an explosion, in more ways than one.

I finally had to take my hand off my dick and just watch and listen. I love the things Sarah says when she cums and when she said “Just like that, keep doin’ that!” I knew the end was near. Sarah began to moan, softly, then louder and finally she lost control as the masseuse hammered her pussy with her hand. As the wave subsided, the masseuse moved her hand up and cupped Sarah’s shaved, wet mound, holding it softly as she came back to earth. “Was that good?” the masseuse asked her in a low whisper. Sarah softly moaned “Oh my god yes, fantastic”. “Good!”‘ she said, “I’m glad you enjoyed it”. She continued to cup Sarah’s pussy, slowly moving her hand in small circles. It was as if she already knew Sarah sexually, this is the perfect way to keep her going, to get her ready for another orgasm. But instead of starting again, she finally pulled her hand away and said, “I’m going to leave you to yourself now. You lay here as long as you need, but when you’re ready, you can get dressed. I’ll be upstairs making phone calls until you’re decent.”

I knew I had to get out of there now, if they were upstairs there would be a good chance of them seeing me in the back yard. So I put my still very hard dick back in my pants as best I could and carefully got up, stiff and sore from sitting in the same spot for over an hour. I headed out the same way I had snuck in, walked back to my truck and went back to work, mind mind racing in a sexual fog.

When I got back to work, I texted her, asking how her day was going, knowing that it was going pretty darned well. She replied that it was ok, I chuckled but let it go. I considered a bit of sexting, but decided against it, I wasn’t sure I could take it in the state I was in.

That night when I got home, she was in the laundry room which is right by the door from the garage. I didn’t give her a chance to say a word, but began kissing her passionately, then threw her up on the dryer, pulled her shorts and panties off and jammed my rock-hard cock into her and began to fuck her as hard as I could. Normally I try to take my time and make sure she has at least as many orgasms as I do, but since I already knew she was one up (at least) on me for the day, all I cared about was filling her wet pussy with my hot, sticky cum. At first she was laughing a bit, probably thinking I wasn’t serious about this and would quit soon, but it didn’t take her long to realize this was no laughing matter and got into it herself. Before long, she was moaning and asking me to fuck her harder. I told her I was going to fill her pussy until it my cum dripped out of her, that she was the hottest woman I had ever seen and that I couldn’t get enough of her pussy. The dryer was running and I had it rocking back and forth as I pounded her tight, soaking wet pussy. when I came, it was as advertised – a gush of sperm that felt like it would never end. I collapsed on her, my head on her chest (her shirt and bra stayed on the whole time) as I whispered “I love you”.

We lay in a heap for a few minutes, then I pulled myself together and up, pulled back from her, bent over and kissed her sopping-wet pussy, nuzzling it a bit, nibbling her lips, before standing up and helping her down from the dryer. We embraced and kissed, “honey, I’m home” I said.

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