It turned out to be the worst Christmas ever for me, after what happened last night. This is far worse than some Duck Dynasty deal.
My wife and I were sitting by the fire last night, sipping bourbon and basking in the glow of utter civility, when the doorbell rang. My wife muttered that she was going to give the rude person what’s for as she went to the door. It turned out to be the masseuse coming over to give my wife the massage I had purchased for her Christmas present. However, when I looked to see who it was, I was stunned. I had purchased the gift certificate from a petite Asian woman, whom I assumed would be the one to give it since those people, in addition to being inscrutable, know their way around the body. But standing at the door was a 6’4 hunk named Sven, with steel blue eyes and a chiseled physique.
He explained to my wife that her husband had purchased his services for the evening and my wife was immediately excited. She invited him in and told him that she’d go to the bedroom to get ready. Sven approached me and his massive hand engulfed mine like I was a little boy.“Thanks for your purchase, Mr. M. But Sookie said you only purchased the basic package.” It was true that I had bought the cheapest massage since I don’t like to lay out money for my wife. But Sven said I could upgrade and for another $100, he could provide the deluxe treatment. It was probably the bourbon or maybe the lingering Christmas spirit, but I agreed and forked over the dough.
Sven left to join my wife who was now in the bedroom and I sat down back by the fire. I was secretly hoping that the massage would cause my wife to loosen up the bone enough to let me get some sweet action. She only lets me hump her once every few months and the rest of the time I have to stroke my own meat to bust a nut. I was sipping my drink when I heard my wife begin to moan. I assumed he was working his magic fingers over her back, but the moaning increased in frequency and volume. I chuckled as I thought about the deep tissue massage she was receiving because I knew she’d be in the mood for sexual congress soon.
A couple of minutes later the moaning actually increased more, so I got up to go and see exactly what he was doing. As I walked closer, I could hear the bed springs and I thought he must really be working her aching muscles. But when I rounded the corner and glimpsed our bedroom, I saw an incredible sight: Sven was on top of my wife, humping her like there was no tomorrow. She was clawing his back and pulling his muscular buns in tight. She was writhing and grunting and soon began to cream all over the bed, soaking the sheets. I was amazed at this sight since my wife just lies there with me. She seemed to be having one continuous orgasm, even though she never gets her rocks off with me.
Humiliated, I went back to my bourbon and waited for them to finish. Some 30 minutes later, Sven emerged and said,“See you next time, Mr. M.” I thought to myself,“fat chance” since I was too cheap to spring for such a thing again. But when my wife joined me again, I found out what she meant. She informed me that Sven was now coming over once a week to rub her back and clean her pipes. She has now turned me into a cuckold and I have to pay the fees for her servicing. I am now less than a man and will have to stroke my boner as I listen to my wife getting pounded every week.