Worst Birthday Ever
A sexual fantasy still on my Bucket List? A massage with a happy ending
My wife said she wanted to celebrate my 50th Birthday with ‘something special.’ She asked me what sexual fantasy was still on my Bucket List, and with a wink she promised to make it happen. Excited, I told her I’d always wanted to have a ‘Happy Ending Massage’ but had never been bold enough to get one. She clapped her hands with glee, said ‘Done!’ but then added “but only if I can watch!’ which of course I agreed to. I was excited by the thought of some young babe rubbing her oily hands and body over me and if my wife wanted to watch then that was even better. Maybe she could learn something, or … well, who knew how this could end up?!
So a week later on my birthday my wife duly presented me at breakfast with a gift voucher for ‘The Bangkok Special’ at the local massage parlor. It was just something she’d mocked up on the computer because, as she explained, the parlor couldn’t really acknowledge they did ‘sextras.’ But she assured me she’d been in personally and arranged {wink wink} ‘everything’.
The massage was booked for lunchtime and couldn’t come soon enough. I’d taken the day off work, as I always do on my birthday, and we decided to have lunch after the ‘Bangkok Special’ because my wife said massages were more relaxing if you didn’t have a full stomach. I bowed to her experience and off we went. I had a big grin on my face and couldn’t believe my wife was going to do this for me (although we did use to joke that when we got older she would just outsource the sex to ‘the hired help’).
We parked the car and she held my hand and walked with me to the front door of the Massage Parlor. We paused momentarily and looked at each other, both thinking the same unspoken question: ‘are we really doing this?’ I laughed nervously, took a deep breath, and then boldly stepped inside. The manager/madam greeted us warmly and with a twinkle in her eye said,
“So this is the Birthday Boy? We’ve been expecting you…”
With an arm outstretched she ushered me towards the masseuse, who was waiting topless with a big smile outside the door to a small room adjacent the foyer. Inside the room I could see a shower and an oversize massage table that looked more like a bed. The room looked just as I imagined it but already I knew I couldn’t go through with it, and when I looked back at my wife her face confirmed I’d made the right decision.
So… why couldn’t I go through with it? My wife had bought me this gift, what was stopping me?
I couldn’t go through with it because the masseuse was a male — and I’m straight. When I looked back at my wife’s face she was laughing her ass off because she’d planned the whole thing. Punk’d, pranked, call it what you will — my wife was an evil trickster.
I shook my head, gave her a dirty look, and muttered “What the fuck?!”
“You asked for a massage with a happy ending, and that’s what I got you. If you wanted something else you should have been more specific” she laughed, with mock surprise.
She then said that since she’d paid good money for a ‘Happy Ending’ massage it would be a shame to waste it — so she would take the booking for herself! And in she went, with the hot young masseuse leading the way. I told her this was the worst birthday present ever but she just laughed.
“It’s going to get a whole lot worse my pet,” she said “you have to come in and watch him do me — that was the deal, remember?”
I told her that was not the deal but she just laughed scornfully and told me to sit down, shut up, and watch how a real man does it. When I didn’t move quick enough she slapped me across the face, which jolted me back to earth — I quickly sat down on a plastic stool in the corner of the small massage room. “Good boy” she said, her eyes smiling now as she disrobed.
I sat there and watched, silently fuming, but did nothing. I was impotent — in spirit at least, since I had a massive hard on watching a man half my age rub his oily hands all over my wife’s fulsome breasts. My wife noticed immediately and taunted me mercilessly — until his fingers worked their way down to her vulva for The Main Event. She wasn’t quiet for long and now it was he that was merciless. Unrelenting he pried at least three orgasms from her cruel cunt before the hour was up.
Clearly this was something from her Bucket List, not mine, and her cuckold fantasies had been well and truly ignited. On the drive home she told me that she would be bringing two of her male co-workers home on Friday for some very special after work ‘cocktails’ — and that I would have to serve the drinks! She said if I did a good job she would invite my Boss over the following weekend so she could ‘convince’ him I deserved a promotion.
“He’s had his eyes on me for ages” she giggled, “so I think it’s time we showed him why you’re due a little pay rise. Let him see what he can get for a few dollars more in your pay packet each week…” her voice trailed off as her hand snaked over the stick shift and beyond, to feel the erection throbbing between my legs “…but you’ll have to give the money to me, of course — since I’m the one who will have earned it. In a way it will kind of be like you’re the one who’s paying me to fuck your Boss, won’t it?”
As we pulled into the driveway my wife turned to face me. “You know what?” she said, rhetorically, “that masseuse had great hands — wonderful hands! — and he got me off beautifully … in a way you never could” (she added, for good measure) “but he didn’t fuck me — and I really need to be fucked.
So I’ll tell you what…” she paused again, for effect, “we’re going to go inside and I’m going to lie down naked on the bed so I don’t have to see you. You’re gonna take off all your clothes and then rub baby oil over your tiny cock, which you’re then gonna slide all up and down and over my ass. Then I’m gonna let you fuck me…
After all, it is your birthday!”
Yes it was. Worst birthday ever.
