Eddie POV
My phone went silent, and I set it on my desk. Three minutes. That was all it ever took for my mother in law to ruin an entire evening.
We had plans, my husband and I. Dinner at Mariners Cove. I’ve been craving Italian, and he’s been craving lobster, so it was a perfect choice. Followed by a movie, the latest superhero flick was just released, followed by gelato, then possibly some time at the bar where I would drive my husband crazy by flirting with the bartender. It’s harmless, he’s a good friend that my husband has had a thing for years. And I love teasing him with the possibility we might actually bring him home one day. Then, possibly ending the night with sex.
But no. She had to throw a freaking hand grenade in the room and ruin everything. She and my father in law would be passing through town. Yes, last minute notice like this is right up her alley. Doesn’t matter what we are doing. We are expected to drop everything and cater to their needs. They would be stopping for dinner on their way through town. Seven o’clock. Which meant they would be ringing the doorbell at seven o’clock on the button. Because that’s how she is. Which is what makes the last minute notice so infuriating. The woman plans everything. Which means she’s known about this trip for quite some time.
I believe my husband’s aversion to planning things is a post traumatic response to growing up with her. Not that I’m complaining. He lets me plan most things, like our former plans for the evening, and never argues. He takes after his father, the embodiment of go with the flow. A creature of habit more than anything.
So why is she calling me with this? Because he never answers when she calls him. Smart man. I need to learn from his example. But if I did that, then she would go full panic mode. She would be calling his work and mine. Calling everyone she could really, just to make sure her baby was ok. So no, I can’t follow his example. I needed to answer to avoid the chaos.
And now I needed to tell him. And more than that, I needed to go to the store for fresh ingredients for dinner, because she would expect a full meal. Anything less and we would hear about it for weeks. Complaints about how her son was not eating enough. How she comes up with that idea, I have no idea. She would say he is starved. He is not. Her son eats more than enough. The man is a bottomless pit. The kind of man that makes the manager of an all you can eat buffet cry in agony.
I rubbed my eyes and checked the time. I had a small window before I had to deal with any of that. What I needed right now was stress relief. I needed to prepare myself for the evening I was about to endure. My shoulders were tight. My nerves were tight. My entire body was tight. A result of that three minute phone call.
I stepped out of my office and went down the hall to my boss’s office. Noah was at the small conference table, leaning over a set of contracts. A younger trans man with an edgy look, shaved sides, sharp jawline, and a clean, controlled style that made him impossible to miss. I doubt we have a gay man that works for us that hasn’t thought about fucking him at least once, myself included. Likely the majority of the women too. He had a presence that worked on everyone. Calm, capable, and confident. Everyone liked him. You couldn’t ask for a better boss. His rule was simple. Get your work done. Meet your deadlines. If you needed to leave early and nothing was burning, he never cared. All we had to do was let him know.
The conversation was brief, he just wanted an update on an agreement I had been working on. It’s done. I just needed to send him the draft. He gave me a short, almost friendly nod and went back to the contracts.
I went back to my office, closed the door, and reached for my phone. Step one. Get rid of this tension. I pulled up the number for the spa I went to often. Not a small place. A full facility with hydrotherapy rooms, sensory deprivation tanks, heated mineral pools, and private steam suites. They had something for everyone. Deep relaxation. High end skin treatments. Even a menu of custom sessions you could only book if you were on their member list. And getting on that list took time. Like months.
“Elysian Waters Spa. This is Rena.”
“Hi Rena, it’s Eddie Larkin. Do you have anything in the next hour.”
“One moment please.” A pause. “I have a one o’clock opening with Cooper that’s available. Sixty or ninety minutes.”
“Cooper is great,” I said. I was there enough to know all the names. And yes, Cooper was wonderful. All of their therapists were fit, but he stood out as one of the hotter ones. Not the hottest but absolutely toward the top of the list. He had the kind of body you only got from showing up to the gym every single day. Not a bodybuilder look. No puffed muscles. Just dense, defined strength everywhere. Broad chest. Tight core. Thick arms with clean lines. Strong legs under the uniform pants. Everything proportional.
The spa paid for gym memberships for all staff, who had mandatory time requirements. Cooper took full advantage. I don’t care if you’re gay or straight. Man or woman or any other identity. Anyone that doesn’t want that man’s hands on them is certifiably crazy.
“Ninety minutes please.”
“Perfect,” Rena said. “Any preferences.”
“Aromatherapy. Ocean breeze. Medium pressure. Full body. Hot stones. Tea tree in the oil. High glide.” What can I say, I know what I like.
“Got it. Please arrive ten minutes early.”
“Thank you.”
I hung up. My shoulders eased a bit. I emailed Noah the files he needed, grabbed my things, loosened my tie a touch, checked that my vest sat straight, and headed out.
The elevator doors gave me my reflection. Thirty two. Brown hair. Clean jaw. Tight body in slacks, collared shirt, tie, and vest. My trainer deserved a medal. He pushes me hard and does not accept excuses. He too comes in high demand. Any client that shows they’re not serious about staying healthy gets dropped. And I like turning heads when I walk into the bar. My husband likes the attention I get too, though he’s not so quick to admit it.
Traffic was light. I pulled into the lot with time to spare. The building was bigger than people expected, stretching across several storefront spaces. Inside, you’re transported into another world immediately. Relaxation begins the moment you step through the doors. Low lighting. Eucalyptus in the cool air. Handpan music drifted through the space.
Rena looked up the second I walked in. She already had my profile open on her screen.
“There you are,” she said. “Rough day.”
“You have no idea,” I said. “Got some bad news is all.”
She nodded. “Cooper is finishing up in another room. You’re in room seven today. It’s already been set up for you.”
“No worries,” I said. “I know the routine.”
I could wait for Cooper to come and escort me to the room, but what would be the point. He would just be standing around while I got ready. At least this way, I would already be in place when he walked in. More time for him to work on my body.
The door was cracked open, and the lights were dimmed to a candle light level. The diffuser pushed a soft ocean breeze scent into the air. The table was warmed. Everything about the room eased the weight in my shoulders.
A short shower stall sat in the corner. The spa didn’t require a rinse first, but it preferred clients to take one. The water helped soften the muscles and cleared off anything that might interfere with the oils. It also made things easier for the therapist. Working on a clean body was always better than dealing with whatever a long workday left behind.
I stripped down, stepped inside, and turned on the water. It came out warm, almost hot. I let it run across my back and shoulders. The heat felt good, enough to take the edge off and make my body ease up a little.
I shut off the water and grabbed one of the thick towels from the rack. I dried off and tossed it into the bin. My skin felt warm from the water, loose and ready to be touched. I walked to the table and climbed up.
The towel for the session waited near the headrest. I reached for it, then paused. A part of me wondered what would happen if I skipped it entirely. If Cooper walked in and saw me naked, my ass up and ready for him. The thought hit fast, enough to make my cock twitch against the table. That would be a different kind of therapeutic session. One I would welcome. And coming from a stud like Cooper, it would be hard to say no to any part of it.
Still, probably too much.
I pulled the towel over my ass, adjusted it into place, and settled on my stomach. My arms rested at my sides. My breathing evened out while I waited for Cooper to come in.
I heard the door open. No greeting. No small talk. Cooper isn’t one for either. He takes his cues from the clients. All I heard was the sound of someone stepping inside. I kept my face in the cradle and stayed still. The footsteps crossed the room. A drawer opened. Bottles clicked together once. Tea tree drifted into the air and mixed with the ocean breeze from the diffuser.
Then I felt him. His hands landed on my shoulders with warm oil. He didn’t start gentle. He pressed in, working through the first layer of tension with no hesitation. His thumbs pushed along the base of my neck. I let out a breath I didn’t know I had been holding.
He spread the oil down my back, using long strokes from my shoulders to my lower spine. A pace that told me he knew exactly how to get my body to open for him. Each push made me sink further into the table. The towel over my ass shifted a little as I relaxed, but I didn’t fix it and neither did he.
He moved to my arms. His fingers wrapped around each one, gliding from shoulder to wrist. When he leaned in to get better leverage, his chest brushed my side and a tingle went up my spine. He didn’t have a shirt on. The contact lit up every part of me he touched. My cock twitched against the table.
It wouldn’t be the first time he has massaged me without a shirt on. Hot stone sessions ran warm. Some therapists preferred it. And Cooper knew I wouldn’t have a problem with it. So he likely ditched it the moment he saw I was the client.
I liked the way it felt when he worked close, his body heat blending with mine. Without his shirt, he could really get into it and use his body in the process.
He shifted lower, still focused on my arm. His skin skimmed my ribs again as he adjusted his angle. It was small contact, barely a second, but it hit hard. My breathing changed. My chest opened. My hips tightened down against the table to keep from grinding into it.
Once my back was warm and loose, he reached for the stones. I heard them lift from the warmer, then he placed the first one at the base of my spine. Heat spread fast. He moved a second along the curve of my lower back in slow, steady passes. The sensation pulled a soft sound from my throat that I could not have stopped if I tried.
He set a few stones in place and shifted lower. He lifted my right leg and began at the ankle. His hands slid up my calf with oil, pressing into the muscle with enough pressure to force a reaction out of me. My foot relaxed, toes spreading. He worked higher toward my thigh. When he reached the inside of it, close to the towel, my cock hardened against the table. He paused just long enough for me to notice, then kept going like nothing had happened.
He switched legs. Same pace. Same pressure. He worked the length of me like he knew what each inch needed. When he pushed his thumbs up the back of my thigh, my hips almost lifted into his touch. I stopped myself, but the urge stayed.
He returned to my spine and went straight to deeper pressure. His hands pushed into my back with slow, heavy strokes that made my breath shake. When he leaned in to get better leverage, his chest made full contact with my arm. Warm skin. He stayed there for one more pass before shifting.
He reached for the stones again. When he brought them back, he used them differently. Longer strokes. Slower travel. He dragged one across the top of my ass, letting the edge of it press into the towel before lifting it away. My cock drew tight against the table. Cooper didn’t speed up. He didn’t pretend it hadn’t happened. He set the stones down and moved closer, close enough that the heat from his body reached my lower back.
He positioned himself at my legs. His hands wrapped around my calf, firm and sure, then he slid them up my thigh. When he reached the inside, he didn’t avoid the towel. His fingers brushed the underside of it, pushing the fabric higher. Not enough to expose me, but enough to tell me he was done pretending this was a standard session.
He switched to the other leg. This time, when his hands moved up my thigh, he didn’t bother staying to the side. His fingertips pressed the towel aside and made brief contact with the crease at the top of my thigh. Bare skin. My hips jerked, and he held my leg in place like he expected it.
He went back to my lower back. No stones now. Just his hands. He slid them under the towel from both sides until his thumbs pressed the muscles just above my ass. His fingers rested on my skin, lower than anything a professional should allow. He pushed deeper, and the towel rode up. I felt the air hit part of my ass. He didn’t fix it. Instead, he pulled it away, letting it fall to the floor.
He stepped to the warmer and picked up two stones. I could hear them shift in his hands. When he came back, he placed one on each side of my spine. Then he set a hand on my hip, steadying me, and used a fresh stone to work the curve of my ass. He pressed the heat into the muscle, slow and deliberate. The stone traced the top of my ass, then the side, then lower, following every line. My cock pressed hard into the table, twitching with pleasure and begging for attention.
He switched stones and used the other to glide across the center of my ass. He dragged the heat over the full curve and pressed down hard enough to make my breath hitch. His free hand rested on my hip. His thumb slid closer to my crack, close enough that I felt the heat of his skin there. Nothing about it was professional.
He moved lower. The stone traced the line where my ass met my thigh. Then he shifted the angle, and the heat brushed the bottom of my ass, higher than he should have gone. The stone passed close to my hole. Close enough that the warmth tightened everything in me. My cock pushed into the table. I could feel a drop of precum smear against the padding.
He lifted my leg and brought the stone in tighter. The heat pressed right along the crease between my ass and my balls, a place no stone had any reason to be but felt incredible. Like it belonged there. My hips jerked. He held my leg steady with one hand and kept the stone there for another pass, slower this time. My hole clenched hard at the sensation, and he took his time letting the warmth settle into it.
He did the same on the other side. Same pace. Same focus. The stone moved right over the space between my hole and my balls, dragging heat into a place that should never have been touched in a session like this. My entire body reacted. There was no hiding the way my hips pushed forward or the way my cock throbbed against the table.
My ass was exposed under him, warmed from the stones. Sensitive from the way he had worked me. The oil he used made everything slick under his hands. The whole thing was unexpected, but, I wanted more. His hands stayed on me, a full grip. His fingers moved just enough to tease and show his intent.
He eased my hips back into place, not correcting anything, just settling me how he wanted me. His thumbs stayed low, pressing into the tight line of muscle just above the places he had already pushed heat into.
He leaned in. I felt his breath on my lower back, steady and close. His fingers slid deeper into my ass, slow and deliberate, as if he needed to feel the way my body reacted to him.
I lifted my head and looked over my shoulder, ready to meet Cooper’s eyes.
But it wasn’t him.
Julian stood in his place. Tall. Broad shouldered. Dark skin that caught the low light in clean lines. His chest was bare. His whole body was. He was built the way Cooper was, only sharper in all the places that counted. His waist tapered clean. His arms were thick with strength. His face carried that calm confidence I knew well.
A slow smile pulled at my mouth before I could help it.
“You’re not Cooper,” I said.
“No. I’m not,” Julian replied.
His voice was low, the same tone he used the last time we were alone together. The tone that made certain boundaries feel optional. And just like that, all the intimate contact from earlier made sense. With Julian it was to be expected. He would touch me any way he wanted, and I would let him. Then I would beg for more.
“Does Cooper know you’re so open to letting him touch you like that?” Julian asked. His thumbs continued to massage my ass.
I thought about it. How much does Cooper know about how into him I am? It’s not like he’s the most innocent masseuse when he massages me. At one point or another he has touched every part of my body. He’s routinely used his body as a tool in his arsenal. And I have to admit. I love when he uses his chest. He’s just never pushed as far as Julian would.
“Something tells me he will soon,” I replied. Julian would no doubt brag and tease Cooper about it. Probably even exaggerate it in one way or another. And honestly. I was ok with it, if it meant Cooper might push a little further next time.
“And what would your husband think about that?”
I moaned at the pleasure from it and did my best to reply. “I’ll have to ask him.”
Julian’s hands tightened on my hips, steady and deliberate. Then he let his thumbs slide lower. “So you think he would approve.”
“I think so,” I said, knowing my response would either provoke him, or entice him, depending on how you look at it.
Julian, the sinful fuck, loves when married men give in to his advances. The only thing that turns him on more than plowing a married guy is being the first one to do it. Helping them break the chain, and ideally unleash an insatiable monster. He responded by effortlessly flipping me onto my back and pulling me to the edge of the massage table.
“And what about this?” he asked as he slid his thumb inside me, drawing a low moan from my lips.
What would my husband think of this situation. Being laid bare on my back on the massage table. My fair, tanned legs spread wide and resting on the shoulders of a tall dark skinned muscle bound god of a massage therapist.
I looked him in the eyes and responded. “I think he would expect me to tell you to quit fucking around and fuck me already.” I grinned. “Or do I need to get Cooper to come in here and do it?”
His cock pressed against me without hesitation. With all the oil he had been using, he slid across my hole over and over again. All he had to do was shift his angle ever so slightly and it would slide inside me. I tried more than once to move my hips, to accomplish the same result. But he wasn’t having it. The fucker was going to tease me with it. He was going to make me beg for it.
I wouldn’t be so compliant. Not today. I wouldn’t beg, but I would play into his kink. “Why don’t you just fuck me already. Send me home with your load dripping from my hole.”
That got the response I wanted. I knew it the moment he tightened his grip on my hips. His cock slipped past my hole a few more times, and then he shifted, allowing it to penetrate. His rhythm was slow at first. Controlled. Each thrust about making sure I was comfortable and ready for more. Never once did he break eye contact.
The whites of his eyes caught the low light and drew me in. His dark skin made the gaze even sharper.
The white of his eyes stood out against his darker skin, especially in the low light of the room. The contrast of his skin against mine just added to how hot it all was. Our bodies looked stark against each other, and that difference just added to the heat of it.
The table creaked under us as he began to quicken his pace. You could easily hear the sound of flesh hitting flesh. So much so that if I didn’t know better, I would worry about someone in the hallway hearing. But the owner wasn’t naive. He knew the shenanigans that would eventually occur and soundproofed the walls during construction. How do I know? Julian told me. The first time he fucked me.
I moaned in pleasure when he shifted my body. I was still mostly on my back, but he twisted my hips so one leg stayed hooked over his shoulder while the other was pushed up toward my chest and angled out. It put me in the kind of position you only ever hit during yoga. But it opened me up in a way that let him get exactly where he wanted. This is what I loved about getting used by Julian. It was never boring. Never the same.
He moved me again without slowing, putting me more on my side this time. Instead of resting my leg on his shoulder, he held it up and pushed it back. Another stretch that left my ass exposed for his use. The angle changed everything. His thrusts hit deeper, sharper. My breath caught each time he pushed in. He held me there just long enough for my body to adjust before shifting me again.
He pulled me onto my knees, chest still pressed to the table. His grip settled on my hips, firm and sure. He drove into me from behind, the rhythm steady and heavy. My arms shook against the padding. He was a bit rougher this time. He would pull my hips to him with each thrust, adding more power behind it.
He moved me from position to position. Never once touching my cock, or allowing me to. Any friction I got was either from his body or the table. Every shift had a point. Every position seemed to stretch something else.
My grip tightened around the edge of the table as he adjusted his stance and drove in deeper. My back arched. He changed things up again by flipping me back onto my back, holding my legs open wide, which allowed him to lean down into me. The oil made our bodies slide against each other and he took full advantage of it. His tongue slipped into my mouth as his hand slipped around and cupped the back of my head.
I wasn’t going to last long, and he knew it. My orgasm hit hard and sudden, spraying between our bodies, coating both of our chests. Julian didn’t stop. He continued to fuck me through it, fucking me until he was done with his own. He stopped thrusting and lodged himself in me as deep as he could possibly get as his body pulsed with his own orgasm. I could feel the way his body was flexing with it. Only then did he go limp over me.
He kissed me again, letting the intimacy linger for a bit before we both returned to the real world. When he slipped out, I lamented that we didn’t have more time to go again. I did get exactly what I needed though. Julian delivered.
Julian dressed and slipped out of the room. I wondered how long he would go before he found a way to shower and get all that oil off his body. I looked at the clock and noted I had enough time to take a nice long shower first.
I stepped out of the room once I was dressed again. The hallway was quiet. My body still felt warm and relaxed. The kind of sensation that only comes from being well and truly fucked. Where your body is pushed, twisted, and used in all the right ways. Where the tension is literally fucked out of you.
I moved toward the front where Cooper stood near the reception desk, leaning against the counter as he talked with Julian. It seemed casual. The moment they noticed me, Cooper looked at Julian with a grin that said he already understood everything. My loving husband had apparently told his best friend, everything. Because of course he did. He would have gotten a kick out of it.
Rena glanced up from her screen and brightened when she saw me. “There you are. You look like a new person.”
Of course they hadn’t told her about the switch. Why would they.
I kept my voice calm. “Yes. It was exactly what I needed.”
Rena laughed. “So, I have you down for a joint session next week.”
“A Joint session?” I asked, wondering where this came from.
“Julian said you requested a joint session next week with him and cooper. if that’s not right I can cancel it.”
“No.” I quickly corrected. “No. That’s correct!” I looked at Julian and smiled, wondering just what he was up to.
“Well,” Rena said. “I am glad Cooper was able to help. A good massage is a great way to remove the sting of bad news. “
“What do you mean by that,” Julian asked, clearly concerned for my wellbeing.
“Eddie came after getting some bad news. He looked like the world just ended. Shoulders tight. Jaw locked. About five seconds away from snapping.” Rena laughed. “Ok that might be an exaggeration.”
Julian’s attention shifted to me fast. The relaxed shape in his posture faded. Concern pushed to the surface. “What happened,” he asked.
There was no point dancing around it. No point delaying the inevitable. I had carried the weight from the moment the call ended. Saying it out loud wasn’t going to make it better, but it needed to be said. I was just hoping to ride the high from just getting royally fucked a bit longer before I had to talk about it. Before I had to deal with the reality of it.
I looked Julian dead in the eyes and gave him the gut punch I had received earlier. “Your mother and father will be in town tonight,” I finished using his mothers tone. “Seven p.m. sharp.”
“FUCK” Julian exclaimed. You could see the pain on his face as he said it. “Seven p.m. sharp,” he repeated, mimicking her clipped voice with more accuracy than should have been possible. His eyes narrowed. “She planned this a month ago. She doesn’t know how to do ANYTHING last minute. It’s physically impossible for her.”
Cooper shifted his weight and looked between us. “So… since you two won’t be using your movie tickets,” he said, almost careful about it, “can I have them?”
Julian froze.
The question didn’t land all at once. It moved through him in pieces. First confusion, then recognition, then the full realization that her arrival didn’t just cut into the evening. It took the whole night with it.
He let out a long breath. “She’s my mother.”
Another breath. “She’s my mother.”
And even longer breath. “She’s my mother.”
Cooper lifted a hand. “So that’s a yes. I can take them.”
Julian gave a small, resigned laugh. “Yeah. Take them. Enjoy the movie for us. We’re not going anywhere tonight.”
I reached for his hand and squeezed it. “We still can,” I said. “They’re not staying all night. We could meet him at the bar after they leave. They’ll be gone by then.”
Julian’s expression eased, just enough for hope to get in. “Yeah,” he said. “We could do that. I’ll need a drink or two by then.” he turned to Cooper. “Do not spoil the movie for us.”
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