Spoil Alert: Movie Night Massage

The rain hammered against the windows of the den, a relentless, insistent rhythm that mirrored the growing heat in my own body. Mark had settled into the oversized armchair, flipping through the channels with the remote, a look of mild boredom etched on his face. It was our usual Friday night ritual: a marathon of terrible action movies, punctuated by lukewarm beer and the occasional shared glance. But tonight, something felt different. An electric anticipation, a silent promise hanging in the air, was more potent than the stale popcorn scent. I knew exactly what I wanted, and I wasn’t about to let a mindless action flick stand in my way.

“You gonna keep staring at that screen, or are you gonna give your wife some attention?” I asked, my voice laced with a playful challenge. He glanced up, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Just trying to find something decent, babe. You know how it is.”

“Oh, I know exactly how it is,” I replied, sliding onto the couch beside him. “You’re just avoiding me.” I leaned in close, my hand reaching out to gently tug at his pajama pants. They were a worn, comfortable pair of navy blue, the fabric soft against my fingertips. I noticed, with a little thrill, that he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. My heart quickened its pace. This was the perfect opportunity, a moment of stolen intimacy amidst the chaos of bad movies.

“Let me give you a massage,” I murmured, sliding behind him, my legs wrapping around his waist. The scent of his aftershave, a subtle blend of sandalwood and citrus, filled my senses. I began kneading the knots in his shoulders, feeling the tension slowly release from his muscles. The rhythmic pressure, combined with his relaxed posture, sent shivers down my spine. I lowered my hand, letting it fall into his lap, and began to trace the contours of his body with my fingertips. As my hand descended lower, my fingers brushed against his arousal, and I couldn’t help but linger there, enjoying the escalating heat. It wasn’t long before my touch became more insistent, my fingertips dancing over his sensitive skin. I loved the way his muscles tensed beneath my touch, the subtle shifts in his breathing a silent invitation.

“You’re really good at this,” he whispered, his voice thick with desire. “Makes me want to do more than just relax.”

“You know what I’m thinking about,” I said, my voice a husky purr. I shifted slightly, bringing my body closer to his, feeling the warmth radiating from him. I grabbed a bottle of my favorite lubricant from the nightstand and poured a generous amount into his hand. As I spread it across his hard cock, I felt a surge of pleasure as his skin absorbed the silky liquid. With both hands, I began to stroke him rhythmically, my touch becoming more demanding, more insistent. The anticipation built, the heat intensifying, until he began to tremble beneath my hands.

“Come out where I can see you,” he urged, his voice strained. “Don’t hold back.”

Without hesitation, I slid off the couch, swinging my leg around to straddle his lap. My hips pressed against his, and his muscles coiled in response. I quickly unbuttoned his pajama top, revealing a glimpse of his chest, and pulled it down a little further, exposing more of his upper body. The sight of his exposed skin, coupled with the escalating pleasure, was intoxicating. As I continued to stroke him, I noticed a bead of sweat trickling down his temple. He was losing control, succumbing to the primal urge that burned within him.

“I’m taking care of you this time,” I declared, pulling myself up onto his chest. I rested my chin on his shoulder, pulling him closer, and deepened my kiss. The taste of his skin, mingled with the sweet scent of the lubricant, was a heady combination. I felt a powerful connection with him, a sense of shared pleasure that transcended the confines of the couch. My fingers explored the sensitive skin beneath his foreskin, teasing him with gentle touches before moving on to more insistent strokes.

“You can return the favor later,” I teased, sliding down his body and onto the floor. I removed my own shirt, revealing my own body in its entirety, a deliberate invitation to continue the pleasure. My breasts strained against my bra as I knelt before him, gently pressing my lips against the tip of his penis. I licked and swirled around the head, teasing him with my attention, before running my tongue along the shaft, savoring every inch. My hands began to explore his balls, finding their sensitive spots and applying firm pressure, pushing him closer to the brink.

His moans grew louder, more desperate, as I increased my pace, escalating the intensity of my ministrations. I took the opportunity to explore his entire body, running my hands along his stomach, his thighs, and his legs, each touch sending shivers of pleasure through his body. I shifted my position, allowing him to feel the full force of my weight against him, and continued to caress him with abandon. The movie remained forgotten, lost in the haze of our shared passion.

As his breathing grew heavier, more ragged, I knew I was on the verge of climax. I intensified my efforts, pouring all my energy into his pleasure. His muscles clenched, his body convulsing with the force of his arousal. Finally, he exploded, releasing a torrent of white semen that showered over my body. I swallowed every drop, savoring the taste, while continuing to stroke his cock with renewed vigor.

Looking up from between his legs, I observed his satisfied expression, the subtle twitch of his lips, the sheen of perspiration on his forehead. "What do you say we make that the first of many this weekend?" I suggested, my voice dripping with desire.

He smiled, a slow, deliberate curve of his lips. "Sounds lovely," he replied, his fingers resuming their playful exploration of my tits. The rain continued to beat against the windows, but inside, in the warm glow of the den, we were lost in a world of lust and pleasure, a world where the only thing that mattered was the exquisite sensation of being desired, of being loved. The night was young, and we had a whole weekend ahead of us to indulge in our shared desires. The thought alone sent shivers of anticipation through me, a promise of endless pleasure, a celebration of our perfect connection. And as I continued to caress him, lost in the intoxicating rhythm of our bodies, I knew that this was just the beginning of something truly extraordinary. The movie could wait. Tonight, we were all about us.

Did you like this story? Spoil Alert: Movie Night Massage look, but like these, here Massage sex stories.