Everything is permitted: the result of the Masseur Experiment

Sex in which everything is permitted“She does get excited, doesn’t she,” I said. From my office, where I had been sitting at my desk, pretending to do something very important at my computer, I had been waiting for sounds from the bedroom, where my wife was being massaged by a masseur who was admittedly strikingly handsome. I had a sense that she would moan at some point, an invitation to something new and sexual, and I knew that the moaning would be my signal that I was to join her in the adventure.

I asked myself if I was jealous. Only if you want to define jealous as a hard-on that felt deliriously, astonishingly good, as few hard-ons had felt since the age of seventeen. I asked myself if I was nervous, and yes, I was, extremely. Not about my wife’s potential excitement – in the throes of pleasure she could shout “this is the greatest cock I’ve ever sucked!”, I was pretty sure, and it would only excite me more – but about her potential unexcitement. What if the situation didn’t turn her on in the slightest? This is why I had conspired to set it up this way – her moan would be the trigger, the sign that this fear of mine, at least, could be removed. I was also nervous about the masseur. What if he was a jerk? What if he stank? What if he annoyed me, or her? And then could the three of us, if it came to that, find the angles and the actions to make our bedroom experience sexy rather than comical. I was nervous about that. I had never been in a threesome with another man. If it was pleasant for all of us, then I didn’t care how it played out, or who got excited to what extent and in what way, but what made me nervous was the possibility of some unpleasantness. This is what I like about sexual discovery, though. It forces us to live. It prods us away from old comforts and out into the unknown world, and there’s always some unpleasantness out there. This time I got lucky, though.

We’d been preparing for some transgressive fuck. Beyond my wife’s experiments with Mr. X, there had been our ongoing flirtation with the neighbors, and our developing conversations about fucking other people. We’ve never had any hard, fast rules. We’ve never “defined limits” or “established rules”. What’s possible, for us, is situational. In other words, if one night we walk into an orgy filled with beautiful people happily fucking, we will not need a whispered conference in the bathroom to come to an “agreement”. We will be racing each other to get our clothes off. I will win.

I stood at the doorway of our bedroom watching my wife eagerly letting her pussy be stroked by another man’s hand. The man was polite, still reserved. This was actually going to work, I thought with growing excitement. My heart had been beating wildly on the short walk from my office to the bedroom, but now it steadied, slowed, and enjoyed pumping blood back into my cock. Lucky blood, lucky cock. I walked over to the bed and put my hands on my wife’s breasts. The masseur had taken his hand from her pussy and was watching me intently. Our eyes met. I didn’t have to say anything. I don’t know if I even smiled, but somehow – magically, chemically – the message had been passed, and we knew that we were both going to fuck my wife. I was hard in an instant. I wanted to see him fuck her. I wanted to see her eyes shine as they discovered new pleasures. I wanted us to redefine ourselves in that room, and I wanted to fuck like maniacs.

I licked her pussy, her hips grinding up into my face, her body in an emergency brought on by the combination of my tongue, and the masseur’s tongue on her nipples. I looked up across her body to watch this phenomenon, and I saw her face turn to him, I saw her eyes ensnared by the sharp protrusion in his loose pants. Entranced, I must have stopped licking, and she looked down at me. I smiled. She wanted us, that was clear, and the masseur seemed to have picked up on the rhythm of the music. He knew how to play his part just loudly enough so that our new harmony was maintained, and she was looking down at me like a little girl confronted by an array of ice cream. She wanted permission for pleasure, but of course she didn’t have to ask for it. Genuine pleasure, genuine joy, should never be constrained, and so I smiled and said, “Anything”, meaning that she could wrap her lips around that cock, that she could suck it deep, and get as close to joy as was possible. She heard me wrong, however. She heard “Everything”, as she wrote in her response to Mr. X, and I smiled when I read it, because “Everything” is exactly what I meant. Let’s fuck everything, let’s love everything, let’s do everything, let’s kiss everything, let’s grab everything, let’s try everything, let’s be everything.

Yes, we’ve talked a lot about the experience in the weeks since. To be honest, mostly we just make massage jokes. I might have guessed that we would have a “serious conversation” about “things”, but we haven’t felt the need. It was just so great. And that’s mostly what what we’re saying when we’re not making massage jokes: that was great. And sometimes I even get close to that state of existence I’ve sought for years, the one where everything is permitted. I’ll lose the feeling again, I know, but it’s possible.

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7 thoughts on “Everything is permitted: the result of the Masseur Experiment”

  1. You are the man, Mr. X. Many-a-husband wouldn’t be as selfless in sharing their wife’s pleasure with another person or thing! I’m glad, for everyone’s sake, the masseur wasn’t smelly or cocky. (No pun intended?!) Sounds like everyone had a pleasurable experience to remember for a lifetime or until next time. Are you all still exploring experiences with the neighbors? (The only thing that would be worrisome with that is, if it doesn’t turn out as good as this situation… You’ll have to live next to them until someone moves.) Wouldn’t want Mr. or Mrs. X in an awkward situation!

    1. Thanks for your comments, and yes, the neighbors are still neighbors, but we’re not pushing it anywhere. If something happens, it happens.

  2. My wife has a thing for certain women and I have always allowed her to pursue that as long as she keeps me in the loop on that.

  3. This is a beautiful story not just because of the incredible sexual experience you both had (and oh my, what a story it is), but because of how at the moment of truth, you both had the courage and trust and respect to embrace it so naturally and so thoroughly and to such a great end.

    We all know that getting to that moment hasn’t been all that easy (although admittedly your journey always seems to be a little more fun and exciting than has mine), but when two people are in love, and willing to open their hearts and minds completely to the possibilities, and listen, understand and accept ALL aspects of who their partner is or wants to be (including the possibility that they may have sexual appetites or interests beyond what they alone can offer), then you begin to realize what true trust and intimacy entail – what a real relationship requires.

    Sharing oneself is a scary thing, both before, during and after and the fact. That you both have been able to cross that threshold and live with not only what was done, but what it MEANS, is the most beautiful thing for me to witness. I am not suggesting that a sexually open relationship (even if only a one time thing) is right or appropriate for many people, but I am suggesting that in the absence of a way for two partners to have the courage to broach any and every topic – even the most uncomfortable or threatening ones – that I believe that not being fully expressed does short change the relationship in ways both big and small (and often with disastrous consequences), and knowingly or not creates an obstacle to living with the kind of whole-hearted intimacy and complete love that I myself seek.

    So, what does all of this mean in the big picture sexually?

    Absolutely nothing… It is what it is.

    You shared an incredible sexual experience with your partner (OK, ok… this is precisely the type of “nothing” that I could sure use a lot more of in my life!). You both lived to tell the tale (presumably with some exquisite memories to boot and joke about for the rest of your lives). And it seems as if the potential issues of jealousy and insecurity and fear which are tangible and consuming and present anytime something like this occurs have been proven to be manageable in the context of your relationship.

    So the fact that you shared your partner sexually with another man (although it does seem like arranging for her to be fucked properly by another man is still in order) in and of itself proved to be no big deal.

    So what does this mean in terms of the big picture for your relationship?

    The ability to go there and survive is a REALLY, REALLY BIG DEAL! HUGE!! MONUMENTAL!!!

    You each conquered your own personal fears, created an environment which allowed your partner to express herself completely (and which may in turn inspire her to allow you to express yourself just as completely), and have undoubtedly created a whole new level of honesty and trust between you – not to mention the opening of a whole new means for you to “communicate”. It is hard to imagine how any of those “wins” could do anything but strengthen every other aspect of your relationship!

    You are both closer to discovering in your own way, what your limits are (or will be) and how you can incorporate this new world of opportunity to becoming the most expressed and fulfilled possible versions of yourselves as well as how it can be used to bring you both closer and make your relationship more complete.

    It is hard not to be happy for you both, respect you both for having the courage and persistence to explore it, proud of what you each have already accomplished, and hopeful that this will help fill some hole in one (or both) of your desires/wants/needs and allow you to both become fully expressed personally and closer as a couple.

    I have said it before and I really do mean it – I am not a jealous person – it is completely not in my nature, but the level of frustration that you create in me is as close to jealousy as I am capable of feeling. Thankfully you have also shown me a great deal about how to push forward with grace and skill and courage (and no small amount of strategizing and thoughtfulness) to one day find myself in such a complete and total relationship! Even if it were to never includes another sexual partner, this type of openness and honesty and compassion and understanding and support and acceptance is what I would find the most fulfilling part of choosing to be with that person. If I could have all of that AND a relationship which supported or encouraged each of our sexual growth, exploration and expression would be out of this world!!!

    Thank you for the inspiration and I wish you all the best moving forward (unless you ever decide to stop sharing it with us, in which case I just wish you the best)!!!


    1. Thanks as always, James, for your incredibly well-developed comments. Yes, this is a change, even if it doesn’t exactly feel that way. There was so much that came before (and we’ve always openly talked and joked about sex, even in the “down” times) that it seemed a naturally and almost unremarkable evolution. This was a difficult post to write, because it could have (and maybe should have) been 10,000 words. There’s so much to say about moments like that, and so much you end up leaving out, although I guess that could be said of any moment if you pay close enough attention. It’s just that in good sex, the attention is locked in.

  4. As I see it, this story depicts one of the most profound levels of a relationship which allows for the inclusion of a third into the intimate privacy shared by a couple. I was involved in trying this recently, and also in a situation that included another man. My lover took great care in choosing this other man for me, for us. And the introduction was orchestrated beautifully to seduce me. But in the end, even though I knew my lover wanted to do this for us, he was going through with it only for me. I put an end to it; I wanted more, I wanted it to be about both of us.

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