Our Massage Turned Me Into His Slick, Moaning Pussy

I’ve had a massive crush on my best friend Alex for fifteen years, but I never confessed—friendship always trumped the risk of sex ruining everything.

He surprised me with a weekend couples’ resort getaway he’d won in a raffle. “Just relaxation,” he said. “Massages, wine, hot tub in the suite. No pressure.” I packed thinking it would be innocent, including a simple black bikini just in case.

We checked into a private villa with ocean views. First morning: couple’s massage in the spa pavilion. The therapist pair—soft-spoken women in white—explained the protocol and left us to undress behind a screen. I stripped to nothing; Alex did the same. When we stepped out, towels around our waists, our eyes locked for a second too long. His body was even better than fantasy—lean muscle, faint trail of hair leading down to his thick cock hanging heavy between toned thighs, balls full and low. I felt my big tits ache, nipples hardening instantly, my pussy already leaking slick arousal down my inner thighs.

We lay face-down on parallel tables inches apart. Warm oil, strong hands kneading my back, my legs. I bit my lip to stay quiet, but soft sighs escaped anyway. Every time I glanced sideways, Alex’s shoulders tensed, his breathing uneven. When they had us flip, the sheet slipped just enough. I saw him—his dick thickening, half-hard, veined shaft curving slightly, balls tightening. He caught me looking. Neither of us spoke.

The session ended. We dressed in silence, skin still buzzing, and spent the afternoon at a quiet wine tasting on the terrace. Glasses of crisp rosé, easy laughter, but the air between us felt charged. Every brush of fingers when passing a glass sent heat straight to my core.

That night we retreated to the villa. The private jacuzzi on the deck overlooked dark waves. After the wine tasting, we’d both changed into our swimsuits—me in the black bikini that barely contained my heavy tits, him in dark swim trunks that did little to hide the outline of his cock. We poured more wine, slipped off the suits under our robes for the short walk to the tub, then dropped the robes at the edge and stepped in naked together—no therapists, no audience, just us.

Steam rose around us. Our knees touched under the surface. Then thighs. The jets pulsed against sensitive skin.

He looked at me, eyes dark. “This feels different now.”

“Yeah,” I whispered.

I moved closer until I was straddling his lap. His hands settled on my hips, then slid up to cup my big tits through the water, thumbs brushing my dark, pebbled nipples. He lifted their heavy weight, squeezing gently, making them bounce slightly as water sluiced off. My leaking pussy throbbed, slickness mixing with the bubbles, clit swollen against his hardening shaft.

I reached down, tugged his trunks lower underwater until his thick cock sprang free—rigid, veined, head flushed purple, balls drawn up tight beneath. I stroked him slowly, feeling the heat, the girth that made my core clench.

No hesitation. I kissed him—slow at first, then hungry. I guided his tip to my entrance and sank onto him in one smooth motion.

He groaned into my mouth. I rocked slowly, savoring the stretch, the way his dick filled me completely, balls slapping lightly against my ass with each downward thrust. Water sloshed around us. His hands roamed—squeezing my big tits hard, pinching nipples until I arched and they felt even heavier, aching. I rode him steadily, building rhythm, my leaking pussy clenching around his shaft, juices coating him as pleasure coiled tight.

We came together—me shuddering first, walls fluttering and milking him, soaking his balls with my release. He followed instantly—hips jerking as his cock throbbed, hot cum spurting deep inside me in thick ropes, filling me until it leaked out around his base, milky trails drifting in the water.

We didn’t stop.

After catching our breath we moved inside. He pressed me against the glass door overlooking the ocean, fucked me from behind while my palms flattened on the cool surface, his balls slapping my clit with every pound. Later, on the king bed, I rode him again—slower this time, grinding until we both shattered once more, his cum mixing with my slick on the sheets. In the shower afterward, water streaming over us, he lifted me against the tile and took me standing, my legs wrapped around his waist, tits bouncing as he emptied into me again.

By the time we collapsed, tangled and spent, dawn was creeping in. His arm draped heavy over my waist. I smiled into the dark, already replaying every second.

We still had another full day.