It was my fortieth birthday and my sweet husband Kumar had promised me a very special present. I wondered what it might be — a nice meal in an expensive restaurant perhaps, or a weekend of pampering at a health spa. Whatever it was , I knew that in his thoughtful way he would choose something very memorable, but I was not prepared for the night of pleasure that was his gift to me.

First I should tell you a little about us. We had met fifteen years earlier when I was working as a nursing sister in the Accident and Emergency Department of a large city centre hospital. Kumar had just been appointed as a Consultant Physician, and I often found myself working on his team. In the high pressure atmosphere of a busy Casualty Unit absolute trust is essential between team members, and he later admitted that he specifically asked for me as someone he could totally rely on in an emergency.

As you will have guessed from his name, Kumar was from India, but, as was common, he had come to England to complete his specialist training after graduating in Medicine at one of the premier Medical Schools in New Delhi. He was tall —over six feet in height — with long black hair, which he kept tied back in a pony tail, and a beautiful olive complexion. He was, and is, very handsome with an aquiline nose and piercing deep brown eyes, and the junior nurses all fell in love with him.

The work of a Casualty Unit is exhausting, and I was often too tired after a day on my feet for much of a social life. When I mentioned this in passing one day over a snatched break for a cup of tea, Kumar suggested that I might find a massage an ideal way to relax at the end of a hard week. When I said that I didn’t know any suitable massage parlours — they had a reputation for being a front for something else rather less savoury — and the cost of a session at a health spa was way out of my league, he replied that, if I was agreeable, he would like to offer his services. I was somewhat surprised by this, and I said that I didn’t realise that training in massage techniques was part of medical training, although I knew that physiotherapists still used massage in the treatment of musculoskeletal injuries. He laughed, and explained that during his time at university he had become fascinated by traditional Indian medicine. Although he had been trained in modern medical practices, he was convinced that more ancient forms of medicine were not obsolete and could complement hi-tech treatments, especially for the rehabilitation of patients following severe trauma. His fellow doctors were sceptical about this, but after making a comprehensive presentation at a weekend conference on rehabilitation with many detailed case studies, he was eventually able to convince the hospital management to fund a small rehabilitation unit offering massage as one of the treatments on offer.

I didn’t take him up on his offer at the time, as I thought it would be unprofessional, but once we were married it became a weekly ritual on a Friday evening. He had been right, of course and, with the soothing away of the tensions of a stressful working week, I was able to enjoy the weekends in a much more relaxed frame of mind.

To Western minds the focus of intercourse has primarily been on vaginal or anal penetration. In contrast Eastern cultures have long considered lovemaking to be an art, and there are many Oriental sexual manuals offering guidance for couples on harmonious and pleasurable sexual relationships. In the first weeks of our marriage Kumar opened my eyes to Eastern sexuality. He explained to me that sensual massage was an important part of lovemaking, and could add immensely to the pleasure of both husband and wife. Although his penis was of average length, it was quite small in girth, but I never had any cause for dissatisfaction as he was a sensitive and imaginative lover, and my weekly massage was therefore often a prelude to hours of extreme sexual bliss.


My birthday fell on a Friday, but apart from a large bouquet of flowers that was delivered in the afternoon, there was no sign of any special present, although, like a child at Christmas, before he came home from the hospital I searched all the places where he might have concealed something. We did go out for a meal at a local restaurant, but that was not unusual, and by the time we got home I was beginning to feel rather let down and a bit irritable.

After a cup of coffee and a drink — a gin and tonic for me and a single malt whisky for him — Kumar announced that it was time for my weekly massage. He sent me upstairs for a shower, and told me to come back down again (in fifteen minutes time) to the small room where he had installed a massage table and other necessary items.

Kumar had prepared the room with great care as he had been taught in India by an Ayurvedic massage guru. Flasks of scented oils were warming to body temperature in a water bath and muslin bags of special herbs and spices sat maturing on a metal tray over a spirit burner. When I entered the room was lit only by scented candles and Indian ragas play quietly on the CD player filling the air with their seductive melodies.

Kumar was wearing a simple wrap over sarong, and I noticed that he had removed all his body hair, which was unusual and surprising, but there was nothing else that was different from normal. I entered the room wearing a simple robe overs my bra and panties, but he instructed me to remove these as well as the robe and to lie face down on the table completely naked.

“Tonight is specially for you, my darling Erika,” he said, “and by its end you will have experienced many new and exciting sensations. It is my wish that you will enjoy many climaxes, each more piercing and perfect than the one before, until you are no longer aware of your surroundings and know only the consuming power of breath-taking passion.”

Standing at my side he poured the first of the richly scented oils onto my back and down my spine until it ran between the rounded cheeks of my bottom. Starting with my feet — he had always maintained that the feet are the most important part of the body — he then began to knead my muscles firmly until he was satisfied that all the knots of tension had been removed. He slowly worked his way up my legs, paying great attention to my naked buttocks — which was very arousing — and finishing with my hands and arms.

He then instructed me to turn over onto my back, and after pouring more oil onto my torso and legs, he began to massage me with long sensitive strokes from my head, along the length of my body and down my legs. When he started to stroke and squeeze my breasts and knead my nipples between his fingers, I began to feel the first stirrings of excitement in my pussy.

Once he was satisfied that I was becoming sexually aroused, he gently pushed my legs apart and began to run the tips of his fingers across my mound and up and down either side of my pussy. After several minutes of this my inner lips were fully engorged and I could feel the juices leaking out of my vagina. It was only when he thought I was ready for my first climax that Kumar touched my most private parts. He first spread my lips like the wings of a butterfly, and then gently inserted two fingers of one hand into my vagina to caress my g-spot while rubbing and squeezing my clitoris with the other until the hood was fully retracted and my little bud was naked and throbbing with desire.

I was soon squirming and moaning with pleasure under his sensitive fingers, and exquisite waves of delight rippled through my body from my pussy all the way up to my breasts as I came in ecstasy, crying out incoherently as I reached the summit of rapture. By now I had lost all measure of time, and my orgasm seemed to go in for eternity, but eventually the tide of pleasure receded and I lay there in post orgasmic lassitude with a blissful feeling of relaxation in every part of my body.

Once my mind had returned from the heavenly place of colour and light where I had been carried in my ecstasy, I glanced up to see where Kumar was, and I nearly fell off the table in shock. Standing just beyond my feet was another man. He was naked and I could see his limp penis hanging between his legs. It was big even in its flaccid state, and glistening with oil in the flickering light of the candles. With the part of my mind which was still working I realised that it was Mr Adams, our recently retired next door neighbour. I had only just got used to calling him by his first name Leonard, and here he was looking at my most intimate parts in the most excitingly lascivious manner.

For a moment I could not see Kumar, but when he went to pick up two of the little bags of muslin, I saw that he was naked too. His penis was fully erect and pulsing gently, and then I had the first inkling of what he had meant earlier by his strange words.

He then started to pat me with the hot bags of muslin, starting with my feet again, and then every part of my body including my breasts and my exposed pussy. The effect of the hot spices was like sharp needles penetrating my flesh, and soon every part of me was on fire.

Leonard was stroking his penis with long slow strokes until it was standing out from his body like a ramrod. I had seen many naked men in my job, but it was by far the biggest and thickest I had ever seen, and I wondered what it would feel like inside me.

My level of arousal was by now higher than I had ever known, and in my intoxicated state I was desperate to be possessed and ravished. I had never experienced feelings of depravity and wantonness before, but now I desired nothing more than to be fucked senseless by those two magnificent cocks.

Leonard moved between my legs and stroked the bulbous distended head of his cock along the length of my slit before putting it at the entrance to my cunt and pushing it slowly into my tingling tunnel until it had penetrated deeper than I thought could be possible and his heavy balls were resting on my buttocks. He then began to fuck me in long strokes, almost withdrawing his cock before plunging it back until it was hitting my cervix. His cock was so thick it felt as if I was being split apart, but in a most wonderful way.

Kumar stood behind me, and tilting back my head, he thrust his smaller cock into my mouth and deep into my throat. God, it was amazing being totally possessed by two men at the same time. It felt so good and another sharper orgasm pierced me, the waves of pleasure carrying me to a height of ecstasy I had not thought possible.

Kumar and Leonard fucked me mercilessly, thrusting deep into my mouth and cunt with a coordinated rhythm that grew faster and faster with every passing minute. I was now in a constant state of orgasm, the exquisite sensations going on and on until I was outside of time in a world of extreme sexual pleasure. Both men came at the same time, their cocks thickening and pulsing as they flooded my mouth and cunt with hot cum until it was running out of me in rivers of sweet sticky cream.

I must have passed out, because the next thing I was aware of was when I was lying on Leonard’s chest with his still erect cock nestled between the distended lips of my pussy. When he realised that I was conscious he pushed it back inside me, filling what felt like an aching void. Kumar must have been standing behind us, because I felt warm oil being poured onto my buttocks and fingers massaging my rosebud.

Two or three fingers were then pushed beyond my sphincter, turning and probing to open up my hole, and when they were withdrawn they were replaced by the head of a cock, my husband’s cock. I had read somewhere that experiments had shown that double penetration of the vagina and anus gives women the most satisfying orgasm they had ever known. The article had also said that a slow and gradual build up is necessary if women are to properly experience the immense pleasure of a combined vaginal and anal orgasm.

I was certainly ready, and all I can say is that what the article said is true. Somehow my two lovers managed to coordinate their thrusting and before long I was lifted to an even higher level of pleasure than I had already reached that evening. Kumar had promised me an extra special birthday gift, and the sensations that ravaged me were more special than anything I could have dreamed of, so special that even now I don’t have the words to describe what it felt like. Since that night, threesome sex has become part of our normal sexual practice, and often ends up with double penetration, and it never ceases to give me the most mind blowing orgasms.

By the time Kumar and Leonard had filled me with another load of cum we were all exhausted. My two lovers carried me upstairs to the shower and carefully and gently washed every part of my body. After laying me in bed, they both joined me under the duvet, one on either side, and we fell asleep in the blissful slumber of satiated desire. Leonard fucked me again in the morning in a the more traditional missionary position, but this was a gentle and tender lovemaking with many kisses and whispered words of endearment, while Kumar watched and masturbated in obvious satisfaction.

Before that memorable night I had not realised that my husband had a very kinky side nor, more amazingly, that I shared it. It was avery pleasant revelation, and since then we have enjoyed a sex life way beyond the ordinary. My fortieth birthday present of Ayurvedic massage with added spice has opened the door to a hitherto unknown world of ecstasy and rapture which I hope to enjoy time and again for the rest of my life.

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