. I don't know ... different somehow. I mean she looked like my sister, but she had done something to her hair, instead of just putting it in a pony t...il. And she had on some makeup, but it wasn't all pasted on like I expected. And all she was wearing were jeans and a T shirt. I realized she wasn't wearing any shoes. Her socks were made to look like bones in a skeleton's foot. Ha ha. But I couldn't put my finger on why she looked different until she went over to the table and leaned over to. That was until those strokes down the inner thigh turned into brushes of my balls. I stayed still, thinking she is just doing a thorough job and touching my balls accidentally. After all this is a professional massage in an award winning spa, not a seedy parlour. But the brushes kept happening and the rubbing of my glutes crept deeper towards my crack. I found myself enjoying it, the thrill of being touched whilst my wife was laying just feet away from me was starting to make me hard. I shifted. ..down there." "Louder please Teddy..the gentlemen can't hear you." He sighed, and his sigh gave me a hard on. "I'm kind of small...down there," he said louder. "Oh, Teddy. Don’t disappoint me in front of my friends. We have a deal. What does that mean...down there...what is down there?" I could see his hands shaking. He looked at the floor and squeezed his eyes shut. He was so fucking humiliated, and we had just started. "My...cock...my cock is kind of. He put his hand out, extending the joint. ‘I figured.’ Ace took it between his thumb and forefinger and took a pull only an experienced stoner could handle. He had been smoking weed since he was eleven. Ace was the one who influenced Imar to take up the craft. ‘Are you messing with those South Philly heads?’ ‘I do my shit solo, y tu sabes. Something making you worry?’ ‘I overheard one of them getting riled up about ‘some Puerto Rican.’ They seemed like they was on that jealous shit, and you- I.