On the first night of their honeymoon the newlyweds were enjoying an after dinner cocktail at the beachside bar. They nuzzled against each other as they looked out over the ocean, watching the vibrant colors of the sunset. Being far from home, on a tropical island, was both freeing and exciting. They had read this resort was a favorite destination for swingers, and looked forward to dipping their toes into that flirty lifestyle for the first time. However, tonight was just for themselves. They would finish their drinks and then head back to their room for some much anticipated honeymoon sex.

As they were about to leave, another couple walked up to them. They introduced themselves and struck up a casual conversation. The other couple was also on their honeymoon, having started a week ago. Being in a similar situation, and having similar body types, the mutual attraction among the four of them was easy to read. It was all but certain they would cross paths again in the next few days, and imagining the possibilities made everyone a bit more flirtatious.

The other couple asked if a spa visit had been scheduled.

“Not yet.” The wife answered. “But we were hoping to.”

“We highly recommend the couples massage.” The other man offered.

“Oh yes.” The other woman added. “It was… Amazing.”

“Thanks for the recommendation. We will book one tomorrow.” The husband answered. “Did they offer any… extras?” He raised his eyebrows in a suggestive way, playfully joking with a hint of honest curiosity.

“Well, not exactly the typical happy ending, but…” he hesitated to elaborate, but the women leaned in close and whispered loud enough for them all to hear.

"They did, … mouth stuff.”

Like a couple of amateur actors trying to portray a shocking surprise, the two women opened their eyes wide and covered their mouths with their fingertips. The faux shock lasted only a second, and then broke down into excited giggles. The term “mouth stuff” was silly, naughty, and yet very intriguing.

The next day the husband and wife arrived at their spa appointment. After a night of passionate honeymoon sex and a morning of mimosas, they were relaxed and eagerly looking forward to their special treatment. The spa hostess led them to their private massage suite. The session started with a couples steam shower. There was a wide variety of jets and sprays on all the walls. The two of them moved around, testing the water patterns against their muscles and other delicate places. The water and steam were both cleansing and relaxing.

After the shower they put on fluffy robes and walked to the massage room. They were greeted by the two masseuses and their two assistants. The four employees were wearing the resort issued uniform. A triangle string bikini top in a floral print, with a matching wrap around skirt on bottom. It was just the right combination of employee formal mixed with island casual. All four women were native islanders, and moved with a fluidity that appeared almost magical.

The two masseuses were taller than average, with well defined arm and shoulder muscles. They were a perfect blend of grace and power. Confident in their abilities with just a hint of intimidation.

The two assistants were much smaller than average. There was a petit and delicate quality to them that carried an air of submissiveness. It provided a striking contrast to the two dominant masseuses.

The husband and wife were instructed to lie down on the tables. Unlike typical massages, they were told to start out on their backs. The assistants gracefully swapped the robes for draped towels as the newlyweds stretched out on the padded tables. Soothing music, dim lights, and hint of tropical scent in the air set the perfect tone. The assistants placed steamed towels over the husband and wife’s eyes, removing any visual distractions from the experience, and adding to the sensation of being covered.

The masseuses started with the couple's hands. They spread the warm oil over the fronts and backs, and began working up and down each finger, isolating and rolling each segment one at a time. The assistants stayed near the heads, and performed a gentle massage of the temples and lower jaw.

Being massaged in multiple places by different people was a beautiful level of sensory overload. The newlyweds quickly gave up any self conscious worries, and succumbed to the warm feeling of melting into the table.

After working their way up both arms, the masseuses relocated to the feet. They worked the soles, toes, and arches before starting up the legs. As they pulled and squeezed, encircling the calves with their strong hands, they lifted the limb slightly to get all around it. When they set the leg back down it was placed a little farther out to the side. After repeating this process with the other leg the guests were left with a little more space between their thighs. It was not uncomfortable or embarrassing, but they both felt a bit more open and exposed. This was a good sign.

The assistants moved to the chest. Their massage technique was professional and respectful. While chest, breasts, and nipples are sensual areas, their touch was gentle and measured. They did not focus on the nipples, but they did not avoid them either. It was thoroughly relaxing, without worry or concern.

As the masseuses reached the upper legs their hands were able to reach almost all the way around each thigh. They worked the thick muscles from both the outside and from between the thighs.

At just the right time the assistants lifted the towels and the masseuses continued their massage up over the pelvis. They worked from the outer hips in towards the center.

The masseuse working on the wife ran her open hands up and down, following each hip valley, from hip bone down to inner thigh, and inching closer to center with each pass. Eventually her hands were gliding directly over the wife’s vulva. Each stroke went the full length, from touching the edge of butt cheek all the way up to her belly. To an outside observer it would have looked very simple and professional, but the wife was enjoying it much more than that. While not overtly sexual, it felt amazing to have slow steady pressure sliding over and over across her sensitive skin.

The masseuse spent extra time in this area knowing the effect it was having. As a part of their training, the masseuses had taken turns being on the receiving end of this treatment, and knew exactly how good it felt. It was arousing without being sexually engaging. As it continued, the masseuse ever so slightly separated their fingers. The contact shifted from being just on the surface, to letting their fingers gently glide on either side and between the labia. Not in an invasive way, but more a don’t miss any spots sort of way.

The masseuse working on the husband proceeded to his pelvis as well. The assistant removed his towel, exposing his penis laying on his lower stomach. While not quite fully erect, it was pointing straight at his belly button. At first the masseuse ran her hands up and down on either side of his hip valleys, but eventually she worked her way closer to center, and brought her hands up underneath his balls, and up along his shaft. It was a slow steady motion that moved the full length and just beyond. By no means would it be called a hand job, but it covered all the same terrain. Without too much speed or focus, it was as thorough as possible without being an outright act of sexual interaction. She maintained her professional routine, while monitoring the swelling and hardening of his penis. She had done this before, and knew he was enjoying every second. She enjoyed arousing him, and hoped that when the couple left the spa they would be both relaxed and frisky.

After pelvis and stomach attention it was time to roll over. The husband and wife made brief eye contact with each other as they rolled over. The look of satisfaction was evident to each of them.

The tables had just the right amount of recesses sculpted into the padding for the guests to comfortably lie face down. His cock fit nicely in a centered trough, while her breasts were nestled into similarly shaped depressions. The assistants draped a fresh steamed cloth across the upper half of the oval head rests. As the patients lowered their faces into the center of the opening, their eyes were once again closed by a soothing warm cloth.

The masseuses started at the shoulders, and began working down the back. Kneading, pressing, and pushing deep into the muscle tissue. Their strength and pressure were impressive. The patients were transforming into limp puddles of bliss.

The assistants massaged the neck and head, lightly scratching their finger nails down to the scalp. They worked their way around the head, combing their fingers though the hair, and gently pulling at the ears.

The masseuses worked down over the buttocks and thighs. While not as arousing as the pelvic work, it was similarly satisfying to have a stranger touch and glide over these intimate areas.

The assistants sat down on low rolling stools, and began to massage the guest’s face from below, through the open cushion. They worked the cheeks and the chin as far as the headrest would allow. The husband and wife enjoyed the contact, but thought it odd that this had not been done when they were face up. Now that they were face down there was limited access. Then the delicate fingers drifted from the chin to the lips. They rubbed and squeezed, mushing the patients lips in ways they had never experienced before at any previous massage. The fingers isolated the lower lip and pulled it down, running some fingers inside and some outside as it palpated the inner tissues. The massage oil tasted wonderful. It was a gentle blend of citrus and mint.

The initial feelings of awkwardness faded quickly to appreciation. They wondered why all massages did not include the lips. After the lower lip, the same treatment was repeated on the upper lip. Running their fingers between lips and gums reminded the guests of the cheek muscles inspection that is performed by the dentist at their usual dental appointments. And almost as if the assistants could read minds, the delicate fingers probed deeper inside the cheeks, working the thick flesh from both the outside and the inside. It probably looked funny, but felt oh so good. It was peacefully relaxing to let go of all inhibitions and let the massage go wherever it wanted to go.

After thoroughly exploring the lips, gums, and cheeks, the assistants managed to coax the guests' jaws open just enough to slide their fingers in deeper. Their petite fingers worked their way into the private space of the mouth, and found the waiting tongues. They squeezed and stroked the tongues, encouraging them to relax and hang down. They pulled at the length, stroked, and palpated the squirming muscles. Like a lazy game of hide and seek, the fingers and tongues intertwined and danced around each other.

The guests soon realized that unlike a dental procedure where saliva collects in the back of the mouth and needs to be dealt with periodically, the face down position allowed any saliva to drip down and out of their mouths. There was no awkward interruption with noisy suction straws. They just gave themselves over to the magic fingers and let them have their way.

The mouth and tongue massage was so internally personal and captivating they almost forgot about the masseuses working in their backsides. The strong hands running from lower back, over the buttocks, and down the upper thighs were mesmerizing. Up and down, over and over, they barely noticed the hands were moving closer to center with every pass. Eventually the sides of the hands were riding the crease down the center between their cheeks. With plenty of massage oil, the fingers were effortlessly gliding deeper and deeper in the valley with each stroke, and soon made contact with that sensitive pucker. It was not focused, and did not intrude, it just brushed against it each time it passed by.

The wife was the first to move. Whether it was a Pavlovian response or just a reflex of habit did not really matter. As the masseuse slid their finger tip across her pucker, the wife ever so slightly rolled her hips back and lifted her ass up. An outside observer would likely have missed it, but to the masseuse in contact with her it was very clear. The masseuse shortened the length of her massage strokes until it was just at the sphincter. With one hand she kept the cheeks spread, letting the other hand focus on the target. She rubbed circles round and round following the ring of wrinkled skin, tracing the sphincter muscles just below the surface. Over time the sphincter relaxed, allowing fingers that passed over the center to dip down just a bit. The tightly locked gateway was beginning to drop its guard.

The masseuse closed one hand and extended the knuckle of her middle finger. She applied it at the center and gently rotated back and forth, like a juicer would approach half a lemon. The extended knuckle worked the center, while the rest of the knuckles swirled around the wrinkly perimeter. The constant contact continued to relax and open the pucker, slowly making space without raising any alarms of intrusion.

The wife was floating on cloud nine. She was limp as a rag doll, with sensual contact pressing into her at both ends. She was no longer evaluating the situation, just accepting and processing the waves of pleasure being sent from the far reaches of her nervous system. The split focus was shutting down her defenses.

When the masseuse had relaxed enough of a divot, she transitioned to gently palpitating the sphincter ring. With a finger tip just barely inside and thumb on the outside, she squeezed and stroked the muscle, working her way around the circle. The finger was not so much inserted inside, but rather taking advantage of the relaxed and widened nature of the gateway. The assistant underneath left the tongue and returned to working around the lips. Both openings were being traced palpated, around and around. The wife had been reduced to a collection of happy holes.

The husband eventually moved as well, but his action was more intentional. He rolled his hips pack and pushed up against her strong touch. His mind was justifying it as providing better access, and giving approval for more pressure, but the masseuse interpreted it as a direct request. This sort of reaction was common with male clients, and she took it as a sign that she was welcome to continue her exploration between his cheeks. She reduced the length of her massage strokes little by little. until they were just focused on his tight pucker. Back and forth, round and round, her touch confirmed she had read his request correctly, and was happy to proceed.

Men and women guests responded differently, and the masseuses used slightly different techniques on them. The women usually responded best to slow and steady motions, relaxing and lulling the muscles into submission. Like a calm yoga session that sneaks the progress in without much notice. Calm and repetitive motion was predictable, soothing, and comforting.

On the other hand, men’s puckers usually started out tighter than the women, but they were easier to relax. It was almost as if the men knew they wanted it, and they just needed someone else to lead the way. The men responded to a stronger touch, and a more intentional pressure, always pushing the guest a little farther along with each repetition.

With the husband she went through the same motions as her coworker, back and forth, round and round, rotating a knuckle in the middle, but she moved a bit faster. It was more like stretching out limbs and muscles before a strenuous task. His sphincter cooperated and let her press deeper into his wrinkled divot.

The husband’s physical excitement was hidden beneath him, but his mental bliss was evident to both the masseuse and the assistant. He gave up control of both his holes the way a sub relishes being used in the hands of others. His openings welcomed them in, with minimal resistance. He secretly hoped they would push farther, and he was not disappointed. When she reached the step of centering her finger tip and palpating the sphincter muscle around and around, she let her finger push in a little deeper than necessary. With her finger one knuckle inside, and her thumb on the outside, she was able to squeeze and work the ring tissue from both inside and out. The assistant matched the circular massage with his lips, stretching and pulling at the flesh around his mouth.

As if they were coordinating their efforts, they both began working their fingers in deeper. The assistant found his tongue again, and followed that thick muscle back to its root. He teetered on the edge of panic, desperately wanting her to push past his comfort zone, and uncertain what his reaction would be.

As a distraction to his oral capacity concerns, the masseuse pushed another knuckle in and continued working her way around. Her finger was no longer just inside the gate, but clearly working along the interior walls of his rectum. Each time she swept over his prostate he let out a breathy sigh, escaping around the petite assistant’s fingers. It was not at all language, but pure emotional release. The wife heard his labored breathing and answered him back with her own audible sighs of satisfaction. It was truly the most thorough massage that either of them had ever experienced. So many hands and fingers, working inside and out, overwhelmed their concentration and blurred their ability to focus.

When the massage ended the four employees escorted the guests to the showers, where they all helped to wash away the massage oils, and administer a refreshing skin lotion. Only after getting dressed and leaving the spa did the wife and husband speak again.

“That. Was. Amazing.” The wife said, still slightly dazed from the experience.

“It certainly was.” The husband answered. “We should find that other couple and thank them for the recommendation.”

“Mmmm. Yes.” The wife replied. “We should give them a… very special thanks.”

She gave her husband a sly, mischievous look. He knew what she was hinting at, and he wanted the same thing.

“Maybe as a thank you, we could give them our own version of… mouth stuff.”