I asked if she wanted it, to which she vehemently declined.A week passed and one day when we were basking in the glow of the morning sex, my wife said to me that she had visited this massage addict friend, and had to stand speaking to her in her room as Manoj massaged her. I immediately held her close, my penis rubbing her abdomen, and asked her for more juicy details.She only gave away that her friend, though she did not show it to Manoj was top less and Manoj seemed not interested. I said may be it was because she was there, they might have acted modestly. Then, my wife surprised me by asking if she could try that Massage once.I said, suppressing my excitement, by all means. She playfully patted my ass and said I know your kinky interests. I replied it was she who wanted a massage. She defended that Manoj was innocent and professional, and she would stop if anything went weird. I said let’s see, ask him once.So my wife called him up right away from her mobile. She kept the speaker. “Come in.” says Dad, lying on his side with his head on a pillow.Mom walks in wearing a yellow sheer shimmering chiffon gown with nothing underneath. She carries a tray on which there are two cups of coffee and the little red book. The room’s Venetian blinds narrow the rays of the sun. There are some dust particles drifting in the streaks of sun light. She places the tray on the dresser. The aroma of the coffee floats out over the room denting the scent of sex. She steps to the love nest, lifts the blanket and then the sheet. She grins with her mind framing a snapshot of her two favorite people locked together. She leans over and kisses her daughter’s forehead. She takes the book off the tray and walks to the head of the bed. She says nothing but points to a line in the book. Her husband and daughter read together softly: “Make the two of us unite and blend as the embryo is refined and the treasure is conserved.”Mom smiles, “Can I pour?” Pammy, looks at her mother noting she is.
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