Six on One - by twoofer

  Six on One-bytwoofer

  1.

  The brown wooden door had a glass inset that distorted the images coming through it, like the ones used for shower doors or bathroom windows. It suited the second floor of the slightly run-down building on Mine St. The glass announced Therapeutic Massage in three inch black letters and underneath it said "Richard Dillon, MsT" Beneath Richie's name was "Ellen Brooks, MsT."

  Richie and Ellen had shared this office space for nine years now, but they barely saw each other except for their monthly meeting to pay their common bills. It was hardly a meeting. They just both showed up and rummaged through their paperwork. There were few bills -- the rent, of course, the laundry bill (they both hated doing laundry), massage supplies and such. They also caught up on sales of the oil, various muscle rubs for use at home, specially scented creams and oils, also for home use, bath oils, foot soaks. As usual, the over-the-counter sales were negligible.

  Ellen had just written Richie a check for her half and was about to leave when Richie said "Hang on, Ellen. There is something I wanted to ask you."

  "Yes?"

  "Would you mind if I used empty space in the schedule to do some small group things?"

  "Like what?" Ellen asked. "Do you want to run small classes?"

  "That's not a bad idea, but it's not what I had in mind. The other day I had an hour between clients and I took a lie down on my table. As I lay there I started thinking about when I went to massage school and, in particular, something we used to do that I really liked. Towards the end of the school program, when we all could function pretty well without the instructor wandering around prompting us, we used to do six-way massage."

  "What's six-way massage?" Ellen asked.

  "I guess they didn't do that in the school you went to. I have heard of it from people who went to other schools than mine. Anyway, six-way is what it sounds like. You have seven good massage therapists in the room. Each takes a turn on the table to receive a massage from the other six."

  "How do you organize that? It sounds like chaos."

  "Actually, it's nothing like chaos. Draping would be chaos, of course, so the person on the table is nude. The body is divided into six areas -- head, arms with some chest, legs to the hip and the rest of the chest together with the abdomen. The six make hand contact with the lucky seventh very carefully, because the energy of all those hands at once can be overwhelming. Then, everyone does his part. The lucky guy rolls over and the crew does the other side. At the end he or she rolls back and the six put their hands palm up all around the body and lift. The lift at the end is mind-blowing. Have you ever been massaged by twelve hands?"

  "I can't say that I have. I'm not even sure I want to be."

  "If you ever had, you would want to be. So, here are my two questions. First, do you mind if I use the office for this if I could promise not to be underfoot when you were working? And, second, would you like to join us?"

  Ellen did not answer immediately. She and Richie had massaged each other many times over the years. They were always both nude under the sheet, but they had never actually worked without the sheet. Surprisingly, since both of them were more than willing to perform "extra services" for their clients, sex had never come up between them, nor did either of them indicate any interest in having it do so. There was the question of vetting the other participants. Of course, Ellen and Richie knew lots of other therapists from professional society meetings and they knew many of the same people. They might be able to come up with an acceptable guest list between them."

  "Yeah, ok. I'd like to try that. We could come up with the guest list together, right?"

  "Of course. Either one of us could reject anyone we please."

  "And it won't turn into some stupid orgy, right?"

  "That isn't my plan and I hope not. I couldn't give you a guarantee for the guests' behavior, of course, but if it seems to be happening I will oppose it quickly and firmly."

  "Ok. So who would you invite?"

  They each proposed a couple of their close friends, people they had been at school with. That left one slot.

  Ellen said, "Maybe my teacher from the massage school. He's still teaching there and he's a wonderful therapist."

  "Ok, then, you call the folks you know and I'll call my friends. We could meet here this Saturday at five. Make sure everyone understands that the person on the table will be nude. We don't want anyone finding out at the last minute and backing out."

  "Right. I'm not about do go downstairs to Mine St. to find a massage therapist who just happens to be passing by."

  2.

  Saturday, 4:30PM. Richie has just come through the brown wooden door. He switches on the lights. It's a small office with a single light on the desk that is powered by a switched outlet. There is a brown wooden desk facing the door and two visitor chairs on the left wall. Another visitor's chair is pushed in under the desk. There is an appointment calender on the desk and a framed photograph of Sai Baba. Ellen is a follower of Sai Baba, sort of. She knows all about him and she thinks he is wonderful but hers is a solitary adoration. There is a group of Sai Baba followers in town but she has never attended their meetings. Well, once, but she really couldn't follow the chanting of the sutras in Sanskrit. So she reads his words in English and tries to live her life by them.

  Richie, on the other hand, has no spiritual aspirations. He is in his thirties, well built, healthy and quite attractive -- so-called rugged good looks, but with a baby face that projects pure innocence. He is single and intends to remain so. That child-like innocence and his soft manners are the mark of, perhaps, the deadliest pussy hound and he lives up to his persona. Of an evening if he feels the urge for female company, he picks up his cell phone and auto-dials one of the names in his electronic little black book. Amazing how many names can be kept in a cellphone memory! In short order, there is a knock on his door and a starry-eyed lady enters, overjoyed to have been chosen to bask in his sexual expertise. If it were a matter of a couple of ladies, a few desperate ladies, say, one could write off his reputation. But the little black cellphone is crammed with names and phone numbers and every one of them would have showed up in the time it took to shower, dress and travel. It was this surfeit of sex partners that allowed him to keep his relationship with Ellen on a strictly business basis, since Ellen was a very attractive woman. When Richie was watching an episode of the Sopranos and Tony Soprano said, "Don't eat where you shit" Richie nodded sagely.

  Speaking of Ellen, she entered the office a couple of minutes after Richie.

  "Hey, Richie, I have three people coming -- Paul and Emmy who were in my old massage class and Alec, the massage teacher."

  "Cool" said Richie "I have two, Susan and Gret. I have traded massage with both of them and they are very good."

  "And what else have you traded with them?"

  Ellen was aware of Richie's favorite hobby. She was a bit bewildered that he had never made a pass at her, considering that she would have definitely caught it. Not that Ellen was wanting for passes, some of which she blew off and some of which she found too good to throw away. It was just that never having even had the least indication of interest from him, she felt somehow less attractive than she knew she was. All she had to do was look in the mirror. She was slim, but not skinny. She definitely had curves. She had long, shiny hair, dark brown. It was her natural color, so it went well with her eyes and her skin tones. Her shoulders were a bit square, perhaps over-developed, either from the regular upper-body exercise her profession provided or from toting her fairly large breasts around all day. She really preferred not to wear a bra -- she believed they cause breast cancer -- but she was a little too "big" to get away with it. They had not started to succumb to gravity -- she was only 29 -- but they were just unruly without strict guidance.

  The door opened and a striking blond walked in.

  "Gret!" said Richie, and he met her with a hug and kiss on the neck. Ellen thought that Gret was kind of crushing her breasts into Richie and it looked like the hand she couldn't see was grabbing his ass. It might have been Ellen's imagination. Or not. They broke the clinch.

  "Gret, this is my partner, Ellen. Ellen, Gret."

  "Nice to meet you", said Gret, extending her hand. She had a very faint accent.

  "Nice to meet you, too" said Ellen, shaking her hand.

  "Gret advertises that she does Swedish massage. Actually, she's the only one of us who have ever been there. Not that it matters."

  "Sure it does, Richie", said Gret. "We are taught a lot of stuff that isn't taught here."

  "I bet", thought Ellen.

  Gret went on. "We learn the ball exercises, how to do a proper sauna treatment, lymphatic drainage, extensive stretches, many things."

  "What is a proper sauna treatment?"

  "Oh, it is very involved, actually. We use branches with leaves attached to stimulate the skin."

  "Spanking" thought Ellen. "She's a dominatrix!"

  "At a certain point, cold water is used to cool down and close the pores. And the timing is very important."

  "That's interesting", said Ellen.

  Paul and Alec were the next to come through the door. Ellen hugged them both. Paul was in his twenties, probably. He was rather thin, average height. His hair was so blond it was practically white. He wore it long, tied in a pony tail. He had a pleasant face with a warm smile. He and Alec were obviously good friends at the very least. Alec was quit a bit older than the rest of the assembly, perhaps close to fifty. He, too, was around 5'9" but he was built very square. He appeared to be well grounded, as if it would be a real chore to push him over.

  "And here are Paul and Alec" said Ellen. She made the usual introductions. Gret gave Alec a hug.

  "Alec, I haven't seen you in a million years! How are you?"

  "Wonderful, Gret. How have you been?"

  "Oh" she said, "Just great." Ellen noticed that the O sound and the A sound were held just a bit longer than a native speaker of English would do.

  "Where are you working now?" asked Alec.

  "Mostly health clubs", said Gret. "It's the best of both worlds."

  Ellen wondered what Gret meant by that but Alec seemed to know. He grinned.

  "Very nice. It's good to love your work."

  Again, Ellen wondered how that was related to the previous statement. She would have to catch Richie sometime for a debriefing.

  Two women now came through the door at about the same time. They appeared not to know each other.

  Richie put his hand on the shoulder of one of them. "This is Susan."

  Susan shunted his hand aside and gave Richie a hug that was practically a duplicate of the one he had received from Gret.

  "He must train them to do that. Tits in the chest and hand on the ass. What is it, the Phi Beta Kappa handshake?"

  Ellen had a satiric turn of mind. But she didn't always speak her mind.

  "And this is my good friend Emmy."

  Ellen and Emmy hugged.

  "Well" said Richie "we're all here. Great. We don't have to go down to Mine St. to find another therapist."

  "What?" said Emmy.

  "Richie and I were joking about what we would do if everyone didn't show up." said Ellen.

  "Now" said Richie "who will be the first victim? If there are no objections, I would like to be last. That way I can collapse on the table and sleep here after everyone leaves."

  "I've actually never done this before" said Emmy "I would be willing to be first. That way I will have a better idea what to do when I am working on someone else."

  "Good idea" said Richie. "You can go into the room and disrobe. Lie on the table nude without a top sheet, right."

  "Yes", said Emmy, "I know. See you all soon."

  She went into Richie's massage room.

  Ellen was surprised to see that Gret, Alec and Paul removed all their clothes and piled them on the desk.

  "Really" she thought. "Am I supposed to do that too?"

  Richie was taking his clothes off, too. As he did he said, "This is optional, of course."

  Perhaps it was the social pressure, but Susan and Ellen disrobed as well.

  Ellen was shocked by her first ever sighting of the battleship Richie. She stared. She couldn't stop herself."

  Richie noticed and smiled sweetly at her.

  Ellen had never actually seen a penis as large as Richie's. It was not erect because it was hanging straight down but it appeared to be engorged anyway. There are men whose penises are never seen in that embarrassing state so many of us must endure. Just when you want to make a good impression, the damn thing decides it is a clitoris. It shrivels until only the head protrudes enough to be seen over the balls. And when the possessor of such a traitorous organ looks down and sees what he is displaying, it retracts even more. Alec and Paul were not quite in that class, but they both averted their eyes from Richie. Richie had a dick that never shrunk. Perhaps he had a higher testosterone level than the average guy. Perhaps it had nothing to do with that. No matter what the cause, Ellen thought that it made an impressive presentation, kind of like a hanging pork loin roast. She briefly visualized it on a platter surrounded by savory roasted vegetables. Then she saw it surrounded by an assortment of exotic fruits. Then smothered in warm chocolate.

  She shook herself and the dick, still hanging, appeared to wink at her.

  Now, sometimes a dick can be jocularly referred to as old one-eye, but even then it doesn't wink. Ellen had not been drinking. She had taken no drugs. The only two remaining possibilities were that Richie was possessed of an unusual talent similar to wiggling one's ears or Ellen had lost some degree of touch with reality. The reader gets to choose.

  Richie picked up a hat that was lying on the desk.

  "Pick your body part. And no peeking."

  Everyone reached in and got, say, left arm, left leg, head, and so forth.

  "Ok now" said Richie, head means head and neck. Arm means upper arm, lower arm and the pectorals. The way you cut up a chicken, so the wing has some meat with it. Leg means up to the ASIS, abdomen means abdomen and chest except for the pects."

  "ASIS?" someone asked. We won't say who. These are all licensed therapists and not knowing ASIS is grounds for revocation if reported.

  "Anterior Superior Iliac Spine" said Alec, who talked about the ASIS all the time in class.

  "And no sexual stuff. That includes nipples. If breasts are requested it's breast yes, nipples no. For those doing arms and legs, watch each other and try to keep in sync. After the subject turns over butts will be done with the leg unless explicitly told "no butt". Any questions?"

  He waited a minute.

  "Ok then, there are pump bottles of cream in holsters on the table to the left as you go into the room. The massage should take ten to 15 minutes on a side. Ten for rare, fifteen for well done."

  The team filed into the room.

  Richie said, "Emmy, we forgot to tell you. You need to choose whether or not you want your breasts massaged. Nipples are not massaged. Do you want breast massage?"

  "Absolutely", said Emmy.

  "Ok, everyone, all hands about eight inches over your body part. Come down slowly, slowing even more as you feel yourself enter her aura. Go."

  Once they had all contacted Emmy's body, Emmy said "Oh, my god!"

  "Are you all right?" said Richie.

  "Oh yes. Oh yes."

  Richie had drawn "right arm." He looked across at Alec, who had left arm. Richie deferred to Alec and followed him as he began to stroke the entire arm up to the shoulder cap. Meanwhile, Gret had the right leg and Paul had the left. Paul started a long stroke up the leg, flaring out at the ASIS and then coming back down to the ankle. Gret mirrored his movement. Soon everyone was rubbing Emmy's grateful body in sync. Richie was watching for any problems. It seemed to him that Gret was getting pubic hair as she came down the inner side of the left leg.

  "Gret", he whispered, "No pubes."

  "It's ok" murmured Emmy. "It's ok."

  Richie let it pass, but he became even more watchful.

  Alec had moved to the breast area, so Richie did too. But Alec was getting nipple because of the stroke he was using. Reluctant to break the rhythm, Richie followed Alec's hand motion over Emmy's nipple.

  "Oh yes" said Emmy.

  Richie could see that Paul and Gret were wringing the muscles of the upper thigh. Paul was playing it straight, but Gret was getting a good bit of the lip on her side.

  "Paul" Emmy said, "Follow Gret."

  "Uh-oh" thought Richie "It's getting out of hand."

  It continued to get more and more out of hand. Alec and Richie were working mostly on the nipple now and Paul's and Gret's hands were meeting at Emmy's slit.

  "Oh yes" said Emmy.

  "Time to turn over" said Richie.

  "Oh no" said Emmy.

  "Oh yes" said Richie.

  Everyone stood back and she turned face down. The back prone massage went pretty much like the supine, where they had started. When Gret got to the butt her hand went deep into the crease and Emmy said "Oh yes."

  Richie couldn't see clearly, but he was pretty sure that Gret was massaging Emmy's asshole. The problem was, Emmy kept saying "Oh, yes. Oh. Oh. Oh yes." That seemed to encourage Gret. Then Gret pushed Paul's hand out of the way and slid her whole hand under Emmy's pussy and Emmy just outright fucked her hand. She was grinding into Gret's hand while Ellen and Richie looked on in amazement. Everybody else seemed down with it. After a while, Emmy started moaning, and Gret used the thumb of her right hand to massage Emmy's asshole. What with one thing and another, Emmy had a pretty impressive orgasm and Gret's hand emerged from under her pussy covered in white cum. Gret matter-of-factly wiped her hand on a towel after surreptitiously sniffing her hand.

  Just as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, Emmy rolled over onto her back again and they all put their hands, palms up, under her body nearest them. She couldn't have weighed 120 pounds, so each therapist had only 20 pounds to lift. Up went Emmy's body, up to eye level.

  "Oh my god, I'm flying!" exclaimed Emmy. After a bit they lowered her to the table and filed out of the room.

  "Guys," said Richie, "That was not the plan."

  "Of course it was", said Alec. "We've always done six on one that way."

  "We?" asked Richie.

  "Yeah, we." said Alec. "Gret and Paul and Susan and I. Emmy was new, but she understood. Don't you guys do completes in your practices?"

  "Well, yeah" said Richie, "Ellen and I both do. But I thought this was going to be straight."

  "Shit", said Alec "What's straighter than this?"

  2.

  "Ok" said Richie. "If it's good with everybody else, it's good with me. Ellen, this isn't as advertised. I'm sorry. Do you still want to stay?"

  "If it's good with everybody else, it's good with me." said Ellen.

  "Ok then, who's next?"

  Nobody spoke for a moment, so Susan said "I could go now."

  Just in time, Emmy came staggering out of the massage room.

  "All right, now, did anybody get the license plate of that truck?"

  "Are you ok to work?"

  "You bet."

  "Ok, Susan, your turn in the barrel."

  Susan said, "You've got that wrong. The guy in the barrel is the one who gives the blow job."

  With those words of wisdom, she went into the massage room.

  Body parts were drawn again. Gret drew the abdomen, which did not bode well. If she could whack someone off who was lying face down, imagine if she had total access to the abdomen. Richie had the head, Ellen and Alec had the arms and Emmy and Paul had the legs.

  "Ready or not, here we come."

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