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muscles wherever he touched. His fingers lingered in the creases where thigh met hip, rubbing slowly, sliding downward to meet beneath Allan’s bulging sac. His testicles jumped at the touch.
    “Jesus, you have good hands.”
    Erik pressed a kiss to the side of Allan’s neck. The man smelled good—clean and spicy, with a hint of sandalwood. The scent was so familiar it brought an immediate warmth to his groin. Not an instant flash of heat like with Jeremy but a slow and steady simmer. He closed his eyes, let his hands guide him, and it could have been George he was holding.
    He reached for the lube, squirted a dollop into his palm and then took Allan’s soft penis in his hand. He gave it a gentle squeeze and then began massaging the shaft with both hands. Allan’s sigh was filled with surprise.
    “Still feels good, doesn’t it?” Erik whispered.
    “Yeah.”
    “Just in a different way.”
    Erik ran two slippery fingers over the head of Allan’s penis, firing up the nerve endings. Allan didn’t get hard, but he sucked in a breath and let his full weight fall back against Erik’s chest. His legs shifted restlessly under the continued stroking.
    Erik kissed his neck again, licking a path up to Allan’s jaw and then taking his earlobe between his teeth and lightly biting. A tremor ran through his body that time. He arched his neck in invitation, so Erik kept up his teasing while he played with Allan’s cock, refreshing the lube to keep things nice and wet. He milked Allan slowly, eventually moving on to his balls, cupping them in one hand, rolling them in their delicate sac. Allan’s sigh of contentment was unmistakable. His eyes were closed, his head tipped back on Erik’s shoulder.
    He reached further, letting his fingertips drift beyond Allan’s balls and skate over his perineum. When the man didn’t protest, he rubbed little circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves located there. Allan’s lips parted, and he spread his legs a fraction wider on the cotton-covered table.
    Erik heard the soft snick of the latch on the door and glanced up at the clock, surprised to find that so much time had passed. He had told Cindy to give them a good half an hour before joining them so that Allan would be fully relaxed. When Cindy cautiously poked her head in to see if he was ready, he nodded, and she slipped silently into the room. They had discussed all this in advance. What she should do. How they would work together to bring back Allan’s self-confidence. He had warned her not to speak. This was about building a fantasy.
    She stepped out of her skirt and unbuttoned her blouse quickly, revealing an expensive pair of black, lacy panties and matching bra that encased her ample breasts. Cindy was younger than her husband, probably in her early fifties, with a frosted blonde bob that managed to look expensive and not tacky. Her body was curvy, not as toned as it had likely once been, but she was still a beautiful woman in a classic, timeless way.
    With his eyes closed and his body humming with pleasure, Allan didn’t even notice his wife enter the room until she stood directly in front of him. Whether it was her presence that alerted him or her light touch on his thigh, Allan’s eyes flew open. “Cindy!”
    Erik could feel Allan try to tense up, but his body was too relaxed and aroused to comply. This was his fantasy coming to life after all.
    “I thought your wife could help us out,” he murmured, moving his hands back to Allan’s cock to distract him.
    “But—.”
    Erik grasped Allan’s penis by the base, holding it upright while he rubbed the flat of his hand in circles over the head. The muscles in the older man’s thighs twitched. He inhaled sharply. Erik gave Cindy a nod of encouragement and she stepped forward and placed Allan’s hands on her lace-covered breasts. It was all about stimulating Allan’s imagination he’d told her, building visual fantasies, and she appeared to have taken that to