Magic Fingers: Sensual Massage to Wild Fuck With 39yo Milf

Hello all,

This is my first story on ISS. It’s been more than five years since I became a continuous visitor here, and I’ve always loved the content.

Without wasting more time, let me introduce myself—Vicky (name changed, obviously). I’m a 25-year-old male, 6 feet tall, neither fit nor fat, with an average body and a decent enough dick to make women go crazy.

Born and brought up in South India, I stayed in Gurgaon for two years before recently moving to Mumbai for work. It was December 2024, and winter was hitting Delhi-NCR hard. Back then, my Instagram profile was public. I posted a story of me giving a back massage to a female friend of mine.

Nothing nude—she was fully clothed. I’m a master at massages. As expected, my friend started moaning. Just 15 seconds in, she said, “Vicky, I already neared orgasm in 15 seconds. Your hands have magic.” I posted it just for fun.

Twelve hours later, I got a message request from an account named Gitika Verma (name changed). Just a simple “Hi” and a follow. I ignored it at first, thinking it was a fake account. But then, she started liking my photos, so I checked her profile.

Goddamn. A fucking beauty. The heroine of this story—a 39-year-old proper MILF, with a killer structure: 36C-34-38. Seeing her, any dick would salute. I thought about messaging her to check if her profile was genuine, but then I saw her message request again. I replied with “Hello.”

She responded immediately: “Waiting for your text, hero.”

Me: “Lol, tell me?”

Gitika: “I saw your profile and your story. Is that real or fake?”

Me: “Hey, I posted it for fun.”

Gitika: “So it’s fake?”

Me: “No, the girl’s reaction was genuine. I just posted it for fun.”

Gitika: “She really had an orgasm in that little time?”

Without hesitation, I sent her a photo of my fingers and said, “A back and shoulder massage with these fingers will definitely make anyone feel the same.”

Gitika (after 2 mins): “What kind of fingers are those?”

Me: “Haha, every girl says the same.”

Gitika: “What do you do?”

Me: “I head marketing at a startup. I’m also into massages—learned it myself. I give massages to girls I date.”

I could tell she was excited by my fingers, so I dropped hints.

Me: “What about you?”

Gitika: “From Jalandhar, settled in Gurgaon. My husband owns a health tech company, and I take care of the home.”

Me: “Great. So, does your husband give you massages often?”

Gitika: “It’s been 12 years of marriage. He’s never even massaged my shoulders.”

Me: “What a fool. If I had a wife like you, I’d relax her body every weekend, no matter how busy I was.”

Gitika: [Sobbing emojis]

Me: “Don’t worry. Ask your husband for one—maybe he’ll finally do it.”

Then came the bombshell.

Gitika: “By any chance… do you give paid massages? I can pay any amount you want. My kids are at my in-laws’, and my husband is on a US trip for the next 45 days.”

Me: “I’ve never given paid massages before, but I’ll try. How much are you offering?”

Gitika: “1 lakh per session.”

I was shocked. 1 lakh for one session? I accepted instantly.

Gitika: “Awesome. Can we do it today?”

Me: “First, let’s confirm your identity.”

She video-called me from her balcony, wearing a maxi dress. A high-class beauty—pure white, like Tamannaah, with assets that drove me wild. I asked her to show her body, and she turned to the mirror. Her boobs were the craziest part of her, and her ass was a standout.

I deliberately made her wait. “I’m not available for the next seven days,” I said.

She went mad. “Please, can we do it today or tomorrow?”

I stuck to my plan. “Let’s fix it for next Friday evening.”

She agreed.

In the meantime, I told her to get jasmine oil and candles for the session. I also said, “Don’t masturbate—you’ll lose interest in the massage.” (Total lie—I just wanted her to crave it even more.)

The Day Arrives

She sent me her location beforehand—a posh Gurgaon society, just 10 minutes from my place. I arrived at 4 PM. She opened the door in a white T-shirt and tight jeans, her thighs practically inviting me to devour them.

“Hi,” I said. She hugged me, thanking me for coming, and led me inside. A lavish 5 BHK duplex—she’d even given the servants a holiday. We sipped coffee and talked about life.

“You told me you’re 25?” she asked.

“Post-COVID, I put on some weight. Had it twice, so I’m cutting down now,” I replied.

“But you’re hot. I like you,” she said.

Then I asked, “Can I tell you something?”

“What?”

“Your husband is an idiot. I’d never leave a wife like you unsatisfied.”

She cried again. I consoled her. “Don’t worry, I’m here.”

We moved to the bedroom, where she’d set up a yoga mat and two white blankets. I dimmed the lights, lit candles, and created a setup to die for.

“Remove your clothes,” I said.

She took off her tight T-shirt—her boobs were begging to pop out of that bra. A Victoria’s Secret grey bra, hugging her curves perfectly. Then came the jeans—that ass was something else. I wanted to eat it right then.

When she went to remove her bra, I stopped her. “Keep it on for now. Remove it once you’re comfortable.” (Later, she admitted she wanted sex in the name of a massage.)

I told her to lie on her belly and started the massage—the exact thumb-and-index technique from my story.

“Vicky, your fingers are magic,” she moaned. “Please start the oil massage.”

I worked on her lower back, and she whispered, “Remove my bra. Do it freely—I trust you.”

I unhooked it in one swift move.

“Wow, experienced guy!” she teased.

I massaged her entire back, then removed her panties. The scent of her wet pussy hit me—a musky, intoxicating aroma. I sniffed her panties before setting them aside.

I worked on her feet, calves, and thighs for 6-8 minutes, her moans growing louder. My fingers brushed against her pussy occasionally—just teasing. I know she is getting mad.

Then I told her to turn over. Her face was flushed red.

“What happened?” I asked.

“Nothing… It’s a heavenly feeling,” she gasped.

I massaged her neck (my favourite part), shoulders, and then her boobs—clockwise, then anticlockwise. Her nipples hardened instantly. I pulled and twisted them, her moans turning into shouts of pleasure.

I moved to her belly, then her feet—she looked disappointed because I didn’t go to her pussy.

“Close your eyes. Just enjoy,” I said.

After five more minutes, I reached her lower abdomen. She was screaming now, not just moaning. My fingers grazed her pussy lips—soaking wet. I slid one finger inside, then two. She loved it. Then I massaged her clitoris as she arched her back, begging for more.

After five minutes of this, she pulled me close, lowered my shorts, and took my 6-inch dick out and hard massaged it for 2 minutes.

“I want to blow you,” she said.

“Let’s do 69 position,” I suggested.

We switched positions—I ate her pussy while she deep-throated me. After 10 minutes, I flipped her into missionary, and I started teasing my dick around her pussy.

Gitika: “Please fuck me, I beg you.”

Me: “No.”

Gitika: “Please, I can’t control anymore. Completing this line, she took my dick inside her wet pussy.”

It’s tight; it’s been more than 8 months since she had sex. She is enjoying every moment. She is scratching my back and shouting, and it’s becoming too wild.

She cum three times in an hour. We collapsed, sweaty and spent. She wiped my forehead like a baby, and we rested for 15 minutes.

Then came the shower sex—standing, against the wall. I inserted from the back. She blew me again in the shower, and I ate her pussy and ass in the shower.

Gitika begged me to stay for 15 days. I stayed for a week, and she enjoyed every second of it. She paid me a hefty amount in black cash (I won’t disclose the figure, but money wasn’t the main thing).

She introduced me to a few of her friends for a massage, which also took a different turn. In the next stories

Gitika deserved this. Her husband earns money but doesn’t satisfy her—that’s not her fault. Life’s short—you can’t enjoy sex after 40-45, so why deny herself? I don’t think she cheated—her husband failed her. I felt that I supported her. What do you guys feel

Reachable at [email protected] for comments/thoughts. No time-wasters, please. Any woman from Mumbai who wants to spend some quality time with me, drop me an email. We will fix a catch-up.