A couples massage with a twist

When you open the door you see a room with blue walls, some plants and a single massage table. Next to the table stands a Mediterranean looking man in his late twenties. He's wearing a tight, burgundy t-shirt that clings to his body and shows off his muscular arms, pecs and six pack. Underneath he's wearing some loose fitting, grey sweat pants and a belt with a holster for a hand pump, presumably full of massage oil. He's wearing the hand pump on his hip, so it's resting against the outline of a very sizable cock. The outline is so defined, as only happens with really well endowed men who decide to forgo underwear. After the serious case of blue ovaries you just received, you find yourself lustfully and unashamedly checking him out. You snap out of it when he starts to speak, and luckily you don't think he or Veronica have noticed.

"Hello," he greets you with a thick Italian accent, "my name is Mauro. You must be my next clients. What are your names?"

"Hi, I'm Veronica and this is Jennifer. Are we in the right place? We're looking for the couples massage, but there is only one of you, and one table." You hadn't thought of this yourself.

"Ah, yes," Mauro replied, "you misunderstood the couples massage. Here we teach the couple how to massage. Teach a man to fish, that kind of thing. Now then, which one of you beautiful women will be getting the massage? I'll go next door and prepare the oils. In the meantime you can undress and lie down on the table. There are towels over there, and you can lay one on your bottom if that makes you feel more comfortable."

With that he goes into what looks like a supply closet and leaves the two of you to figure out who will be giving and who will be receiving the massage. You would be happy either way. You wouldn't mind a relaxing massage, but you also see no problems in getting your hands on Veronica's incredible body again. She says she also doesn't mind either way, so it's up to you to decide.