“No, please, don’t do that” I say with unintended urgency.
You turn your head and look at me oddly, as if gauging my intentions. Recovering my poise I hold your shoulders and steer you to face forward.
“I do need you to take off your robe, however.”
Your neck stiffens slightly but with a movement the robe falls to the floor, leaving your sleek back facing me. I take a deep breath as you slide down from your kneeling position.
I had first seen you at the petrol station while seated in my car earlier in the day. I had noticed your breasts first, your deep cleavage pulling my eyes towards you. In the hot summer sun you wore a blue v-neck T that somehow left me unsure whether you dressed to captivate or for comfort. Your soft, intelligent face and easy movement captured me as you walked past my car. How old were you? Hard to say...you had the bearing of experience but the looks of a young woman. Your heavy breasts and slight frame confused me further but I somehow knew you were older than your clear skin and eyes hinted.
All this ran through my mind in the few seconds I sat quietly drinking you in. You entered your car just as I pulled away, my imagination captivated, but with my rational self focusing on my afternoon appointment.
Two o’clock found me idly filling a crossword while sipping my black coffee. I knew very little about my next client aside from the fact she was a solicitor, successful, I believe, and had been referred by a friend. My policy was to take only referrals into my home. This meant everybody felt comfortable with the potentially compromising circumstances. I mean, massage is a loaded word, ripe for misunderstanding isn’t it?
That’s not to say I had ever been averse to little ‘extras’ that came my way but much of that was in the first couple of years when I confused the control my hands gave me with a license to go further and explore the risen nipples and open legs so readily offered to me.
Now in my late 30s I had conquered these temptations, wishing only to give women the release of unknotted shoulders and the sense of being cared for.
The doorbell rang and putting down my coffee I went to meet my new client.
And there you are, with that same plunging neckline and confident smile on your beautiful face. Introducing yourself you stretch out a hand and my heart skips a beat in time with an instinctive cock twitch as my skin touches yours. My mind is spinning as I usher you in.
I ask if you would like a drink. “I suggest herbal, it’ll help relax you, get you in the mood,” I say lightly, half aware of the double meaning, unexpected even by me.
“Peppermint?” you say, your voice cultured and husky.
While I make your tea we chat idly, myself intent on making you feel comfortable. After a few minutes we go upstairs to my place of work, your heels skittering on the wooden stairs. When we get to the first floor I beckon you to go ahead up the next flight, ever the gentleman but keen to see your hips swaying in front of me.
We sit up there awhile, drinking tea as I admire your natural beauty and struggle to conceal my hard cock while you tell me about the stresses of your work and how your tight back needs loosening up. All the while I hope I’m outwardly the concerned professional nodding coolly while struggling to avoid staring into the deep valley of your cleavage.
I don’t intend a seduction, I really don’t, you must believe me. But why am I dripping a few extra drops of white musk into the oil burner? Why do I close the window so that the heat in the room builds up further? Why am I visualising your body spread out before me like a feast for a king?
I crave your whimpers, to take your professional exterior and shape it to my needs but I know that will not do, not now, So while the scent of the oil snakes around the room I ask you to undress, show you your robe and explain that I’ll be downstairs awaiting your call to say you’re ready.
My stomach doing somersaults I skip downstairs and shut the door to my room. As I lay back on my bed one thought is playing through my mind – I can’t kneel over you with my hard cock sliding between your oiled buttocks. I just can’t.
I pull my hot smooth cock out of my trousers and stroke myself in time with the image of it sliding up and down, up and down across your slick skin. Desperate to cum quickly I imagine slipping the head of my cock into your cultured arsehole at just the second you call down to say you’re ready. My hips lunge upwards, out of control and spasming as I explode, cum spattering my face as a deep animal groan escapes my lips. Breathing heavily I call back, tucking my slick, still hard cock back into my trousers . I smile with relief and slide of the bed to rejoin you. At least I won’t embarrass myself now.
More fool me, because when I see you in the robe my breath still catches in my throat. You look so knowing yet innocent as you sit there, your legs crossed and poised. The room is swirling with the scent of oil and an excited sweat prickles my neck. Still wearing earrings you turn your back, letting your robe drop to the floor, and lay on your front. I try and ignore your blue panties stretched across your hips and straddling your body start by running my fingers firmly down your spine.
“Relax, let yourself go” I say softly.
You move your head to the side, settling into a comfortable position and closing your eyes.
Moving my soft hands up to your shoulders I admire your profile, your eyes closed and face relaxed. My fingers roil and push your shoulder blades seeking out any tightness and pushing it to the side. I follow the tightness, pushing it until it dissipates in the flesh at the side of your breasts.
---- Must be professional. Must be detached ----
My fingers now alternately softly stroke and press your body firmly. Following your hollows and contours they move back down to the base of your spine and touch the top of your panties.
---- Must be professional. Must be professional ----
My fingertips gently move up and down, tracing from your neck down, down, down before sweeping around to stroke the hollow of your between your hips and stomach again and again.
---- Must be... ----
You murmur appreciatively, your eyes closed, lips slightly open. There is a thickness in the air. You move your hips slightly beneath me and I’m surprised by the quiet sticky sound of your wetness. More assertive now, I move my fingertips down inside your panties, massaging your buttocks. Your hands slide down and you start stroking the tops of my hard thighs as I sit astride you.
Rolling down your panties, I reveal the top of your soft buttocks and knead you, relishing the sticky parting of your pussy lips with each movement. I relish also sitting on top of you, my weight holding your legs in place while your thighs twitch against me. Your eyes are still closed. Is it to heighten your pleasure? Is it to separate your body and mind? I have no idea as I roll down you wet panties but I know I know you are mine.
Still fully clothed I trace the crease between your buttocks, lingering over your arsehole. I trace a circle, making you squirm before resuming the journey down to your wet slit. As I begin to explore your hidden creases my other hand moves up to hold your neck firmly to keep you in place. I want you. I want you so much. My stiff finger slides up and down your pussy, penetrating slightly and stroking the inside of your lips. Your breathing is ragged now, your head turning from side to side, your hips pushing up against me.
My fingers move down, easily finding your clit hard and slippery. I flick you a few times and then pull away, leaving you twisting and bucking your hips with surprising strength.
I sit up and place my hands on either side of your hips, pulling you into a kneeling position. I can see your breasts now. They hang down, a sheen of sweat glistening from being pressed down for so long, your hard nipples dark against your pale skin.
The time for gentleness is gone. I reach around and pinch your nipples hard before pulling my fingers away. You cry out and your jerking movement causes your breasts to sway from side to side. Looking down I push your thighs open so that I can see your beautiful pussy shiny and wet. I slide down and my tongue curls and laps the length of your pussy lips, ensuring my saliva coats you. I want you as wet and open as can be.
My tongue probes within and strokes your clit, back and forth, nudging and swirling it around in my mouth. I suckle it a little while sliding two stiff fingers into you, thrusting as deep as they will go. You’re desperate to cum now, crying out mashing yourself hard against my lips and teeth.
While you kneel, your body shuddering and swaying, I quickly undress and climb back over you, mounting your coiled body, my cock sliding easily inside you. My head falls back and I cry out to feel your pussy so wet and open for me.
I push myself as deep as I can and swivel my hips, feeling your pussy twitch hungrily. I withdraw slowly, rubbing my cock past your stretched walls as it retreats until with just my tip inside you I reach around and tightly cup your breasts. Pinching your nipples in time with each thrust I fuck you, my cock thick and the hardness of my stomach hitting your soft buttocks. You are almost insensible, pleading and whimpering with your head on the table and ass in the air.
With a particularly deep thrust the tip of my cock touches your womb and I release all control. With primitive groans I start slamming into you, clawing at your nipples harder and harder until with a cry I cum into you, pushing deep again and again, feeling your pussy clutching me hungrily. My hot cum triggers your own climax as if you suddenly have permission. Your pussy clenches and milks my cock as my spasms slowly subside. I hold your body to mine as we rock gently, gasping and treasuring the unexpected intimacy.
After a few moments, needing the feelings to last I slide down beside you and gather your body spooning and hold you tight, not saying a word. I know you still don’t need to open your eyes – let’s just pretend this was simply a wonderful massage...