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A man in a beret waved at me through a shop window and smiled. I waved and shrugged my shoulders as if to say, “And who the hell are you?”, but I couldn’t help but smile back. With his round face, dark ringlets, and little pink mouth, the man looked like a slightly-perverted cherub. He wasn’t beatiful, but he exuded sensuality.
I was about to go, when the man gestured for me to come inside I looked inside, and saw a massage chair.
The thought of a massage freeby sounded pretty tempting, so I went in.
The interior was plain, more like a doctor’s office than a spa. A receptionist — a brunette in her early twenties — sat behind the front desk. The man who’d waved at me got up from the window-seat, and while grinning extended his hand. Soft skin, firm grip.
“I’m Jay. I do massage and acupuncture. This is my studio.”
So he wasn’t just a client trying to pick me up.
“What are you doing in this area?”
“I was just looking for a place to eat. The tea shop next door looks good but it’s closed.”
“Oh they make the best cookies.”
The receptionist nodded emphatically.
“They’re closed now,” he added. “But the Chinese place should still be open and it’s good.”
“I just wanted something to munch on. Not a dinner.”
He nodded sympathetically.
To fill the silence, I picked up the brochure. The prices were unusually high.
“Want to try a free 15 minute massage?”
I nodded and sat down on the massage chair. He placed his hands on my shoulders and rested them there for a second. His hands felt warm. As he slid his palms down my spine, sadness filled me. It had been so long since I’d been touched. I closed my eyes and focused on the sensations: his thumbs brushing over knots, his digits tapping at the tension in my mid back; his hands swirling around my hips. I felt a warmth rise up my body. Turn-on. When he massaged my arms and shoulders, the pain dissipated. His hands slowed, and then rested on back. Heat seeped into my body through his hands.
Quietly, he said,”That’s it.”
I got up, feeling touched in more ways than one. His face looked soft and gentle. If I was a cat, I’d curl up next to him.
“Thank you,” I said and meant it.
“Would you like to set up an appointment?”
“Yeah,” I nodded, and set up a massage. (Freebies have a way of costing ya.)
Two days before our scheduled appointment, Jay called me to cancel.
“I have a family emergency, I’m so sorry,”
In the background, I heard a baby crying.
“Don’t worry,” I told him. “Family first. I totally get it.”
I did get it. My parents had been sick with one thing or another for a long time, and I knew that family came first.
“Can we meet on Sunday at two? I’ll give you an even bigger discount.”
Saturday night, I found his brochure stashed in my glove compartment. It had his photo. I showed it to my mom and she giggled. I don’t know if it was the beret, the hint of a smile or his long lashes, but the man exuded sex. I wondered if I should cancel the appointment and simply ask him out, but I didn’t.
On Sunday, when I walked into his spa, it was empty. Just as I was about to look at the knick-knacks on the shelves, he stepped into the foyer.
He looked warm and sweet.
I felt pleased that he remembered my name.
“You can come this way,” he said, touching my hand. The touch felt unnecessary, uncalled for. Was he flirting or was he a touchy-feely sort of person?
He led me to a small rectangular room painted pale yellow. A massage table stood in the middle of the room, and two small chairs stood by the wall. He took one chair, and I the other.
What kind of massage would you like?
“Relaxation, so light-to-medium pressure.”
“Usually I can take it pretty casino oyna hard, but I just was to relax now.”
He cocked his eyebrows.
“I can give a lot of pressure.” He lifted his hands — his hands were meaty. “I’ve got big hands,” he said, grinning.
“Okay light pressure.” My eyes must have twinkled at the double entendre.
“First, I’d like to do some physical alignment, so you can just lie down. You don’t have to take off your clothes for this part.”
I got on top of the massage table and put my face into the headrest. He picked up my arm, and jerked it a few times.
I noticed that my shoulder muscles were contracted, so I exhaled and tried to relax them.
“I’ll leave now, and you can disrobe and lie down under the covers.”
He left and I took off my clothes, and as I did, it occurred to me that he would have enjoyed the sight of me undressing. I’d been working out almost every day for the last couple of weeks. My tummy looked flat, which made my melon-sized breasts look even bigger.
He returned and put on some new-agey music.
Like the first time on the massage chair, he rested his hands on the center of my back, heating my muscles and preparing me for a massage. Then I felt a very unusual sensation on my back, like he was rolling a wooden acupressure roller over my back. Then I realized that he was rolling his knuckles over my back. I’ve had many massages, but his technique was unusual. I figured it must have come from practicing Chinese medicine.
I wanted to ask him about it, but decided not to badger him.
He ran his hands down my back, around my hips and up my sides. As he stroked up, his fingers brushed the sides of my breasts. I wondered if Jay was breaking any rules by doing this, but I said nothing. It felt too good. It had always seemed a pity to me that masseurs didn’t do breasts. It felt so fucking good.
After Jay finished my back, he started massaging my arms. He took my forearm into his hand and stroked down, so that his hand ended up in mine. I squeezed my fingers around his. The gesture was spontaneous, but it made heat rise to my cheeks.
After he massaged my arms, I asked him to massage my hip joints. I had some pain in my low back, and thought it might be due to tight hips.
JAY wrapped his fingers around my hip-bones, dug in, and stroked up, but my body didn’t sigh as I’d expected it to. The problem was somewhere else.
JAY ran his hand from my shoulders down to my butt, and then he started kneading my butt cheek. He pushed his knuckle in a bit, and I yelped.
“Yeah, but it’s probably good for me,” I replied, figuring that the tension in my back was due to my tight ass.
He ignored my masochistic request and lightened his touch.
He skirted [T J1]his fingertips lightly over my thighs as if flirting, as if teasing.
Artist, I thought. This man is a touch artist.
“That feels really good,”
“As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”
I blushed into my head rest. If that didn’t sound like pillow talk, I didn’t know what did.
“How’s the pressure?”
“Perfect.” I purred.
His fingers crept closer and closer to my pussy, and I wondered if he’d touch me.
He didn’t. Instead he pulled down on the skin of my inner thighs, sending tingles to my pussy.
A whimper, barely audible, escaped my mouth.
Maybe, I should ask him out after the massage I thought, though it felt slightly inappropriate. I wondered if the attraction was mutual. If it was, surely, I’d feel it in his touch.
I closed my eyes and focused in on his touch. He dragged his pinky down my leg, as if caressing me. Flirty mister.
He shifted to my other leg.
“Silly question. The whole thing feels amazing,” I teased.
“Let canlı casino me know if I’m talking too much,”
“You’re not talking at all.”
“Well I wasn’t talking to give you a relaxing experience.”
“Well I wasn’t talking because you weren’t talking.”
“So what do you want to talk about?” he asked, as he dragged the pads of his fingers down my leg.
“You have a kid?”
“Yeah, four years old, but I’m not married.”
I smiled at the unasked-for admission.
“I have a cat,”
“What’s he like?”
He was making light circles around my calves, which felt so good that I had to pause.
“Black like a proper witch’s cat with a little white neck.”
He ran his hands down my thigh and then back up. His fingers brushed against my pussy.
My back jolted, lifted, and I trembled. My breath shook. He must have noticed.
He stroked down. It couldn’t have been a mistake. Could it?
On the way up, his finger brushed against my pussy again. This time, he touched twice. It was intentional.
My body shook. I wanted to tell him that if he was going to do that, he’d better fuck me, but I remained silent, curious about what else he would do.
“You can turn over now,” he said, and his voice sounded a little hoarse.
He lifted the sheet, and I turned over onto my back. He covered my breasts with the sheet and tucked it under.
He walked behind me and started massaging my neck.
I wondered if he noticed how quickly my chest was rising and falling.
“So tell me more about your cat.”
Surely, he was teasing me. For once, I had nothing to say about my cat.
“What did you do before massage?”
“Acupressure, which is sort of the same thing,” he said as he massaged my collarbones.
I nodded. It was what I expected. He had found his calling early on.
Through the sheet, he ran his fingers down my scapula, over the ribs and around my breasts. I felt my nipples harden. He ignored them. Frustrated, I wondered if he limited his groping to touches that could be dismissed as accidental.
He walked over to my side, lifted the sheet and tucked it under my other thigh. He ran his middle fingers down along my pelvic bones, digging in.
He moved his hand to the other hip.
I wondered if he’d touch me again.
I looked at him. He looked at me. His big brown eyes seemed calm.
My heart was beating in my throat.
On the way to my left hip, he ran his fingers over my pubic mound.
I shivered. He did it again, this time he touched my clit.
My back jerked up. I trembled. He put his hand underneath my back and kissed my mouth. I nibbled on his lips.
As my back fell flat, he lifted the sheet off my breasts, and took a nipple into his mouth.
I wondered if he’d done this before. If he did it with all of his clients. If that’s why he charged so much. Then I chided myself. It didn’t matter. His sex-life was his business.
I wrapped my fingers in his black curly hair.
He increased the pressure on my clit, as if pushing me to cum.
“Good,” he said and smiled at my acquiescence. By making a request, I gave him permission.
He lightened his touch and licked a finger, and started running it over the hood of my clit. My body shook and shook.
“Put your finger inside,”
He slid his digit between my pussy lips, and I could feel how wet and slick I was. My stomach trembled. I wanted him inside. I was so hungry for him. He bent over and started licking my clit as he finger-fucked me. Then he kissed me, and I tasted my pussy on his lips.
“Let’s get off this thing off.”
A tad stupified, I got up, naked in front of him.
I wrapped my hands around his waist. His belly was round. His shirt was soaked kaçak casino through. Not the image of sexy, but his hands felt yum around my waist. And I liked how he gazed at me through those long dark eyelashes.
He pushed me against the table and kissed my shoulder.
He scraped his barely-there nails over my breasts, causing me to shiver. I threw my neck back and I felt his lips on my neck.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” he said, as he cupped my breasts. He rubbed my nipples between his fingers, and from the glint in his eye, I could see that he liked teasing me. I sat up on the table and wrapped my legs around him. I grabbed his neck and pulled him close, and I ran my tongue over his lips. He groaned. Success.
“I’ve never done anything like this before,” he asked. “Have you?”
“Seduced a massage therapist?” I gazed up as if trying to remember, “Let’s see… I think not.”
He chuckled. So maybe he wasn’t a gigalo. Phew.
“Let’s get this off,” I said while tugging on his shirt.
He pulled it off, and I ran my hands down his chest and I squeezed his cute little love-handle.
“Poking fun of my fat?”
“It’s sexy,” I said, nibbling on the side of his jaw.
He growled and pinched my nipple. I grabbed him by the hair, pulled his mouth to mine, and ground my hips against his. Even though he was wearing pants, I felt how hard he was. I put my hand on cock. It twitched. (Yey!)
I pulled down his zipper and unbuttoned his pants. His cock jumped up at me. Little beads of pre-cum crowned the head. Yummy. Yummy. I took it in hand, and a shiver went through Jay’s entire body. It was so sexy.
I got on my knees and brushed my cheek over his cock. It felt so soft. I could smell his pre-cum. I brushed my lips over his head and a bead of precum fell into my mouth. The taste was bitter, musky, and yummy. It made me wet.
I flicked my tongue over the tip. I licked around the head, wrapped my right hand around his shaft, and slid my mouth down his cock. I bobbed my head on his cock until his legs started shaking. To keep him from cumming, I took my mouth off his cock and pulled his balls away from his body.
He exhaled. Shaking trembling.
“Do you have a condom?” I asked him.
For a moment, he looked a little stupid. Then he nodded, left the room, and soon re-appeared with a condom in hand.
Standing next to me, he spread my pussy lips with his fingers.
“You’re so wet,” he purred, took his finger out, and brought it to my lips.
I licked. I tasted bittersweet.
He pushed me onto the table, so I was sitting.
“So bossy,” I complained, smiling. I love domineering man.
I sat down on the massage table. He kneeled and sat between my legs. While holding down my thighs, he bit my thighs and suckled on my pussy lips. I dug my nails into his shoulders and groaned. He pushed his fingers inside my pussy. My pussy shook.
He started flicking his tongue over my clit while pushing his fingers in and out of my pussy. I felt my pussy juice drip down my ass.
I pushed his head away, and said, “Get in here now.”
He rolled the condom down his cock, wrapped his arm around me, and pushed his cock inside of me. It felt filling.
I nodded and smiled. He was gentle and his cock felt big. And he had gold specks in his brown eyes.
He kissed my neck and stroked my cheek with his hand.
I lifted my hips up and he started fucking me. I met him thrust for thrust. A tingling sensation rose up, out of my low-belly and into my arms, back, chest, and legs.
We started tongue-sucking and fucking hard. My tits shook.
I stated rubbing my clit. My pussy started to pulse. I tried to tell him I was cumming, but I couldn’t talk.
I felt our bodies vibrate together.
He pushed hard into me and screamed, and then became still.
He wrapped his arms around me and kissed me gently.
[T J1]Would ‘stroked’ work better?
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