My Lover’s Healing Hands

Lovemaking enhanced by erotic massage has changed my life. Through the warm, healing hands of my lover, I have been able to experience sex to the fullest. It is no longer a moment’s pleasure or a quick, thrilling kick. The adoration of the body through caring caresses of hot, naked flesh has elevated my sexual experiences to pinnacles of blissful release previously unknown to me.

Living and working in the fast lane of high finance is my life, and I love it. The heavy hit action and heady power deals send me flying and have always extended into my personal and sexual life. I always liked my sex like I like my job fast, hard, risky and with a bit of uncertainty. Quick wham bangs in luxury hotels seemed the perfect nightcap after a hard day’s work. But with the unnerving performance of the stock market in recent months, I began to experience extreme burnout. After watching one of the biggest deals I had ever put together nearly go down the tubes, I spent a sleepless week and found myself hanging out at the club bar later and later every evening. My friend Gary suggested I take my frustration out on the racquetball court, and even though I’m not much of a player, I took him up on it the next evening.

At the club there are several racquetball courts, two pools, a weight room, tons of high tech machines, a track, a sauna, massage and tanning booths. Your typical well equipped spa with your typical cross section of bodybuilders, secretaries looking for husbands, middle aged Romeos trying to stay in shape and petite prima donnas shedding that last half ounce of fat. The firm owns part of the club, and all the brokers, lawyers, CPA’s and support staff work out there, because it’s across the street from our offices, the drinks and food at the bar are good and cheap, and it’s comfortable.

During our game, which, in my funk, I played with a foolish intensity, I pulled a hamstring. Gary, ever the health freak, suggested a sauna and a massage. I had never been much for sitting around and sweating, but I thought it might do my aching muscles some good. I went down to the second level with him, put on a white terry robe and edged my way into the steam. The heat helped, and after several minutes, I had worked up quite a sweat and got up to leave. Gary insisted I go for a massage. I wasn’t really into it, but the thought of going home and staring at the ceiling was even less appealing.

I went to the desk, signed up for a massage and waited. A short, bulky guy told me to follow him and he would introduce me to Diana, the new masseuse.

I had visions of a stocky woman who wore comfortable shoes and didn’t fool around and would rip into my muscles until I screamed. Imagine my surprise when into the cubicle walked a redheaded vixen with a trim figure and a million dollar smile. Her green eyes did a quick once over of my nearly naked body as I started to stand up. Her body was tight and firm, but girlish, with pert, round breasts pushing against her clinging button down golf shirt.

“Eric?” she asked. “I’m Diana, the new masseuse. Would you turn over, please?” She was friendly but professional. I turned over on my stomach, sorry that I couldn’t watch her as she began weaving her magic on my sore muscles. Her hands were firm, but the skin was soft. She finessed the tightness out of my calves, working methodically but carefully.

She continued her ministrations, working up my legs to my thighs, until she came upon the knot in my hamstring.

“You have quite a lump here,” she said pleasantly.

I was beginning to have quite a lump elsewhere and was wondering what I was going to do when she asked me to turn over. My erection became stiffer as she coaxed the pain out of my hamstring and then gripped my buttocks. She didn’t linger over my muscular cheeks, but just the thought of her touching me in such a private place pushed my hard on to the limit.

Next she was working my shoulders and back, and I sighed as relaxation came over me like a warm blanket. Before I knew it was time to, she asked me to turn over, reached beneath me, and gave me a slight push. Now I was lying flat on my back with my penis flying high through my tiny gym shorts.

Diana said nothing as she kneaded my tired but now excited body from head to toe. Somewhere between those high and low spots she brushed across my obvious erection. I sighed. She worked closer and closer to my crotch. I drifted happily as she inched slowly toward my cock. She smiled broadly, obviously enjoying her work. She grabbed the upper part of one thigh and her fingers probed between my legs, working the muscles leading to my perineum. The tops of her fingers brushed against my scrotum, and I caught my breath.

A bit of moisture was forming at the tip of my dick, and I didn’t know how much longer I could take this blissful but erotic body massage. Was I overreacting to the gorgeous redhead’s pert body and fabulous hands? Her tits seemed to be pushing harder than ever against the soft fabric of her blouse. As she leaned over me, her body came in contact with mine repeatedly, and although we spoke no words, there could be no mistake as to what was happening.

I wanted to take her right there on the table, but she was in control. It was a heady and exhilarating experience, having my body worked over and controlled by this beauty. Her tan body was a perfect marriage of female softness and muscle, and it was touching every bit of me except the part that now needed the most attention.

I was so into this unexpected pleasure that I barely realized this athletic little nymph had grabbed a towel and covered my crotch. She poked more seriously between my legs now, not shying away from my balls, as her kneading became gentler and slower. I felt her fingertips run lightly across my tingling sac, and my dick jumped up. She tickled and toyed with my balls for several minutes before reaching under the waistband of my gym shorts and tugging them down.

Diana grasped my cock in one hand, squeezing the bulging veins and feeling its weight. I felt as if I were absolutely pinned to the table. She stroked my throbbing member with the same finesse she’d just used to work my body over. With one hand she continued kneading me between my legs and tickling my balls while she massaged my cock with the other. I stared wide eyed into her sweet, smiling face with its halo of short red hair. I imagined her pussy, pink and juicy, with wisps of auburn hair delicately framing its mystic cove. I could see her tiny waist giving way to the gentle fullness of her hips. She blinked dreamily at me as she jerked me to fullness and beyond. I wanted to surround myself with her yet her hands, those incredible, knowing hands, surrounded me.

I lifted my hips just slightly as she stroked my steel rod. Tugging on my balls with the smallest bit of force, she sent me reeling and I began to come. My hot fluid flew out and dripped over her hand as she pumped me for every bit of juice I could throw.

I lay there for several minutes, unwilling to move, uncertain of what to say. Diana retrieved the towel from the floor where it had fallen and wiped the come from her hands. I smiled at the roundness of her ass as she bent to pick it up and wished that I could see her naked. I didn’t know if the sex was part of the massage and I was in the dark about a whole new segment of the club’s activities or if Diana and I had just hit it off right away.

“This isn’t the typical massage,” she said, as if reading my mind.

“It certainly isn’t,” I agreed, smiling.

“I hope you won’t . . .” she began.

“I hope you’ll join me for dinner this week,” I interrupted. Diana was a good thing I sensed it. I had never felt so enthused after sex before, and to think I’d only been masturbated! But it wasn’t just masturbation it was an erotic experience the likes of which I’d never known, and it changed my appreciation of sex for life.

I met Diana after work on Friday and knew right away that I hadn’t been mistaken. She was dressed very stylishly and sexily in loose silk pants that fell around her sweet, round ass and clung to the V of her crotch perfectly. She wore no bra but, instead, a dark camisole beneath her open blouse, and her firm, small breasts pointed rebelliously at me. She looked very young all of a sudden. I felt my thirty two years creeping up on me and wondered if this female firecracker was more than I could handle. I watched her red hair fall across her green eyes as she smiled and grabbed my arm briefly but firmly, and we were off.

We ended up in a sushi bar, and I let my knee rest on hers as I watched her delicate pink tongue dart out and hook a piece of pink meat. Conversation flowed easily as we sipped sake and tasted raw tidbits. I admired her muscular physique and was dying to see it nude. When I suggested we return to my apartment, she hesitated I first thought because of lack of interest. Then she stated the real reason: she wanted me to come to her place, where she could give me another massage.

Hopefully I entered her small apartment with the blood surging up and down the length of my dick. I could feel my swelling push against the cotton of my underwear. I stood in the middle of her living room while she slowly and lovingly unbuttoned my shirt, running a hand over my pecs and giving my shoulders a squeeze. Then she reached for my zipper. I pulled her closer and she sought my lips, sticking her tongue deep inside my open mouth. At the same time she worked the muscles of my back with her free hand.

My cock ached to be set free as Diana lingered at my fly. She let her hand rest against my crotch, the bulge pushing comfortably into the cup of her palm. I reached around and squeezed her firm, round ass, enjoying the feeling of her flesh encased in silk. Then she moved away. Taking my hand, she led me through her bedroom to a smaller room.

Pink light colored a closet she had converted into a workout room. There was an exercise pad on the floor, a stationary bicycle and some free weights. She stepped out of her pants and stood above me in tiny black briefs. She had eased me to the floor, where I lay across the mat, dying to feel her hands on my flesh. Diana positioned herself above me and sought my toes to begin her journey of sexual celebration. I lay still as each toe was carefully caressed and soothed. I felt the release as tension flew from between each one. I was so aware of her beautiful red pink womanhood, which was so close that I could smell her pungent odor. I felt no overcoming need to take this woman, as I often had in the past. I reveled in the sensations of her exploring my body and wondered if this would be one time in my life when I could let go of my macho need to control and allow myself to enjoy the love that one person can give another.

Diana worked her way up my legs, her ass still twirling in front of my face. I raised my head and pushed my nose into her black silk cheeks, and she giggled and snuggled closer to me. As she worked my legs as though they were threads of muscle, each requiring special attention, I wanted to reciprocate. I reached up and stroked her smooth, sleek back.

I focused on the breaks between the vertebrae as I saw a bit of moisture develop in the seam of her panties. Diana approached the sensitive spot beneath my balls with her knowing touch. She worked me beneath my scrotum and gripped my buttocks with her hands. She began to stroke my cock as I worked my hands up her back. I reached around in front of her and slowly, fingertip by fingertip, insinuated myself against her fine breasts.

Diana seemed to grab my ass with the same slow intensity. Although I had never had a woman touch my asshole before, I now felt her tickling my anus. I reveled in the flicking of her finger across my tight sphincter, rejoiced in the heat of her fleshy tits in my hands, thrilled to each stroking of my cock.

Diana turned around, shed her black panties and faced me. Her hands left my crotch and gently poked and prodded my chest and shoulders. The stress being released from the top of my back seemed to make my cock stiffen even more. She pushed deep into the muscles of my shoulders and my arms felt limp. My hard on raged and my hips rose slightly, and the tip of my cock brushed her labia.

As I entered her, I felt myself responding with the wellness and joy flowing through my entire body. Diana’s caresses had certainly rejuvenated me. Even as I traveled deep inside her pussy, my fantasy came to life, because my entire body had been touched. I longed for more of Diana’s sensual wisdom, and my cock felt energized within her.

I felt her hands defining the musculature of my pecs, and I held her arms as lightly as possible to try to feel the magic they possessed, as I felt my balls exploding with their hot potion.

Shivers ran through my body as my orgasm sizzled down my spine. Her pussy was as well trained as her hands and milked me for every drop I had. I continued to delve within her, not wanting the pleasure to recede. Yet Diana sat atop me, my dick firmly planted within her, and wove her magic by slowly caressing my head. Her hands ran skillfully across my scalp my ears were soothed with the wisps of her fingertips. My face was recreated by her touch, my eyelashes drawn by the merest of strokes. How was it possible that I had lived so long without this festival of body worship? I longed to reciprocate for the pleasure that Diana was showing me. At that moment, the only way of doing that was through my dick. So slowly I hardened again. Already inside her luscious cunt, I now began to probe carefully. I sensed the tingle of her giving way inside, the seeming shattering of glass as Diana’s composure dripped away through her cunt. She gave a scream of surrender as we grasped each other in delight. Diana’s tiny body twisted in joy as I felt her contractions grip and release, love and fuck a moment to die in as the sweet redhead flailing above me elicited a second shot of sperm from my aching balls.

Sweet heat, fuck, come and pleasure. It felt as though I had finally learned the true joy of sex. It comes from within. Not within my cock, but within my entire body. Each muscle, each tendon, every atom contributes to the joy of sex. Without Diana, I never would have known.

Erotic massage is growing to be the lifeblood of my sexual experience. Diana and I have reached a nirvana I never thought possible. Without the massage aspect of our relationship, I would never have transcended the day to day experiences of life sex would have continued to be a quick release and not the liberating force I think it’s truly meant to be.

Diana, though ten years my junior, is a truly talented teacher. I have begun to learn the ways along her sleek muscles and trim body and can travel knowingly her road of pleasure. I love every inch of her, and she loves me. Our erotic massage experiences have caused our bodies to merge into one flowing, erotic place.

Lady Fingers

You know I can hardly believe I waited until I was thirty seven before experiencing erotic massage. It s become a part of my life ever since. I can t imagine doing without it. When my wife kneads the tension out of my muscles, it sends a soothing warmth throughout my body, freeing pent up tension. And her deep, penetrating rubs and light fingertip strokes bring me to complete sexual surrender. I used to think of massage simply as an effective method of pain relief. But I remember the first time I experienced it as erotic foreplay.

I d been playing for my company s flag football team the day before, foolishly assuming that I could exert myself like I did when I was a college athlete. I d kept myself in reasonably good shape by working out at the YMCA twice a week, but I still wasn t prepared for all the diving leaps I made to catch those passes.

When I woke up the next morning, my whole body was racked with soreness. Veronica was curled up on her side by me, her long, shiny black hair strewn wildly about her pillow. Her breasts moved smoothly with her breathing as she slept. I had to be in extreme pain not to be inspired with passion by the sight of her. I slowly got out of bed, careful not to wake her, and moved gingerly to the bathroom to get in a hot tub. My hamstrings were so knotted up, I could barely walk.

The hot, bubbly water felt good. After about twenty minutes I got out, my body flushed with a glowing heat, but the pain was still there, deep in my tissues.

Veronica stood at the entrance to the bathroom, her white bathrobe hugging her curves. How about that body rub? she asked. Ever since we d been living together, she d bragged about her massages, although I d never taken her up on her offer. But believe me, about this, I had no idea what I was missing.

Veronica had me lie facedown on our bedroom s soft, shag carpet with my arms at my sides. She dried me off with a soft towel. Next, she rubbed warm oil into my back and softly fluttered her fingers down it, sending a chill of anticipation throughout my body. Then she cupped her hands over my sore upper back and applied pressure. Using her body weight, she pressed harder and harder with her palms. Though it was almost painful, it felt good as she rubbed and kneaded my tight muscles. She slowly worked her way down my back to my legs, and back up again, leaving my body lissome and tingling. My heartbeat grew faster and faster my breathing quickened.

With feather touches, Veronica slid the fingertips of one hand down my spine and gradually slithered her other hand up the inside of my thigh, moving closer and closer to my crotch. My cock stirred underneath me, hardening. Suddenly, and only for an instant, she stroked my balls, making me whimper.

When she rolled me over onto my back and discarded her robe, I thought it was time to pull her soft, naked body hard against mine, but Veronica had other plans. She bent over me, dragging the very tips of her breasts across my bare chest, all the way down to my abdomen. Every bit of tension had been released from my body, heightening my sensitivity, allowing me to enjoy every soft touch to the fullest. Holding one of her breasts in her hands, she slid its smoothness along the underside of my shaft. Moving up toward my swollen head, Veronica then lubricated her nipple with my pre come. I moaned, and the rest of my body reacted by sprouting goose bumps.

Veronica mounted me and pulled my cock inside her tight, slick pussy. I felt a surge of euphoria, and every stroke made the sensation swell even more. Our bodies moved together in a flowing motion, gradually increasing in speed until I was wildly jolting my hips. When my hot seed spurted inside her, Veronica shrieked, coming explosively. We continued bucking our hips, gradually slowing down, enjoying the blissful warmth and closeness.

During the next several weeks, Veronica and I resumed our fast paced lives, which left us with little opportunity for sex. With me working days and Veronica working nights, our time together was extremely limited. If we wanted any sex at all, it had to be quick. Our lovemaking was fiery and intense, but we didn t take the time to enjoy each gentle stroke.

And then one night, when Veronica was working, I caught a show about massage on cable TV. A tall, beautiful woman with an hourglass figure and long, shiny red hair was bent over a man, slowly kneading the muscles of his back and neck. It brought back all my memories of that special moment when Veronica, using her skilled hands released all my tensions, making my every nerve ultra sensitive, and me horny. This was one night when I resolved to slow down long enough to enjoy the pleasures Veronica and I deserved.

I asked Veronica to take Friday off for something special. All week she wanted to know what it was, but I wouldn t tell her. She knew it had to be something good, because I couldn t help grinning every time she asked. By the time Friday came around, I was prepared. I d bought the supplies I needed, and I d even watched one of those professional massage tapes to show me some techniques.

I did go to the office on Friday, but only for a couple of hours. When I got home, Veronica greeted me at the door with a long, passionate kiss, embracing me tightly. We just held each other for a while. Her loving green eyes dazzled me.

Her curvy figure was encased in a black nylon halter dress, cut low to reveal her ample cleavage. Her shiny black hair, tanned skin and lip glossed mouth were perfect for that dress.

To her surprise, I led her into the bedroom and got a leather covered massage table I d rented out of the closet. I put on some soft music, and we began undressing each other. There was no hurry. We had plenty of time. Slowly, I let my hands roam her smooth flesh? flesh I would soon make melt beneath my touch. I gently kissed her and ran my fingers through her hair.

When I had Veronica tie up her hair and lie facedown on the leather table, she softly cooed, as if anticipating the pleasure to come.

In what I thought was a rather imaginative gesture, I put on a pair of black velvet gloves. With the tips of my fingers, I grazed the back of her neck and swirled around her ears, then gradually slid my fingers down her back and over her delicate, curvy butt. I lingered just below her buttocks, softly stroking, then glided my hands down her legs. I repeated this several times, to Veronica s obvious delight.

I took off the gloves, then rubbed oil into her skin until her back, buttocks and legs were shiny and warm. I got out two vibrators that strapped to the back of my hands. They made a melodic hum as I kneaded Veronica s back, pressing deeply with probing fingers. The soothing vibrations passed through my hands and into her flesh, arousing us both. I took my time, allowing Veronica to enjoy every penetrating rub, gradually working my way down to her shapely buttocks. Then I grabbed those cheeks, caressing them deeply, pressing harder and harder, sending vibrations deep into her flesh.

Veronica s breathing was deep and smooth. As I worked her upper legs, my vibrating fingers came close to her pussy, and she shuddered. But I didn t touch her there. I was saving that for later.

I had Veronica roll onto her back, and I climbed on top of her, straddling her waist and reaching down to her neck with both hands. Using her collarbone as a base, I kneaded the back of her shoulders. I slid my fingers down to her breasts and cupped them, allowing the vibrations to penetrate her. She moaned, and her nipples hardened in my palms. My balls were pressed against Veronica s stomach, and I could feel her body vibrating, which further stimulated me. My breathing grew heavy.

I took the vibrators from my hands and pressed my chest against hers. We kissed long and passionately. Running my fingers through her hair, I held her head in my hands as the intensity of our kiss increased. As I slid my cock inside her warm pussy, Veronica wrapped her legs tightly around me, gripping my buttocks, pulling me deeper inside her. She panted and moaned, quivering more and more until she cried out and came. In the next instant, I spurted my load deep inside her. We faded away in each other s arms, in that blissful relaxation we d experienced only once before. Veronica and I swore never to neglect our favorite sexual variation again.

And we haven t, enjoying it even more, perhaps, when we re away from home. I ll never forget the vacation we took together to southern California about a year ago. There we were, in a beautiful little summer cottage in Ventura overlooking the ocean. The only thing to do was relax and enjoy.

That first day we spent on the beach swimming and splashing about in the water. We even rolled around in the sand tickling each other, giggling like new lovers. The ocean and sunshine had a way of bringing out the playfulness in us and igniting our passion. When Veronica and I returned to the house, my cock was bulging in my wet swimming trunks. We got in the shower together with my hard on standing straight out. I was tempted to immediately slide it into Veronica s warm pussy, but I d learned that patience brings greater fulfillment.

With the hot water drenching us, we lathered each other up. I felt Veronica s hands sliding up my back, pressing firmly between my shoulder blades. She had an uncanny ability to sense where I needed her touch the most. At the same time, I kneaded the nape of her neck, then worked my hands firmly down her back over and over. She cooed and looked into my eyes, her lips parted. We pulled our slick bodies together and kissed.

I grabbed Veronica s buttocks and pulled her hips against mine. I caress those creamy hillocks of flesh, tenderly at first and then more firmly pressing my fingers deep into her musculature. She did the same to me, all the while my throbbing cock smashed straight up between us, rubbing against her warm, wet flesh. Doing my best to keep from exploding, I concentrated on pleasing her. I slid my hands underneath her buttocks and massaged the backs of her thighs, then slipped a hand between her legs, stroking her pussy with one finger. Veronica shuddered and rocked her hips.

Oh, Steve, she groaned.

In that instant, I parted her legs and pushed my cock all the way inside her pussy. Veronica s passionate cries resonated in the shower. We bumped our hips together, still massaging each other s butt. Eyes pinched shut, I saw lights flash as I erupted inside her. I continued thrusting until she screamed, Yes, yes, as she came. We held our quivering bodies together as my cock softened and slipped out of her. I looked into Veronica s entrancing eyes and told her how much I loved her.

When we got out of the shower, our bedroom was bathed in the orange light of a glorious sunset. We dried each other with soft cotton towels, savoring every gentle stroke. Veronica had me close my eyes and lie down on the bed as she began rubbing cool baby powder into my tender skin, her nails grazing my chest and abdomen. I could hear my own heartbeat as a sweet lethargy started to overtake me. Veronica lay down next to me and caressed me. We slept blissfully, our warm bodies pressed together.

When I woke up it was completely dark and quiet, except for the waves roaring on the beach. Veronica was sleeping on her side, her body pressed against mine, one arm under her pillow, the other on my chest. Slowly, I sat up and got the baby powder from the nightstand. I rubbed the talc into her breasts, sliding my fingers around them, circling ever closer to her nipples. Cupping my mouth over one nipple, I licked around it and felt it harden. Veronica stirred. I heard her faint moan. She put her soft, powdery hand on my abdomen and slid it down to my erect cock. In the moonlight, I could see her slowly open her eyes and look at me with a yearning.

She sat up and hugged me, pressing her soft breasts against my chest. Her silky hair fell against my neck. We kissed, our tongues entwining and my passion rising as she stroked my cock with her soft fingers. Enjoying her light touch, I got harder and harder. Still kissing her, I eased her onto her back and climbed on top of her. Holding my cock at the base, Veronica pulled me inside her. I pressed in to the hilt and paused, shuddering, before easing myself back out. I continued these gradual strokes for as long as I could, until the intense rush of pleasure overwhelmed us and we began thrusting our hips together. Veronica arched her back and screamed in orgasm as I kept pumping in and out of her. When I pressed deep inside her, grinding our pubic bones together, Veronica came a second time. I felt a swelling pressure in my cock and, in the next second, I spurted my come into her. We held each other, cooling down, as I passionately kissed her.

Whether Veronica and I use vibrators, gloves, oil, powder or simply our bare hands, our lovemaking is exquisitely satisfying every time. Through erotic massage, we enjoy a degree of sensuality most people probably never experience.

Healing Touches

Just one massage that s all it took to change our sex life. Once Todd laid his attentive hands on my skin and skillfully worked his fingers into my tight muscles, I simply
opened up like a flower. Through erotic massage, Todd released a new sexual force hidden deep inside me. He forged a physical and mental bond between us that has increased my awareness of and need for pleasure.

What became the mainstay of our sexual relationship started as a fluke. Todd works as a financial planner for a mega corporation. Last year he was required to take a long and exhausting trip to Japan. While there he was treated to a business massage after a long day of meetings. It was a nonsexual experience, of course, but he was amazed by how rejuvenated it made him feel. Following the massage, he was able to relax and function effortlessly again.

So it was with this memory of the fine art of massage that he first touched me with the intent of relieving me from a day of stress. I work for a prominent city official as a press secretary. The level of stress is constant, yet some days are worse than others. It was a day the media came after my boss about a major screwup, and I returned to our apartment in a foul mood. Dumping my briefcase by the door, I was headed straight for the bar when Todd came in behind me. Whew, you look steamed. Rough one, baby? he said.

If I had the time that reporters have to investigate every penny flinching scheme in every corner of city government, I could run this city. They just sit and wait like vultures.

I stared at myself in the mirror behind the bar. I had on a bright red suit with a matching wide brimmed hat. It was the kind of outfit I wore to get attention when I deemed it necessary to pump up my boss on camera. Todd put his hands on my shoulders and pressed against the knots of tension that spread across my shoulders. He worked his thumbs along my clavicle, firmly pressing the tightness away from my neck and down my arms. Todd has large, strong hands. His fingers are long and straight, much like the rest of him. He is six feet two inches tall, with blondish hair, hazel eyes and a very engaging smile.

Pouring me a sherry, Todd suggested I take off my suit so he could give me a massage. He laid a thick down comforter on the living room floor, turned on some soft music and led me by the hand.

I lay facedown, naked, as Todd began to work over my stress weary muscles. I could feel the tension dissipate as he carefully kneaded my flesh. His hands were warm, and I tried to relax. He continued prodding away the tension in my shoulders, and soon my arms felt like two limp strings along my sides. I enjoyed the feel of his hands on me as he kissed my neck and softly caressed my ears.

He squatted over me in his boxers and from time to time I could feel his testicles, hanging low and heavy, traipse across my back. He played with the back of my head like it was a delicate musical instrument. It was wonderful to have the tips of his fingers lovingly massaging my scalp. He seemed to lure the tense thoughts right out of my brain. In the meantime, I daydreamed some very erotic scenes.

As Todd worked down my torso, I began to feel a wonderful tingle that came from his magic handiwork. His steady ministrations on the small of my back caused a delightful warmth that spread down my legs. I was getting incredibly turned on. Todd s hands traveled down my legs, chasing the warmth, expertly tracing the muscles of my thighs and calves and relieving them of their aches and pains. He traced the insides of my legs with a subtle fanning of his fingers, and I felt a trickle of excitement in my vagina.

He stroked my ass slowly, following the crease and rubbing gently on my anus. His fingers tickled my lower labia, and again an incredible flush of excitement ran through me. His emphasis had not been purely sexual up to this point, but now the increased moisture at my core left little doubt as to where I wanted his hands to go.

He spread my legs further apart and began seriously kneading the muscles at the tops of my thighs. His fingers continued to knead the tension away, but I had this mind boggling need for him to put his fingers inside me.

A mere flick of his finger along my labia sent waves of heat through me. I eased my hips up further to give him better access to my moist sex.

Todd responded by grabbing my pelvis in his hands and carefully applying pressure there. His hands nearly circled my waist, and his fingers were kneading the area around my pussy. I was so turned on that I was ready to beg Todd to penetrate me.

As I lay on my stomach, I visualized his nakedness poking out from the flap in his boxers, aimed at my pussy. My body was so relaxed, yet my mind was racing. His fingers were probing, petting, seducing my sex to let go. He opened me with his hands. Finding my throbbing clitoris, he continued his pliant stroking. It was as if he had spent the past half hour fine tuning my body for the explosion that was now inevitable.

My body was awash with the warmth of his ministrations. My legs were soothed and tingling. My pussy felt like a forceful fire. A few more moments of this erotic attention and my fire could no longer be contained. The flames poured forth, an unbelievable release that continued for several minutes, my whole body and soul delighting in this sensual adventure.

The evening continued with long, delicious lovemaking. Todd entered me from behind and fucked me with animal passion. I had never been so relaxed and happy to receive him. I concentrated on giving him pleasure, using my vaginal muscles to the best of my ability. As Todd s hard cock bore into me, I gripped him and met him stroke for stroke. Our rhythm was exceptional, and soon another orgasm was overtaking me as Todd exploded with force inside my pussy.

From that night on, erotic massage became a vital part of our lovemaking. Under the spell of Todd s strong hands, I let go of the stress and worry that often inhibited me during sex. Once my body and mind were unencumbered, our sex was carefree and consequently more fun and fulfilling.

Todd s loving ways and patience gave me a newfound appreciation for sensual pleasures, so it was inevitable that I would want to return the pleasure in the same way. I tried massaging his tired and overworked muscles. Through practice, I learned different techniques of massage. I explored pressure points and my ability to siphon off the tension through those points. But the most memorable evening of erotic massage happened one Friday night after a most strenuous workweek.

We began as we often do with light cocktails to ease into the weekend. I set out the pad we had purchased for our massage sessions. I covered it with a fresh white sheet and set aside some lotion and warm towels. I stripped down to a pair of sheer panties and helped Todd undress, too. I could practically see the band of tension running across his shoulder blades, and I knew he would require special attention. I knelt and undid his belt, unzipped his pants and let them drop to the floor. He stepped out of his boxers and kicked them and his pants aside. His cock was in that half awake state that I find extremely enticing, and I yearned to take him in my mouth, but first things first.

I reached up to him and guided him down to the mat. I nudged him onto his belly and began to work on his shoulders. I started slowly, easing my fingers into the tendons that felt like iron. Take a deep breath or two, I suggested. Deeper probing, and soon I could feel him loosening up. I worked from his shoulders down his back, enjoying the feel of his flesh beneath my hands.

As I worked his back, pushing the tension away in a circular motion, I descended slowly to his buttocks. His tight mounds of flesh were sexy, with the little feathering of down that peeked out from between his upper thighs. I massaged his tailbone and then grasped his asscheeks and plied them firmly. I heard Todd sigh and knew the positive effect I was having on him. I kneaded his ass muscles, slightly tickling beneath his balls as I did so. I loved the sight of his soft sac packed in between his legs. I knew he was sporting a major hard on.

I went down to his feet, working on his instep and Achilles tendon. His feet were very sensitive, so he wiggled a bit and laughed as I worked patiently, pulling the tension from each toe. I soothed the tightness from his feet, giving each one a kiss before moving up his legs.

It was time to turn Todd over, and I did so carefully. As he rolled over, I noted the peaceful smile he had on his face. Yet there was also a look of wanting. His cock stood eight glorious inches high and seemed to wave at me. Working Todd over had gotten me extremely horny, and I was dying to just sit right down on his hard cock. I realized, though, that I had a fantasy that seemed so close to coming true, I couldn t stop myself from seeing it to the end.

Since we began enjoying erotic massage, I had fantasized about getting Todd off without my ever touching his cock. To me, that would really be something. I saw a large drop of pre come drizzle down his shaft, and I knew he was close to exploding. I worked my way up his legs, rubbing the sides of his calves, then pressing harder on his quads. As I inched my way closer to his balls, I could hear his breath shorten. He gazed at me in earnest need. I played with the flesh on the insides of his legs. I worked my thumbs up beneath his sac and tickled his perineum.

I reached in the direction of his shaft, though I never touched it. Instead, I fanned out my fingers just above his hard column of manhood that throbbed for relief. Any moment now I was expecting to hear him whine Please.

All the time I continued to apply pressure just beneath his balls. The knot of hot muscle expanded and throbbed. I knew he was close. My nails skated delicately along the insides of his legs until finally he called out, My God, Judith, please! I m going to come!

His hips bucked forward and a great gob of come flew out. I grabbed his deep red cock in my hand and stroked forth the rest of his ejaculate as he shrieked his gratitude.

My own needs were soon satisfied as Todd recovered from his hands off orgasm by bringing me to a very hands on orgasm.

Patiently, teasingly, he caressed me all over, his expert, sensual touch bringing me closer and closer to the sweet satisfaction I craved. Finally, with one of his hands locked on to my breast, squeezing it firmly, and the other hotly hugging my sopping wet pussy, I_came explosively, shuddering from head to foot as successive bursts of pleasure rocked my body. Oh, how I do love erotic massage!

Her Magic Touch

When people think of working as a masseuse, they tend to imagine this terribly erotic job that leads to scores of sexual encounters. That’s not the case, nor is it the reason I chose my field. I’d been trained as a physical therapist and decided that managing my own massage business would be more lucrative, and I’ve never regretted my choice.

As I said before, my work is not at all sexual. Dragging my portable table around Manhattan has allowed me to meet many fascinating men, but they’d been all business to me. But that all changed when I met Tom.

My schedule had been booked with regulars, and I’d decided to refuse any new business for a while. My clients were mostly rich businessmen who had heard of me via word of mouth, so I suppose part of my success had to do with my looks. I’m a five foot eight inch blonde with blue eyes and a generously endowed bustline. Though many of my clients may have ended up on my table just to check out the ‘hot masseuse,’ they generally stayed because of my skillful hands and professional attitude.

As a result, massage had provided me with the lifestyle I’d always craved. I owned my own plush, rather small, downtown apartment, which was filled with designer furniture. I had a nice wardrobe, and could treat myself to a good meal from time to time. Overall, I was happy and content. But then the phone rang one morning and my life changed forever.

I answered, and a man’s voice, deep, rich and smooth as silk, responded. ‘Is this Stephanie?’

I quickly shook off the shivers his words had caused and said, ‘Yes.’

His voice continued to play with my senses as he introduced himself. He went on to say that he’d gotten my name from his friend, Clint, and wanted to know if I was free one afternoon. Since Clint was one of my better clients, I agreed to juggle my schedule and meet Tom at his office on his lunch hour one day later that week. I was intensely curious to see the man who belonged to such a sexy voice.

When the time finally came to meet Tom, my heart was beating in anticipation as his secretary showed me into his twenty fifth floor office with a spectacular view. I set up my table near the windows so that he could enjoy the view while I worked. Then I took a few deep breaths and gazed outside in order to calm my unexpected bout of nerves.

‘Stephanie.’ His slick voice broke into my thoughts and made me whirl around, and I wasn’t disappointed. Tom’s black hair contrasted with the intense blue of his eyes, and his dress shirt looked as if it covered a body that was sculpted to perfection. He was as sexy as his voice had suggested he’d be.

I recovered as quickly as I could and tried to assume the brisk manner that usually told men there would be nothing but business during their session. But when I walked toward him and grasped his hand my control melted away. His grip was strong and warm, his gaze was deep, and I was lost.

Finally he stepped back. ‘So what do I do here?’

I wet my lips. ‘Get undressed.’


‘However you feel comfortable.’ I handed him a thin sheet and he walked toward his bathroom. I sighed deeply as he shut the door behind him and half hoped that he undress only from the waist up, because for the first time in my career, I was wet with desire for a client. But no such luck. He emerged from the bathroom clutching the sheet at his sculpted abdomen, his broad chest dusted with dark hair.

I motioned him to the table and he lay on his stomach. I rubbed some almond oil between my palms, then set to work on the taut muscles of his back. I worked my way down his spine, and with each deep rub, I became more turned on, until my pussy ached with desire. Then, when I slid my hands just underneath the edge of the sheet, I could have sworn I heard him groan, though that may have just been wishful thinking on my part.

I reluctantly moved to the end of the table and began working on his calves, up to his knees, until I finally reached his thigh muscles. As I rubbed the scented oil into the skin there, I longed to slide my hands higher up the length of his asscrack and over his balls. I looked up to find Tom staring at me with darkened eyes, and I was embarrassed to realize that my breath was coming in shallow puffs through parted lips. I pressed them together and smiled at him.

‘When you say ‘full body massage,” he started, then he shuddered as my fingertips brushed his asscheeks. He took a deep breath. ‘Do you also do the muscles of the chest?’

I swallowed so that my voice didn’t sound as thick as it felt in my throat. ‘I can.’

He nodded. ‘That’s good, because my chest feels awfully tight.’

I moved away so that he could turn over, and rubbed some more oil between my palms. When I turned back, I wasn’t surprised that his cock had created a tent with the sheet. I was, however, almost shocked to see how high this particular tent was pitched.

I knew he was still staring at me so I tried not to let my gaze linger there. Instead, I leaned over him and got back down to business, working my fingers into the muscles just below his clavicle. My breasts were almost touching his chest, and I was sure he’d noticed that my nipples were hard nubs beneath my thin white blouse and satin bra. As I kneaded his pecs, my thumb brushed one of his nipples.

Tom caught my wrist. ‘I don’t want to insult you, but would you mind terribly if I took this sheet off?’

I hesitated. I knew what he was asking me, and as much as I wanted to see, touch, taste his cock, I was struggling with a professional ethical dilemma. He seemed to sense my hesitation and began stroking my wrist lightly with his thumb. ‘I would be paying for the massage only.’ His eyes seemed completely sincere and I wet my lips. Then he smiled that sinful smile. ‘And I can make it worth your while in a way that has absolutely nothing to do with money.’

I would have let him remove the sheet without the last statement, although those words had me in a state that went way beyond intrigued. My face must have shown that, because he smiled and slid the sheet to the floor.

I looked at his smooth, thick cock and my mouth watered in anticipation. But I decided to take my time, to torture him, as well as to prolong my own desire. Tom reached up and caressed my breast, and my fingers stilled on his rib cage as I let out a low whimper. His cock twitched, and I longed to take it in my hands, but first I looked at his face. ‘I never do this,’ I said.

‘I wasn’t expecting you to,’ he replied. ‘I was only looking for a massage until I walked in and saw you.’

His words further reassured me, and I slid my hands down to his washboard abdomen. He sucked in a breath as I played there for a while, then let it out in a furious sigh as I ran my fingers along the base of his cock.

I raked my teeth over my bottom lip and reached for my bottle of oil. He seemed mesmerized as I poured the slippery liquid through my fingers and let it drip onto his throbbing erection. My practiced hands began stroking him lightly, teasing his pulsing cockhead and then running slowly down his shaft.

Tom propped himself up, his teeth clenched as he watched me. ‘Fuck, that feels good.’ As my thumb circled his cockhead, he let his head fall back. ‘Oh, yeah,’ he groaned. I nudged his legs apart until they fell and dangled at the sides of the table, forcing him into a reclined sitting position. Then I hiked up my skirt and climbed onto the table between his knees.

I always wear a white blouse and black skirt to my appointments in order to look professional, but now I found my outfit had previously unseen advantages. When I pushed my skirt to my hips, Tom had a perfect view of my thigh high stockings, garter belt and shaved pussy.

His mouth dropped open as he stared at my cunt. ‘This has got to be the fucking best day of my life,’ he murmured, although it was more to himself than to me, I thought.

I grasped his dick in my fist and began sliding it up and down. Thick and throbbing, he felt amazing in my hand, and I began thrusting my hips as I massaged him. And just when I was sure he was about to erupt in my hand, he grasped my wrist gently, stilling its movement.

‘I want to watch you,’ he panted. I frowned, not sure I understood. Licking his lips, Tom looked at my glistening cunt. ‘I want to see how an expert masseuse gets herself off.’

No man had ever suggested I masturbate for him before, and the idea was so erotic that my pussy immediately began to quiver. I let go of his cock and poured some oil into my palm, although I was positively dripping already. But I liked knowing that he was watching the slippery liquid slide over my fingertips and onto the bare inches of flesh between my stockings and my cunt.

I dripped some more oil onto his cock before I put the bottle aside and walked my fingers over my thigh. As I made small, slick circles on my flesh, Tom grasped his dick in his fist and began pumping up and down.

Yet another sexual experience I’d never had watching a man jerk off. I kept my eyes trained on him as his strong hand slid up and down in a very practiced fashion. My fingers moved to my pussy, and I pushed them into my drenched hole and fucked myself, thrusting forward to bury them deep. Tom’s hand flew faster over his cock, and quickly, I was on the verge of orgasm.

I withdrew my fingers from my cunt and slid them over my soaking wet lips. Tom groaned at that and panted a tortured, ‘Fuck,’ as I rolled my hips back and inserted a finger into my asshole. I knew he couldn’t hold out much longer, and frankly, neither could I. Slipping the fingers of my other hand over my pussy until I reached my clit, once there, I began caressing the engorged nub as I usually did in private while I fantasized about situations nowhere nearly as erotic as this one.

Tom’s eyes seemed to be locked on my cunt and his fist flew furiously over his dick. I rubbed my clit with the tip of one rapidly moving finger, and my entire body tingled in tortured pleasure. Then I tensed, on the brink of the most explosive orgasm of my life. I whimpered as my head fell back, and I bit my lip. Finally, when I could stand it no longer, I tipped over that precarious edge, my pussy dripping onto the table’s surface between us.

With one loud grunt, Tom followed, mingling his come with my juice. Then we collapsed together on the table, Tom lying on his back as I rested my head on his taut stomach.

He chuckled. ‘That was amazing.’

I agreed, and when Tom pulled me onto his strong chest and kissed me deeply, the experience became even more incredible.

‘Would you consider taking me on as one of your regular clients?’ he asked when we’d pulled apart and I’d climbed down.

I wavered. On the one hand, it would be amazing to continue with appointments like this, which were sure to be as pleasing for me as they were for him. But on the other hand, I couldn’t get past the fact that he’d be basically paying me for sexual favors, no matter what I got out of it as well.

I cleared my throat as I adjusted my clothing. ‘I couldn’t possibly see you in this time slot every week. I juggled my schedule to fit you in today, and my regular twelve o’clock wasn’t very happy about it.’

He nodded as he stood and wrapped the sheet around his waist. ‘I understand. What about eight?’

I shook my head. ‘I’ve got an eight o’clock appointment every morning.’

‘I meant in the evening. Tonight. My place.’ I shot him a puzzled look. ‘Have dinner with me . . . and leave your table at home.’

I found myself agreeing, and carried out the rest of my appointments that day in a daze. I was barely aware of my clients, as they had nothing on the one I’d seen at lunchtime.

I got out of the cab later that evening and stared up at one of the most exclusive apartment buildings in New York City. Then I double checked the address. But there was no need, because Tom met me in the lobby and ushered me to his penthouse apartment himself. It was beautiful: One entire wall was floor to ceiling windows, and the view from his office was mundane compared to this view of the glittering skyline.

As I gazed out over the city, Tom came up behind me and handed me a glass of wine. ‘Dinner is being served at nine, so we have an hour to kill.’

My pussy tingled at the possibilities as I asked, ‘What did you have in mind?’

He grinned and cocked his head, indicating that I should follow him. And follow him I did, straight to his bedroom. His king size bed was turned down to reveal white satin sheets, and a few bottles of oil were lined up on the stand next to it.

‘I’m going to pamper you for a change,’ he said. ‘Get undressed.’

‘Completely?’ I asked with a smile.

‘I’d prefer it.’

I slipped out of my pink dress and sandals and Tom watched my every move, his face tight with lust. When I was completely naked he led me to the bed.

I started out on my back and he rubbed lavender oil into my skin with gentle, if unpracticed fingers. ‘How am I doing?’ he asked after a few minutes.

‘Great,’ I answered, and it was the truth. It wasn’t long before his hands had found their way down my back and began caressing my ass from beneath.

I groaned, and he urged me to turn onto my stomach. Then he lowered his head and began sucking first one, then the other breast. I thrust against him as his tongue lashed my nipples. It was a sweet torment, but he didn’t stop his assault until I cried a breathless, ‘Please.’

Tom lifted his head and looked into my eyes with his dangerous blue gaze. ‘That’s right I’m supposed to be using my hands.’ Before I could respond, he’d maneuvered me into a sitting position and had moved behind me so that my back was flush against his chest, my ass pressed against the bulge in his pants.

His hand ran lightly down the valley between my tits, pausing only when a wrist brushed a nipple. Then it continued its path down my flat stomach to the patch of curls below. He played there, driving me crazy once again, and I let my head fall back on his shoulder.

Tom nuzzled my shoulder, kissed my neck and then bit my earlobe gently as he stroked my inner thigh.

‘I want a lesson,’ he whispered, then licked around the rim of my ear. ‘In massage.’

I glanced up at him, hoping he didn’t want me to give him a rubdown at this particular moment. But before I could ask, his fingers had found their way to my pussy. He slid around the drenched folds, never quite touching my clit, never entirely sinking into my hole. I moaned and thrust against his hand.

‘Teach me how to touch you here,’ he whispered.

I melted in joy at the selfless request and placed my hand over his. Then I guided him as I would move. First I sank his fingers deep into my cunt, and I groaned and pressed my head into his shoulder.

‘That’s it,’ he said. ‘Let yourself go.’

I did just that. I guided his hand to my clit and used his fingers to masturbate myself. He picked up on the amount of pressure and the speed that I needed, and it wasn’t long before my hand fell away limp and I was at the mercy of his touch.

I bucked wildly when he found exactly the right spot and rubbed the tip of his finger rapidly over it. Clutching fistfuls of satin sheet, I pressed against Tom until he was pinned between my writhing body and the headboard. Then finally, mercifully, I tipped over the edge, and he thrust his fingers deep into my pussy as my entire body shuddered against him.

I went completely limp for a long while, drinking in great gulps of air while Tom held me tightly. Then I looked up and smiled. ‘If my clients are this relaxed when I’m finished with them, then I’m grossly underpaid.’

‘Are you saying I did well?’

‘You did so well, I think you definitely deserve a reward.’ I climbed off Tom and began removing his clothes, and within a few minutes, he was as naked as I was. I poured some of the lavender oil into my palm and let it drip down over his cock. Not bothering with the preliminaries of a massage this time, I simply grasped his shaft and began pumping up and down. Jim groaned and thrust his hips in time with my movements, effectively fucking my fist, and when I saw how close he was getting I removed my hand and straddled his waist.

My cunt swallowed Tom’s erection as I lowered myself down on it. Then, perched over his body on my hands and knees, I rode his stiff cock, squeezing my pussy muscles around his shaft as I did, as though massaging him from inside. It didn’t take long before he was shooting his load deep inside of me, and I quickly followed, coming for a second time.

After we dressed in the bare minimum of clothing and had a lovely dinner, we went back to the bedroom where I gave him a real lesson in massage. Which, of course, led to a night of sucking and fucking. And after a few more sessions of the same, it didn’t take much for Tom to convince me to reduce my client load down to one satisfied customer him, of course in return for becoming his wife.

Lube Job

I love my husband’s cock. Looking at it turns me on. Touching it makes me wet. I like tickling the shaft with my fingertips, cupping the head with the whole of my palm, teasing the length with my parted lips. Plainly speaking, I can’t get enough. Luckily for me, Ron is more than happy to fulfill my longings. When I want him to do me up against the wall, he will. When I ask for a little backdoor action, he quickly acquiesces.

Sometimes, though, I crave more than a simple fuck. Sometimes I enjoy creating a fantasy to go along with the ride. Like just the other day, when I wanted Ron to take care of me as if I were a fancy piece of machinery and he was a kinky garage attendant. I envisioned him oiling me up and rubbing me all over. Not only with his strong, sturdy hands, but with that bulging, powerful muscle that I adore so much. A massage that began with his fingertips and ended with his throbbing hard on.

The inspiration came to me in an innocent enough way, from a note on the calendar, written in my husband’s bold hand. Big black letters spelled out the words LUBE JOB, TODAY! The message was intended as a simple reminder for me to bring our convertible to the local garage for a tune up. But as I stared at the words, an entirely different and very sexy idea began to form in my head. Motivated by the prospect of sexual fireworks, I spent the latter part of the afternoon making my fantasy a reality.

First, I visited a bath boutique, on a quest for sweet smelling oils. Next, I went to a candle store, to search for some mood lighting. Visiting each place on my list excited me more and more, and by the time I reached the hardware shop, the final destination of the day, my pussy was already dripping wet. Could I wait the few more hours until my husband came home? I forced myself to.

That night, Ron walked into a completely transformed living room. When he opened the front door, the first sight to greet him was a brand new rubber sheet spread out on the middle of our carpeted floor. In the flickering light from candles positioned on all available ledges, the transparent sheet already appeared to be slick and wet. The second thing Ron saw was me standing in the doorway, wearing my skimpiest lavender bikini and holding a bottle of sweet almond oil in one hand. With my long red hair hanging in loose waves down my back, and a pair of white high heeled sandals on my feet, I looked ready to fucking eat.

Ron didn’t say anything about the new decor. All he did was wink at me as he slipped out of his navy suit jacket and loosened his silk tie. I saw the spark in his velvety blue eyes as he worked to process the situation. Finally, grinning as if he understood exactly what I had planned, he asked, “Is hot oil wrestling on our agenda for tonight, Dana?”

I shook my head and then motioned for him to continue removing his clothes. “I took the car in today,” I reminded him. “You know, for the lube job.”

The way I said those last two words made Ron stare fiercely at me. Then he quickly finished undressing all the way down to his blue and white striped boxers. I enjoyed the striptease from the doorway, watching the revelation of my husband’s strong chest, fine arms and muscled stomach before turning my hungry gaze lower.

The outline of Ron’s erection was already evident beneath his shorts, and the promise of his hard on had me weak. For an instant, I considered taking a pass on my well made plans of passion. Forget the massage, I thought to myself, skip the sultry feeling of our well oiled bodies slip sliding together on the rubber sheet and get right down to business. All I wanted to do was climb on that throbbing cock and go for a ride. Still, I knew from previous experience that if I controlled myself now, the reward would be that much greater.

Taking a deep breath, I continued to give Ron clues as to what I had in store for him. “Your note on the calendar made me think that maybe something else in our house could use a little under the hood work,” I told him, walking forward to stand in the very center of the sheer rubber sheet. I knew this was going to get messy, which is why I was so well prepared.

Ron got my message instantly. “Is it about time for your thousand mile checkup?” he drawled, taking a step toward me.

Obviously, he was going to play the game with me. But since I’d started us off, we were going to play by my rules. Very slowly, I unscrewed the cap from the bottle and poured a generous pool of golden oil into the open palm of my hand. With Ron watching intently, I began to rub the glistening liquid into my deeply tanned skin. I took my time, knowing that he was drinking in my every motion, captivated by the way I touched myself and I touched myself all over. My fingertips lingered at each of my husband’s favorite locations, as if I were taking a personal tour of his four star sites. The subtle rise of my collarbones. The delicate swan like curve of my neck. The luscious dip between my firm, round breasts.

“That’s the way,” Ron whispered encouragingly, his voice low.

Carefully, I worked my hand lower, moving my palm in an exaggeratedly slow manner along my concave belly until I reached the ridiculously small strip of fabric covering my drenched pussy. When my fingers touched my clit through the fabric, I felt a shocking jolt of pleasure. Quickly, I shut my eyes, enjoying the decadent feeling of a very personal massage.

Then Ron said, “Dana, you are so fucking hot. I want you to watch yourself.” His voice quivered with desire.

At his request, I opened my eyes again, staring into the mirror above the fireplace. In the shimmering lights from the candles on the mantle, my skin began to take on a polished sheen. It’s the look I get when we hang out at the beach, our bodies glazed with suntan lotion, our skin hot from the shining California sun, our libidos pumping. But now, we were alone, in the privacy of our living room. We could do anything we wanted, and it was my goal to make Ron so hard he wouldn’t know what to do first.

Standing in the center of the sheet, I pulled the bikini bottom away from my body and liberally squirted a shot of oil right against my clit. The oil hit the mark and then slid down between my plump pussy lips. I gave myself another blast from the bottle, squeezing hard so that the spray rained powerfully against me.

Wet and slippery lubrication dripped down the very center of my clean shaved cunt before sliding along my inner thighs to coat my skin. All I wanted was to reach in and touch myself, to thrust my fingers up inside my body and stroke my pussy walls until I reached a powerful climax. Biting back a hoarse moan, I brought my hand into my bathing suit, my fingers ready to take the plunge deep inside my cunt, but Ron stopped me.

“You know, Miss, if you don’t mind me saying, you should really let a professional take care of that area.” As he spoke, he reached for the bottle. “Why don’t you let me have a look?”

He was going to make my daydream come true. Playing the role of a handsome and sexy grease monkey, Ron was prepared to give me a seriously sexual examination. With a sly smile, he helped me to sprawl out on the sheet. It felt good to be down on the floor, because my legs had gone wobbly at the thought of my husband exploring my most private of areas. But although I was more than ready for him to fuck me, he took his time. His fingers began their journey at the top of my body, untying the string of my bikini top from under my cinnamon colored hair and pulling the tiny wisp of fabric away from my breasts.

So beautiful,” Ron sighed, staring at my bare breasts. He observed me in sex charged silence for another moment before pouring some oil onto his hands and then rubbing his palms together. I knew what his slicked up skin would feel like a second before he began to massage my breasts. The sensation was incredible. Slippery fingers caressed the soft sides of my tits, then moved up and over, palming the rounded curves.

“Look at that,” he murmured. “Your nipples get hard before I even touch them.”

“Touch them anyway,” I begged. “Please, Ron.”

At my request, he spent several minutes playing over my ripe nipples with his knowledgeable fingers, rubbing the very tips over the hard balls until I arched my back and groaned. Then, when I thought I could take nothing else, he pinched my nipples gently, making me moan even louder. Each time his slippery fingers made contact, a hot charge shot through my whole body, emanating from my throbbing clit outward in dizzying waves.

When my tits were literally dripping with oil, my husband stood and stripped off his boxers. His large, hard cock was swollen to purple at the tip and looked ready to erupt, volcano style. I was expecting him to take down my bikini bottoms and slide that lovely organ deep into my wet and ready pussy. He surprised me, moving up my body instead to straddle my well lubed breasts.

“Some dipstick,” I told him, unable to keep the smile off my face.

“Not ready to check your oil level yet,” Ron murmured. “I have a preliminary test I’d like to do first.” With that, Ron slid his cock between my oil slicked breasts and began to fuck them. He held them together at the sides, creating the fit around his prick that he was looking for. His cock slipped back and forth between my well lubricated tits, and I felt as if he were massaging me there with the whole of his rod. He rocked it, thrust it and traveled that valley filled with golden oil until he could no longer take the wonderful friction anymore. From close range, I got to see what his cock looks like when it’s fucking me. The tip turned a deep eggplant hue and then started to drip pre come. Ron sighed, whispering to me how good it felt.

“So tight,” he said. “Soft and tight.”

Our fingers overlapping, I helped him to hold my breasts tightly together. And then suddenly, Ron was coming, spreading his white semen across my heaving chest in delicate designs. He came hard, closing his eyes, gasping and sighing my name, “Dana, Dana, Dana,” as the erotic pressure completely overwhelmed him.

After a moment, I brought one hand up to my chest, trailing my fingers through the evidence of my husband’s spent pleasure. I thought he would want to take a break then to catch his breath, but he had no such thoughts. His hands were already busy, stroking along the sides of my ribs, touching and teasing, moving up and down, sliding beneath my body. I felt as if he were rubbing me everywhere at once. Each time his hands made contact with a new part of my skin, my entire body trembled. And the longer he made me wait for him to touch my pussy, the more excited I got.

Ron spent a good long time massaging me. He splayed his fingers over my skin, made butterfly like patterns as he rubbed along my body. He used his palms, fingertips and forearms to spread the oil evenly. All I could do was sigh. It felt so good to be touched all over like that. Not just my breasts, but my ribs, my calves, my inner thighs. I basked in the attention and tried to force myself to focus on how amazing it felt and not on how close I was to coming.

After arousing me with his erotic massage, he danced his fingers along the indent of my belly, moving to rest between my legs. Looking up at me, he said in mock surprise, “Dana, you’ve drenched your bikini bottoms. I’ll have to take them off.”

Then, with a spark in his eyes that I easily recognized, he slid my bathing suit down past my sleek thighs. I sucked in my breath as his fingers probed me, parting the pillow soft lips of my pussy and opening me up.

“Oh, you’re so wet,” he murmured. “Show me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Start your engine for me,” he explained, once again playing the mechanic’s role. “Rev yourself up while I watch.” He had to bite back a low chuckle. “It always helps if the owner shows me how to work her machine.”

That was something we hadn’t done in a long time, and I found myself excited at the thought. He wanted to see how I would touch myself on my own. With my eyes shut, I brought one hand between my legs. I was still oiled up, so my fingers slipped over my clit, making my hips buck involuntarily. Getting into the rhythm, I began to move my fingers over and around my little pearl. Making figure eights and spirals, I traced pictures of pleasure around my clit that moved away from the hot zone and then back to it.

Ron was watching at such close proximity that I could feel his breath against my pussy. This turned me on even more. To know that he was staring at my cunt while I grew more and more aroused made me moan. Then his hand was on top of mine, moving with me, but with added pressure. The extra weight felt so intense I thought I would come on the spot, but my husband had other plans.

“Roll over,” he said. “I want to check your backdoor.”

Rolling onto my belly, I kept one hand in place, still touching and tugging on my puffy clit as Ron parted my asscheeks and began to rub his sturdy, well lubed fingers back and forth. That was almost unreal. The feel of his slightly callused fingertips circling around my asshole was one of the most satisfying sensations I could imagine. I wanted him to put a finger inside me, to thrust it deep into my bottom, and as any good lover should, Ron knew exactly what I needed. With his slicked up fingers, he opened me even wider and then slipped both his pointer and middle finger into my tight asshole.

“Oh, yes,” I sighed. “That feels so amazing.”

“Keep touching yourself, baby,” Ron commanded. “Don’t stop.”

I couldn’t have stopped. The combination of Ron fingering my rosebud and my own hands making magical, flickering circles over my clit had me on the verge of a ferocious orgasm.

“Tell me when you’re close,” my husband said.

My breathing was coming faster now, and I had my eyes clenched shut as I worked for it. My whole body was humming, and Ron began to push harder with his fingers. Then he slid a third one inside me, so I was being manipulated on the inside by both his fingers and my own. He used shallow strokes that tickled and teased, then pushed harder and went in deep.

“I’m close,” I moaned. “So close.” I could almost taste the sweetness of the impending orgasm. It was going to be big, the kind of earth shattering climax you masturbate to memories of later. I could sense it, I just didn’t know exactly when it would come. But with Ron’s fingers fucking my ass and my own making their quick, desperate circles, I knew that it was going to be soon.

Now Ron took charge of the situation. Removing his fingers, he slid me onto my back, then brought my long legs over his muscular thighs and entered my slippery pussy. His steel like cock began a slow, steady ride between my legs, while both he and I continued to work at teasing and pleasing my swollen clit. First my hand and then his, both of our oiled up, dripping fingers slip sliding over that button between my pussy lips, making generous circles, delving and twirling. And all the while Ron was fucking me, his cock reaching insane proportions as he slid deep inside my body.

The wonderful feeling of being filled to the extreme helped me reach my orgasm that, and the warmth of his pulsing prick as it traveled in and out of my dripping pussy, thrusting so deep that I had to catch my breath. The overwhelming sensation of being touched and fucked managed to simply raise the pleasure to another level. My fingers and Ron’s worked simultaneously to help me find and open the door to the other side, and my whole body shook with exquisite contractions.

Like a dream, we came together, in explosive shudders that moved from my body to his and back again, as if we were somehow dancing together, doing a naughty tango that only happens when both partners are well versed in the steps. Then Ron lifted me in his strong arms, holding me and moving me up and down on his cock as the last tremors washed through him.

Staring into his eyes as the waves slowly subsided made the pleasure last even longer, and several moments passed before either of us had the will or the desire to speak. But finally, cradled against his strong chest, I found my voice again. “So did I pass inspection?” I murmured into his ear.

“Of course, baby,” my husband whispered back to me. “But if you don’t mind, I think I’d like to spend a little more time tinkering under the hood.”

Golden Touch

My wife and I are always finding ways to turn each other on, but recently we ve discovered the erotic qualities of massaging each other. The slow, nurturing rubs and light fingertip touches heighten our sensitivity, freeing up desire and allowing us to enjoy our lovemaking to the fullest. We re always discovering new and different ways to enjoy erotic massage, but I ll never forget the first time we tried it.

Erica and I had just returned from a romantic camping trip together. I had known that we would have a great time, and that certainly turned out to be the case. We were like young lovers again, rolling around and giggling in our shared sleeping bag, tickling each other, then making passionate love under the stars. What I did not expect was that we wouldn t discover our greatest sexual pleasure until we got home.

Sleeping on the ground turned out to be pretty hard on my back. That, plus the 300 mile drive home, had left it knotted with tension. After unpacking our gear, Erica and I showered, then relaxed in the living room in our bathrobes. I was enjoying the way the white terry cloth hugged her curves, and how her wet and wavy sandy brown hair flowed down over her shoulders. I thought I had used up all my sexual energy on our camping trip, but judging by the reaction of my cock, I was wrong.

As I sat trying to pay attention to what was on TV, Erica grabbed my shoulders and started rubbing my upper back. She pressed deep into the sore spots, working out the tension. Oh, honey, I moaned, as she shut off the TV and disrobed me, then asked me to lie facedown on the soft carpet.

I ve been looking forward to trying this, she said. Smelling a raspberry fragrance, I glanced back and saw her rubbing some kind of lotion into her hands. She worked the warm lotion into my back, softly gliding her fingertips down my spine. With firm pressure, Erica rubbed the spots that needed the most attention. Under my direction she pressed into them, and I felt my muscles loosen and my desire rise. After each probing rub, she kissed the spot she had just redressed. Kneading her way up my legs, Erica softly stroked the inside of my thigh, then rubbed her moist lips against it. I quivered and felt a chill run through my body.

When she had me roll over onto my back, my cock was standing straight up. She rubbed more of the pungent oil into her hands, and I secretly hoped she would put them on my cock, but Erica had other ideas. As she massaged my shoulder, she nibbled on my ear and whispered, Just relax, my dear.

Kissing a path from my ear over to my lips and down my chest, she nibbled and licked, moving ever closer to my crotch, but not touching my cock. Instead, she caressed the fronts of my legs and teased my inner thighs with feather light touches, her mouth so near to my cock I could feel her hot breath on it. Moaning and rocking my hips, I started to pull her on top of me. She stopped me, whispering, Patience.

Gingerly, Erica licked the pre come off the bulb of my cockhead and kissed her way back up to my chest, then rubbed more oil into my pecs. A warm, tingling sensation welled up inside my chest and spread throughout my body. I was relaxed, yet my blood was pumping with anticipation. Erica kissed me deeply, the taste of raspberries and pre come lingering on her tongue.

Gradually, Erica lowered her pussy onto my cock, and the pleasure flowed throughout my entire body. Grabbing her buttocks in my hands, I slid all the way into her steamy depths and held myself still, quivering slightly. Slowly, I moved in and out, my pace gradually building. She sat up, burying my cock into her to the hilt, and grazed her fingernails down my chest. Erica s face contorted and she let out impassioned groans that increased in intensity until she came. Pulling her against my chest, I spurted my load deep inside her. As our hips slowed, I held her close to me, running my fingers through her still damp hair. As I softened and slipped out of her, we drifted off to sleep in each other s arms.

The next day at work, I couldn t stop thinking about my wife. Here I had been married to her for almost ten years, and I was like a schoolboy with a crush. When I talked to Erica on the phone, I learned that she had planned the whole thing. Knowing how grumpy I get when a camping trip is over and I have to go back to work, she had decided to make our return home special. She had studied books and videotapes on massage and had bought a supply of fragrant massage oils. I d been delighted by the luxurious surprise and decided to find a way to surprise her. I wanted to give Erica as much pleasure as she d given me, but I wanted it to be somehow different.

I did my homework. I watched videos and even got some great ideas from a professional masseuse. By the weekend I was ready. Friday night Erica came home frazzled. I let her settle for a while, then I approached her. Tugging on her arm, I told her to follow me, and I knew that from my grin she could tell something was up. She followed me obediently into the bedroom where I began to slowly undress her.

When she was down to her bra and panties, she kissed me passionately, running her fingers through my hair, and unzipped my trousers. She reached in and grasped my rigid cock, and I was tempted to take her right then and there, but I knew we would enjoy ourselves more if we took our time and delighted in every stroke. I unhooked Erica s bra and slid her panties off, then led her into the bathroom where I d prepared a hot bubble bath in our oversize tub. I quickly undressed and got in with her. Sitting behind her in a spoon position, I cradled her in my arms for a few moments, relishing the feel of her body against mine in the hot, sudsy water.

Lathering up her back, I rubbed her with deep, penetrating strokes then light, tender caresses. I worked my hands up to the nape of her neck, then slid them over her ears. Reaching underneath her, I caressed the backs of her thighs and lifted her up, massaging her taut buttocks, kneading deeply, working out all the tension. When I worked my way into her crack, she let out a sultry gasp. Sitting her in my lap, I reached around with both hands and liberally soaped up her breasts, feeling her little nipples harden into points. She moaned and rocked her hips, pleading for me to take her.

Not yet, I teased, as I worked each hand up her thighs, making my way toward her pussy, but stopping just before I reached it. I lingered there, playfully fondling her, then pressed the head of my cock against the entrance of her cunt. She let out a gasping cry as I gently pressed against the entrance to her pussy while caressing her breasts. Finally, I entered her. Gripping her hips, I pushed all the way in, slid back so that her petals gripped only my swollen knob, then gradually pushed all the way back in again.

Our bodies moved together faster and faster as the water sloshed about us. When I felt myself getting close to the edge, I pressed all the way into her and held myself there, grinding against her ass. Erica cried out and shook in orgasm, and a few strokes later I exploded into her. We held each other for a while in the warm water, then got out and dried each other off with soft towels. Still damp and basking in the afterglow of our orgasms, we snuggled up together in bed and drifted off to sleep.

Over the next several months, Erica and I luxuriated in long oil rubs and satisfying bathtub sessions. We got really good at pleasing each other with massage, and no single lovemaking session was exactly the same. Just when we thought we had tried it all, we found something new to further ignite our growing passion.

I came home from work one evening after an extremely busy day. By then I had stopped taking such stressful days too seriously because I knew they led to long, sensual rubdowns, and that was exactly what I was looking forward to when I got home. After a hot shower, I plopped facedown, naked, onto our king size bed, as a less than subtle hint to Erica. She didn t disappoint me, picking up the cue immediately. Straddling me, she began rubbing warm oil into my neck, shoulders and back. I moaned, enjoying the deep relaxation and letting go the cares of the day.

Then I heard a melodic humming. Turning around, I saw my wife strapping an oval shaped vibrator to the back of each of her hands, the sound reminding me of one of her vibrating dildos. The hum brought back sweet memories of Erica s eyes pinched shut as she moaned in ecstasy.

That sound alone was enough to stir my arousal. Erica slowly pressed her vibrating fingers down my neck and shoulders, letting the pulsation penetrate into my tired muscles. She did the same to my back, moving slowly down to my butt. As she pressed her fingers deep into my asscheeks, I felt the vibrations flow through me, arousing me, stiffening my cock.

With oily hands, Erica kneaded her way up and down the backs of my tired legs, then made me spread them so she could reach my inner thighs. When she grazed my sensitive balls, the vibrations evoked a shudder and my cock grew even stiffer. With a slight nudge, Erica told me to roll over onto my back. When I did, she kissed me hard, then oiled up my chest, alternating between massaging it deeply and lightly teasing my erect nipples with her playful fingers.

Those light fingertips vibrating on my supersensitive nipples made goose bumps break out all over my skin. Sliding her fingers over my abdomen all the way to the base of my cock, she began teasing me there. When her vibrating fingers touched the underside of my shaft, I shuddered, my hips bucking involuntarily. She held my cock in her warm, oily hands, sliding up and down as I writhed in euphoric abandon. Suddenly, with a final gasp, I came, spattering my belly with semen. Sighing as I came down, I decided to return my wife s favor.

I pulled off her bathrobe and asked her to lie facedown on the bed. Not one to argue, she quickly made herself comfortable as I relished the sight of her curvaceous figure, especially her shapely derriere. Scooping some of the come off my belly, I used it as a salve to knead my wife s asscheeks. I rubbed it all down her rear and over her pussy as she whimpered her satisfaction. I doused my hands in warm oil and pressed them into her flesh, probing and pressing, loosening up her muscles.

After I had worked all up and down her back and legs, I strapped the vibrators to the backs of my hands and repeated the same motions. When I pressed my vibrating hands onto Erica s ass, she trembled and moaned as I slid my fingers over her cheeks and between her thighs. Easing her over onto her back, I cupped her breasts, pressing the vibrations into them. She arched her back, increasing the sensations in her breasts. Dragging my fingers down her body, I slid a hand over her pussy, letting the vibration penetrate that most sensitive spot. She squirmed, growing even wetter.

Gliding my finger over her pussy lips, I then teased around her clit, circling but not touching it. When I grazed her love button for just a second, she gasped, and I could feel her body tense. I pressed my recharged cock against her vulva and gripped my shaft, allowing the vibrations to flow through me and into her.

The sounds of pleasure rang throughout the bedroom as I finally slid my cock into her ready pussy. I began thrusting, and it was only a few moments before her moans grew louder and she cried out with release. As I continued pumping into her, she unstrapped the vibrators from my hands and pressed them against my ass. The pulsing at my ass traveled straight through to my cock, and almost immediately I was erupting inside her. We held each other while I softened and slipped out of her, both of us exhausted but thoroughly satisfied.

One lazy Saturday was the first day we had both had off in weeks. Erica and I were feeling in the mood, but we were out of massage oil. I took my wife s hand to lead her into the bathroom for a hot bath and a soapy rubdown, but she had a different idea. She led me into the bedroom and had my lie facedown on the massage table we d bought, then disappeared. We generally used oil in our sessions because we found that it added to the experience, so as I waited for her return, I wondered what she would come up with.

When Erica returned she had a bottle of talcum powder with her. She shook some out on my back and started softly gliding it over my skin with her fingertips, her teasing touch feather light. She spread the soft powder all down my neck, my back, my butt and my legs, leaving a path of goose bumps.

Erica suggested we move over to the bed, where I lay on my back as she straddled my legs. She smoothed the talc onto my front, and I luxuriated in its coolness and sensual aroma. She slid her powder laced fingers through the hair on my chest and tickled my nipples. Gliding her soft fingers through my pubic jungle, she teased my engorged cock by sliding over each side of it ever so delicately, then squeezed my balls as I rocked my hips with yearning. Erica rubbed her pussy lips against the underside of my shaft and tantalized my chest again. I groaned and rubbed talc onto my hands, then palmed her breasts, feeling her nipples harden. My cockhead touched the warm entrance to her pussy, and she teased me by not letting me push in all the way. She glided her powdery fingertips down my face and neck and circled around my nipples. I followed her lead and did the same to her, feeling her pussy grow wetter against my cock.

We kissed, our tongues passionately intertwining, while I slid my hands down her spine and over her butt, rubbing the talc over her anus. She let out a guttural groan as I gently eased myself into her inviting pussy, thrusting my hips. I lost myself in the rhythmic passion, my tempo accelerating as I forgot whom or where I was. My wife s fingers were clinging to my shoulders as her body began to tense in erotic delight. Finally she let out a long, throaty gasp as her body shook in glorious orgasm, the same moment that I lost control, spurting my come inside her, shuddering as the waves pulsed through me. We melted together in the aftermath and cuddled for hours.

Erotic massage was a wonderful discovery. It has been the perfect vehicle for us to express our love for each other. It has brought our sexual life to heights we d never before experienced. I look forward to more passionate exploration into this beautiful realm of eroticism.

At Our Fingertips

Wouldn’t you say most wives are unhappy when their husbands bring work home with them? Not me. I actually beg my husband to do just that. That’s because Matthew is a masseur. He has magic fingers, and when I’m the one on his table, Matthew puts those fingers to good use. He could write a manual on how to make my body hum. He knows just how to touch me, kneading my body to release the knots of stress that build up in my shoulders, back and neck. His powerful hands are large and warm, and he strokes them over me using the perfect amount of pressure. Of course, our private massages are a little different from the ones he gives at work.

Last Friday evening, I arrived home feeling as tightly wound as a coiled spring. Entertainment law can be exciting, but sometimes the stressful effects of my job can linger for hours. Luckily, Matthew was ready for me when I walked through the door. His massage table stood in the center of the living room, and the lights were dim. Twisted ivory candles decorated the mantle and coffee table, and the room flickered with golden light.

“Don’t say anything, René e,” he murmured, coming toward me and helping me out of my coat. “Just get naked and climb on the table.”

I stared at him for a minute. He had on worn Levi’s and no shirt. The jeans hugged his powerful body to perfection, and when he turned to lift the sheet on the table, I could see his amazing ass clad in denim. All thoughts of work disappeared and I was left with a powerful urge to trace my hands over his buns and squeeze them, then slide his jeans down his body and lick his ass with my tongue.

“Matthew,” I started, about to voice my request, but as he turned to face me, I immediately fixated on a different body part. His muscular chest is finely cut, and I reached forward to trail my fingers along his flat stomach to his waistband. This was where I wanted to lick, in one long line down his taut stomach to his cock. I could guess that it was already hard, and I knew just what it would feel like pushing through my red glossed lips to pound against the back of my throat.

Maybe I just needed a quick fuck to get out some of my aggression. Matthew seemed to read my mind, because he shook his head.

“On the table, René e,” he repeated. “I’m going to take care of you.” I liked the way that sounded, and I quickly slid out of my shirt and skirt, kicked off my high heels and pulled down my stockings. Wearing my black satin lingerie, I took one hesitant step toward him.

“Take it all off,” Matthew said, but before I could, he dropped the sheet and moved forward to assist. He stood behind me, and I watched in the mirror over the mantle as his hands stroked my dark hair away from my face. My hair is long, flecked with gold and red, and in the candlelight it looked as though it held filaments of fire. Matthew pulled it back from my shoulders and then tied it into a loose knot at the nape of my neck. When he kissed the spot now revealed from behind my curtain of curls, the feel of his lips brushing against my skin sent shivers throughout my body.

Next, he unfastened my bra and slipped it off me. For a second, he reached around and cupped my breasts in his hands, holding them gently, as if he were cradling two pieces of ripe fruit. His thumbs brushed against my nipples, which grew instantly erect. Just that one tender touch made me suck in my breath, and I fantasized that he might take me from behind, simply undo his fly and slide his thick cock deep inside me.

He didn’t, and I could tell he was going to make me wait. I stood still as Matthew pulled down my panties so that I could step out of them. I was already wet, my juices coating my nether lips, and I wondered whether he could sense my arousal. Apparently he could, because even though he’d been insistent that we not have sex yet, he lifted me and placed me in a sitting position on the edge of the massage table.

“I’m not going to fuck you yet,” he said, “but I will let you come, just once, as an appetizer before the main course.”

Gratefully, I leaned back on my hands as Matthew spread my shaved pussy lips and gently pinched my clit between his thumb and forefinger. I felt as if I would melt into a puddle of the sweet almond oil he uses for his massages. All of my tension began to fade as he rubbed in slow circles up and around my clit, not touching it directly, but teasing me in the most delicious manner possible. He didn’t put his fingers inside me not yet but he traced the outline of my silky slit until my hips jerked forward uncontrollably, silently begging for more. The light from the candles decorated our skin in dark, twisting shadows, and I felt as if I had entered some make believe place where fantasies come true.

“Do you like that, René e?” Matthew asked, his voice low and husky.

“Yes,” I said, my word more of a sigh than a response. “Yes, I like that.”

“Do you like this?” he asked, now sliding one finger into my pussy.

“Oh, yes,” I told him. “Fuck my cunt with your finger.”

“Just one?” He slid a second digit in to join the first before I could answer.

The sensations inside me were so strong that my arms threatened to buckle. I wanted to come, desperately, but Matthew kept me teetering on the edge. He stroked me delicately, then a little bit harder. He made circles that grew smaller and smaller, focusing on the bull’s eye of my clit without actually touching it. Finally, after teasing me for several minutes, Matthew moved his mouth closer to my pussy. I could feel his hot breath just before he tapped my clit with his tongue. He is an expert masseur, knows just how hard to touch, how soft to stroke, and he employed this same knowledge in the manner that he went down on me. A soft lick. A hard swirl. Everything in perfect rhythm.

The only thing missing from the action was his cock. I wanted desperately for him to climb on top of me in a sixty nine, letting me drain the come out of his hard cock while he continued to wriggle his tongue against my cunt.

“Please,” I said, about to suggest a new position to him, but he silenced me with a look.

“Shh, baby,” he said. “Tonight I’m setting the routine. You just relax.”

Oh, so very sweet that sounded so sweet. Putting myself into his hands was delicious, so I followed his orders exactly. I closed my eyes and let the soft caress of his tongue work its dreamy magic on my body. Relaxing, I felt no pressure to do anything and so remained on the verge of climax, lost in the feeling of almost reaching the finish line. Matthew moved his head back and forth so that his dark hair tickled the insides of my thighs, and I groaned and ground my pussy hard against his mouth.

As soon as I did that, Matthew slipped his tongue inside me. It was as if he’d been waiting for my body to tell him when, and now he thrust it as deep as it could reach into my cunt. His tongue moved and danced inside me, flicking back and forth to tease and tickle. This was all I needed to come the feel of his tongue as it traced designs on my sugar walls. I sat up on the edge of the table, gripping his bare shoulders with my hands and driving my pussy as hard as I could against his face. I held him to me with my legs scissored around him, but that wasn’t necessary. He didn’t stop until the powerful waves had crashed through me and then slowly ebbed away, leaving me limp and relaxed.

Matthew then untangled himself from me and spread me out, faceup, on the table. This next part of the evening was dedicated to a real massage, his fingers soothing my body all over, from the top of my head to the soles of my feet. His touch during this portion of the massage wasn’t at all sexual. He remained professional or as professional as he could be with my taste lingering on his lips working the muscles in my arms and legs, easing any remnants of tension from my shoulders.

After putting me into a happy daze, he had me roll onto my stomach, then adjusted the sheet so that it draped over my body. Again, he started at the top of the table, running the flat of his hands down my back toward my waist. I closed my eyes as his fingertips worked the groove on either side of my spine, but I opened them again when his hands disappeared under the sheet, cradling my rear.

Then his thumb brushed between my asscheeks. It was just the slightest feathery touch, leaving me wondering whether he’d meant to do it in the first place, because now he was working down my slender thighs to the bottoms of my feet, as if he’d never touched my derriere at all. I closed my eyes again, feeling him moving his way up my body, one hand on the back of each leg, running under the sheet to cup my ass again.

This time it was definite, his thumb making contact with my rosebud as he ran his fingers over my bottom. But he didn’t linger there, simply moved up my back again, working his way to the wings of my shoulder blades and staying there until I’d forgotten that touch.

As soon as I went limp in his hands again, Matthew moved to the side of the table to focus on the middle of my body, sliding one side of the sheet up as he kneaded the muscles of my ass. This wasn’t anything unusual: He always massages my bottom and says that plenty of people have tension in their rears. But wasn’t he working it a little harder than usual? And every third time his palm made a rotation, his fingers seemed to find their way into the split and trail along between my cheeks.

After several of these teasing, almost accidental strokes, I began longing for him to touch me there. I imagined what it would feel like if he spread my cheeks wide apart, poured almond oil down my crack, then massaged his fingers inside me. I kept my mouth shut because he’d told me to put myself in his hands, yet what I wanted those hands to do was making me wet at the mere thought. Matthew acted as if he didn’t know what was going on, simply kneading my right asscheek and pretending that this was just a normal massage. Nothing fancy. Nothing erotic.

But soon, at each circling stroke, his fingers found my rear entry, and then he was holding my cheeks apart, spreading them wide just as I’d hoped he would. I sucked in my breath as the almond oil dripped down my split, and moaned as Matthew’s fingers massaged it in. He took his time, rubbing the oil slowly around the rim of my asshole before finally sliding one finger inside me.

I thought I would come on the spot and raised my hips off the table, helping him. He gave my ass a playful swat for that, reminding me, “Just relax, René e, I’m in control. You let me do the work or I’ll stop.”

He couldn’t stop I wouldn’t have been able to handle it. So I held myself in check as he continued, finger probing, hands kneading. I wanted him to put another finger inside me, wanted him to fuck my ass, but I bit my lip and kept my request to myself. He would take care of me, I knew.

Still, he made me wait for it. He worked just that one finger within me, stroking my insides gently with it, then used his thumb to flick against my clit and make me moan.

“That’s right,” Matthew said softly, “let it out.”

Being able to make noise was such a release. I closed my eyes and sighed each time he pushed his finger in farther. Then, just as I’d imagined, he slid a second finger in to work with the first. This was sublime, the feeling of his two digits probing my rear opening, stroking gently but firmly as he manually fucked my ass. The juices from my pussy started dripping down my thighs, and I shifted my hips on the table, unable to control my movements. I was quickly making a puddle beneath me, but I didn’t care. Matthew gave my clit another little flick with his thumb before removing his hand from my bottom. My unhappy sigh won me another admonishment.

“Trust me,” Matthew said, “I won’t let you down.” A second later I felt his warm breath against my rear and then his tongue as it traced slowly around the rim of my asshole. The soft wetness of his gentle lapping soon had me begging for him to push it in farther. I knew I’d come if he’d touch my clit just once. That was all I needed. A tiny flick of his tongue would push me over the edge.

No such luck. Matthew wanted this evening to last, and that meant stretching my climax out until I could almost taste it taut and fine and shuddering. Finally, he maneuvered me so that I was lying across the table on my stomach, my ass toward him, hands draped over the other side. I heard the sound of his zipper opening, then felt his cock pressing against my rear. He set it against my skin for a moment, letting me feel its length. The tip was already dripping pre come and he used it as a lubricant, spreading my cheeks again and placing his erection just at the opening of my ass.

The tip of his cock slowly opened my anal passage as Matthew slid the head inside me. I sucked in my breath. This was a totally different experience from having his fingers in me. His cock is at least as thick as four of his fingers, and it stretched me as he slid in deeper, in the most decadent manner possible. It was as if I were being massaged on the inside, Matthew using his cock as another means to dissolve the tension within me.

He pushed in deeper and I moaned. I didn’t think he would be able to get the whole length inside me, but then I felt his balls pressed against my bottom. He didn’t move for a moment but stayed joined with me, his body still and quiet. His cock had its own plan, however, throbbing within the tight confines of my asshole. It bounced against my velvety walls, and I moaned again.

During this ride, his cock slid back and forth, but never entirely out. He pushed it in until I could feel his balls slap against me, then pulled back and just let the mushroom head dance within my opening. I couldn’t decide what I liked best the throbbing pulse as he went in deep, or the feeling of being stretched wide as he rocked the head back and forth. Luckily, Matthew was giving me both, tricking me into expecting the length of his cock when he only gave me the head, preparing me for the sensation of being stretched to the fullest and then giving me the shaft.

“Please,” I said, not sure exactly what I was asking for, yet knowing that I needed something some other thing to reach the top. Matthew, of course, knew exactly what I wanted.

“I like when you beg,” he said softly, reaching one hand under my waist and pressing his fingertips to my clit as he began to fuck me in earnest. That was all I needed. I came as his fingers strummed me, my body vibrating all over from the powerful contractions. My climax set off Matthew’s, and he used both hands to grip me around my waist, pulling me back to impale me on his cock as his white river shot deep into my ass.

Afterward, Matthew wrapped me in his arms and pulled me down on the floor with him. His fingers continued to play lightly over my body, tracing designs around my breasts and down the flat of my belly. Every inch of my skin seemed to sing in response to his touch, awakening with pleasure. Ready again for another go around, under the expert touch of my husband’s magical hands.

Touched By Love

The first week Mary and I worked together, I decided that she was stuck up. Transferred from our more cosmopolitan Atlanta office into the same Savannah brokerage house at which I had worked for four years, she came in complaining about both the city and the cramped office space at our branch. For a year we barely spoke, her brusque manner turning me cold, my coldness coming across as boring to her.

Despite this lack of understanding between us, I found my eyes wandering in her direction whenever she walked near. Her petite frame supported a voluptuous, soft figure with a pretty rear view. A brunette, she changed her hairstyle every month or so, adding to her an intrigue. She also heightened my interest by the way she would dress provocatively in an above the knee tight skirt with spaghetti strap high heels one day and a conservative business suit with flats the next.

I caught her looking my way a few times, and it was this slow realization of mutual attraction that led us at first to be civil and then friendly toward one another. We started sharing coffee breaks and an occasional lunch together. Gradually, we became friends based on our mutual interests and growing respect for one another. We would do small things for one another, such as give impromptu shoulders rubs in the office when one or the other was looking particularly tired.

I realized that the behavior I had judged as bitchy was merely a cover for her shyness and for her feeling uncomfortable as the new kid on the block. She realized that what she had thought of as boring was, in fact, my quiet confidence, and that I had an irreverent sense of humor that matched her own, giving us endless laughs at our bosses expense.

She began inviting me over to her place for dinner occasionally, and we both enjoyed the company, the food and the view of the tidal marsh from the large patio of her upscale apartment complex.

One friday morning Mary returned to the office from an investment seminar she had conducted at a local business site. She had been holding these seminars at different offices all week long and looked haggard. Walking by my desk, she stopped and asked, Will you come over tonight, Bill? I am so stressed out right now I could really use a friend.

Sure, I responded with a smile. I ll bring the wine.

After dinner we ended up talking on the couch, each nursing our second glass of zinfandel. I was feeling pleasantly aroused and soon became inflamed by Mary s posture. This had been a short skirt day, and her legs, encased in black stockings, were drawn up under her. I let myself imagine that Mary was a garter belt woman rather than a pantyhose one. My eyes couldn t help but wander to the bits of exposed thigh, knee and calf, as well as the soft, gentle swell of her hips. Her high heels were casually tossed to the floor, fueling my desire for her.

I have always been struck by how bare or stockinged feet can be such a potent symbol of nakedness. On a beach, one doesn t think twice about women dancing around barefoot. Yet, let a businesswoman kick off her shoes, and your thoughts instantly become focused on this normally dressed, now naked portion of her anatomy. Mary s shoes having been cast aside for the first time in my presence thus seemed a symbol both of her casual comfort with me and of my simmering desire for her.

These seminars are killing me, Mary told me. I ve been on my feet all week and after spending a year behind a desk, I m just not used to it.

Well, I have been known to give a good foot rub, I said, looking her directly in the eye. Would she know that I wanted this to merely be a prelude to the time I could ravish her? An erection grew almost instantly inside my khakis.

Mary s eyes caught mine surprisingly fast, one Vivian Leigh like eyebrow raised quizzically. She blushed slightly, and I continued to press home my point as both my boldness and lust grew.

You know, reflexologists say that the way to cure all ills is through the feet, and besides, it will feel good. Come on, I encouraged her, swing around and put your feet in my lap.

Hesitating only briefly, Mary unfurled her legs and let her deliciously dainty feet fall into my lap. I quickly drank in the sight of her shapely legs, a pleasure made easier by the way her skirt had hiked up slightly, and I told her to lie back with her head on the arm cushion. Placing a hand around each foot, I squeezed her insteps with a firm, steady pressure and was rewarded by a soft moan from her lips. As I continued massaging, the back of her left hand moved to her forehead as she surrendered to the pleasure she was feeling, while her legs made a slow, small bicycling motion. My only concern was that her heels not move too close to my maddeningly close erection.

After about ten minutes of soft squeezes, heel of the hand slides up her instep, toe twirls and thumb slides, she was in heaven and said to me, Oh, Bill, this is so good of you. I m feeling so relaxed right now.

Do you have any lotion? It will feel even better with some lubrication.

But my stockings . . .

Change into shorts and I ll massage your legs, too. It ll help those achy calves of yours.

The pleasure I had given her and the trust I had earned after months of friendship overcame any feelings of doubt arising from modesty. Despite her proper Atlanta upbringing, the more relaxed mores of Savannah had at last insinuated themselves and affected her as strongly as any native.

It was a warm summer evening and the sun had just set, letting the moon cast its magic over the marsh. The living room was awash with soft lamplight and the air conditioner was running.

Mary returned from the bedroom dressed in white tennis shorts and a loose white t shirt. She smiled at me as she walked into the kitchen, and I noticed that her rounded backside lifted the rear leg opening of her shorts away from her thighs, giving me a tantalizing peek at the curved fullness of her rear end. I didn t think my penis could get any harder.

She returned from the kitchen with a squeeze bottle of hand lotion and asked, Where should I sit?

Lie on the couch, on your stomach, I replied, and she lay down, placing her head on a small pillow.

I knelt down next to the couch facing her and took her right leg, bending it at the knee. Cradling her calf in the crook of my elbow and letting the heel of her foot rest on my shoulder, I took the lotion, emptied a generous amount into the palms of my hands, then rubbed them together to warm the lotion. Grasping her foot with both hands, I spread the lotion over it in a slow, gliding movement starting at her toes and working toward her heel. Mary groaned with pleasure as my hands slid over her smooth skin, and as her toes curled, I delighted in the sight of the wrinkles that formed on the sole of her foot.

I continued down her calf, the lotion giving it a smooth sheen. Her legs, a light peach color, silky smooth and round in just the right places, captivated me. A small razor nick below her knee showed me that this goddess was human after all. Using both hands, I rubbed in a circular motion around her calf, occasionally letting one hand slide back up to squeeze the top of her foot.

Mary started making slow, sensuous gyrations, and I knew she was getting as turned on as I was. She buried her face in the pillow and seemed to be using the couch cushions to try to apply some pressure to her pubis. Her legs were spread slightly, and I had a pleasing look at the fabric of her shorts as they tugged on the insides of her thighs, disappearing into that region I so ached for.

After about ten minutes, I repeated the process on her left leg. I drifted into a state of sexual frenzy as I leaned over her right leg and smelled her fragrant skin and brushed against her smooth legs. She had become even more abandoned with her erotic wriggling against the cushions when, abruptly, she stopped.

Pushing herself up and extricating herself from my arms she sat straight up, her hair disheveled and her face flushed. Seemingly embarrassed, she said, I . . . I ll be right back, and headed off for the bathroom. Not quite sure what had happened, but suspecting things had gone too far too fast, I went into the kitchen and washed the lotion from my hands.

Mary returned in about five minutes, walked straight toward me and gave me a friendly but noncommittal hug. Thank you, Bill. That felt wonderful you sure know how to relieve stress in a girl. But I m feeling kind of tired, and I think I should go to bed.

There was not much I could say, but she read the disappointment in my eyes. I had worked myself up into a sexual state of no return and was sure I had done the same to her, yet here I was being asked to leave. Glad I could help, I meekly replied, while managing a smile. You rest up.

With that, she saw me to the door and I stepped out, saying good bye. Bill, she said, and as I turned around she stepped up on her tiptoes, threw her arms around my neck and gave me a deep, lingering kiss.

Goodnight, she whispered, and I replied the same, slightly dazed.

I figured that would be the last we would see of each other until work on Monday, but early Saturday afternoon Mary called. Bill, I m sorry I was so abrupt last night, but I got a little confused. Can you come over? It is so beautiful out, and the pool isn t very crowded. We could go swimming.

So she just wanted to remain friends. That was okay with me, since I valued her friendship, no matter how badly I wanted to make love to her. It still wasn t out of the question, though it might have to be on her timetable.

I arrived at Mary s apartment an hour later. I was wearing navy shorts, a pull over shirt and deck shoes, and carried my swimsuit in a bag with my towel. Mary answered the door wearing a lightweight terry cloth robe, and it was open to reveal a stunning, incredibly revealing black bikini. My erection from the night before returned.

Just like last night, Mary threw her arms around my neck and gave me a long, deep kiss. My senses were bombarded by the fresh, just washed smell of the terry cloth, the feel of her pressed up against me with her bare leg just brushing mine, and the knowledge of her semi nakedness. She released me and looked directly into my eyes with a look of smoldering passion.

Instead of going swimming now, why don t we save that for later? I would like to pay you back for how wonderful you were to me last night. Taking me by the hand she led me to the living room. She had moved the coffee table to the side of the room and had placed the couch cushions on the floor. Over them, she had put a sheet, and there was a bottle of oil warming over a candle. Go change, Mary urged.

I went to the bathroom to change into my swimsuit, not able to believe my luck. I knew that this massage would be about sensuality and lovemaking. Just the thought of having that heavenly creature attending to me so gently, with what I knew would be soft, insistent hands, had me in a state of rut that I had not known during my adult life.

So, Bill, you ve been keeping that body of yours in terrific shape, Mary told me as I reentered the room, making me glad I had kept up with my workouts. Come over here and lie down on your stomach so that I can see if your back is as muscular as your front.

As I lay down on the cushions, I watched Mary take off her robe and put it aside. I drank in the sight of this woman I desired so desperately. My imagination had not done her justice the seemingly flawless skin of her legs that I had noticed last night extended across her entire body and had a healthy, peachy glow about it. Her large, rounded breasts, all but the nipples visible under the bikini top, gave way to a flat, feminine belly and narrow waist. Her hips flared out slightly, supporting a rump that mirrored the roundness of her breasts, and all this loveliness rested on those shapely and silky legs.

Mary knelt down beside me and, pouring some of the oil onto her hands, leaned over and spread it across my back in broad, firm strokes. The feel of her small hands working on my back suffused me with a deep feeling of pleasure. All negative tension melted away in a matter of seconds, even as the sexual tension increased.

She used her whole body to support the motion of her hands across my back and shoulders. Sometimes she would bring her face down next to her hands as they glided across me, and I could feel her warm breath, a gentle zephyr across my back. Outside, I could hear the sounds of a warm southern summer afternoon: the insect chirps, the bird calls, the distance muffled sound of an outboard motor. Inside, I heard only our gentle, rhythmic breathing and the quiet hum of the air conditioner. The peacefulness assaulted my senses.

Mary studiously avoided the areas of my body covered by my swimsuit, but continued down the backs of my legs to my feet, giving me the same exquisite sensation I knew I had given her the previous evening. Shortly, she bent over to whisper in my ear, Roll over.

Mary was a vision of loveliness as she knelt by me, smiling down at the bulge in front of my suit. Her arms went behind her back and the top of her suit slid off her, revealing her round, mature breasts in all their glory. Silently, she straddled my left leg and grabbed the waistband of my trunks, tugging them down as I gladly lifted my hips to help. She kept her eyes trained on my fully erect penis as she pulled the swimsuit free of my feet and tossed it aside. An oil soaked finger traveled to the root of my penis and slowly traced the underseam toward the head.

I don t know how, but when she did that, more blood rushed into my now aching, throbbing cock and caused it to bounce up and down as I lifted my hips in a frantic plea for more stimulation. She just smiled and put that same finger to her lips and quietly said, Shhh, while she picked up the oil bottle with her other hand.

Tilting the bottle from a height of a foot above my chest, she poured the warm oil onto my breastbone, until it was spilling down my ribcage in little trickling rivers. Mary placed the bottle back down and spread the oil evenly across my chest. I wanted to enter her desperately, but Mary was controlling the pace, seemingly intent on drawing every ounce of pleasure possible out of our first sexual encounter. As skillfully as she had aroused me, I had no objection.

Finally, she elevated our passion to another level by bringing her chest down against mine. I relished the delicious weight of her breasts on me and the way she slid around on my chest in a back and forth motion. Her hair fell against my face, and the smell of it and the oil commingled. My hungry cock began seeking much needed relief against her thighs as our oil slicked bodies rubbed together. Grab my bottoms and hold them in place, she whispered to me.

As I held on to her bikini bottoms, she wriggled her way out of them, letting first her breasts then her stomach make their slippery journey across my face. I didn t mind the taste of the oil as I licked as much of her as I could get my tongue on. At about the same time I realized she had extricated herself from the bikini and was straddling my face, and as she knelt upright with her thighs hugging my ears, she cupped her hands around the back of my head, lifting my face toward her soaking wet pussy, crying out breathlessly, Eat me!

I did not need the prodding, however, and was already eagerly lapping up her flowing juices and letting my tongue dart, probe and flick around the pliable flesh of her vaginal lips. She soon lost all composure and began moaning in an animalistic fashion. As she approached her orgasm, she suddenly broke free, turned around and again lowered herself onto my face, seemingly trying to screw her pussy onto my mouth.

Taking more oil, she stroked the full shaft of my penis with both hands as she cried out louder and louder. My hips were thrusting upward to meet the sheath her fists formed. In a matter of minutes, she yelled out, Oh, God! and exploded with her orgasm, collapsing on top of me with her face by my penis.

My throbbing organ danced against the side of her face, bringing her out of her erotic reverie. Smiling wickedly, she turned around once again and lowered herself onto my cock, shocking me with the warm tightness of her vagina. While she vigorously raised herself up and down on top of me, I came quickly and powerfully, almost passing out with pleasure.

Mary and I continue to use sensual massage to heighten our lovemaking. We have become so proficient at it that it is hard for us to touch each other in even the most nonsexual way without becoming aroused. The best part, however, is that Mary now looks forward to conducting those long seminars and coming home with aching feet.