Make Me Cum - Nothing ElsebyCatmoore©
Recounting these events ended up with a much bigger story than I envisaged. I apologise to those who do like multi-part stories for this has turned into one.
I promise that I will publish the parts in quick succession, but if you can't wait mail me and I might send the next part.
As the hand slid up the inside of the forty four year old woman's thigh she felt shock waves roar through her, nearly naked, body. As it moved relentlessly, it seemed, nearer to her sex her mind was entertaining the most deliciously rude thoughts. As it slithered along that sensitive skin near to the top of her inner thigh part of her was willing it to go further, willing it not to stop and willing those strong fingers to keep going and plunge into her. Part of her mind, befuddled by the sensations, was willing them to invade her. Yes she was willing the younger man to shove those fingers right up her cunt.
As the twenty six year old Australian man looked at the lithe body of the woman he felt those disturbing sensations. As his hand slid up her thigh his fingers felt a reaction, a tensing in her muscles perhaps? He knew that he may have been imagining it, but he thought he heard a low gasp, almost a moan? Had she screwed her eyes even more tightly shut? Had her legs opened slightly? Was she feeling the same as him? Was she becoming aroused by his touch?
It wasn't that unusual a reaction for him, but rarely had he reacted quite like he was now. 'It must be the age thing' he thought looking down at the nicely formed body. Women of Missus Moor's age were in their prime he thought, but their prime doesn't last that long. Four or five years in the early to mid-forties where they are able to fight the flab, stop the sag, control the cellulite and hold back time. But then the roof falls in he thought. Then everything drops and instead of being an object of mystery younger men many or most become undesirable. But during that prime period they have such a strong appeal and are such an enormous attraction to many men that they are prepared to do mostly anything and take ridiculous risks to sample sex with and older woman. And Andrew, or Drew as he preferred, Penrose was no exception.
It was the third time that Catherine, or Cat as most of her friends called her, had visited the physiotherapist for treatment on the muscle in her lower back that she had strained playing tennis. The third time she'd lain on the table naked apart from her panties and the towels he had placed discretely over her body. Each time she'd had these feelings although initially they were hardly noticeable. During the first massage her mind had only briefly dwelled on the slightly erotic nature of the situation; just as it had when she'd been to luxurious spas in Greece, Thailand and Italy on holiday and in America when she had been on business trips with Richard, her husband. The second time the feelings had been more powerful and now, this time, they were becoming intense, almost unbearable. 'Was it her or him' she wondered? 'Maybe it's as I get older' she rationalised very aware that the sex in her twenty plus years marriage was on the wane and that she was generally frustrated.
But she knew she was being ridiculous. She acknowledged that she was fairly imaginative, but then she had to be, after all, she had been a writer and editor on and off for many years. She was quite used to her mind taking flights of fancy so, as she'd laid on the table the first two times, her full, naked breasts squashed against it, she hadn't been that surprised at her thoughts. After all he was a handsome, well-built young man that any women would find attractive so, lying on his table nearly naked, his hands gliding over her oiled body played to her innovative mind. But the more sensible part of her mind had brought her back to realism. It had told her not to be silly. It was against all the ethics of his profession and he was probably so used to seeing nearly naked females that they wouldn't affect him, it told her. On top of that she was old enough to be his mother. In any case she was a respectable married woman and a mother of two, not prone to seeking sex outside her marriage. But she didn't kid herself that the thought of another affair or a fling with younger man hadn't crossed her mind and didn't have a certain appeal. So she accepted that the thoughts would happen, acknowledged the reasoning behind them, but recognised them for what they were, flights of her overactive fancy
Drew had moved to the UK just over a year ago after completing his physiotherapy course at Melbourne Medical School. He'd been fairly lucky to land the job with this practice based in St Albans, just to the north of London and had done well since being there. He was gradually building up his own clients, got on well with the other people in the practice, did his job really well and was becoming a valued member of the team. He loved the job and the buzz he got from his physiotherapy work. Helping people recover from operations and curing them from their muscular and other aches and pains was rewarding and stimulating for him. But he'd become a little worried at the feelings he had from time to time when he worked on a particularly attractive woman. It was against everything he'd been taught. He'd been educated to look on them as an object, a medical problem and a challenge to his knowledge and skill. He'd been told of the dangers. The temptations. The women and men who were around who might want more than merely medical treatment. The lecturer on ethics had advised that they were few and far between but certainly existed and it was probable that some time in each of the student's early career they would meet one. It was then that all of a physio's self-control was needed. So far he'd had that self-control and had only come across one woman who "offered" and one guy who had got an erection and had asked for a hand-job. He had easily evaded involvement with both of them. It wasn't women or men coming on to him that was proving to be his problem for what Drew experienced was far worse. He was finding himself tempted by women who weren't suggesting more, who in fact were suggesting nothing at all. And he was aware that if he tried anything it could be an arrestable offence and one that would for certain lose him his license.
Cat had hurt her back playing tennis and after almost a week of it not getting any better she'd made an appointment at the physiotherapist. After checking in meeting Drew and explaining the problem to him she'd been taken to a changing cubicle by a receptionist who'd told her to undress and slip on the toweling robe.
"Panties on or off?" she mused as she stood before a mirror dressed just in them. Looking at herself she realised that unthinkingly she'd worn a thong, as she usually did under tight trousers. Smiling to herself she thought, "I wonder what he'll think of that?" She kept them on and slipping into the robe walked into the treatment room as she'd been instructed to do.
"OK Catherine, could you lay on your front on the table please and undo the tie on the robe?" Drew asked in his Aussie brogue.
Laying flat she felt him pulling the robe down her back until it was bunched around her waist. His hands prodded and probed around her lower back for some time. Drew quickly identified the problem as being one of the group of muscles near to the base of her spine having been stretched.
"Ok that's fine," he said. "Put the robe back on and sit up if you would please?"
He was making notes on her record card standing quite close to where her knees stuck out from the edge of the table. Cat couldn't help thinking how dashing he looked in his tight, white, short-sleeved tunic and dark blue track pants. He explained the problem and told her that she'd need some faradic and ultra sound treatment and that she'd probably need three sessions.
"So if that's OK?" he smiled. "We can start."
The electronic treatment over Drew came back into the room and, after asking how it felt, said that they'd finish off with a massage.
"As the muscle that's stretched affects both your back and legs we'll need to massage both areas," he explained looking deep into her eyes.
"Sure no problem," Cat replied.
"OK well you'll need to undo the robe again and lay on your front" he explained.
She did as he asked and laid there the gown open her bare breasts pressed firmly against the table. Drew took hold of the gown and lifted it away from Cat before draping a towel across her bottom. As he did
that he couldn't help seeing that she was wearing a thong. The sight of the flimsy slither of white lace snaking between the wonderfully rounded orbs of her bottom hit him and immediately he felt that surge of excitement that he knew he had to control. He quickly obliterated the view by covering her bottom with the towel and turning away to get the oil. But he couldn't get the arousing beauty of her gorgeously rounded cheeks out of his mind. As he mixed the oils his mind 'saw' her slender back, her ash blonde, shoulder length hair, her deep blue, smoky eyes, the long, wonderfully shaped legs and the full breasts that he was yet see naked. He knew he had to be strong. She was gorgeous, she was sexy and he lusted for her. Momentarily he thought that he should go to reception and ask for a colleague to work on her, but that would be admitting his problem, the partners would get to know and he could be fired. Turning back to her he poured a small amount of oil into the valley in the small of her back he got to work on the fairly deep massage that was needed to loosen up the short, but thick damaged muscle. As his hands pressed and kneaded her back so he could see the outline of her squashed boobs and that confirmed what he'd suspected when he'd seen her dressed. She was definitely a wonderfully full breasted woman.
Although Cat had been massaged before they had been at spas, health farms or beauty salons and never had she had such a strong and deep pummelling of her body. It didn't hurt, but quite often it made her gasp and grunt as his fingers pressed hard upon the flesh just above her hips and around the back of her waist. The area where she knew there was some excess flesh for it was there and on her boobs where the excess unused-up calories gathered.
"Is it ok Catherine?" Drew asked seeing and hearing the effect of his deep massage on his patient.
"Yes sure," she grunted as once more his fingers dug deeply and firmly into her.
"I have to get in deep to get to the muscle so it will be a little heavy and maybe a little uncomfortable for you, sorry."
Cat didn't reply but simply laid there letting her body become accustomed to the strong hands.
"OK that'll do on the actual damaged area," Drew said, adding. "But the effect of that muscle will travel down your legs so I think we'll give them a quick going over as well."
Cat felt him lift the towel a little and then press it in around the tops of her legs. Although she couldn't see she guessed that it was as far up them as it could be and that the start of the swell of the cheeks of her bottom were just about on view to him. She also realised that, probably, he would be able to see that she was wearing a thong, if he hadn't already worked that out, and that made a little shudder run through her. She felt him gently pull her legs open a little and then she lay there expectantly waiting for him to start.
Drew knew he was being a little daft. He recognised that he was taking advantage of the situation, using Cat's stretched back muscle to provide him the opportunity to keep her here. To keep her under his hands, to spend further time massaging her gorgeous and nicely voluptuous body. Whilst it was just about true that the muscle would affect her legs there wasn't really a sound medical reason for him to massage them. No, he reluctantly accepted in his mind, this was not medical, it was far from that and momentarily he considered stopping and telling her he'd changed his mind. But the sight of her lovely face, eyes closed and lips parted, her large breasts squashed against his table, her long, shapely, slightly opened legs, the swell of her bottom and the image of the thong he'd seen earlier were all too much for him.
The feelings on firstly her calf muscles and later on those above her knees were different from those that the massage on her hips, back and waist had given her. His hands didn't seem to be delving as deeply into the flesh. They didn't give her the discomfort and they didn't make her gasp or grunt. No it was an overall lighter and, she had to admit, more pleasurable massage. The hands, oiled and smooth, would glide up her inner thigh and then down again, up and down, up and down. It seemed to go on for ever as Cat became more and more relaxed. It was almost as if she were being hypnotised by the gliding, sliding hands.
Drew had purposefully lightened the massage. Not to the point that it had no medical value for all proper massages will make the blood flow to the areas that are manipulated and will make the patient feel freer and better for it. No it was certainly still a medically sound massage, but now it was also a self-indulgent one. She had great legs he saw. Not overly slim, for her muscles were well formed, but they were lithe and very shapely. He'd earlier noticed the slight excess flesh on her hips that he knew from experience was quite common amongst women of her age. The combination of the legs and hips with the full breasts gave her a very curvy and totally feminine figure just as, Drew acknowledged with a slight gulp, he preferred his women.
He was nearing the end of the time that it would be practicable to keep her here. The clinic was pretty sharp on the length of sessions and he knew that he'd need to finish within the next five minutes or so to avoid a patient back up, something that was particularly frowned upon.
Leaning over Cat he indulged himself on her upper thighs. Sinking his fingers into the soft, gorgeous flesh on the inside of one he massaged that area even more lightly than he had so far. His fingers only inches from the gusset of her thong, that he could see from where his hands had "accidentally" pushed the towel up slightly, he revelled in the sight of her opened thighs, the mounds of her bum under the towel and the odd strand of tawny pubic hair that his keen eyes picked up.
'I must just be getting used to it?' she thought as his hands seemed now to be so much lighter on her. They were almost stroking her she realised thinking. 'It was nearly a caress.' The word coming into her mind affected her. 'A caress" she mused again. 'Was it? Could it be?' her confused garbled mind pondered. She couldn't be sure and felt she was probably mistaken but the soothing fingers on her inner thigh so near to the centre of her womanhood had not only stimulated her mind, Cat realised with a shock, but they'd also stimulated her body for she felt a surge of sexual feeling start to ooze through her.
She almost felt cheated when she heard Drew say.
"Ok that's fine for today ma'am I think we made good progress."
She wasn't sure but was there a slight tightness she heard in his voice? 'Don't be daft' she told herself as she felt him place the robe around her and say.
"Right see you on Tuesday Catherine." Then he was gone and she was left alone to finish dressing back in the cubicle.
Drew had to get away. He had to remove himself from her. It was just too much for him. She was too much. Too much of a temptation and too much of a woman, that was why he had almost fled from the treatment room for he was concerned about going too far.
In his small flat in Camden Town later that evening he agonised as he finished a bottle of South Australia Chardonnay he had bought from the local Waitrose. He had, he knew, come so close to overstepping that boundary. The type of massage was bad enough for she may, he thought, have realised that it was far too light. But he guessed he'd get away with that. But there would be no way he would have been able to get away with what kept coming into his mind as she laid there. No way that she could possibly mistake what he'd momentarily almost done. No, there was no way that any woman could confuse a medical massage with the masseur's fingers stroking her pussy was there?
It was then that he pushed the track trousers down, then that his underpants went with them and then that he took his swollen cock in his hand. Lying back in the chair he closed his eyes as he slowly pumped his cock. His mind was on those cheeks, he stroked them and ran his fingers along the crease, slid them up and down the sculpted thighs that opened to his touch and then found her wet warmness. As he imagined pushing the soaked gusset of her delicate thong to one side and plunging three fingers up her cunt so his young, virile, big, hard cock exploded and spunk shot up his stomach and onto his tee shirt covered chest.
Alone that evening in the huge, Victorian house in the outskirts of St Albans where Cat lived with her corporate lawyer husband, she was also sipping a glass of chilled white wine; hers, however, was French Chablis. With the prospect of yet another long evening alone in front of her, whilst Richard was out to dinner on business, she found the events of the afternoon flooding into her mind. His touch and the feel on legs as he'd massaged them. The sensations that had sent through her and, she had to admit, the slight feelings of want that had created.
"What the fucks happening to me?" she asked herself as she refilled her glass. "Here I am a forty-four year old reasonably happily married woman entertaining erotic thoughts about a young masseur!"
But try as she might they wouldn't go away and even as she once again, 'hmm the third time this week' she registered, climbed alone into the king-sized American bed, they were with her. As she lay there in the semi-darkness, the room lit purely by the lights from the courtyard, she could recall the tingling feelings of his hands on her body, her legs and on her inner thighs. She recalled them vividly, almost as if they were there now. In fact they were there now in her imagination. But not just in her imagination for her own fingers were replicating those sensuous movements. They were trailing up and down that sensitive skin and caressing the smooth expanse of her thighs. This time though, as the fingers trailed upwards they didn't stop as his did. No these fingers went where, she realised, a part of her had wanted his to go. These fingers carried on along that magical pathway, that erotic avenue, that silky road to such pleasure. Yes as Cat lay there her imagination roaring away those fingers found her stunningly wet entrance, her smooth lips and swollen clitoris. And those fingers did to her what in the deepest recesses of her vivid imagination she'd wanted Drew's to do. They fucked her. They fucked her hard and long. They fucked her as she lay on her back her thighs clamped tightly around her own hand. Yes her fingers fucked her just as she'd wanted Drew's fingers to fuck her.
Although Drew came heavily, it wasn't totally satisfyingly. It never can be that satisfying can it? Masturbation just isn't fully satisfying, but it does relieve the ache and, temporarily the need. But Drew was also a little confused and alarmed at the extremity of the thoughts and now deeds that this alluring woman had created in him. She was occupying his thoughts too much. She was, he realised, becoming an obsession. And he knew that the day after tomorrow he had to confront her again, have her as good as naked in a small room alone with him. Have his hands on her stupendous body. Feel her, touch her, massage her. See her opened legs, her shapely thighs and her full, squashed breasts. God he could hardly stand it and he had no idea how he would respond to the terrible temptations that lie ahead the day after tomorrow.