tagErotic CouplingsMassage Control

Massage Control

bydanishmichaela©

As the hand slid up the inside of the thirty seven 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 so 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. 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. Willing the younger man to shove those fingers right up her cunt.

As the twenty six year old Australian man looked at the rounded body of the woman he also felt some 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 was that a low gasp he heard? 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 was the third time that Michaela, or Michy as most of her friends called her, had visited the physiotherapist for the pulled muscle in her lower back. The third time she'd lain on the table naked apart from her panties and towels placed discretely over her body. And each time she'd had these feelings. Initially they were hardly noticeable. The first time he'd massaged her, her mind had only briefly dwelled on the slightly erotic nature of the situation. The second time the feelings had been more powerful and now, this time, they were becoming intense, almost unbearable.

But she knew she was being ridiculous. She was a fairly imaginative sort of woman, she had to be, after all, she was a senior manager in a US, global investment bank. She was quite used to her mind thoroughly analysing situations and looking at things from all angles. After all, when you are head of mergers and acquisitions for Europe and the Middle East a woman needs to be imaginative 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 to have the thoughts she had. 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 and 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. In any case, she was a respectable separated woman making it big time in banking and was not prone to having flings, well not ones that could rebound on her.

Michaela is Danish. She has the liberated, free-thinking attitude towards sex that is a feature of the Scandinavian personality. Throughout her marriage, both she and Erik her husband had embraced this philosophy so neither had felt restricted to sex within their marriage. The marriage had, in the main worked that is until the bank offered Michaela a massive promotion that meant she had to relocate to London. Erik hated the UK and downright refused. Hence, the split.

Brad had moved to the UK just over a year ago after completing his physio. course at Melbourne Medical School. He'd been fairly lucky to land the job with this practice based in the Mayfair area 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 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 women, 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 and the temptations. The women that 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 students 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. Not that he'd come across a woman who was 'offering' herself for what Brad experienced was far worse. He was finding himself tempted by women who weren't suggesting more. And that in the UK would be an arrestable offence and one that would for certain lose him his license.

Michy 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 Brad 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 towelling 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 Michaela, could you lay on your front on the table please and undo the tie on the robe?" Brad 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. Brad 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 standing quite close to where her knees stuck out from the edge of the table making notes on her record. Michy couldn't help thinking how dashing he looked in his tight, white, short-sleeved tunic and 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 Brad came back into the room. After asking how it felt, he 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," Michy replied, quite looking forward to being massaged.

"OK well you'll need to undo the robe again and lay on your front" he explained.

Removing her glasses and giving them to Brad who placed them on a cabinet, she did as he asked and laid there the gown open her bare breasts pressed firmly against the table. Brad took hold of the gown and lifted it away from Michy 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 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. Pouring a small amount of that 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 an extremely full-breasted woman with spiky, blonde with darker streaked hair.

Although Michy had been massaged before they had been at health farms or beauty salons and never had she had such a strong and deep pummelling of her body. It didn't hurt but did quite often make her gasp and grunt as his fingers pressed hard upon the flesh and deep into her muscles 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 Michaela?" Brad asked seeing and hearing the effect of his deep massage on his patient.

"Yes sure" she grunted as once more his fingers delved deeply and firmly into her.

"I have to get in deep to get to the muscle so it will be a little heavy for you, sorry."

Michy 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," Brad 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."

Michy 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 laid there expectantly waiting for him to start.

Brad knew he was being a little daft. He recognised that he was taking advantage of the situation, using Michy'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 altogetherl 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 Michy became more and more relaxed. It was almost as if she were being hypnotised by the gliding, sliding hands.

Brad 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 Michy's age that he put in the late thirties or maybe early forties. The combination of the legs and hips with the full breasts gave her a very curvy and totally feminine figure just, Brad acknowledged with a slight gulp, as 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 Michy 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 straying from her panties.

'I must just be getting used to it?' she thought as his hands seemed now to be so much lighter on her. Almost stroking her. 'Nearly a caress' she thought, suddenly. 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, Michy 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 Brad say.

"Ok that's fine for today Michy 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 Michy." Then he was gone and she was left alone to finish dressing back in the cubicle.

Brad 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. In his small flat later that evening he agonised for a moment. 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. However, 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?

Alone that evening in the sumptuous Mount Street apartment provided by the bank where Michy lived, she was sipping a glass of chilled Chablis. With the prospect of yet another long evening alone, 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 thirty seven, well actually eight, year old highly successful banker entertaining erotic thoughts about a young masseur!"

But try as she might they wouldn't go away and even as she once again climbed into the king sized American bed, naked they were with her. As she lay there in the semi-darkness, the room lit purely by the lights from the road, 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 movement. Trailing up and down that sensitive skin. Caressing the smooth expanse of her thighs. This time though, as the fingers trailed upwards they didn't stop where his had. 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 Michy 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 Brad'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 guiltily admitted she wanted Brad's fingers to fuck her.

The thin band of elastic around her waist indicating she was wearing a thong. The all too brief glimpse of it as he placed the towel over her buttocks. The sight of the slither of lace vanishing between the full, rounded cheeks. Her heavy breasts squashed against the table, her thighs, her short, rather masculine, blondish, spiky long, chestnut hair, dark eyes and full lips all reverberated around Brad's mind as he lay on his single bed naked. The recollections of them were so vivid it was almost as if she were here with him in his small flat. Almost as if she was on the bed with him. Almost as if it was Michy and not him that was holding his achingly swollen manhood, stroking and pumping it. It was almost as if it was her body he was surging in and out of, and not his hand, which was acting as her surrogate pussy.

He came, heavily, splattering his cum over his belly with one or two streams hitting his chest. Not totally satisfyingly though. 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 Brad 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.

Smiling as she dressed, Michy slid into a pair of panties that were almost of Bridget Jones proportions. Sensible white cotton and full they were the sort that were designed to be worn under tight clothes, their fullness ensuring no unsightly VPL. They were not, though, the sort to be undressed in prior to making love she noted.

'Stop being a stupid cow' she told herself as she undressed and slipped into the robe. 'Nothing will happen, it's all in your mind, in your frustrated mind' she recognised with a jolt.

'Oh shit she looks fantastic' Brad thought to himself as he wandered into the treatment room and saw Michy sitting on the table in the white, towelling robe. He'd momentarily thought of calling in sick this morning but he couldn't. The lure of seeing her and being with her outweighed his concerns. It was a greater reward to massage her again than it was a threat at what he knew he'd feel and what he was worried like hell about what he may do.

"Hi, how's it been?" he asked.

"A little better, but still hurting when I stretch or bend" she replied feeling apprehensive as she looked at him recalling her thoughts as she'd masturbated after the first session. She hoped it didn't show and that she wasn't blushing.

"Well let's have a look at it then?" he smiled his heart beating a little faster at the prospect of once more seeing her nearly naked and getting those glimpses that had so aroused him last time.

Michy undid the tie on the gown holding it together as she clambered onto the table. She laid on her front pulling the sides of it away from her. She felt him pulling the gown down her back and then his fingers digging into her.

"Phew" she grunted as they hit a tender spot.

"It's still inflamed but this session of sonic heat should fix that" he explained. "Does it hurt anywhere else?"

"Yes more round by my hip."

"Here?" he asked slipping his hand slightly under the robe and pushing into the swell of one of the cheeks of her bottom near to the rear of her hip joint.

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