I'd arrive and you'd leave me for a few minutes to compose myself, a chance to take a few deep breaths to curtail the longing that twisted my insides from the moment you messaged me to now, this moment where I stand in your room, soft music playing in the background, lights dimmed and warmth enough for me to ease my jacket off without further ado.
I'd be lulled, no false sense of security this one. This one, an all knowing, all accepting task - to star in my own fantasy. I wonder how you'd react if you knew the rest of my fantasies, but those are for some other time. For now, the sensuous assault the music was having on my mind, was enough.
There was a gown on the table, a hospital gown with ties on the sides. It was cream... at least I wouldn't look 30 years older than I was. Cream would be kind to me.
I slipped out of my shoes, aching feet feeling the cool floor as a blessing, lifted my top over my head and half folded it laying it across the chair. My skirt joined it, then my bra and panties. I looked around, very self conscious. I might be living my ultimate fantasy, but it didn't mean it wouldn't have moments where uncertainty would run rampant through my mind. Cameras? Peep holes? Two way mirror windows? I couldn't see any.
Cursed with an over-active imagination that I'd thought of as a gift until now, I quickly pulled the gown over my head and took more deep breaths. I am meant to be relaxed, meant to enjoy this fantasy. Meant to live it, bring it into reality, and love it.
I pushed my clothes aside and sat on the edge of the chair. Within moments he came into the room, looking deliciously tanned, sexy and ready to rumple my rolls. Well, not quite rumple them. More like addle my few remaining brain cells and cause my toes to curl. I felt my insides melting and wondered if I'd burst into flames before he'd even touch me.
"Hi, you look ready for this. Climb on up," he patted the table.
"You're sure I won't break it? It doesn't look too strong." Could he hear the shaking in my voice?
"You'll be fine," he laughed. "It'll take the weight of 3 of you. Up you get."
There was something kind in his smile and so I took him at his word and climbed up. His hands briefly caressed my back. Deftly, he undid the top ties of the gown leaving it draping low on my back. His hands, warm and strong left me while he poured oil onto his palms and then from his palms, onto my back. He worked his way from the centre of my back to my shoulders, gently kneading away the stress knots, desensitizing my body to his hands. I closed my eyes, letting the music and his touch take me wherever he wanted me to go. Where I went was completely out of my own control. It was up to him.
Gently, firmly, he kneaded my back, up the centre of my backbone, thumbs either side, sliding smoothly. Over my shoulders, cupping his palms on them and letting the warmth seep through me. I sighed, inaudible I thought until he whispered "Good girl. Just relax and let me do the work." I took him at his word, sinking deeper into a pleasant, not-quite-there, drifting dream.
His hands moved back down my back. It felt excruciatingly slow and I almost arched my back as he went lower and lower and finally slowed to a halt on my bottom. I held my breath waiting for what might come next. His hands worked their way back up and I didn't know whether to be disappointed, or relieved at the stay of execution. So much for relaxing.
On their next trajectory down, they stayed there, right on my bottom, gently kneading one cheek, then the other, and then both at the same time. It was heaven. No one had ever done that. Considering it was only my second massage in my life, I could say that this one had already superseded anything I'd ever felt. I wondered idly, how much he'd charge for doing this once a week every week. I didn't think I'd get sick of it any time soon.
One finger slipped between my buttocks and then was back kneading before I could form a coherent thought. Maybe I'd imagined it. Surely he hadn't touched me there. I concentrated harder, tried to block out the music, the floral scent of the oil, concentrated only on his touch. I tried to flex my cheeks, to feel if there was oil down there, but couldn't feel anything. I'd probably imagined it. I know I'd been promised an extra special massage, but I doubt it would involve anything like that.
Breathing normally again and forgetting to concentrate on anything except the soothing loosening of muscle, I dozed. He moved down, worked on one foot, pushing and holding the push firmly to loosen the muscle along the sole of my foot. Maybe he knew I usually wore heels and that my feet needed extra care and attention. Whatever his reasoning, I almost purred as his fingers went between my toes, massaging each one until I could not help but sigh in pleasure.
"You like that?" His quiet voice rode the waves of music with me.
"Yes. Very much."
"Good, just relax. Totally relax."
And I did, my skin warming, and if glowing were able to be felt, I was sure this was how it would feel. His hands moved to my ankles and I felt both ankles caught in the firm grip of his hand restraints. He could do whatever he wanted with me, we both knew it. And he did, separating each leg until I felt sure he could see right up to where a once dull ache, was now wide awake and humming in anticipation.
He worked on one leg, his hands never leaving my skin, rubbing, kneading, up, up, up slowly and as I held my breath (so much for relaxing) back down, firmly rolling the tightness away leaving me a whimpering limp doll. The other leg received the same treatment and I didn't hold my breath, I just flowed with his fingers, even when they brushed accidentally against my cunt. He must have felt the heat because I heard his intake of breath. His hands continued, kneading the inside of my thighs higher and higher until I was left in no doubt that his knuckles were the beginning of a massaging assault on the part of me that pounded most for release.
I felt my cunt lips swell and I blushed as he could no doubt watch them. They pouted and parted and I tried hard not to be embarrassed at whatever he could see. It didn't matter though because he moved higher, kneading my arse cheeks until I felt they were blushing as red as my face.
He moved up my back, slow, firm movements as if his hands were the same mold as my body, moved up to my shoulders and settled there for a moment, whether to give me time to breathe a little deeper again or to give himself time to calm, I don't know. All I knew was that when one hand gripped one of my wrists, and the other massaged the full length of my arm, my fingers brushed against his body and I didn't dare look up to see what hard part of him I had touched. He massaged my other arm, and again my fingers brushed against him. Against his shirt, I thought. But I knew the feel of him now and my mouth watered for more.
"Lift up and turn over, love."
I did and he pulled the gown away from under me, draping it over my front. I was glad he did that, I wasn't quite ready to bare my entire body to him. That is, until he started massaging my neck, his hand moving slowly and gently down until one breast was cupped and gently massaged. He did it one handed, reaching for the warm oil and pouring a little more directly onto my chest, brushing away the gown as he did so.
The thought of him seeing my breasts, of touching them and knowing that what he was doing was very definitely turning me on, made me blush deeper and if he couldn't tell by my blush, I was sure he would notice the tiny squirming wiggles my butt was doing on the table. I could no longer keep still, that is until one hand massaged my breast and the other moved down over my tummy to massage my hot aching outer cunt lips. I knew where I wanted him, but his hands felt so very good right where they were, I daren't move, nor beg a change.
He used both of his hands, holding one cunt lip between his fingers and gently massaging its length. My whole body was on red alert, waiting, wanting, but all he continued to do was massage my outer lips. I closed my eyes, willed myself to un-tense, took a deep breath and as I was letting it out, one finger moved to the inside of my lips and if I didn't know any better, my body betrayed me by becoming yet more moist, if that were possible. I felt a drip slide out of my cunt and down to swing a moment from my skin before dropping to the table, a single drip that felt like a river gushing.
Again, his fingertip moved slow and firm inside my lips. He slid so well it was as if his finger was made for this very task. I held my breath, my breasts rose and his finger slipped inside me. He must have been able to see the steam rising, but he didn't hesitate, he kept plundering me there and my legs parted enough to allow me to slightly push against him.
I felt a stretch, a slight pull and more delicious invasion deep inside. I groaned, my hands gripping the side of the massage table in case my whole body melted, dripping to the floor. It didn't. Instead, I found my hips lifting a little to thrust against him and no sooner had I done that, than he slipped his fingers out and moved to my breasts. He covered my nipples in my own cunt juice, lifting one towards me. I knew what he wanted and let my tongue circle my own nipple, licking my cream off.
He watched my tongue, and each time I looked up, I watched his eyes. He looked away, perhaps to steady himself, or perhaps he was made of steel on the inside and needed no steadying. Whatever the cause, he looked away and his fingers resumed their studied care and attention on my cunt. He parted my cunt lips, very gently easing my tiny clit out and I felt the rasp of his tongue. He spat on it, licked it slow and gentle -- a torturous tease that ended with me clamping my legs together.
For the first time his hands completely left my body. I opened my eyes to see him smiling down at me, closed them again only to fly open a moment later when he deftly cuffed my wrists to some unseen point beyond my head.
"What are you doing?" I demanded. "This isn't part of the plan."
"Yes it is. It's part of my plan. I know exactly what you want and how you want it. Now be quiet."
I clamped my legs together as he moved down the table, but it wasn't any use. Firmly, one after the other, he cuffed them and tied them until they were spread open. My whole body was open. I couldn't reach to scratch my nose and I couldn't close my legs no matter how hard I tried. And I really did try.
I lay still and rigid for a moment, reasoning with myself that this was for me, this real life fantasy, and any fantasy I had would not involve being hurt. I had to trust him, this complete stranger who now knew exactly what his touch did, wherever he wanted to touch me. And oh dear God, he sure knew how to touch.
With a little oil on his fingertips he gently massaged my nipples. I felt it deep in my cunt, closed my eyes and moaned softly. I didn't need to look at him to know his smile. He stayed there, rolling them very gently with his fingers and thumbs, pulling just a little. When I could form a coherent thought, I opened my eyes to see them erect, glistening with oil as he rubbed the tips. Another moan escaped my lips and it felt horribly as if I was dripping body fluids onto the table.
He seemed to know my discomfort, maybe my squirming gave it away, and one finger deftly scooped up the liquid and spread it over one breast and nipple. I could smell my sex and judging by the slight flare of his nostrils, he could too. I wondered what he would do next, feed it to me, or feast on it himself. He did neither. And there it stayed and dried until much, much later.
I lay there, on the table, waiting quietly, listening to the music. My breathing slowed and deepened as I remembered how to relax. I let my eyes close, focusing only on the music and the scent the oil smeared on the air. I drifted. Lay between worlds in that half-sleep state we long for and then I let the cloak of sleep cover me, just for a few minutes.
Just until something cold pressed against me, waking my cunt instantly to hammer-throbbing intensity. My eyes flew open and saw nothing. Black nothing. A piece of material covered my eyes and no matter how much I shook and turned my head, it wouldn't budge. Blind. Blind and cooling down with an ice block half stuck in my cunt. Now that was something new, I had to say.
Except I couldn't. Something rubbery and round was quickly placed between my teeth and this part of my fantasy was a part I didn't like. It made me instantly panic, the more I tried to push and spit it out, the more steady it was held.
I forced myself to relax, forced my mind to stop its screaming panic, and my body to stop its useless fight against rigid bindings. My chest heaved with my panicked breathing, and I forced myself to deep breathe, to slow my pulse rate, to calm.
"That's better, good girl." I jumped as his words whispered their secret way into my ear, his breath warm on my skin. I jammed my eyes closed behind the blindfold, mentally counting to ten, to twenty, to still the rushing tide of panic before it crept up and out of my mouth in the form of a scream. Instead it turned to a moan as his warm palms massaged my breasts.
I let out a gush of air, I knew the whisper, knew the hands that touched me. I was okay. Just because I couldn't see or speak didn't mean I needed to be afraid. I trusted him, he wouldn't hurt me.
And then he started talking to me, really talking. I struggled to listen beyond the feel of his touch. His voice recorded what he was doing, what he might want to do. He asked me questions, would I like..., how would I feel about... all I could do was moan my response, moan and nod or shake my head 'no'. It didn't take long for me to realize he didn't like me answering 'no'. Only a couple of nipple pinches that made me gasp as white hot pain surged through my body, my brain eventually realizing and connecting the dots.
I felt the ice melting, trickling down between my legs and squirmed a little at the sensation. Cold and wet landed on my tummy, on my breasts, on my legs. I don't know what it was and the coldness lasted only a few moments, seemed to overflow and run down my sides.
"Don't move. Don't dare move," he said. "I want to see how much you can hold."
How much what? I wondered. I tried to say it but my tongue moved and drool pooled to spill from the sides of my mouth. I prayed he wasn't watching me dribble.
There was a rasping feel against my tummy. Was he drinking from my body? Licking me clean? It didn't feel like a tongue, at least not any tongue I knew. My mind raced, trying to work out what he was doing, what tool he used. Nothing came to mind.
One nipple was tugged, gently but firmly. I felt it stand out, guessed at his nod of approval and then felt something cold move over it and tighten. It was held firm and the constant tingling in my cunt told me it was held just right to drive me completely nuts in a very short time.
He did the same to the other nipple. That one was much more sensitive. Only the slightest touch caused it to send electric shock waves directly to my cunt. Neither nipple hurt. They were simply held erect in a light pinch feel. Very, very effectively fine tuning my body for god only knew what else.
I wasn't going anywhere, anytime soon.