The Massage

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Beautiful black woman submits to a massage in Africa.
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Lisa opened the door silently. One of those annoying little bells that hang behind a door to announce a visitor's arrival jangled as she stepped into the small sparsely decorated room. A couple of modern art prints hung on the wall above the small simple desk, the only decorations to otherwise break up the monotony of the white walls. The desk had a small vase of tropical flowers, an appointments book and a telephone. Alongside was a small two-seater rattan couch – obviously people did not have to wait long!

A long and exhausting schedule of business calls and visits around Southern Africa had brought her here to Mombasa and this small hotel sandwiched between two major tourist hotels and almost hidden among a forest of palm trees. Business over, her company had offered to treat her to a couple of days R&R before she headed back to America and her family. She thought now about her children, how they would love to run and play in the white sands of the beach or in the blue waters of the hotel pool. Her husband would have loved it too, a chance to soak up some sun and get away from the monotonous dirge of life in the local machine shop. She was the lucky one, Lisa thought, a good job in educational marketing, gave her the chance to travel the world and get away from small town America; an opportunity she relished. But now she was feeling a little selfish; she was enjoying what her family would probably never be able to share with her - a luxury hotel in a far away location.

"Mrs. Williams?" a soft male voice with more than a hint of a South African accent broke her out of her thoughts.

"Err yes, that's me" she turned to face the man who had noiselessly entered the room through a side door and now offered her his hand.

"I apologise," he said, reaching out to take hers; his deep brown eyes looking at her fully. "We have you down as a male guest for some reason." He shook her hand firmly but gently, then turned to the desk to consult the left-hand page. "We tried to call your room when we realised the mistake but you must have already left."

She remembered her long stroll along the beach, the soft warm sand beneath her feet. "Is there a problem then with my massage appointment then?" She looked back into those brown eyes, questioning.

"Well it's late in the afternoon and our girls have all gone. I stayed on to give a sports massage to the last client." He looked up again at her "You are that client but you are clearly not a man or somebody who needs a sports massage." He paused. "What sort of treatment did you ask for?"

"Well," she looked once again into those eyes, "I need to unwind so a deep relaxing massage to free up some fairly tired and aching muscles." He broke the link and looked down.

"Well if you are happy for me to do it, I could give you a short massage now and book you in with one of the girls tomorrow morning?" He paused then the eyes returned to her face. "Of course we would only charge for the one treatment." He gave no clue to what may be going on his mind but he was looking at her for a response.

"Its fine with me – I really need some help to relax and two for the price of one seems a good deal to me." She smiled allowing him to enjoy the warmth of her smile, white teeth contrasting with her red lips and coffee coloured skin.

"OK come with me then" he turned and opened the door through which he had entered. Holding the door ajar for her, he led the way down a narrow corridor. She found herself looking at the figure ahead of her. Traces of grey in his hair gave the way the secret that he was probably the wrong side of 45, but his body looked well toned and fit beneath the white T shirt loose fitting cut offs. He wore no shoes and his arms and legs, like his face was tanned a deep reddish brown from his time here in east Africa.

He pointed to the last door, "If you would like to go in there and make yourself comfortable on the massage table?" He released the door catch and her senses were immediately filled with the smells and sounds of the sea. "I will go and get some towels and oils and be right with you."

The small room had walls of thin reeds, the exception being that which faced her from the doorway. This was largely open to the beach, a warm breeze blowing in from the sea through the glassless window, the far off sounds of the last people on the beach the only sound. Lisa felt herself relaxing. "If the guys could just see me now" she thought.

The massage table was a simple but sturdy trestle covered in soft white fluffy towels. She had been given no instructions – should she undress? She still wore her simple (but modest) bikini from her beach walk. She decided that to avoid embarrassment she should keep this on. She placed her beach robe on the only chair and laid, face down on the table. "To avoid embarrassment" - she was not sure who would be embarrassed her or this middle aged man who was about to provide her massage. Had he seen it all before? "Yes", probably, although in a hotel like this they would be careful not to offend anyone. Was she embarrassed? Well yes she thought, or least she should be, laying nearly naked in front of a stranger – a strange man.

Not that he was strange, he might be nearly old enough to be her father but he was quite good looking in a mature sophisticated way. As these thoughts occupied her mind, she did not hear him enter the room nor the soft click as he turned the little bolt which registered "Engaged" on the other side.

"I have some aromatic oils which I think will help you relax" the soft voice broke the tranquillity and her train of thought.

"Err Yes". "Thank you that sounds wonderful." She was aware that he was moving around the room. She felt the soft texture of the warm cotton towels that he now spread over her legs and lower back.

"This is the nicest massage room. I love to work in here especially at the end of the day. You can smell the warmth and freshness of the sea." She heard him inhale. "I sometimes think I should pay them to work here" she heard a little chuckle and she smiled. She knew what he must mean. "May I?" he added in a matter of fact way.

The unrelated question broke her relaxation slightly. She didn't answer; but felt his fingers untying the simple knot that held her bikini top together. She didn't object, of course he needed free access to her back she reasoned as she allowed herself to fall into a sort on languid state. "This is the life" she thought. She could not see the look in his eyes as he stared down at this beautiful negress who lay before him. He gently warmed the scented oils in his hands.

He had spent nearly all his life in Africa and had enjoyed the company of many African girls and women. Why, he had briefly been married to one, but that was all in the past and the modern horrors of aids and his advancing years – he would be 50 next birthday - meant that he was no longer a young rake. The East African girls he had loved all had such dark skin, almost a true chocolate whereas the West African girls he had known were all much darker – ebony in fact. He smiled to himself, "What did these Europeans know?" Black women were not all the same and it was that rich variety which had so absorbed him throughout his time as a mercenary in West Africa and now as a fitness instructor in Kenya. He had a small stake in the fitness company which operated at this hotel providing the gym and water sports facilities. Many of his young instructors and masseurs had fun with the clients and he prided himself in selecting good looking boys and girls who were also excellent workers.

But now, as he spread the first silky coat of aromatic oil over Lisa's shoulders he wondered again about the rich variety of the African woman. Not that Lisa probably thought of herself as African – what term was it now politically correct to use? Afro-American? Her skin was not black or even a true brown, more the colour of coffee and with all the subtle variations that this can conjure up in the mind. He wondered at how the oil changed the subtlety of the colour, much as a good polish heightened the colour of wooden furniture. He shook himself what was he thinking – he was not concentrating on the job in hand. His hands!

Lisa felt the small change in his hands. Those gentle fingers which seemed almost to stroke her skin now applied firmer pressure. His talented fingers gently pushed and pulled at her muscles, easing away the tension and tautness which had built up over these last 10 days of travelling. She could smell the scent of the oils – sandalwood perhaps? – which now mixed with that of the sea breezes. He manipulated her neck, easing the stresses; soft fingers moving into her hair to caress her scalp. They returned to her shoulders, then her arms, each in turn being gently twisted turned and stretched to relax the muscles. He was fighting hard to concentrate, as he massaged her arms he saw how she lifted slightly from the table, the swell of her breast remoulding. He was in no doubt that this client was a very handsome young woman and he yearned to be much younger.

An early liaison with a beautiful client had proved to be a mistake which had nearly cost him his first job. It had taught him not to mix business and pleasure. But, yet again his thoughts returned to the beautiful woman he saw before him. He knew nothing about her nor she about him. That was always the case. Treatments were always performed with the simple accompaniment of the surf and the wind for music. He had seen a ring so she was probably married. Was she here alone? Did she have a husband with her? Questions which would all remain unanswered.

He moved along her body, his hands moving now down her back, strong fingers firmly pushing against resisting muscles as he tried to relieve the tension he found there. What was she like as a lover? Conservative? Reckless? He shook his head; forcing himself to remove such thoughts from his head. He knew his penis was responding to the sight in front of him and his conjectures. He passed over the towel and started to work on her legs smoothing the backs of her thighs, kneading her flesh with a fresh supply of the scented oils. He was only vaguely aware of the small shift in her posture.

As his hands started to work their magic on her legs Lisa moved her legs slightly apart. She was slowly becoming aroused by the actions of this talented man and she was actually fighting the urge to squeeze her legs together. She was becoming torn between the enjoyment of having this man do such wonderful things to her and the feeling of guilt that it that much more enjoyable because it was a man; a good looking one as well! She felt his hands move to her calves and pushed such thoughts from her mind. She relaxed and just allowed herself to drift away.

His hands detected the slight relaxation as he slowly lifted on her feet in the air and started to manipulate her toes. He was taking his time – it was becoming a labour of love and a task for his own satisfaction as much as hers. He lifted her other foot and only then became aware that the towels draped over bottom had slipped up over her buttocks. Yes she still had her bikini bottoms on, but the material had now all but disappeared into the cleft of her buttocks. He looked, transfixed as the same material had now been drawn tightly over her pussy. He could just make out the shape of her lips moulded by the floral lycra.

His cock stiffened in his shorts, a discernable bulge now forming. He tried desperately to tell himself to relax as he now had to move to her head to complete the massage. He lowered her foot gently to the bed and moved slowly along side the narrow trestle table.

"Turn over please?" he tried to sound professional but his throat was dry and his voice was croaky.

Lisa languidly moved to turn onto her back, at the last minute remembering her untied bikini and holding it to the swell of her chest as she did so. In her relaxed state she thought she had caught it in time. He however, saw a small glimpse of her nipple as she arranged herself. His cock sprang further to attention.

He moved to the head of the bed pressing his hard flesh against the edge in a vain attempt to control it. Then he became aware of the obvious; his hard cock was now just a couple of inches from her head and developing a mind of its own! He tried to push lustful thoughts to the back of his mind as he poured a little more of the scented oil on his hands and started once again to work his magic on her skin.

Lisa felt his hands on her neck, finger tips gently probing and manipulating her muscles and tendons. She was aware that he was now very close to her, she could smell his scent as his hands now worked along her shoulders and arms. Her eyes were closed but her inners senses told her she was looking down at her intently. She could almost feel his eyes penetrating her skin like miniature x-rays. His hands smoothed across her chest, now far more of a caress than the actions of a masseur. She had asked for a relaxing massage to help her unwind and now, in most senses she was more relaxed than she could remember for a long time. In another however, she could feel a tension building deep inside her body - a sensual tension.

He looked down as he worked, his hands getting bolder as he smoothed the lotion into her coffee cream skin. His fingers brushed the top of her bikini – accidently at first and then again purposefully as he sought to just touch the swell of her breasts now partially exposed. His fingers moved again, this third time reaching the first few millimetres of her breasts, the circular motion of his fingers making them move. The cups of her bra slipped slightly exposing a little more succulent flesh. His penis stood rock hard, a prisoner between his body and the table edge. Beads of sweat formed on his temple. He was going too far, further than his senses knew was proper, but powerless to stop himself. His body seemed disconnected with sane part of his brain; unplugged from the muscles that now guided his hands. Once again the circular motion of his hands brought him into contact with softness of her breasts – the bra slipped a little further.

"Mmmmmm" an involuntary sleepy sound emanated from Lisa as she gave herself over to the delightful sensations. She should be saying "No", stopping him, but her body slightly -almost imperceptibly - moved towards his exploring fingers.

"OK?" he could barely utter those two letters.

"Mmmmmm Nice" her answer a whisper, the merest of sounds.

His fingers stole under the fabric of her bikini, now grazing the textured skin which surrounded her erect nipple. The next circle and her nipples came into view. Taut brown pinnacles standing proudly on her smooth skin. The sensual part of his brain made a decision - it was now or never.

Gently his fingers lifted the bikini top away from her body, dropping it swiftly, silently, to the floor his warm scented hands quickly replaced the cloth to continue their caress and retain the warmth of her skin. His fingers started to gently mould the fullness of her bosom, spreading the sweet oils over her skin, kneading her flesh.

Lisa was lost in the mists of a sensual haze – all reason or sense of what was proper or correct had long since been expelled from her brain – she drifted slowly but surely into a form of sexual nirvana all focussed upon the points of contact between this man and her increasingly aroused body. Her breathing was becoming shallow, her eyes remained closed, her remaining senses were only dimly aware now of the sounds of the surf lapping against the beach, the gentle breeze wafting over her skin, the smell. "Mmmmmmmmmm what is that scent" her mind mused over the question, the smell of pine and tropical flowers? But there was another scent she could not place. She shifted her position slightly, opening her legs a few millimetres. She was dimly aware of the dampness which had formed between her legs; a dampness now drying slowly in the sea breeze.

He detected the change within her and in that small movement new that he would find no resistance if he went further, that sixth sense in his brain telling him that she was ready to be possessed should he want to.

He leaned forward, now not caring that the slightest movement of her head would brink into contact with his shorts and the rigid pole contained therein. His hands continued to work on her body, teasing her nipples squeezing her breasts. His hand occasionally moved further down her body the circular motions spreading over her flat tummy, leaving a trace of the oil as they went. With every complete movement he returned to her breasts to caress and pull those hard nipples which seemed to grow with every caress. Slowly, very slowly, being careful not to break the bond and the contact, he moved to the side of the massage table. His hands continued to administer their circular caresses but they broadened their orbits moving further over her body. He saw her body shift a little more, a thin clear space now open between her thighs.

Lisa's senses excluded all but the feelings now washing over her prone body. She had never felt this way before, may never again. She had a feeling that this may be a once in a lifetime experience. Her reactions and movements were instinctive. Not aware that she was now fully accessible to his hands. The fire that would soon erupt within her had been lit and nothing was going to stop it taking its natural course.

She felt warmth on her breast as he took one of her engorged nipples into his mouth - the first time that anything other than his hands had touched her flesh. A few seconds later the other breast enjoyed the same light almost featherlike caress of his tongue. This distraction gave him the room and opportunity to embolden his fingers. As his tongue snaked across her nipple, the tips of his fingers traced the edges of her bikini bottoms, feeling the real heat which now emanated from her pussy.

Lisa moaned softly, her overly sensitive nipples responding to every caress as his silken tongue washed over them in turn. She was only vaguely aware of his fingers now passing over bikini bottoms, tracing the damp furrow formed where the tightly drawn material squeezed over her pussy. Even as his fingers snaked around the edges of the material, lightly touching – exploring – her attention remained with the heavenly feelings emanating from the tips of her breasts. She arched slightly as if to put more of her flesh within the reach of his smooth tongue. His fingers now passed over hips tracing the edges of her brief bikini bottoms until they found the simple strings which held the two triangles together.

It was the act of moments to simply, gently pull the loose ends and release the simple knots.

He moved his finger slightly across the top edge of the material until the reached her hip now pressed firmly against his own. Lifting the material gently, he sucked her nipple between his teeth, providing the distraction which he hoped would enable him to reach her fully naked form.

He heard her catch her breath and push up from the table so that her chest could better meet his mouth. At that instant his fingers slide delicately under the material, gliding over her smooth flesh, over the slight stubble to reach those puffy lips which were now exposed to the cool ocean breeze. As his index finger eased between the brown lips, they both felt the contained moisture seep out and over his fingers. Only then did Lisa fully realise that she was fully exposed to this man. Fully exposed to only the second man in her life.

What happened next was impulsive, driven by sheer lust. Lisa's lust.

She threw back her head, arching her body upwards to push her smooth breasts further into his face while forcing her pussy down and over his invading finger. Immediately she went from being a highly aroused woman to a wanton, a caged lioness on heat. Nothing mattered more in the world to Lisa in those few seconds except the need to cum.

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