Touch of the Master's Hand

I could scarcely believe my eyes when she walked in the door. I had been expecting her; of course, she always came in about the same time of day. I'll even admit to waiting expectantly for her. She is a pretty young lady, the kind that you just like to look at. She has a pretty face, with long golden tresses of hair tumbling over her shoulders and down her back. I knew she would look nice, she always does. I just didn't expect such a vision of unadulterated raw sex appeal to come strolling in.

I had seen her several times, she is a massage therapist and works from an office connected to our facility and she uses our business entrance. It was early in the afternoon and rain was pounding down in a thunderous roar. Thunder and lightening crashed and rolled, keeping the day interesting, but slow. She pulled up in her car and I knew she was about to make a mad dash for the door, so I hurried over and opened it for her.

She came in the door like a whirlwind. She shook the water from her long hair and, as she did so it splattered all over me. We both laughed and she meekly apologized. I was trying ever so valiantly to be polite, but GOD she looked sexy. I have always thought a woman looks wonderful, when soaking wet with water dripping from her hair and face. She was beyond wonderful, I swear it was intoxicating.

As if the fact that her face and hair were wet weren't bad enough, she was soaked to the skin. Her clothes clung to her. She was wearing scrub pants and they were so wet they were practically see through. Her top was what took my breath away. Hard, dark brown and very stiff nipples seemed as if they might poke completely through the white t-shirt she was wearing. She was even wearing a bra, but the lace was a small deterrent, and actually served more to frame and enhance, rather than to shelter or hide, her wet breasts. The thin white t-shirt clung ferociously to her, the nipples straining against the wet fabric.

We laughed and talked about the rain, and then I suggested that she might wish to go back to her massage room and dry off. She just looked around and asked where everyone was and I told her I was alone in the office because everyone had taken a three day weekend. She just looked at me and smiled and then with a mischievous grin, she suggested I lock the door and come back and dry her off, myself.

What could I say? I locked the doors, transferred the phones and hurried back to her area. She was waiting for me with candles and incense burning and Enya playing on the stereo. She had a towel draped over her shoulders, but had yet to do anything about drying herself off. She was mesmerizing. Her hair clung to the sides of her face and she had a sort of pouty look.

She looked at me and said in a low voice, "I am so wet, why don't you help me?"

I reached for the towel and as I did, she stepped closer to me, murmuring something about wet and soggy clothing. I lay the towel on the table and with deft fingers, began undressing her. I slid her clinging t-shirt over her head and unclasped her bra and pulled it over her shoulders and dropped it to the floor. Then with a slow and gentle touch, I slid her pants down over her curvaceous hips and she stepped gracefully out of them.

She was completely nude, standing in the flickering light of the candles, her body looked exotic and incredibly alluring with shadows dancing over her skin. I leaned down and slipped my left arm around her waist and my right arm behind the bend of her knees, then picked her up tenderly to deposit her on the massage table before me. She sat there, thighs spread open and impishly showing me treat she knew I was longing for.

I bent down and cupped her face in my hands. My hands are quite large and her face was almost comical lying there, framed between my two massive paws. I pulled her gently forward and kissed her lightly on the tip of her nose, then on each cheek, on her forehead and gingerly on her lips.

I took the towel in my hands and began caressing her skin with it, the gentleness of it took her off guard and she looked at me through curious, but eager eyes. I ran the towel over her skin with caress's as light as the fluttering of butterfly wings. As I dried her thighs, a soft moan escaped her throat and she spread her legs eagerly. I simply ignored her and dried her calves and then her feet. I swaddled her foot in the towel and massaged it with gentle strokes, then adoringly spread her toes and patted them dry, tugging lightly on each one as I did so.

Then I kissed the top of her foot, licked the tips of her toes and lifted her foot to suckle on her Achilles heel. After I finished the first, I did the same to the other. I kissed up her calf and nibbled teasingly on her knee. With soft, slow strokes, my tongue crept up her thighs, first one and then the other, back and forth, back and forth.

When I was close enough to her enticing little box, I licked outside and up the crevice between hip and thigh. Then I buried my face in her tummy and suckled her bellybutton, pausing now and then to run my tongue in a tantalizing waltz across the area above her pubes, dipping my tongue now and then to float over her pubic mound.

I kissed up her tummy, biting and gnawing gently on her hip bone and ribcage. I lifted her breast with delicate care and ran my tongue along the little crease where the breast adjoins the chest; I flittered my tongue back and forth over it and then closed my mouth to suckle in a near worshipful manner. I sucked the tender bottom side of her breast and then licked along the outer edges, tongue dancing and spiraling. I circled her nipple and watched with amazement as they drew tighter and harder, pulling the skin around them into tiny wrinkles.

I ran my tongue around each nipple, from one to the next, teasing and kissing. I blew hot breath over them, I licked the outer edges of each one and I then kissed up her chest to her throat.

Her hands tried to pull my face into her breast, but I was not having any of it. She moaned and groaned a soft complaint and some softly muttered curse at me, but kept her hands entwined in my hair. I kissed the hollow spot at the base of her throat, then up each shoulder and climber her neck with a slow moving tongue, intermittently mixed with lashes from a wet and merciless tongue.

I traced around her ear, up the backside of it and then ran my tongue over the upper part, before taking the lobe into my mouth with a slurping pop. I sucked her earlobe and stroked it with my tongue, delving it into her ear to tickle and tease. Then I gently bit the little bony prominence on her jaw, suckled it and kissed around her cheeks to her mouth.

I kissed her plump and pouty lips, running my tongue along the outer edge of each lip, then probing gently between them. Not a wild ram my tongue down your throat kinda kiss, but a soft and magickal parting of her lips with an incredibly delicate tongue.

Then I pushed her gingerly back onto her back. Her legs spread in an inviting, near begging posture and she arched her hips up in a less than bashful announcement of what she wanted. As she did so, she said "now I am REALLY wet, you teasing bastard!"

I kissed down her tummy, again pausing to gnaw on her hip bones and under side if her ribcage. I licked down her pubes, enjoying the push against my face as she rocked her hips upwards to meet me. I kissed the plump lips of her pussy lightly and then slid my tongue down the right lip; pressing firmly and feeling the meaty flesh give way to the caress of my tongue. At the base of the lip, I stopped and gently suckled it into my mouth. I sucked the fat little lip and ran my tongue up and down it as I did so. Then I did the same to the other lip.

I coated both of her juicy pussy lips in kisses, flicking my tongue here and there. I licked her inner thighs, nibbling lightly and then I slowly buried my face into her fleshy pussy. I buried my tongue inside of her and used my nose to massage around her clit, never directly on it, just around it and bumping it occasionally.

Pulling back my dripping face, I positioned myself beside her, then leaned down and began lavishing wet licks of my artful tongue around her swollen and engorged clit. I inserted first my middle finger and then my ring finger, easing them slowly deeper and deeper. I curled them upwards, as if tapping on the backside of her tummy. Making sure to keep my fingers slippery and moist as my tongue and mouth worshipped her budding clit, I slowly built a rhythm of thrusting fingers that though at first were a solo, enjoined the symphony I was playing with my tongue. The music of our play built into a crescendo, her grinding and heaving hips danced as my face and hands directed the début of our joy.

Never stopping or hesitating, I occasionally switched techniques, sometimes massaging with my fingers, other times thrusting and tapping on her inner walls. My wet fingers made sloshing sounds that were divinely inspired as they flew in and out of her. There was a musical slapping sound as the heel of my hand thumped into the meaty pussy it was pounding away at. Schlop, schlop, schlop, schlop, on went the orchestra of my lovemaking.

Concentrating on her every movement, gauging her reactions and in doing so learning her desires and wishes, I was a Maestro and she my orchestra. Musician and instrument, we danced an intimate waltz that left us both panting.

Her grunts of pleasure became moans of delirium and those soon turned into squeals of ecstasy. Her body writhed and squirmed as the intensity built, her muscles quivered and contorted, her back arched as a wave of impending orgasm began to cascade through her entire body.

To be honest, I was exhausted, this kind of concentration consumes a great deal of energy and the repetitive motion of my fingers caused unimaginable cramps, but never did I hesitate or falter. One can think of nothing more than the joy of their partner in such situations. Her rapture, her release, her relaxation, these are the only things on the mind of the musician as he strokes out his melody.

When finally she released her muscles in orgasm, a wave of fluids gushed forth from her as a torrential flash flood. Droplets of fluid flew everywhere as I continued stroking away at her, thrusting deeper and deeper. It dripped from my hand and it splattered on my face. As she came, I pulled back from her clit as not to over-sensitize it and ruin her enjoyment, and my fingers slowed their furious march until at last they lay buried deep inside of her, feeling her muscles spasm and contort against them.

A deep and shuddering sigh escaped her; it exited her mouth but had begun in her toes. Her breath came in ragged gasps as her chest heaved in labored effort. Slowly she began to catch her breath and her eyes lowered to mine.

"My GOD, I have never cum like that before! I didn't even know I COULD! I never had a wet orgasm in my LIFE"

I made a gentle shushing sound and told her to relax. The smile on my dripping face told her I was as happy as she, as I told her "it is all in the direction of the musician, my friend. Anyone that knows the instrument can accomplish the same, if they learn the art and care enough to make the music. As they say, it is all in the touch of the Master's hand."