tagErotic CouplingsWhat a Fucking Massage Ch. 01

What a Fucking Massage Ch. 01

bylondon_james2010©

I never saw or heard from the mysterious Missus Rogers again. Those incredible times in my treatment room became like a dream; a lovely dream, a horny dream and several times the subject of a wet dream. She was every young physio's fantasy and nightmare all wrapped up in one. She was in her forties and very attractive with a great figure and fantastic tits. She had injured her lower back and upper thigh playing tennis and came to the practice where I was employed to have it sorted out. I got that job. It turned out to be so much more than just a job for Missus Rogers was up for all the things we had been warned about at college in Melbourne. Oh yes, by the way I am a twenty seven years old Aussie working in London.

She came to the clinic four times. Each time I treated her she opened up more. Not just with her conversation, but also with her legs. Whether she was up for it before she came to the clinic, whether it was my irresistible charm or just how things developed I never found out. But gradually during those four visits she relaxed her inhibitions and coyly accepted the subtle invitations I made with my hands. On the fourth visit she capitulated completely and I ended up finger fucking her to a full, but fortunately not too noisy orgasm

As I got back into the routine of being a 'proper' physiotherapist I continually hoped that another Missus Rogers would come across my treatment table. 'No chance though,' I thought, 'that was a once in a lifetime experience.' Although I knew that I shouldn't I did hope, though that every time a remotely attractive woman became my patient she would be like Missus Rogers.

I'd been in the UK for just over two years when that experience happened. I was in London for it seemed to have so much more to offer a twenty six year old, very randy Aussie than the rather provincial Adelaide that was my home town. But by Christ was it expensive. Despite being lucky in landing a good job as a, very, junior partner in a physiotherapist practice in the Docklands area of London, money was tight. I had nowhere near the life-style I wanted or, I had to be honest that I could probably have had back in Oz.

I wasn't really sure, particularly after what had happened with Missus Rogers that I was really cut out to be a physiotherapist. Although I felt that I was good at diagnosing problems and could treat them effectively I found dealing with women so difficult. I mean what twenty six year old wouldn't have problems massaging half naked women? I suffered from terrible urges when treating them particularly, of course, attractive ones and especially older, attractive ones, like Missus Rogers. As it happens I didn't get that many and those I did get tended to be older, fifty and upwards usually. The really worrying thing that got to me was that age didn't seem to reduce a woman's appeal. This hit me when I was massaging a sixty-eight year old and I got a hard on; well she did have nice tits! I sometimes found the temptation of having a half naked woman lying in front of me, my hands on her bare skin, my eyes catching glimpses of parts of her that I shouldn't, so difficult to resist.

Almost a year had passed since that momentous last time with Missus Rogers and nothing remotely promising had happened with any other woman since. This was despite me developing a way of testing the water. So far, unfortunately, probably inevitably and maybe fortuitously all the tests had been negative, but I was, if nothing else, optimistic and I persevered with my little test programme.

I'd been told about it by a mate who still lived in Melbourne and worked there in a similar job to me. He was older, well into his late thirties. We chatted on the web quite often so I could keep in touch with what was happening in Melbourne and I'd told him about my problem.

"Nothing unusual in that mate," he'd written in yahoo messenger. "We all live in hope, you've just got to shorten the odds a bit haven't you?

"How d'you mean, Gordy?

"Just lighten your touch Brad when you massage her when she's laying on her front," he'd said. "Run your hands gently up the inside of her thighs going close to her pussy, but not touching. If she likes it you'll see and then you're in, if she gives no signs then back off and you're ok. Simple ennit mate?"

So I'd tried that half a dozen or so times and had got no reactions whatsoever. But I persevered; I kept trying, after all the ethics lecturer at Melbourne Medical School had warned my class,

"There's a type of woman around who'll want more than a medical massage and most of you are likely to have one on your massage table every couple of years." Gordy had adviser 'every two years is too long mate, you need to shorten the odds and the time by checking in any woman who's a bit tasty.'

Jill was about forty-five. A short-haired, blonde with a slightly dumpy body. Nice face though I'd reckoned on first meeting her, immediately putting her into the 'worth a try' category.

I'd given her strained upper thigh muscle some faradic and ultra-heat treatment and as usual and proper with muscular problems, was finishing the session off with a massage. As is common with upper leg damage the pain was also in her back meaning that she had to be naked apart from her panties. The slight tear in her thigh muscle was on the outside but nearer to the front so she was lying on her back. I'd draped one towel across her middle and another across her boobs and was working on the muscle. Although a little heavy her legs weren't that bad and under the top towel there seemed to be quite a lot of flesh although I hadn't yet had even a glimpse of any of it. The towel though, rather promisingly, had slipped a little so that almost but not quite, the tips of her nipples were on display. I'd pondered on how to move it from almost, but not quite to something more visually impactful, but hadn't yet come up with anything.

As she laid there her eyes closed I remembered Gordy's words and lightened the massage on the inside of her thigh. Nothing, no reaction at all. 'Bugger it' I thought resuming the proper massage on the outside of her leg.

"How's the massage Jill?

"Er fine, its fine thanks."

"Not too deep and heavy is it?

"No I don't mind it deep," she replied making me smile at the unplanned, I assumed, double entendre.

"Really?" I said letting my voice go higher towards the end of the question.

I saw her smile before she replied. "The massage that is?"

"Of course, whatever else?" I responded quite jauntily.

As I said that for some reason I turned my hand over and ran the back of my nails up the inside of her thigh from just above her knee to almost the edge of the towel that was about six inches down from her crotch.

Shit was that a jerk? Was that a sharp intake of breath? Had her eyes close more tightly. Had her hands gripped the edge of the bed?

I ran them back down and massaged where the triceps meet the ligaments just above the kneecap as I contemplated what to do next. What to do about two things? Firstly testing the waters further and secondly hiding the fucking great hard on that had reared up in my tight tracky trousers. Looking down at her I saw that the top towel had moved a little more and I felt encouraged that she hadn't pulled it up to cover more of her evidently quite large boobs as she could easily have done. The view of the nipples was still almost, but not as not quite, as previously.

I did the same thing again with my fingernails but this time I let my hand brush against the edge of the towel. Not lifting it or moving it or anything quite as obvious as that but just enough so that Jill would have felt me touch it.

The tightening in her leg was so obvious to my trained hands, but I couldn't be sure whether that was from sexual arousal or from my nails tickling her. I had to test further to be sure. Mistakes of this nature just couldn't happen

Leaving my right hand where it was, resting on her thigh just a couple of inches from her panties I said, "Here let me put this back," as with my other hand I took hold of the towel covering her boobs. "It seems to have slipped," I went on pulling it very slowly up and over her breasts thinking that the material dragging across her nipples would be an extra sensation for her.

Her reply gave me a little more confirming information that she was feeling something for her. "Thanks" was delivered in a tight voice that raised my hopes considerably. I still kept my other hand where it had been for a few seconds now with my fingers pressing into the slightly flabby inside of her thigh.

"There," I went on. "That's better Jill, all ship shape and Bristol fashion now."

She smiled at the referral to Bristol that I had only recently learned was cockney rhyming slang, Bristol City = titty. I hadn't meant it like that but was pleased that she took it that way.

"Yes," she said her voice still tight and to my ambitious ear maybe a little croaky as well.

I slowly slid my fingers down her thigh and back to her knee determined now to push this as far as I could. I didn't bother with massaging her knee again but repeated the upward movement this time with my fingertips. Slowly, so slowly I watched my fingers inch up her leg until they reached the towel. I stopped with my hand pressing against it and looked at her face for signs of approval or rejection and was pleased that her head had rolled a little to one side and that her eyes were still tightly closed. Things looked promising, but I still wasn't certain. I stopped with my hand again just a few inches from her panties pressing against the edge of the towel and into her flesh. I pushed a little harder into the flesh. I slowly rotated my fingers in a tiny circle. This was so obviously now not a massage for the pressure I was applying was more that of a gentle, loving caress than that of a medical massage. I heard the low, almost inaudible gasp, I saw her head roll further and I felt her thigh muscle tighten

That she was aroused I was sure. What I didn't know, though, was whether she was trying to resist giving into it or whether she wanted more. Either way it seemed to me that I couldn't lose.

Keeping my right hand exactly where it had now been for over a minute I guessed, I placed my left hand on the long muscle that runs up the outside of the top of the leg. I placed all four fingers and thumb on it just above Jill's knee. Then slowly and fairly firmly I moved it upwards. Along the indented part just above the knee, onto the fuller thicker part half way between her knee and hip and then onto long expanse of muscle that runs almost up to the waist. Still softly rotating the fingers of the other hand on that spot on the inside of her thigh just a few inches from her panty covered pussy, I ran the spreaded fingers of my other hand up and up and up. It went under the towel, it went onto her hip bone and I felt the elastic of the leg hole of her panties. They were smooth and silky. I moved it further taking the towel with it as I slid my fingers across the side of her panties and onto the edge of her pelvis.

"Oooooo," my eager ear heard. "Aaaargh," I heard even more encouragingly as the towel slid from her to reveal the stylish satin knickers cut quite acutely from her crotch to the waistband. I saw a few straggling pubes poking out from the elastic round her legs. Her eyes were now screwed together so tightly, her mouth had dropped open and her head rolled unashamedly now from side to side.

My heart started to pound. 'I'm in, I'm only fuckingwell in' I thought as with no further hesitation I moved my right hand. It covered those few inches from where it had been caressing her inner thigh to where I so wanted it to be and, hopefully, from Jill's reactions, where she also wanted it to be. I pressed right against her lips. I moved my fingers searching through the satin covered folds of her pussy for that bud that has only one purpose, sexual satisfaction. I must have found it for suddenly her whole body jerked and she arched her back a little. That made the towel on the top of her body slide away from her. Now, the almost but not quite became completely and all for her deep, red, almost brown nipples burst into view. They were enormous both in the diameter of the areolae and the height of the nipple in the centre that was clearly hardened to its fullest.

"This ok?" I grunted making little circular movements with my fingers around her clitoris. "Or you want me to stop?"

"No, no," she groaned quickly. "Don't stop."

I needed no further signs, signals or invitations. I reached out with my left hand and grasped a handful of her sizeable, though rather saggy right tit. I squeezed the flesh and my fingers circled the big, hard nipple. As I pinched that the moan that came out of her mouth sounded so sexy and her whole body jerked. She placed her hand on mine pushing it more firmly against her boob. With my other hand I stroked her a little more firmly now all round her clit and along each of her lips.

I got excited. I wanted more, I wanted to see and touch more of her body. Quickly I reached up and grabbed the elastic waist band of her, rather pretty I thought, knickers and, roughly almost, yanked them down so that the waist was part way down her chubby thighs. The gusset, though, presumably due it being wet, got stuck to her lips. That didn't matter, though, for all of her quite hairy mound and juicy cunt were now clearly on sight to me.

This was my just reward I thought. My payment for the evident sexual pleasure I was giving her. I didn't hesitate. I waited no longer. With a feeling of such excitement that after all this time my dream was really happening I straightened my hand, I bunched my fingers, and I withdrew them a little. Then without another moment's thought I plunged three fingers right up her cunt.

"Oh God," she moaned in between a series of deep, almost animal sounding grunts. Her hand gripped her breast. Her white, painted, quite long fingernails dug into the soft flesh. Her back arched and her bum came off the table as she pushed back against me.

I finger fucked her like that as she quickly and, worryingly quite loudly shuddered to a surprisingly strong orgasm. It seemed to arrive very quickly, rapidly reach its crescendo then fade away almost as quickly as it had erupted.

"Jesus," she breathed a slight smile on her face as she opened her eyes. I removed my fingers from her. "Bloody hell, phew," she went on as she let go of her breast. "You do that to all your female clients?

"No, no, of course not, just the pretty ones that want it" I beamed back at her.

She didn't seem all that embarrassed laying there, her panties round her thighs, her tits bare having just been finger fucked by her physio.

"Was it ok?" I asked.

"It was fucking tremendous, thanks," she replied very confidently.

I couldn't help smiling at the profuse way she said that. "You're most welcome, I enjoyed it."

She sat up, pulled her panties back into place, turned, dangled her legs over the side of the table and sat there topless. Her tits were big and they did sag and in that position the spare tyre round her stomach was far more pronounced than it had been lying down. Having said all that there was an attraction to her, she was pretty and had lovely hair. Whether I would have fancied her if I'd met her in a club or something I wasn't that sure, but hey what the hell she'd been up for it and we'd both had a good time. That's what sex is supposed to be about isn't it?

We still had a few of the forty five minutes allotted to the session left and we chatted. She said things about how terrible I must think she is and she didn't know what came over her and I said the same about me adding the rider that I didn't make a habit of it.

"Well perhaps you should," she said smiling at me. "What do I owe you for the, er, extra service?"

"Nothing."

"What?"

"You don't owe me anything, it was my pleasure, I can't charge for that."

"Oh I think you could" Jill said placing her hand on my arm. "And quite frankly I think you should."

"Yes maybe I should, but it's awfully risky, get it wrong and it's the end of my career isn't it."

"Well you just have to find women that want it and wouldn't complain don't you?"

"Oh yeah like there's loads of them queuing up for such a service isn't there?"

She looked right into my eyes and held my gaze for a moment or two as if thinking.

"Actually Brad yes I think there are you know."

"Really?"

"Yes you'd be surprised at how many women around my age and older there are that need some form of er, um, relief."

"You amaze me," I said wondering where this was going as she went on,

"And especially from a good looking and intelligent young guy like you."

"Well thanks," I replied, almost blushing. "But I'm a physio not a gigolo," I laughed.

"No reason you couldn't be both. I know a few girls that would use your service and pay well for it and might then recommend others."

"What married women who just want a bit extra as you had?"

"Well yes, but also maybe even more."

I was finding this interesting and frankly very exciting as we sat there so calmly talking about such an intimate subject just moments after I'd fulfilled one of my ambitions and also one of my dreads. 'Maybe' I thought. 'This could be the answer to getting the sex that was now becoming such a driving force and avoiding the risk.'

"What you mean full sex?" I asked.

"Yes possibly. I think there are women around who want a straightforward fuck" she said in a very matter of fact way as we stared at each other. I was beginning to wonder if that was what she wanted as she went on. "It's not for me, I got what I wanted and needed thank you very much, but there are those who want an uncomplicated, no strings quickie now and then and don't want the mess and problems of an affair."

"Well that's impossible here."

"Yes I guess it is but nevertheless they'd also pay for what we did I'm sure. I could send a couple along if you like."

*

"Jill Chapman said I should see you" the petite, slim, champagne blonde said as I went into the consulting room. She was propped up against the edge of the massage table the white towelling, mid-calf length dressing gown gaping a little at the lapels and falling apart just above her knees that were poking through the gap.

I was surprised for I'd heard nothing from Jill since she'd been here a week or so ago.

"Oh yes Jill, I remember," I replied a little flustered, but my hopes soaring as I took in the possibilities of her recommendation.

I glanced at the record card completed by the receptionist and saw that Phillipa was fifty two. I had never been with a woman that old and I was very impressed at how well preserved she was and what a good figure she had.

"What appears to be the problem?" I asked glancing at the medical record again. "Oh yes lower back pain." Glancing up I saw the twinkle in her eye as she said. "Well yes, but also a rather under active husband as well."

I couldn't help smiling at the assured way she gave me the indication that she probably wanted the same as I'd given Jill.

"So massage is it?" I asked.

"Mmmmm yes please" she cooed.

Without really thinking I suggested what I would with a 'normal' client.

"Ok while I pop out and get a few things would you like to lie on your front and just undo the robe please."

My usual practice with women, irrespective of their age, size and fanciability was to leave them as they got onto the table. Before starting any treatment I would then roll the dressing gown down to her waist, grabbing a glance at her flattened tits if she was in the fanciable category before covering her back and her dressing gown covered bum and legs with a large, warm towel or two. If I was not sexually interested I would then pull the dressing gown off without looking under the towel. If she was of interest I would manage to lift the towel after I removed her robe to get a look at her bum and panties, which very occasionally and excitingly were a thong.

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