3 Crushes and a Wedding Ch. 06

"Hah, lucky. Ok then."

"Ok?" Her eyebrows shot up.

"You have my consent, and whatever other things you were going on about. You can touch me wherever you want."

She cocked a single eyebrow this time. "Wherever?"

"Where...ever." I winked.

She blushed and her nose crinkled. "This is starting to feel like the start of a porn scene."

"Add a few moans and groans and we're there," I started laughing but my snicker got stuck in my throat when I saw her expression shift from simple fun to flaming seduction. I'd seen her cross that line seamlessly a few times already, but it still took me by surprise.

She approached me and leaned into my ear. Her white tank, and everything underneath it, was only a few inches away from my face. Where did my saliva go?

She started slow, but her intentions were clear from the beginning. I will never forget the sounds she made then, nor the way my whole body instantly became nothing but a hyper tense string that she flicked and played to perfection.

"Ah."

Her warm breath spread across my skin, from the upper curve of my ear to the base of my neck, but its effect reached further, all the way up to the top of my head and down to the hollow of my back.

Goosebumps. Everywhere.

So she was doing this now? She was going to enact a porn scene's worth of moans and groans straight into my ears? Heaven help me and the tiny string that was protecting my pussy.

"Ah."

Her raspy voice caressed my inner ear, snuck into my brain, and got amplified through every nerve ending, reverberating against the empty walls of my skull. Nothing in my head existed except that sound.

"Aaaah!"

The slightly longer groan came from her guts, raw and unpolished, but pure and carnal. If I could hear that cry every day, I'd be the happiest person on earth.

"Uhmmmm-uhhhh-hmmmm."

I tried in vain to collect myself after that moan, but I could barely even collect the wetness that was pooling between my inner folds. That tiny spa string stood no chance.

"Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!"

The staccato of those cries set my heart on a faster rhythm. I was following her lead now, my breathing quickening as hers sped up, shallow as hers became shorter, louder as hers vibrated around us.

She paused for a few seconds. I didn't find respite in the silence that followed. Instead, my body quivered in anticipation, as if I was staring into the abyss and getting ready for the rush before bungee-jumping.

Then I felt it.

Her slow exhale started as a soft tickle against my neck then propagated like wildfire to my fingers, toes, and every hair on my body. I wasn't prepared for the way something as simple as her breath on my skin would make me feel. Hot, smooth, electric, and lingering. I was in a state of trance. Every molecule in my body trembled, but I was laying still. How???

When her final moan hit, guttural and powerful, it felt like it was coming from the deepest nooks of my own body too.

"Aaaa-aaaa-aaaa-aaah."

My throat vibrated and I shuddered to that same rhythm. Not once had I come this close to cumming without a single physical contact. One light flick over my clit, maybe even nipple, and I'd be done. It's a miracle I didn't grab her and kiss her then.

"Hmmmm."

She finally sighed of fake — but somehow very genuine — relief against my ear. It felt like a part of me had been released too.

I couldn't begin to comprehend how such a series of faux-sex moans had stirred me this much. Taken out of context, those sounds would've been crude, like a fake and badly-synced porn audio. Yet somehow, and for some mystical reason no one could explain, she managed to make them sound sexy and authentic.

I hadn't realized I'd closed my eyes and tuned off the world until she walked away from me. The sensory deprivation and void she left were suddenly too much. I opened my eyes to see her looking at me and grinning proudly. Minx. The indecision and shyness she'd shown just a few minutes earlier were nowhere to be seen, now buried under the naughty sparkle of her eyes and the playful dance of her eyebrows.

"Too much?" She winked.

"Yes," I gulped as I spotted the outlines of her erect nipples below her white tank. Yum. "But also not nearly enough." My voice sounded coarser than hers for once.

She shrugged. "I only negotiated half an hour with your masseuse, so..." her eyes swept over my lying body, lingering over a few key areas, then she bit her lip, "not nearly enough."

Damn. Bite me like that, Meg.

"Alright then, let's get to it! Gotta use this time productively." And just like magic, she turned off her seductive mode and went back to the sweet and fun Megan.

I wanted to tell her that we'd already produced a few things, namely a big pool of wetness on my tiny string, but I kept my mouth shut and lowered my face on the headrest. My turn in teasing her would come soon.

She approached me a second later. "I seem to recall you telling me I could touch you everywhere..." She slid the towel to reveal my back, all the way down to my waist. "You're hiding some key areas, but..." she pushed my hair away from my neck, lightly grazing my skin and sending goosebumps into my entire back for the umpteenth time, "...this'll do," she whispered.

I sensed a strange feeling first, then heat spread between my shoulder blades. The hot oil. It trickled down the hollow of my back, following my spine's line. Her first real touch came after, tentative and delicate. She started on my spine and moved outward on my right side, spreading the oil with two fingers. After a U-turn, they were back on my spine, taking some oil with them and descending to my left side, the one closer to her. She kneaded my shoulders and back with expertise and ease for several minutes, stopping every now and then to focus on some problematic areas.

"You're tense."

"These last few days haven't been simple." I chose the truth.

"Is it because of me? Or... us? The crushes from your past?"

Despite my assurances in our text message exchange the night before, there was still a hint of apprehension and vigilance in her tone.

"I never imagined I'd have to deal with all of it in a weekend." Truth again. "It's been stressful, yes, but I couldn't be happier about the outcome." Her hand was on my lower back, I reached out with mine and grabbed it. I squeezed. The outcome was her, she had to know it was her, she had to be sure about that.

She squeezed back. "Me too, Zoe, me too."

We unlocked our hands and she continued her massage, moving up on my back and towards my sides. This time, she let her fingers venture a little further down to my side then turned and went back up again. I hissed. Her only reaction was to repeat the movement and bring her whole hand sideways instead of just her fingers, curving further and further into my side until she was firmly in side-boob territory. A short groan escaped me, then there were suddenly two hands on me, each one stroking a side and crossing the line every now and then between innocent back rub and erotic massage.

One particular time she dug into my skin with more force and let her fingernails graze the sides of my chest, very nearly missing my nipples, then trailed all the way up to my spine and neck. I bit my lip and tried to stifle a moan, but I'm sure she heard it.

Paradoxically, my body and brain relaxed under her knowledgeable touch, but it was that state of aroused relaxation that only she knew how to trigger in me. I floated freely while also eagerly anticipating every dip of her hands toward my chest, craving a bit more contact, but knowing we didn't have enough time to enjoy it as we should.

If this was only our second mini-date, I couldn't imagine what a full evening with her would be like. A vivid vision of me on all fours, her behind me, riding deep inside me, while her powerful hands dug into my sides then wrapped around to flick my nipples floated in my eyes. Calm down, Zoe, this is not helping. Think of something else.

"So how did you manage to convince..." I started asking then had to pause and swallow a whimper, "...the masseuse to let you assault a spa client?"

Her voice came in, raspy and naughty, as if she was grinning and fighting to hide it. "I told her you were my girlfriend and it's your birthday, and that I've been taking some massage lessons and wanted to surprise you. And when she still wouldn't let me, I had to beg a bit."

"It was well worth it."

"Uh-hmm," she moved down to my lower back and pushed her fingers just a teeny bit underneath the towel, grazing the hem of my string. The woman clearly knew what she was doing, and was taking advantage of every stroke.

"So... girlfriend?!"

She had now replaced the sideway strokes with up and down kneading movements. Her fingers dug in my neck while her palms pushed against my shoulder blades. "That didn't escape you, huh?"

"Not to be presumptuous, but I... uh... I like the sound of it," I whispered, hoping I wasn't over-stepping, and fearing she'd run for the hills at the mere mention of something serious.

"I like the sound of it too."

My heart summersaulted at her admission. She must have taken my morning plea to heart and was really willing to give us a shot. The apprehensions about her ability to build a real relationship were still there, for both of us, but she seemed to at least entertain the idea — a big step forward compared to the way she coiled back at the mere mention of a relationship the night before.

I lifted my head and turned toward her; she met my eyes. We looked at each other for a few seconds, her eyes both calm and electric, and smiled together. I spotted a hint of her dimples. I didn't need her to say anything, this was enough.

I lowered my head back and chuckled. "I won't tell if you won't tell."

She pushed her hands lower this time, smoothly slipping over the string and reaching the tops of my rounded butt cheeks. A little squeeze from her, a whimper from me. A knead from her, a needy groan from me. A bit of fingernail dragging from her, a muffled cry from me.

"So how do we celebrate this?"

"Come to the wedding as my date," the words were out before I could overthink them. I just knew I had to ask her; to hell with being cautious!

"Isn't that too early?" Her voice sounded more teasing than dubious.

"And this isn't?" I wiggled my butt under her expert hands.

"Hah, valid point." She gave me another squeeze and rubbed up to my neck again.

"So?"

"Yes, I will."

I nearly turned and leapt into her arms. Instead, I smiled shyly to myself and felt my heart burst inside me. How could she make me feel like a giddy teenager falling in love for the first time?

"It'll be our third mini-date," she mused, more to herself than me, as she dragged the towel to cover the upper half of my body and revealed my full legs. Then she dropped some hot oil on my thighs.

The implications of her last sentence didn't escape either of us.

"We said we'd set our own rhythm, didn't we? Third date or not, we'll only do what feels right."

"K."

I had just began wondering what that 'K' meant when she started massaging high up my thighs, nearly too high. Then her hands nudged my feet apart. The hot oil felt like lava as it glided against my inner thighs, but it wasn't nearly as hot as the two fingers she slipped there.

I shrieked and instinctively pushed my legs together, trapping her digits right next to where I'd dreamed they'd touch me.

"Meg... Wh... What..." I couldn't formulate a full sentence. What... what?! What are you doing? I knew the answer. What do you want to do? I knew that as well. What is happening? Surely it was obvious.

She laughed. She just laughed, naughtily.

"I'm just doing what feels right, like you said. And this feels very, very right, doesn't it?" I didn't have to see her to guess the teasing look on her face then.

"Mmmm." That was the most eloquent answer I could find.

And just like that, her fingers curled up and pushed into the tiny fabric of my string. The jolt of pleasure was slightly subdued by this material barrier between us. I cursed myself for having worn it, but she didn't seem to mind.

"I thought... we-we didn't have... uh... enough time," I barely squeezed out, flustered.

"Doesn't seem like you'll need much time," her innocent tone betrayed a wide grin.

Is it weird that I could tell all of her moods and expressions by just listening to her voice? Not really. We'd only reconnected two days ago, but it was like riding a bicycle, I guess. I knew her, in an innate, primal way. I just knew her.

Her fingers pinched and snapped the fabric, further proving the point that I was very ready and all lubed up.

I moaned. Thank God my face was still buried in the massage table, because I was beet red at this point. She was really doing this, wasn't she? And I had no plans whatsoever to stop her. Sure, I would've expected a classier setting for our first sexy encounter, but our story had plenty of preludes and nothing of the traditional romance so far, so why change it now? If she was going to take me for the first time on a massage table, while I was lying helpless at her mercy, then so be it. I'd lie still and let her have her way with me, and I'd be the happiest woman on Earth.

As her fingers looked for the edge of the string, I felt another hand on my ribcage. I briefly suspected she might be using it for balance, but that thought dissipated when she dropped her palm and fingers down to my side. Then, simultaneously, one set of fingers slipped into the bikini and onto my clit, while the other wiggled between the table and my chest, finding my achingly hard nipple and squeezing it.

I shrieked even louder than the first time. My skin lit and burned and vibrated with each of those contacts.

"Shhhhh," she giggled and started playing with my two buttons at the same time.

"It's not fair!" I huffed. A moan used the opportunity to escape my mouth after that.

"I can stop," she said and instantly ceased her ministrations.

"Don't... Please."

Her fingers went back to work in tandem, two rolling my nipple, two circling my clit, all four playing me expertly and deftly.

It all felt divine and devilish, an irresistibly titillating combo. I buried my face further into the massage table and tried, without much success, to swallow my moans and cries. My hands and fingernails dug into the table's cushy cover, my body tensed up, pushing my knees and toes down and lifting my midsection ever so slightly off the table.

That gave her fingers the tiniest of openings to adjust their grip. With even more dexterity and virtuosity, she played my buttons like radio knobs, adjusting the frequency of my whimpers to her liking, slowing down then intensifying the sensation as she saw fit. She toyed with my nerve endings, creating a short circuit between my pussy and nipple where rapture flowed back and forth, continuously and unendingly. The pleasure built and built in a crescendo of shudders and pulsations, coursing through me until I was so tense I might've shattered like a super thin layer of glass.

That's when she took her fingers off my clit. I whimpered my disapproval, but she laughed.

"So impatient." She teased my opening and slipped her fingers into me. "This better?"

My groan was as clear an answer as I could give. She started pumping, curling, and tapping until the sloshing symphony of her fingers in my pussy became too deafening, and the surge of pleasure too much to handle.

"Cum for me," she whispered after leaning into my ear.

Kaboom!

Colors. How was I seeing colors with my eyes closed?

And stars. How could there be dancing stars inside my eyelids?

And fireworks. How were they exploding on my retina without burning me?

I thrashed and shivered, waves of pleasure overtaking my body, from my skin to my inner core. Inward, outward, crashing into each other, relentless.

She kept twisting my nipple and tapping on my G-spot, masterfully extending my orgasm, forcing me to ride as high as I could for as long as my body could tolerate, until I crashed figuratively and literally back on the massage table, heaving and breathless.

A few flicks of my buttons followed, artfully spaced out so they'd make me jerk and keep me on edge. Fucking tease!

I slowly started breathing again, but couldn't place a word just yet.

"Hello Misses," the unexpected voice with a latin accent made me jolt and look up toward the door. Someone had just walked in. Now?! Now of all times?! The masseuse, the real one.

Megan's fingers quickly slid out of me and found more appropriate places to touch me. Good thing she had her back to the door, and her body had hid what was happening. The masseuse didn't seem to suspect anything, but I still prayed that she hadn't heard my cries and that she wouldn't smell me once she got close.

Megan pretended to rub my thighs and calves one last time, then patted my legs. The aftershocks of my orgasm still rippled through me, making each of her touches feel like a bolt of electricity. "Just on time," she looked at my terrified face and winked, "I'm done with this side, and I think she's pretty relaxed for you to take over."

Devil. Brilliant devil. I'd have my vengeance sooner or later.

"Perfect," the masseuse glanced at the remaining oil and quickly decided she needed more. "I hope you enjoyed this birthday surprise from your girlfriend," she said while filling up the bowl and microwaving it again.

Enjoyed... Did she just use that verb? Of course I enjoyed it. It was more than either of us had signed up for or anticipated, but it was absolute bliss.

I was still floating, my thoughts barely forming a coherent string. So I smiled and nodded, fearing my post-orgasm voice would betray me, and buried my head in the headrest again. I sensed Megan leave her spot beside me and come stand near my head. Her turquoise toenails were once again visible, but it was her hand that snuck underneath the table and invaded my vision. The right hand, the one that had been buried inside me only a few seconds ago. It smelled of rose-scented oil mixed with my own tangy and sweet juices. Intoxicating.

"Oh, she loved it!" She emphasized the verb, while her index and middle finger, the same ones she'd just rubbed and fucked me with, found their way to my lips. She coated me with the slick mix and, as soon as I parted my lips, she slipped her digits inside my mouth. I lapped up the raunchy blend, a fusion of eroticism and deliciousness. My senses went into overload again. The smell, the taste, the feel of her finger in my mouth, everything was so perfect. And so perfectly smutty. And so smuttily her.

"Good, now you know you have a massage service at home!" The masseuse exclaimed, unaware of what was happening a few feet away from her beneath the table.

The microwave beeped just as Megan was trying to extricate her fingers from my mouth and I was biting to keep them inside. She eventually won and withdrew them.

"I'll leave you in expert hands," a small rub on my back followed, and Megan started walking away. I instinctively lifted my head to see her, she turned around and pinched her lips for a kiss — ugh, I still needed to taste those. "Try not to enjoy the second half as much as the first one," she winked and laughed, naughtier than ever with her double-entendres. And with that, she opened the door and walked out.

Megan. Ray of sunshine Megan, now with a whole new spicy side I'd never seen before. How could I resist that? I was gone. Smitten. I'd long been lost to her green eyes and raspy voice and aqua smell, but I was now even more infatuated with the devilish angel she'd revealed herself to be.

***

About an hour later, I got off the elevator, still floating in the bliss of the massages (both the naughty version with Meg and the regular one with my masseuse) and the hot shower that followed. I rounded the corner toward my hotel room and nearly froze in place.