Anything Goes Pt. 05

What I'm going to share with you in this chapter is based entirely from Hannah's later telling of what occurred during her appointment. In saying that, it is entirely possible that details may have been embellished or left out. I am relying on her perception and retelling of what happened. I have no reason to doubt her, but this was quite a big step forward. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

From my perspective, I was a big mess throughout the entire time from when she left me to when I saw her again. She completely fucked with me by leaving me with that smut filled Kindle that put all kinds of things in my head. Again, full acknowledgement here that she was now fully in control.

Her story:

Hannah made her way back to the hotel, back through the pool area. She could feel the many eyes on her. Did any of them know what she was heading to do? Did anyone suspect? Her head was dizzy with all the thoughts spinning around inside.

But then something that she really couldn't explain cut through and, as if a fog suddenly lifted, she saw him. A large, muscular black man with a bald head and tight beard had apparently just put down the newspaper he was reading as he caught notice of Hannah while he had been turning pages. Their eyes met. A connection. He smiled at her, pearly white teeth glistening brightly in contrast to his deep chocolate skin. His broad, muscular chest and thick arms were bare.

Hannah blushed and then had to suddenly stop herself. He had distracted her so much she almost plowed into an older Jewish man who was walking her.

"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!"

"Oh my indeed, little lady. Are you alright?" he asked her out of genuine concern, but likely also to extend their discussion by the looks of his glance down her body.

"Yes, just distracted, I guess. Again, so sorry."

"Not a problem my dear. We didn't actually collide after all. Pity. Say, has anyone ever told you that you look a bit like a cross between Audrey Hepburn and Julie Adams?"

Hannah screwed her face up a bit as she tried to think, "Julie Adams?"

"Yeah, you might know her as the woman from The Creature from the Black Lagoon."

"Oh? Ok, yeah, I know her. Huh, yeah, I guess I could see that. Such a sweet thing to say."

She could kind of see what he was saying. I mean, no one really thinks they look like who people say they do, but she should see the elements that were similar.

"Oh, geez, the time," Hannah said looking at her watch. "I need to go. Have a good day."

"How could I not? I'm in Hawaii and I nearly bumped into you," the old man said with a sweetly dirty little smile.

As she went to continue on her way past the man, she glanced back one time in the direction of the man who had so distracted her. He was no longer there. Of course her interaction with the older Jewish man left her distracted enough he easily could have gotten up and left without any real hurry.

She went into the hotel and quickly got to the elevator. The door opened and the couple inside, a younger honeymooning pair they rode over on the ground transportation with, stepped out very into their own world. She let them by and then stepped into the elevator. She pressed the button for the fifth floor and then stepped back from the panel as one other person stepped into the elevator with her.

It was him. The man she saw reading the newspaper by the pool. He had put a short sleeve button down Hawaiian shirt in a very light pattern over his top but hadn't buttoned it up. The paper he had been reading tucked under his left arm. The noticeably pink paper gave away that it was The Financial Times.

"Top floor, please."

The request shocked her out of her deep thoughts.

"Oh, sure," she said as she selected the top floor on the panel.

He was being polite by not reaching across her. She appreciated that thoughtfulness might have come from both good upbringing but also from lived experiences as a strong black man.

The ride to her floor was brief, but she definitely felt the aura of this man and she could smell him, an unoffensive muskiness with a hint of something slightly spicy. Was it Chai?

The elevator pinged and the doors opened to her floor.

As she left silently, she heard him say, "Have a nice day" behind her.

She turned to reply but found the doors had already closed.

She strode the remainder of the way to her door when it suddenly came back to her- she had mere minutes to prepare for a sensual massage her husband has scheduled for her. And he had given her carte blanche to do whatever she desired.

Hannah hurried through the door once she unlocked it and went about preparing herself. A quick bodily refresh with a wet, soapy washcloth happened very fast but not fast enough as a knock came at her door. She took a deep breath and walked to the door wearing only the short light white robe provided by the hotel having removed her yellow bikini during her body wash.

She opened the door to a slender man of average height who had skin like a rich caramel. His facial gave Hannah the impression that he might have been of both Polynesian and African heritage, definitely reinforced by his skin tone. He gave her a confidant smile.

"Mrs. Steward?" he asked, confirming he had come to the correct room.

"Oh, yes. Come on in. But please, call me Hannah. Mrs. Steward is my mother-in-law."

He laughed a pleasing deep chuckle.

"Right-o, Hannah. As you say."

He carried in a folding massage table and began to scan the room.

"Do you have a preference for where I should set up my table? In my experience with these rooms, over by the window gives me the most room and you won't be under the air conditioning vent. We can leave the curtains open or closed as you desire."

As you desire. Her stomach dropped a bit as she heard this. It reminded her of why he was here and what her husband instructed her.

"Umm, yes, I trust your recommendation."

Sensing her nervousness, Tré spoke up as he began setting up his table with efficiency of a very experienced masseur.

"So hey, Hannah. I just want you to know that absolutely nothing will occur in this room that you don't explicitly want. May I take a guess that your husband made this appointment for you?"

Clearing her suddenly dry throat lightly, Hannah replied, "Yes" a little more meekly than she intended.

"Ah, right. And maybe he suggested you allow me to do some things that you wouldn't normally consider. 'Vacation doesn't count' rules, right?"

"Yes. Something like that."

"Ok. No need to worry. This is my specialty. I know how to treat you right and I am extremely responsive to what is working for you and as I said I'll do nothing that you do not want me to. You are in incredibly safe hands. If you weren't, no hotel in the world would book me to service their guests. My reputation is my most precious business asset."

"Sure. That makes sense."

"Alright. My table is ready. I have laid out two sheets. I'm going to turn around until you tell me to and you can disrobe to your comfort. Understanding that the less you wear, the more access I have to areas you might be interested in me working on. But that alone does not give me any kind of unspoken consent. Lie face down, placing your face in the circular pillow, and pull the top sheet over yourself as you wish. This is for your comfort in regards to temperature. Are we good?"

"Yes. Thank you, Tré. I understand."

He turned around as he said and Hannah moved towards the table. She was still facing in his direction and as she reached for the robe's belt, she noticed that due to the placement of a full body mirror on the far wall, he could see her despite turning around. He got a smirk on his face after getting caught, but recognizing the silliness of him turning around in the first place, she forgave his little deception. It's not like he wasn't about to see her in naked in a matter of a few minutes. She then choose to throw all caution to the wind. She undid the belt fully and just dropped the robe to the floor, baring herself completely while staring him defiantly.

'If you want to look, then look. Like what you see?' she thought to herself.

Hannah was not typically an egotistical person, but beautiful people know they are attractive to others. She suspected she would have been one of the more attractive clients this man has had.

After having given him a good long look, she laid herself face down on the table but didn't pull the sheet over herself.

"I'm ready for you now."

Tré turned around and regained his composure and professionalism. But it looked like it hard to.

He walked up to Hannah and she felt his presence. She'd noticed the tattoos on his arms. Nearly full sleeves, but nothing too garish. Some tribal patterns and abstract shapes it looked like. She liked tattoos.

He talked her through the early stages of the basic massage, meant to relax and comfort more than seriously work the muscles. He did work out a few small knots, but nothing significant and certainly not to a point he'd have her feel any pain. It was a warm up.

As he rubbed her back and sides, his fingertips grazed the sides of her breasts. He paid special attention to the hands and the feet, rubbing especially areas that were connected to her erogenous zones.

He rubbed her head and ran his fingers through her hair, and rubbing down to her neck. His touches became more like caresses and less therapeutic.

He softly asked her if she was ok with him rubbing her rear. She responded with a weak, "Yes."

He hands touched her cheeks with a firm but still gentle squeeze. Hannah bet many guy she met would love to squeeze her butt cheeks like that. If she wasn't already getting wet from the feel of his touches, that squeeze put her over the edge. He began to more earnestly massage her butt and hips. There was a point when his hands were pulling down on her hips that she envisioned him pounding her from behind while holding on like he was.

Oh yes, this was working well on her.

Then he leaned in to her and whispered in her ear, "It's time to turn over. Would you like a sheet?"

"No. I'm ok," she replied in a breathy voice.

Hannah turned over exposing herself fully to this strange man.

He looked her in the eyes, both resisting the desire to look across her prone body and daring her a bit.

"Mrs. Steward... Hannah... some clients like it at this point for me to remove my own shirt. Would you like me to take my shirt off?"

Hannah bit her lower lip and nodded.

Tré removed his shirt in one quick, obviously practiced move. He wasn't overtly muscled, but he was definitely well defined. He was bare of any chest hair, so she guessed he must shave. His arm tattoos continued across his chest and torso, displaying intricate designs.

The masseur looked down her body. It was obvious he liked what he saw. Her skin was very pale, definitely in contrast to his caramel coloring. Hannah's mid-sized breasts still had some perk to them despite lying on her back. They weren't so heavy that they drooped to her sides much. She had pretty pronounced nipples for a childless woman and her areolas were not bigger than a quarter. She had significant bush of pubic hair towards the top, but she kept her mons shaved bare so it looked a bit like an arrow of hair pointing to her special place. Her vulva was neat, not a lot of excess inner lips and her outer lips were normally a tight slit, but not now. Her outer lips were opening and the moisture on her inner lips was noticeable. Her arousal at the situation was obvious.

Hannah was about to feel awkward being on display in the silence when Tré move to touch her. First he gently caressed her right calf using lightest touch that could still be considered rubbing. As he worked up her thigh, the proximity of this handsome strangers hand rubbing so close to her exposed pussy was extremely exciting. It felt like she was about to literally drip her lubricating juices for him to see.

He moved to the left calf, moving his hands away from being so close to her pussy made her moan out loud slightly. She might have been embarrassed if she did know this was exactly the response he was working to get out of her. Still, she didn't like the power that gave him. He worked up her left leg to her thigh and one especially high caress allowed his pinky to graze her pussy slightly. The electricity that went through her body at that lightest of touches was intense.

He quickly moved off of her leg and moved around to be above her head. As he leaned across her to massage both of her arms she noticed for the first time that he was quite hard. The bulge in his shorts seemed impressive. She loved having the power of causing a man to become erect.

She looked up and saw him looking at her, catching her glancing at his shorts. As he pulled her arms up so they were above her head his said softly, "If you want to remove them, it's up to you."

This was a pretty critical moment. Right now those shorts felt like the only barrier between them being more intimate than just a flirty, sensual massage. She was thankful that he was letting her be in control of removing that barrier.

"I want to. But, to be honest, I feel a little awkward about what might come next considering my husband has paid you money," she admitted to him.

He began rubbing her torso, seeming to come as close to her breasts as he could without actually touching them.

"I get that. But ask yourself this: do you really think I wouldn't gladly do anything I could to get you in this position even if I wasn't being paid to do so? You're an amazing woman, Hannah. It's still your choice and it doesn't necessitate forward progress."

Hannah nodded understanding and found her hands to be on his shorts, gripping the fabric. She hadn't pulled them down yet, still pausing as she weighed what it might mean. She was on this journey to please her husband as much as it might please herself. He wasn't here. Was it a mistake to leave him out of this moment? It felt right at the time, a little torture as punishment for pushing her into this situation. But she had given him control. She decided that it was probably for the best he wasn't here now, but resolved to not have him miss any other adventure. That said, she wasn't going to not at least see what was presented before her.

Just then Tré spoke up, "Hannah, I'm going to touch your breasts now. Is that what you want?"

"Yes."

He moved his hands from her sides and onto both her breasts at the same time. The light touch of his strong hands across her nipples as his fingers incased each breast was like a renewed electrical charge that shot straight to her clit. As this happened, her hands gripping his shorts pulled down as much as they could in that position, but it was enough to clear the fabric from his cock.

She found herself looking up at a sizable piece of flesh. It was darker than the rest of his skin. Best guess from her angle was that it was at least 8 inches long and reasonably thick. Definitely bigger than her husband in every aspect but not massive. Still, the sight of it, especially in comparing it to her husband's equipment, along with his light kneading of her breasts were getting her extremely aroused.

He worked her nipples lightly, driving her pretty crazy.

She wanted to feel his cock so, she took it into her hands. She marveled as she often did with her husbands at contrasting properties of it. It was hard, but the skin was soft. It's internal temperature felt much warmer the natural body heat emanating from the rest of the man. And the wet precum seeping from the tip felt at odds with the general dryness of the rest of his member.

She was touching another man's cock for the first time since she started dating her now husband twelve years ago. She loved her husband beyond words. She enjoyed sex with him and never felt lacking or unfulfilled in there lovemaking. But holding this stranger's cock in her hands made her feel something she couldn't quite express, even to herself. That fact that he was a stranger; the fact that he wasn't her husband; the fact that her husband wanted her to do this AND actually paid this man to do the things he was doing. All of these things were triggering this emotion that she had never felt before and couldn't articulate a name for. Her upbringing had told her over and over again that whatever this is was forbidden and not morally or socially acceptable. And yet she desperately wanted to explore it and embrace it.

She looked up at him to see him looking down at her as he continued to massage her breasts, bringing her further along to an orgasm just from his stimulation of them. Not that this new emotion she was feeling wasn't significantly playing a part. He smiled and simply nodded at her.

With that nod, she knew what he was giving his consent to without him saying it. Without taking her eyes from his, she moved the head of his cock into her mouth. It was something she didn't know she wanted before that consent was given, but once it was she wanted it badly. She tasted this man, with his beautiful skin. So different than her husband. She had to open pretty wide to get his much larger head past her lips, taking such care not to scrape it with her teeth.

The position she was in was a bit awkward and while she didn't want his hands to stop what they were doing to her breasts, she just had to adjust. She rolled over on to her stomach, using her hands to make sure not to break the contact between her mouth and his cock. Now, she was in a better position to use her hands to squeeze the base and fondle his balls as she worked to take as much of him down her throat as she could. In her head she decided that no matter what, she wanted to get him off with her mouth. She love the control she felt doing that to her husband and the few men that had come before him. The irony that he was being paid to receive this pleasure from her wasn't lost on Hannah.

She took him deeper down her throat. It was difficult, due to both his length and girth, but she shrugged off the gag reflex and was able to bottom out. She couldn't hold that for long, but as she came back off she used her hands to replace what came back out of her mouth.

With hands free from her breasts, he reached forward and gently held her head. Looking down at this gorgeous married woman who was giving him a top notch blow job of her own free will was intoxicating. It felt like the tables had been turned as it was supposed to be him giving her pleasure, what he was paid to do. But it was obvious she was deriving her own pleasure from the act she was performing with him. Hannah had no doubt that many married white women had been in this same situation with him. Tasting the forbidden fruit, both in the infidelity and the undeniable racial aspect of it.

She did not consider herself to be racist in the least, but she could not deny the taboo nature of interracial sex factored large in her desires. She was sure that a therapist would have a field day exploring why the extreme fantasy of being interracially impregnated loomed so large for her. Obviously having had the close call in college lit the spark, but that it turned her on even then, during those scary few weeks, and continued to was something to explore. Especially in reflection of her marital status to a white man and his own fantasies.

"This is so good, Hannah. You are fantastic at this. I'm close to cumming. Do want to make me cum?"

Hannah nodded her head while looking in his eyes but not stopping in the least. If anything, she worked his cock in her mouth even more voraciously.

"Do you want me to cum on you? Or are you planning on sucking it out of me?"

With that she swirled her tongue across his glans and he couldn't hold back anymore. She had made her choice and he began bursting in her mouth and down her throat. She kept up the things she was doing with her lips and her hands to provide him with the best climax that she could muster out of him.