Fifty Five Minutes Massage

Her moans grow louder and louder and they eventually turned to screams.

Screams so loud they came out like blades scraping her throat.

Her back arched and her legs quivered. She felt an uncontrollable urge to gush out fluids in the form of a forcible stream. What is this? WHAT AM I FEELING? I'm about to blow, IM ABOUT TO BLOW.

Marvin's fingers worked their way with gun-shot quickness, he felt her tremble, contract and...

He drew out his fingers.

In a sudden flashing moment Helen's mind went completely blank and all she saw were bright pinkish-purple colors, and that wide grassy field under the picture-like blue skies.

"AHHAAAAAA!!" she came with a roaring bellow as she squirted streams and streams of creamy and concentrated vaginal fluids.

It was the first time was ever able to reach such a level of climax that her body squeezed out juices in such force and power. In the seconds after that she felt as if someone had stuck her naked inside a freezer as she was shivering all over. But she was not cold; she was warm and sweating like mad, in fact.

She felt tenderness all through her body and her crotch and legs twitched for several minutes after. Her heart was accelerating, even after the fact, and her breathing was hard and heavy, causing her breasts to heave up and down.

The orgasm she had was like an electrical shock, and it didn't want to fade away. The only thing she could do was lay there and quiver.

But her sexual appetite, her carnal desire, it also did not fade away.

She wanted more, she could handle more.

I must have more, she thought. I need him to fuck me.

Marvin kept quiet the all time. He took off his shirt and moved next to Helen's head. She looked at him softly, her eyes were sparkling sapphires.

She looked high; high from pleasure, high from orgasm.

Her mind was a blank, but the hands seemed to function on their own- they began to unzip Marvin's trousers. And then just reach under his briefs and pull it out, so she did.

Helen gasped.

It was very big.

----------

"You're carrying a lot of tension in you." The masseuse said with her girlish voice.

Steven's throat was dry and the complexion on his face was a bashful-red. His mind blanked and his throat somehow made a sound:

"Really?" He said with a high-pitch tone, not certain if it was indeed his own voice.

The masseuse ran both her dark hands across Steven's back- her crotch rubbed against his rear end in the most intimate way.

Steven lay in a mild state of a shock on the bed. My god, he thought, I can feel her pussy rubbing against me. Is she aware of it? Is it on purpose?

"Yes. But it's okay. I'll make it better. Just relax"

There's only so much I can relax with a stranger's cunt rubbing itself against me, Steven thought. This massage does feel amazing though.

Room 8 of Tubman's Inn, bed & breakfast, was the host of a massage session. Nothing more than an innocent massage session. So innocent that if you blurred your eyes, or didn't put on your glasses- it would look like you are spying on a couple having sex on their bed.

Her hands kneaded his broad shoulders and back and Steven could feel each muscle in his body liberate with joyful pleasure. He could also feel his major hard-on. That cock pressed against the bed, with the gun loaded and ready to fire, was not making it any easy for him. How did this happen?

Well, it happened when he decided to watch "just one more minute of porn", as he said earlier in his head, and time just flow by him.

His day was long and awful. A three hours plus car-ride will make any man a little tired, but add to it a bickering wife and the fact that you drove all this time just so she can get a separate room, that was gods' big joke for the day, he thought.

He wanted a shower- warm water to spray on his body and put away the terrible stench of sweat, car, roads and mad-wives.

But those two Scandinavian babes on the TV didn't help much.

It was hard to go take a shower while Heidi and Helga (names he made up in his head) were screwing each-other with a big purple strap-on and eating one another's young and seductive pussies.

Steven felt like he should at least wait for the climax scene, where, most likely, the girls will shake rattle and roll with orgasm, just as if he had waited for the punch-line at the end of a Saturday-Night-Live sketch.

But he misjudged the time and just as Heidi was sticking it inside Helga's ass, a knock was heard on his door. Steven shrieked and jumped in his place as his heart was pumping hard in his chest, just like his veins were pumping on his solid-red dick.

Who is it? It must be Helen, he thought.

When he went to door, he stretched his olive-colored shirt down as much as possible, so it covers the bulge in his pants.

But it wasn't Helen- it was the massage Steven ordered and forgot almost instantly about.

The girl giving him the massage was a young black woman. She wore a white tightly buttoned shirt with the words TUBMAN INN sewn over it. She had a matching colored skirt, that didn't even reach her knees. Her hair, golden-brown like maple syrup, was knotted into long and tight dreadlocks that ran all the way across her back to her ass.

She was quite short, a head below Steven, and she obviously carried a large pair of breasts under her blouse, a fact that Steven was not indifferent to.

He welcomed her inside and they exchanged pleasantries. Her voice had a childish tone to it and it came out of her mouth so soft and hazy that it sounded like the talks you hear in your dreams.

The white colored uniform made her look like a nurse, Steven thought amusingly, and as if she was listening to his thoughts she asked him to strip down and lay on the bed with nothing on but his shorts.

Steven never gave much thought to the fact that the massage would take place on the bed, he assumed it would be anyway, but what did made him nervous was the fact did he had to strip to his shorts with his huge erection just waiting to pop up and say, Hello World.

Nervous and red with shame he decided to bite the bullet and undress, taking advantage of the fact that the masseuses, which he leaned her name was Desiree by this time, was setting up the room and creating an interesting ambiance.

She dimmed the lights a little bit and lit scented candles that she brought with her inside a black tote bag. She also spread a large white towel on the bed, where Steven will lay later, and another soft towel, neatly folded to use as head cushion.

He watched her set up the room; her bum was creating a nice round shape as she folded her back to spread the towel on the bed, her big breasts swayed under her blouse, and Steven suspected she had nothing under.

He shook the thoughts from his head and realized that ogling Desiree was not helping with softening his erection.

At the end he decided to man-up and just drop down his jeans with a quick motion and immediately position himself on the bed.

He did so, and his eyes widened with panic when he saw the tent in his boxers, so he lunged on his belly hoping that Desiree did not notice it.

He wasn't sure but, as his body collapsed on the bed, he thought he saw glimmer of smile on her lips.

Steven thoughts, at those first few seconds, were: I need to cool off this erection, especially now that my dick is pushing against the mattress and my belly. If I get too excited I might go-off.

But what happened next took him by surprise, something that caught the breath in his lungs and made a dry lump in his throat.

Desiree jumped on the bed beside him; she oiled her hands with warm oils and applied it to his body. Then- she climbed on-top of him and sat, with her legs spread, over his buttocks and started to massage his back from there.

Steven was stunned by this. He remembered his friend, Leo, once told him that on a trip to Thailand, he went to a place in Bangkok for a full-body-massage, where the girl rubs up on you and you end up fucking her. He was quite sure that Leo's massage session started not-so different from his own.

Now he just sprawled on the bed, motionless, for the last who knows how many minutes and allowed her to rub her hands all over is back and shoulders, hoping his gun won't fire under him.

And it was tough. Before she entered the room, thanks to free-nude-TV, his horniness level reached mountain-high, a fact he did not take care off.

He was only a second away from masturbating before she knocked on the door. And now she mounted him- riding his backside, feeling her vagina under the fabric of her panties rub against his butt cheeks. The added weight on his throbbing dick, and the added heat that radiated from Desiree's body was not easy on his genitalia.

The massage itself felt wonderful and he tried to concentrate on that fact more than anything. The odor from the candles, something fantastic that smelled like a flower garden under dewy skies, filled his lungs.

Her hands were soft and gentle, they moved over his body with mesmerizing care. Her thumbs and fingers were so tender yet they pressed on every knot and muscle in his body until they vaporized.

His back and neck began to feel like an abandoned minefield, where every few inches another tension-spot was kneaded to an explosion, one so great it sent shivers up his spine.

When she reached for his shoulders, her long dreads splashed on his back like a million ropes, tickling his body in a way that made him smile.

His shoulders were boulders and his neck was a wreck.

She punched him lightly with closed-fist hands over his upper back like a pastry-chef fisting his dough, and he had a childish urge to break a sound, just so he could hear it echo with inconsistence in the air.

He kept his eyes closed tight, because she was working too close to him and he didn't want to make eye contact, it would have made him nervous. At one point she leaned so close to his head, while working on his neck, that he could sense her breath, coming out warm like the first puff of summer wind. She was so close that, her soft lips were almost touching his, and he felt her eyes were fixed on his eyes the all time.

But, of course, he couldn't know that for sure.

His mind was a dark blank, and every now and then images would spur up in the emptiness. He saw the blonde with the heavy set of tits, sucking on her own nipples- the veins in her tits so clear they looked like a road map. When she disappeared-- the brunette came in, her body white as sheet, except for her cherry colored lips and that shine, she still had that juicy shine around her mouth.

Two thumbs made circles over the muscles in his biceps, turning them to a mere sponge.

Helga and Heidi, the two large breasted dykes from Scandinavia, were sixty-ninig each-other, their tongues looked like those of a dog feeding from his bowl.

Desiree's knuckles buried themselves against his flesh- they moved slowly around his spine and shoulder-blades, making him vibrate with pleasure and even release a soft sounding moan.

Desiree. Her name was so unique and mysterious.

He saw her in his mind, in the black space where a parade of naked bodies came and go, but she (Desiree, what a name), she wasn't naked. He tried to undress her in his mind but her long bangs seemed to cover her entire body not giving access to his eyes.

He swallowed spit and felt his cock now throbbing with passion.

He tried as hard as possible to think of something else, to subdue the feeling burning inside him, burning at his crotch. Maybe a song...

He remembered an old Neil Diamond song, and involuntarily sang it in his head.

(Desiree, Oh Desiree/ There I was found, by the sweet passion sound)

What cruel jokes his mind was playing on him. Or maybe it was her.

What was she trying to do to me? He thought. She was driving me mad- massages, sure they suppose to feel good, but this felt so more intimate and in a way wrong. I can feel her vagina rubbing at my backside, for Christ-sake. I can sense the folds of her pussy tenderly pinching my rear.

The time stood still in the room.

If he listened close enough, he could hear his wrist watch, thrown on the night stand, tick and tock with every passing second.

He would hear a TICK, and then his heart would pump fifty times, Desiree would work on one side of his body then switch to the next, he would inhale ten times and exhale ten times, the song "Desiree" would be sung in his head from start to finish, and then he would hear TOCK.

It was like the all world around him, was being normal, but only on the bed the reality was different- like a wet dream.

He felt strange as if he has given his body, not to a massage-expert, but to a powerful voodoo goddess. He felt overpowered by her.

He wanted to drift away with his mind and his thoughts, and let her do what she wants to do.

(And what she would do, is no more than give me a massage, because that is she her job, and that is what she is doing, regardless of how it makes me feel. And to be honest I'm as horny as I have ever been so I may not be thinking straight anyway)

While Steven rationalized things in his head, Desiree got off him and sat on her knees besides him. Steven felt like he was about to scream: NO, DON'T GET OFF. But he only did it in his head.

"Okay, now turn over" she said. The echo of her words vibrated in the silence of the room for a couple of seconds before Steven could comprehend what she said.

"You need me to turn over? On my back?" he said with a dry tone, not sure if he, in fact, heard her right.

"Yes"

Yes. So simple-- yet so conflicting.

He was embarrassed to turn over- if he would, she would, undoubtedly, see the tent in his boxers. He tried to think of her as a nurse, like her clothes resembled, and as one she has probably seen everything in her work so there is no room for shyness. She was a stranger before she came into the room and she will remain one after she leaves. He will never see her again, and that is a really important thing. Sure, maybe tomorrow or next week she will laugh with her friends over coffee about the guy she massaged who had a monster hard-on while she worked on him, but if that's the case then so be it.

The most important factor was that he didn't want her to stop. Heneededher to continue.

He turned over, his face washed with red color, his hands pulling his boxers up a little bit.

When the turn was complete, Steven timidly looked at his crotch and his bulge was as big if not bigger, than he thought. It looked like, when Helen was already in bed when he came late from work, and all that he saw was a huge lump in the bed covered with blankets. Sometimes he would uncover the blanket, wake her up and make lover to her. He wondered if Desiree wanted to uncover his. His penis suddenly made a hopping motion under his shorts as his muscles contracted with excitement and Steven knew he should shake such thoughts from his head.

Desiree, did not seem to change expression at all, she just rubbed more oils on her hands and ran it across his chest and belly.

Steven's eyes were wide open and blazing, his head, resting on a folded towel, and he observed Desiree's moves and motions.

All of a sudden their eyes met, and time seemed to have frozen again.

Desiree's eyes were staring at Steven's in such an intense manner that he could see sparks flying from their edges. She still moved both her hands in circular motions all over his upper body, but her eyes were locked on his, and they were trying to read him, maybe succeeding.

Steven thought of Medusa, of Greek Mythology, with her wild hair of serpents, similar to Desiree's feral dreadlocks, and how whoever looks at her turns to stone. He didn't turn to stone from watching Desiree, but his dick has become a solid rock underneath.

At the end it was Steven who closed his eyes, giving a huge exhale of stored breath that sat still on his lungs.

He decided tolet the cards fall where they may.

When Desiree brushed her fingers over his nipples he could not believe how good it made him feel. The oils on her hands were making them erect and full of tenderness. She brushed her hands several of times over his chest and nipples and each time she did his nipples hardened and he could feel a slight sense of orgasmic shiver going through his body.

Her hands traveled south- over his navel and just a hairline over his boxers. His pecker pointing up was almost poking her hands, but she continued her massage right above his bladder, and he could feel his cock jumping in its place with enthusiasm and his cum building in his testicles like a wild-fire.

Desiree began to sway her head almost like in a trance and her braids traveled everywhere on his body- they tickled his shoulders and his ribs, they splashed over his nipples and his chest, they bit his belly like thousands of golden-brown serpents, each bite so glorious he could laugh with pleasure.

When her hand reached under his drawers and slid down below his cock towards the pubic bone, Steven was sure he has suddenly fallen asleep and was in the midst of a naughty fantasy. But reality kicked in like a wave of hot shower, and he realized she was in fact oiling and massaging his crotch.

His body felt numb- even if he wanted to stop her, because the voice-of-reason in his head told him it was wrong, he could not let her stop.

All the blood rushed from his head to his loins, and his heart was like a rubber ball, bouncing off endlessly between two walls.

Desiree's right hand was stuffed under the waistline of his shorts, beneath the cock, rubbing and oiling his bushy pubic hair. Her left hand, made its way from his thigh, slyly sliding under the left leg of his shorts.

The hands under his boxers: met, stroked one another, rubbed against his crotch. It was like two kids playing under a camp they made from their blankets, where you couldn't see them but you could see a lot of grumbling under the fabrics.

And all this time, her hands never once, explicitly rubbed his cock. They moved around it, besides it, underneath it, but not once did they grab his boiling red cock and stroked it like he so wanted her to do.

She teased him endlessly, making him weak in the head just as much as in the knees. He tried to bite his lips inside his mouth, so he can somehow regain a feeling of consciousness and control, but it did nothing for him. He was as close as he has ever been in his life to climax without ever having his dick touched.

Desiree, after giving Steven a lengthy crotch massage, decided it was time to slip him out of his shorts.

When she did undress him, Steven did not argue, did not question it in his mind- all he did was raise his pelvis so his boxers could finally be freed from his body.

His dick was uncovered similar to the way you would uncover a new Ferrari as the mystery prize in a game-show: big, red and dazzling.

His cock was swollen with red and purple shades looking like a dynamite stick, where the spark of fire was trickling down the fuse line and almost touching the blasting cap. He was ready to explode and shoot endless wads of semen all over the air, drenching Desiree's gentle and caring face with thick white cum.

Desiree was still rubbing more oils and lubricants all over his crotch- the palms of her hands, fingers and thumbs moved everywhere like a snake. They moved over his belly, they pushed against his bladder giving him the immense feeling of urinating like a madman, they brushed over his thighs, and they coated his ass and his perineum with warm oils.

Steven could feel her fingers massaging his anus, coating it with creamy and warm lubricants. The feeling of a woman's finger rubbing his anus was so unique and unfamiliar, and it felt really good, so much that he couldn't hide from the fact it was exciting him. He could feel muscles around his anus loosening, and relaxing like all the other muscles in his body already felt.