For the Weekend Ch. 07

(Author's Note:

To all who have sent me praise and encouragement, I thank you! Your notes--and my husband's gentle prodding—keep me posting these.

For those who did not read the first chapter of this series, these stories are a result of a game my husband and I play when he travels. I write a chapter before he leaves and send it along with him. He holds off reading what I have written until he is ready to "discuss" it. His review of my story, along with both of us talking about where it will go next, leads to some pretty interesting phone sex when we can't be together. Another trip out of town, another story based on what we fantasized about on his last trip.

The chapters are a collaboration—some of the situations are his fantasy which I try to write for his maximum pleasure, some are my fantasies which I write for mine. I will leave it to the reader to decide as to whose fantasies are whose.

For those who wish to leave constructive negative criticism regarding my writing style, I welcome it. I would ask that perhaps you point me towards writing you feel is of good quality so I might learn from your examples. If you wish to leave negative comments regarding the story content, feel free, but they will most likely be ignored, as the subject matter is a matter of taste, and what suits my tastes obviously does not suit yours—we won't be changing each other's minds!)

Chapter 7

We drive a short distance towards the edge of town, where Tim pulls into the parking lot of an upscale office building. He opens my door and offers his hand to assist me down from the truck.

Once I'm on solid ground, he puts his arm around my shoulder and we stroll to the entrance. Inside the building, he steers us to a bank of elevators and we enter an open car. He pushes the button for the 6th floor, and off we go. I'm even more mystified as to my reward. What good can be waiting me in an office building? The car stops, the doors open, and we walk a short ways down the hall to a suite of offices. The sign on the door reads "Body Connection, LLC, Andrea Reynolds, CMT". CMT? The abbreviation sounds familiar, but I can't come up with the meaning. What exactly does Andrea Reynolds, CMT at Body Connection do?

We enter, and I quickly make the connection. Andrea Reynolds, Certified Massage Therapist. Am I here for a massage? I have had several in my life, and while I enjoy them, I become very apprehensive about this one. My body is has not yet had a chance to release from the day's events, and I'm sexually vibrating. I fear the touch—professional, yet still a touch-- of another will only be torture until Tim can give me a much-needed orgasm.

Tim gives the receptionist my name, and we are shown to a room. It is decorated nicely in a very calming manner with very soft pastel tones, and the lights dimmed to create a relaxed atmosphere. The smell of jasmine is in the air, and the sounds of a country field—crickets and songbirds—is playing softly in the background. At the center of the room is a massage table, itself not remarkable, but the faux-fur padding on the top is. I love the feel of the sheepskin rug we have at home on my naked body, and this looks every bit as sensuous. Yet I have never seen one used on a massage table before.

Tim puts his hand on my shoulder and I tense. "You are supposed to be relaxed here," he says, "why so nervous? I know you've had massages before."

"I have," I reply, "but I'm somewhat keyed up from this morning—"

"You mean you need to cum, right?" he says with a slight smile.

"I'm afraid this will only put me more on edge..."

"Don't worry," he says. "This will only enhance the pleasure later for you. After this, your orgasm will be absolutely explosive, I promise."

Just then the door opens and in walks a woman I can only assume is Andrea. She is in her mid-30s, about 6 feet tall, with a pretty smile. Her blond hair is tied in a ponytail, and she is dressed in a flower-print shift. The garment shows the slimness of her frame, and does not hide her well-defined arms. I also notice it cannot hide her breasts, C cup and unencumbered by a bra, if my guess is right. I see she has a wedding ring on her finger.

"Tim!" Andrea says. "So nice to see you again."

"Hi Andrea," he replies. "Great to see you, too." They hug, and then Tim introduces me. "I'd like you to meet Karen. She's your client today. A massage by your gifted hands is her reward for a job well done so far." I blush and look at the floor at the reference to my reward. I'm unsure how much he is going to reveal about the jobs I've been doing.

She reaches to shake my hand, and I respond. Her hand is warm and very strong, as a masseuse's would be. She towers over my 5' 4" frame, indeed, she even has Tim beat by a couple of inches.

"Excellent," she says. Do you have any special requests for your reward?"

"I'm sorry," I reply, "I'm not sure what kind of requests there are."

"Any types of massage you like? Any areas you want worked on?"

I look down at the floor again and shake my head no, too nervous to answer.

She smiles again and says, "not to worry. I'll give you the special. I think you'll like it."

Andrea turns to Tim and asks with a smirk, "are you staying to watch, you dirty old man?"

"Actually, I have an errand or two to run. I'll leave her in your capable hands and come pick her up in a while."

I panic for a moment, then regain my composure. It's just a normal massage, no big deal, I've done this before. I never had anyone in the room on those occasions either. This will be fine. A little stressful trying not to orgasm from a professional's touch, but fine. The fact that Tim won't be here probably means this is all above board.

"Well then, I'll get everything ready. Karen, if you'll get undressed, please..." she says.

I wait for her to leave the room so I may undress and get under the towel, but I notice that she is not leaving and there is no towel. I begin to ask for a covering when Tim leans over to give me a kiss on the cheek and says in a low voice, " you are to do everything she asks, do you understand?"

"Yes sir," I reply, and slip off my sandals. He leaves the room, and I look at Andrea, waiting for her to allow me my modesty. She looks back, a bemused smile on her face.

"C'mon now, I can't make you feel good if you have that dress on. You wouldn't want me to tell Tim you disobeyed me, would you?"

A smile spreads on her lips as I realize she is in on the game. Somehow, she knows what I am to Tim! I take a deep breath and pull the dress over my head, exposing myself to this Amazon.

"You can put your dress on that chair over there, then get on the table, face down."

I can feel her eyes on me as I do as I'm told, going to the chair then climbing on the table and putting my face in the padded donut at the end. My skin revels in the feel of the sheepskin against by body, but I am too distracted to take much mental pleasure in the physical aspect.

"You're very pretty," she says. "So petite."

While I lie there awaiting her touch, my mind continues to search for answers. Maybe Tim is having her test me. He would never think me a Lesbian, would he? Maybe he just wants to see what I will do. However, I have no answer yet for what my action might be.

I hear her moving behind me, the sounds of hands being wetly rubbed together with oil. I feel the drip of a warm liquid from the base of my spine up to my neck, and then her hands are on me, gently rubbing the oil into my shoulders. Her touch is gentle, yet firm, giving my skin a chance to adjust to the panopoly of feelings bombarding me. Slowly her rubbing motion becomes more firm, more of a kneading, as she works into the muscles of my shoulders and lower neck.

I have never had a woman touch me in a sexual way, and while I cannot imagine her current efforts as anything but professional, her hands along with my current state of excitement have me imagining what-if scenarios.

Andrea continues to push deeply into my shoulder muscles, but soon she is moving lower, her hands lightly running down my spine, and then more firmly up the sides of my back. She works the oil she had dripped on me earlier into my skin, her hands always gliding lightly down my spine and then pushing back up each side.

She ends her upstroke a little lower down my back each time, eventually concentrating on the base of my spine. My hips and lower back receive a firm workout, her hands working deeply into the flesh here. The dip in my sides above my hipbones is a sensitive area for me, and I feel myself getting a little moister each time she works this area.

Just when I am finding it hard to keep my hips from lifting to meet her touch, she stops and I can hear her move away. A moment later and I again feel the drip of oil on each of my asscheeks and then down my legs. She paints a giant U on me from one ankle, up to the cleft of my ass, and then down the other leg. I hear her put the bottle down, and then without warning her finger pushes past my thighs and down to my taint, then moves up through my cleft, over my asshole, and on up to the base of my spine. I jump at the unexpected touch and she apologizes, saying "sorry, some of the oil dripped down your ass. Just wanted to make sure I got it all."

I squeak out a muffled "it's ok," through the hole in the facerest and find myself almost wishing she would make another pass at the oil.

Instead she begins working on my asscheeks, first with feathery touches, then massaging and kneading harder. Soon she is pushing and pulling my ass with such force that I'm certain my asshole is winking at her with each stroke, and my wet jewel below is frequently on display.

Eventually she moves down my right leg, reaching down my inner thigh to bring back the oil that has dripped there. The side of her hand brushes my pussy once, twice, a third time, and I'm increasingly certain these touches are no accident. Is it possible Tim left instructions to excite me further before he returns to take me away and give me a good fucking? Regardless, she must have felt the moisture on my engorged lips and knows of my arousal. Will she take it the wrong way and perhaps be offended?

Andrea continues to massage my thigh and calf using the same strokes she has used on the rest of my body. She works down my leg, touching lightly the firmly, moving away from my pussy. She soon reaches my feet and works her thumb and fingers into each on in turn. She's hitting all of my pressure points, and it feels heavenly.

She soon finishes with my feet and moves to my left side and repeats her attention to my thigh. Once again her hand dips to brush my lips once, twice, a third time. I am certain this is no mistake! She repeats her strokes on my leg in a very tender yet firm manner. I have lost track of time and have no idea how long she has been at this, but too soon she stops and says in a quiet voice, "OK, turn over when you feel up to it. I'm going to get some more oil ready for you."

I gather my courage and roll over on the table, the back of my head now resting in the face rest.

My nipples are almost painfully erect and I am a little worried my wetness will make a wet patch on the fur I am on. I can hear Andrea somewhere near my head, but I can't see her. I close my eyes and wait for her return, resisting an urge to quickly tweak my clit while she is (hopefully) not looking.

I feel her presence near my head. "I can smell your excitement from across the room," she says softly. My eyes pop open in surprise, and there she is, standing above my head, looking down on me. It is not where she is standing that surprises me, though. It is that she is nude.

I am looking up at this woman towering above me, the view of her face partially obscured by two beautiful mounds jutting proudly from her chest.

"Tim told me about your arrangement with him when he set this appointment up," she says in the same soft yet authoritative voice. "And I also know the secret code. He left you in my charge, and I have a desire to give you great pleasure. Just do as I say and we'll make each other very happy." With that she places her oil-slicked hands on the skin above my breasts and begins to stroke lightly, covering me with slickness. Her hands move up to my neck and ears before moving back down to the top of my chest, turning circles in the flesh just above the spot where my tits begin to rise. She then works her way back up along my neck to my earlobes and begins running her fingers along them, a very light touch. My ears have always been one of my most erogenous spots and her touch makes my body hum with a desire for release. Any nervousness I felt about a woman touching me is gone—I want her to make me cum as hard as I can!

I begin to moan softly and Andrea takes this as a sign to continue her exploration of me. Her hands leave my earlobes and travel back down along my neck to my chest again. However, this time her hands do not stop, but continue along to the sides of my breasts, gently rounding them and moving into the valley between them.

"I love your tits," she says. "I love how firm they are. Bigger ones start to sag, but I think little ones like yours will stay perky for quite some time, and they are beautiful to look at."

All the while her hands are moving on the sides of my breasts, caressing them, getting closer and closer to my nipples. My buds are fully erect and screaming to be played with.

Suddenly Andrea grabs both tits and steps forward, her crotch now in contact with the top of my head. It is obvious her excitement is building as well, as she loosens her grip on my tits and begins to gently play with the nipples while her pubic area grinds on my hair. My hands desperately want to touch flesh, any flesh, and so I reach behind me and grab her ass to pull her closer. Her height and the height of the table combine to prevent her from moving any farther forward, but it is just right for her to rock her clit on me.

Andrea's hands continue to move down my stomach, always returning to my breasts, but moving farther and farther down my midsection. As her hands travel closer and closer to my sex, she bends more at the waist to reach, dangling her tits above me. The sight is incredibly arousing. Her tits swing gently as her hands move, inviting me to touch them. My own hands leave her ass and grab her swinging orbs, subtlety and hesitancy forgotten. I take them firmly and weigh them, my first feel of another woman's breasts. She moans softly and continues to work towards my crotch.

She stops short before she actually reaches my thighs and moves to my side, most likely to give herself more reach to get to where she plans to go next. I reluctantly let go of her tits to avoid twisting them. I'm not upset she's moving closer to where I need the most attention, though.

Her hands pick up where they left off, gently turning circles just above my mons, with occasional visits to my tits and thighs. With each visit to my legs, I open myself a little wider to her, hoping her fingers will find their way to my very wet pussy. After several trips, my legs are spread as wide as I can make them on the table, even pulling my feet up a bit to give her a wider target. She begins to spend more time on the lower half of my body, and she seems to be getting the hint my spread legs give, albeit slowly. She strokes my inner thighs, bending over me as her hands work ever closer to my cunt. Her palm settles on my clit, and she applies pressure as her finger finds its way into the valley between my inner and outer lips. I start to grind my pussy against her palm, rubbing my clit against the pressure and trying to get that finger into my hole in a come-hither motion, when she stops and removes her hand. I cry out in frustration—I was so close!—but she moves away and stands by a sheepskin rug on the floor that appears to match the covering of her table.

"Come here and lie down," she commands. I don't hesitate and lie down at her feet, begging her to finish me. "Quiet," she says. "You'll get your release, don't worry. I've never left anyone hanging who didn't deserve it. Do you think you deserve it?" I begin to babble my reply, how I've done everything Tim has asked, how much I love the feel of her touch, but she ignores me and instead kneels at the top of my head. She bends over me and gently begins kissing my forehead, almost a gentle brushing of her lips against my skin, and continues down to my eyelids, and then the top of my nose. Her next stop is my mouth, and I share my first kiss with a woman. So different from a man, the lips so soft, her tongue gently probing like a finger in my pussy, not like a cock thrusting.

Too soon she breaks the kiss and continues down my chin and neck, gently brushing her lips and tongue against my skin as she goes. She reaches the valley of my breasts and makes detours to each nipple, gently licking and biting my erect buds. She continues on lower, always kissing, always brushing, and soon the top of her chest is at my mouth, and I happily return the favor, kissing and licking her, noting the sheen of sweat on her skin. I realize I'm covered in sweat as well, making for a slick surface as Andrea works her way ever lower. Her lips are then at my navel, and my face is braced by her tits. I turn to lick as best I can at her nipples, but the size of her breasts makes it difficult to reach the sensitive tips. I content myself to kiss the sides of her breasts.

Her kissing does not stop until she reaches the thin patch of hair above my cunt, her tummy pressing lightly on my face. Her lips leave my mons, and I raise my hips in protest, trying to force my pussy up to her tongue. She does not return to taste, but instead says, "do you think you're deserving?"

"Yes! Please..." I cry, my voice muffled by her torso above me.

"I think you do," she says softly, "but I get to go first..." And with that she brings her pussy to my lips and sits up, forcing her cunt down on my mouth. She is supporting enough of her own weight to avoid suffocating me, but it is clear I am not going anywhere.

Two days ago I would have never imagined I would be eating another woman, but now, I begin to use my tongue with gusto, anxious to have her return the favor. The taste is not unknown to me, having sucked one—no, two, now—cocks that have been in me, but it seems a little different when it comes from another woman, more forbidden. I try to find the spots that thrill me most when there is a tongue on my pussy. Her position and weight make it more difficult than I would have imagined, but Andrea seems to sense this and shifts her weight to direct me to the areas she prefers.

Her hands continue their dance on my tits and stomach, lightly scratching and stroking. My hips are bucking involuntarily at an imaginary lover, hoping that my cunt comes in contact with something solid to help relieve its need.

"Yes, that's it," she coos. "Eat my cunt...I'm going to ride your tongue until I come all you're your face...oh, that's so good...I'm going to drown you..."

Her hips begin a rocking motion, her clit rubbing against my chin. Her movements become more urgent and her breathing heavier as she begins a rhythmic chant.

"Fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-FUCKFUCKFUCK...aaaaaahhHHH!!!"

As promised, her orgasm flows freely into my mouth and over my face. I am at first tempted to hold the fluid and spit it out when I am free of her thighs, but decide it is far naughtier to accept what I have been given and do my best to swallow what I have collected. I am amazed that her strength has been such that she has been able to keep herself from collapsing on my face even during her orgasm, and realize my initial evaluation of her as an Amazon Warrior was probably correct.

She continues to rock back and forth for several minutes while I tentatively explore her folds with my tongue. I know how sensitive I am after an orgasm and do not wish to overstimulate her, but she seems to welcome my explorations. I continue to gently lick her while she shudders through several smaller tremors, and then she exhales loudly and falls off me, landing on her side, her breasts shaking seductively as she lands. I fear she is going to be out of it for a while and reach for my cunt to relieve my need, but she sees me and gently grabs my hand.