Healing Hands Massage Ch. 01

The sign in the storefront window read: COUPLE'S MASSAGE - 75% OFF

"That's a steal!" Sarah said, grabbing me by the wrist to drag me toward the advertisement. I stumbled after her, trying my hardest not to drop the three bags of clothes, two pairs of new shoes, and the assortment of expensive jewelry she had bought over the last five hours.

Naturally, all of it belonged to her.

"Babe, look at this!" Sarah said, pointing one of her platinum-polished fingers. "It's even cheaper than the price of a single massage."

"A hundred dollars an hour," I read aloud, feeling acutely aware of the ache in my shoulders and back. I had to admit, after being reduced to my girlfriend's pack mule, a full-body massage sounded like a fantastic idea.

A few months ago, I'd have laughed in her face at such a request and forced her to carry her own stupid clothes. Not that I'd have gone shopping with her in the first place. Her place in our relationship had been that of the submissive, the tamed princess. At the suggestion of a massage, I'd have forced her to strip to her panties and dance for me, like the concubine of an ancient king. Maybe I'd have had ordered her to massage my naked body herself. Why pay a professional when you have a perfectly good girlfriend at home?

That was the way our relationship was supposed to work. The way it was used to.

Funny, how fast things change.

"Sounds like a good deal," I admitted.

Sarah nodded gleefully. "Doesn't it? And since I paid for lunch and breakfast today, not to mention this month's rent, I think it's more than fair that you cover for an itsy bitsy massage."

I suppressed an urge to groan. One year ago, I'd been Sarah's senior partner at McCarthy & Smith's, making nearly twice as much as she did. Buying her expensive meals, clothes, and beauty treatments had been the foundation for our relationship.

You probably think I'm an idiot for relying on money to win a girl's affection. You might be right. But back then I had more than enough to spare, and the luxuries that softened her harsh demeanor amounted to little more than pocket change.

It was also something of a personal challenge. Sarah had the reputation of being something of any ice princess around the office. She was widely regarded as being unattainable, no matter how attractive, wealthy, or outgoing her suitors appeared to be. It didn't help that she had one of those fresh-out-of-college affluent white girl bodies: skinny with perky breasts and a thick ass, but remarkably toned. The way she walked commanded attention from all of the guys on our floor: shoulders drawn back, chin high, stepping quickly in those loud high heels. Adding to her charm were her delicate facial features and meticulously groomed hair, and that slight floral fragrance that lingered wherever she passed by.

Watching her from my office, knew I had to have her. To conquer her.

And I took my time doing it. I wasn't worried about the competition. I had tamed more than my fair share of women in college, from airy bimbos to cocky athletes, to bratty pink-haired feminists. And my competition was even sparser in the workplace. It helped that I took better care of my body than most of my male colleagues.

After weeks of subtle flirting, all I needed to seal the deal was the right moment: the closing of a big case, an office party, a few bottles of champagne. I came onto Sarah strongly, but allowed her to make the first move. When she laughed at one of my petty alcohol-inspired jokes and pressed her hip against my thigh, both of us knew it was time.

We fucked that night for hours. That was the key to winning a woman's heart, laying down the pipe the first chance you get. The puppy dog eyes she gave me the next morning told me everything I needed to know. Sarah was mine.

It didn't take long to have the office princess wound tightly around my finger. Within a week she was my steady girlfriend. Imagine my delight, having the most desirable girl at work fetching beers while I reclined on my designer couch, legs spread out, cock waiting. Not only did I tame her, I trained her as well. At the snap of my fingers she'd drop to her knees, mouth open, tongue dripping saliva, just like I'd taught her. Sometimes, I'd have her do all the work pleasuring me as I sipped on a beer and enjoyed the game.

Life was damn good.

Then the economy took a downswing. The firm was forced to downsize and lay off half of its staff. The most highly paid employees were first on the chopping block. Guess who found himself at the top of that list?

Sarah, who had worked directly beneath me in an assistant's role, kept her job. She even received a lofty promotion. That hurt me in a personal way. I had spent all those months not just fucking her, but teaching her everything I knew. To the bigwigs at M&S, giving her my old position was the natural course of action.

How could I have known she had the bosses wrapped around her pinky finger?

A few months later, she was making more money than I ever did.

"Well?" Sarah said. "Don't just stand there like an idiot."

"Of course I'll pay, sweetheart," I said through my teeth, crunching the numbers in my head. Over my two checking accounts, I had a few hundred dollars left. That meant I had to treat Sarah with the utmost politeness and respect. The girl was covering my share of the rent in its entirety, though I swore up and down I'd pay her back once I got back on my feet. Not that I'd asked her to pay for anything when she first moved in.

God forbid she threw me out on my ass. Then I'd have to move in with my parents, and they lived out in the 'burbs. I would never be able to find a new job.

"You're the best, babe!" Sarah said, standing on her toes to give me a kiss. On the cheek, of course. She hadn't given me a real kiss in weeks. Our frequent, sloppy tonguing felt like a distant memory.

Sarah clung to my arm as we stepped into the massage parlor. The dim orange lighting seemed to smother the pale walls and seats. Soft classical music sang from some unseen speaker. The design was overly simple, like it was set up recently. It took me a moment to notice the tall, statuesque blonde standing behind the counter. She wore an immaculate Chinese dress with a short mandarin collar. More noticeably, her heavy bust strained against the silky white fabric.

Out the corner of my eye, I noticed Sarah giving the girl a stern looking over. She always did get a little jealous around more 'well-endowed' girls. Even more so when I was around. Maybe that's what Sarah needed to soften her up toward me. A little competition.

"Welcome to Healing Hands Massage," said the blonde, in a slight Scandinavian accent. I tried my best not to stare as she bowed her head low, tits jiggling underneath her dress. It didn't look like she was wearing a bra. Smiling, she stood back up and spoke to Sarah instead of me. "Are you interested in our couple's massage today? I saw that you noticed our sign outside."

"It just seemed like such a good deal," Sarah said, sputtering out some fake laughter that wouldn't have fooled a child. "We couldn't help but come in and have a look!"

Inside, I knew my beloved girlfriend was seething with jealousy. Though Sarah's face was thin and beautiful, she'd always been self-conscious about her smaller than average bust size. Her brunette hair was lustrous and soft, the result of countless frequent beauty treatments, but it couldn't quite compare to the aura of a natural blonde. It didn't help that the masseuse towered over her. With the way Sarah was behaving, maybe I wouldn't have to pay for a massage after all. Though I really wanted that blonde's hands all over my legs and back...

"My name is Astrid," the blonde introduced herself, straightening the pair of golden braids that hung off her broad shoulders. Out the corner of my eye, I noticed my girlfriend's eyebrow twitch. "You're our last customers for the day, so please follow me inside!"

Sarah held her chin high as Astrid led us through a curtained doorway. While we walked down the hallway, I glanced at the ceiling, the walls, the floor--anywhere but the tall blonde in front of me. Her ass wasn't just large, but powerful. So were her muscular thighs, tugging against the hem of her dress with every long stride. I marveled at the fact that the thin white fabric could contain such an athletic body. There was an imposing presence to the girl that I wasn't used to. She dominated the room and my attention.

Even more of a reason not to look at Astrid directly. If Sarah caught me staring, I'd be sleeping with the bums in the nearby park tonight.

The room Astrid shuffled us into was larger than I expected for a shopping mall massage parlor. I set Sarah's shopping bags in the corner as I looked around. An assortment of red Christmas bulbs lined the walls, simulating the soft flicker of candlelight. A pair of parallel massage tables sat in the center, separated by a divider of thin rice paper.

"What's that for, Astrid?" Sarah asked in a sharp tone. Trying to take charge of the situation.

"Just to give you a little privacy, hun," Astrid answered sweetly.

"I don't see the point," Sarah said. "This is a couple's massage isn't it?"

"Studies have shown that people are able better relax their muscles when they feel like fewer people are watching. It's better for your body and health." Sensing Sarah's hesitation, Astrid continued, "It's not transparent, but it is very thin. You'll know right away if your... what's your name, dear?"

"David," I said, keeping my eyes on the massage table.

"You'll know right away if your David has gone anywhere," Astrid said.

Sarah tossed back her hair and tittered like a schoolgirl. "Oh, that's the last thing I'm worried about. If my boyfriend ran off, it wouldn't take me long to find a new one. In a way, he'd be doing me a favor!"

The two of them laughed as I held my tongue. Then, while Sarah kept laughing with her eyes closed, I caught Astrid giving me an appraising look. She licked her pillowy pink lips. Her lustful gaze was pure sexual electricity. An immeasurable urge came over to run my tongue over her mouth, her nose, her cheeks. To lick her up like a scoop of vanilla ice cream...

I felt myself growing stiff in my trousers.

"And what's your name, hun?" Astrid asked Sarah.

"Miss Jones will be fine," Sarah said, as if their little exchange of laughter meant nothing to her. I almost cringed at the comment. Sarah could be a real bitch when she wanted to.

But Astrid took it in stride, gesturing to a small table with a stack of paper sheets and pens. "Miss Jones, David, if you'll fill out these questionnaires. I'll return in five minutes with my partner." As Sarah eyed the questionnaire, Astrid gave me a devilish wink. "I promise the two of you are going to love our massage!"

"I'm sure we will, Astrid," Sarah said, dismissing the tall blonde. I slipped my hands inside my trouser pockets, trying to hide the tent in my lap. The moment Astrid stepped out of the room, Sarah's smile disappeared. "This place is a total shithole! Can you believe the nerve of that bitch?"

I held my breath. Had she noticed all the signs Astrid had been sending me?

"Believe what?" I asked innocently.

"She had the nerve to call you dear!" Sarah said. "And right in front of my face."

I breathed a quiet sigh of relief. "I'm sure she didn't mean anything by it."

Sarah looked me up and down. "You're right. I'm sure she didn't." Smirking, she took a seat beside the table and began filling out one of the questionnaires. "Let's get this over with. First question. Do you have any..."

Doing my best to contain my irritation, I sat across from Sarah and began scribbling down answers. If I'd known our relationship would have ended up here, I'd have never picked up Sarah in the first place. Especially not with a woman of Astrid's caliber giving me 'fuck me' eyes. From the way the blonde moved, I knew she had an unreal body wrapped in that Chinese dress. She was an outfit change away from being a mixed martial arts fighter. Sarah did her fair share of cardio, but no amount of exercise could give her the build of a Norse goddess.

"DAVID!" Sarah said, reaching to pinch my earlobe. I flinched, shocked that she took such liberties with me. As if I were her disobedient child! "Are you even listening to me?"

"Of course, sweetheart," I lied, wincing from the pain.

"Sometimes I don't know why I put up with you," Sarah said, letting go of my ear to fold her arms. "Whatever. Where's that blonde bimbo to give me my massage?"

Sarah jumped in surprise when we heard a knocking at the door. A second later, Astrid strode into the room, followed by a petite, grinning Chinese girl. Her hair was up in pigtails and she swung her fists as she walked. Despite her stature, her legs looked sturdy and strong, her forearms dense and well-defined. She stood with her feet shoulder-width apart, like she was ready to kick someone's ass. Even I found myself a little intimidated, despite our vast size difference.

"You must be Miss Jones!" the Chinese girl said, stepping into Sarah's personal space. "You can call me Mei Ling. I'm your personal masseuse today. Now, stand up so I can see what I have to work with." Sarah stood up stiffly as Mei plucked the paper out of her hands. "Lots of legs work, and you're having trouble with your lower back? I guess that's normal for a woman your age."

Sarah made a horrified face. "What do you mean a woman my age!"

"Now, now, Miss Jones," Mei Ling said, taking Sarah by her fingers and leading her towards the massage table. "Growing old is nothing to be ashamed of. Take off your clothes and lay face down. Mei Ling will fix you right up."

"Fix me up? Like I'm some sort of--" Sarah stuttered, tottering after the tiny Chinese girl. Her face was scrunched with outrage, but rather than scold the masseuse, she pursed her lips and began to unfasten the buttons of her expensive blouse. "I suppose you're the expert here. I trust that you know what you're doing."

I nearly gaped at the sight. The powerful Sarah Jones, queen bitch of the firm, reduced to an obedient little girl. And in mere seconds! It had taken me weeks to get so much as a smile out of her!

"Oh, Miss Jones," Mei Ling said with a pout, "you move too slow! You really do need this massage!" Sarah's face grew even redder as Mei Ling slipped behind her. "Here, let me help you."

Sarah tried to reach back to stop her, but the Chinese girl slapped her hands away, giggling lightly. "I can undress myself just fine if you would just--"

"Stand still!" Mei Ling's tiny hands went to work. In what seemed like seconds, she had Sarah's skirt and blouse in one hand, her expensive high heel shoes in the other. All Sarah had left was her full-cut sateen briefs. "All ready!" Mei Ling chirped, throwing the expensive clothes beneath the table while Sarah folded her arms across her bare chest. "Now lay flat on the massage table, arms at your sides, face in the cradle. There's a good girl..."

"What do you think of my partner?" Astrid whispered in my ear. I shivered from the heat of her breath. When had she gotten so close to me? Before I could muster an answer, I felt her hand on my left ass cheek. She squeezed hard. Possessively. "Don't speak. Take off your clothes and lay face down on the table. Now."

Mei Ling giggled like a teenage girl, tugging at the waistband of my girlfriend's large panties. "These are for old women, Miss Jones!" She let the waistband snap, and Sarah yelped in pain. "Silly girl, I can't give you a massage if you're wearing these!"

Sarah looked horrified. She was coming on thirty years old and age was a constant worry for her. The amount of money she spent on beauty products every year could have fed a village in Africa. In her defense, she used to wear sexier underwear, before our relationship went sour.

To my surprise, rather than argue, Sarah began to snivel and apologize. "I suppose I could run and buy a new pair," she said. "Or I could take them off, if that would help."

"This isn't that kind of establishment, Miss Jones!" Mei Ling admonished her. I noticed how her hand was resting ever so innocently on the inside of Sarah's left thigh, fingernails biting flesh. "We're professional masseuses. You think because I'm Chinese that I offer those kinds of services?"

"No! I wasn't implying that at all!" Sarah cried. "I just meant that don't have any--"

Mei Ling's slapped Sarah's left buttock, giggling mischievously. "I guess it can't be helped. Everyone makes mistakes. Miss Jones can borrow Mei Ling's pair."

Mei Ling reached for Sarah's panties and tugged them past her thighs, her calves, her ankles. Sarah buried her head in the face cradle and whimpered, trying to hide her shame. Then Mei Ling reached beneath her red dress. She wiggled her hips from side to side as she lowered to the floor a pair of skimpy pink panties.

They were the sort of underwear you'd expect from an eighteen-year-old girl. Bright white and pink cotton, with a thin stretch of fabric that flossed against the girl's asshole. More cute than sexy. The underwear Sarah used to wear was mature and provocative, slutty even. Never in a hundred years would she have worn a pair so juvenile.

Just what kind of massage was this?

"Mei Ling," Sarah said, "I don't think it's appropriate for you to--"

"This type of underwear is better for massage," Mei Ling interrupted her. "So you know, it's a thong with pink and white stripes. This will help you feel youthful again, Miss Jones."

Sarah writhed helplessly against the massage table as Mei Ling slipped her thong up Sarah's legs. When she got to my girlfriend's ass, she pulled the string deep into her ass crack. "There. That's better. I can massage you properly now."

"Mei Ling!" Sarah protested, wiggling her big ass.

"What are you whining about now, Miss Jones?"

"These panties, well, they feel a little damp."

Mei Ling brought her hand down for another loud smack, punishing Sarah's right ass cheek this time. "Miss Jones, I hope you won't be complaining for the entire massage! And here I expected you to thank me for lending you this pair. I've never done this for any other customer, you know!"

"Mei Ling I'm--"

Mei Ling grabbed Sarah's brown hair and pulled her head from the face cradle. "Act your age and look me in the eye when you apologize."

To my astonishment, Sarah's face was bright red and her cheeks were wet with tears. "You're right," Sarah conceded. "I'm sorry Mei Ling. I shouldn't have spoken to you in that tone of voice. I do hope you'll forgive me."

Mei Ling rustled Sarah's hair. She shoved the powerful attorney's face back to the face cradle and laughed. "No need to cry about it!"

"Didn't you hear me?" hissed Astrid behind me. "I said to take off your clothes."

Wasting no time, she grabbed for the hem of my t-shirt and tugged it over my head. Tossing it aside, she reached around my chest and flicked at each of my nipples. Once they grew hard, she pinched both of them at once and dragged me towards the massage table.

"That hurts, you know," I whispered, trying to keep from showing any reaction. Partly to appear strong, but more to hide it from Sarah. The way Astrid pulled at my nipples sent waves of pleasure to my ass and crotch. I'd never had a woman touch them so forcefully before. What was this Norse goddess doing to me?

"Toughen up," Astrid said, turning me around before shoving me backward against the table. I fell into a seated position, looking up at her gently swaying tits. Then the busty blonde dropped to her knees, face inches away from my crotch. I could appreciate the full shape of her now, the way her hips flared out, and the bit of fat around her stomach. I could smell her too, the scent of citrus and lavender on her skin. An oppressive fragrance, it was sharp and sweet enough to make my head spin.