Linh

I've been reading stories on this great site for 20 years now. Once I started actually trying to write one, I realized just how difficult it can be. So, I'd like to give a shout-out to all the authors out there that have provided me (and others) with great stories over the years...your work is appreciated.

I'd like to give my humblest thanks to LexxRuthless. Not only is he one of the best authors here, he also provided me with a lot of guidance and advice on writing and posting to this site. His words of encouragement are also greatly appreciated. It's taken me quite a while to be brave enough to finally post something, and it wouldn't have happened without his gentle pushing. I have been sharing with him a very long story that I started almost a year ago. He convinced me to put that on the back burner, since I was stuck trying to make it perfect, so that I could get something on the site to start getting feedback. Thanks man!

He also reviewed and provided a tremendous amount of feedback and suggestions on this story, kindly going so far to actually draft several paragraphs where I was struggling, which made it much much better. He deserves a tremendous amount of credit for this story, but I didn't take all of his suggestions, so any and all mistakes are on me alone.

Additionally, TryAnything provided some great insight on the dialog, helping me streamline things. Thank you, sir, for your time and input!

Disclaimers: This is a work of COMPLETE fiction, and just a fantasy. The characters exist only in my perverted mind. Yes, this story is a stretch of reality, especially the ridiculous nature of the massage described here; if realism is important to you (and I get it if it is), this probably isn't the story for you.

As ZenZerker says (and he's been quoted by so many), "Don't expect realism, and you won't be disappointed when you don't find it!"

All characters engaging in sex are 18+

* * * * *

I was sitting at the hotel bar, nursing a Scotch (neat, of course; no sense in any of that ice silliness) when Linh sat down beside me.

"That looks good; I would like one, please," she told the bartender, pointing to my drink.

I raised an eyebrow at her. "Really? Scotch? You've always struck me as more of a wine person."

She smiled a bit at me. "Usually, yes. But I need something quite a bit stronger today," she said in her soft Vietnamese accent. Her English was great, albeit choppy at times, but it was still a second language to her. Mostly, she just didn't tend to use much slang or many contractions. I always wondered if that was a result of learning English at a school in Vietnam.

I smiled back. "Yeah, you've seemed off all day today. I assumed you were just tired from traveling. Did you get in yesterday or this morning?"

"This morning. But, I am not used to the traveling like you are. It was certainly an early morning flying in from Arizona." She smiled again, but still looked a bit off.

I guess I should back up a bit here and give some background. Both Linh and I worked for the same company. We both used to live in town and would work in the office every day. But, about six years ago, I moved from California to be near family in New York. The company didn't want to lose me, so they set up a home office for me and allowed me to telecommute, provided I traveled back to the office once or twice a month. She had also proposed telecommuting from Arizona, as her relationship with her boyfriend had been on the rocks with her being distant. This was her first trip back to California since the move.

Linh was an exceedingly bright woman and had graduated top of her class with a Masters in biomedical engineering. We hired her as an intern about four years ago and then full time shortly after. Her contributions to the company and strong work ethic made the approval for her to telecommute an easy choice for management.

Linh was also a very beautiful woman. Of mixed descent, she had been born and raised in Vietnam before moving to the US to attend University of Arizona. Her overall look was decidedly Asian, but she had a bit more curve to her than a typical Vietnamese woman. She also had the most captivating bright green eyes I had ever seen.

I'd fantasized about her more than once, even though I never would have considered making a move. Not only did she have a boyfriend, she was also over 10 years younger than me. I certainly didn't want to come across as the creepy old guy at work, even though I'd had more than one tryst with a coworker. I'd never felt the need to settle down, so the relationships didn't ever go anywhere. We always ended as friends and coworkers, though.

"You get used to it," I told her. "A few trips and you'll be in a nice rhythm." I grinned at her. "At least you don't have to travel as far as I do. There is no direct flight between here and upstate New York. My travel days tend to be 12 to 14 hours."

She laughed at that and took a sip of her drink. She winced. "Oh! That burns. How do you drink this stuff?"

I grinned again. "Years of practice, little one."

Another laugh. "Yes, the warming feeling is nice." Then, her face grew pensive. After a couple minutes of uncomfortable silence, she turned to me. "Do you mind if we get a table and talk? I have something to ask and I do not want anyone else hearing."

I cocked my eyebrow again at her. "OK. I hope it's nothing serious?" I left the question open ended and looked at her.

"No. It is just--can we go to a table and talk? Before I lose my nerve?"

Well, now I was definitely intrigued. I hoped she wasn't going to tell me she was leaving the company. We made our way, drinks in hand, to a small table in the back of the mostly empty bar. At my signal, the bartender came over and brought us two more drinks.

"OK," I prodded. "What's up?"

She grabbed her first drink and threw the contents back with one gulp, shuddering as she set the empty glass back down. She then reached for her second drink.

"Whoa, Linh. Watch that stuff. It'll sneak up on you pretty quick." She coughed a bit then made the good decision to set her drink down. I didn't want her to just slam another double drink. She wasn't used to alcohol and probably weighed all of 120 pounds.

After her coughing fit, she quietly studied her drink, not meeting my eyes.

"Seriously, Linh. What's up? You can talk to me about whatever you need to. It won't go any further."

She took a while before finally blowing out a breath and looking up at me. "OK. So, this is what I was worried about for telecommuting. I, um, did not tell anyone before because I was hoping it would be better." She took another sip and grew quiet again.

"And..." I prompted.

After another sip and a few moments of silence, she squared her shoulders and looked at me again. "I have a, um, an issue with sleeping. Ever since I was a little girl, I could not sleep in a room by myself. I have tried everything from sleeping aids to nightlights and--well, everything our doctor could think of."

She caught the bartender's attention and held up her near empty glass. Soon enough, we had two more drinks at our table. I didn't say anything, just letting her continue at her own pace.

"I have always had roommates and such. When growing up, my sister and I shared a bedroom. When I went to university, I joined a sorority just so I knew there would be several girls living together. Even though I had my own room, I still was fine. I guess it was because there were many other people there."

"Well, isn't that the same as staying in a hotel? You should be OK, right?"

"Yes, that was what I was hoping. But, as soon as I got into my room this morning, I had a bit of a panic attack. That is usually what happens when I try sleeping on my own."

I thought I understood where this was going. Always one to help solve a problem, I spoke up. "Well, we can't have you being uncomfortable. I can convince management to allow you to strictly work from Arizona. With the changes in technology, what with online meetings and all, there really is no need for you to travel out here."

She looked a little wide-eyed at that but quickly shook her head. "No, that is not what I want. I do not want to be treated differently at work. Plus, I think traveling back here is important for maintaining relationships with coworkers."

"Oh, OK." I was a little confused. "Then, what can we do to help you?"

She finished off her second drink and was quiet for a few more minutes. She once again looked back up at me. "Um, would you be OK if I stayed with you?" She quickly added, "It is fine if not! I understand if that makes you feel uncomfortable. I can figure something else out. It is OK. Forget I asked." She looked a little panicked, almost near tears.

Whoa! I'd never seen her like this. In the four years I'd known her, she exuded nothing but confidence, regardless of how stressful things would get at work. Seeing her like this--nervous and vulnerable--made me feel bad for her. It was also a surprise how I felt myself reacting on an emotional level. I wanted to reach out, to comfort her. I wanted to hold her and tell her everything would be alright.

Instead, I smiled at her to ease the tension she was under. "Hey. Don't think for a second you've offended me or anything. It's OK." I reached over and patted her hand, even though I wanted to grab it. I'd never done more than shake her hand in the past, so I didn't want to cross a line.

She looked visibly relieved, her shoulders loosening a bit.

I continued. "Hmmm. Yeah, we can do that. I have a room with a king bed right now, but I'll go to the desk and change to a room with two queens."

I started to get up, but she quickly reached up and grabbed my arm. I looked at her, a bit confused.

"No. No, do not change it. The beds are very large and I do not take up much space." She smiled at me. "Please. Sit back down so we can go over this."

That was a little shocking. Oh well. We could figure out the sleeping arrangements later. I knew I could just have a cot sent up for me. I took my seat again and reached for my drink. "OK, how do we handle this?"

"First, I do not want anyone knowing. I would be embarrassed for people to know I can not even sleep by myself, like a frightened child." She smiled at that but blushed a little.

"OK. But what about--" I started.

She immediately understood my concern, so she cut me off. "Tomàs knows. I talked to him about it before I left. He was the one that came up with the idea." OK, so that meant her boyfriend was good with it. I had met him on a few occasions and we got along. I guess he trusted me, which was warranted. I certainly wasn't going to make a move on his girlfriend. But it was like she could read my thoughts.

"Tomàs and I have a, um, unique relationship. He is fine with me staying with someone, as long as it is you."

I took another drink of my Scotch and waited for her to continue. She was in her element, I knew. Taking control of a situation and brainstorming it.

"Second, I want to maintain the illusion, so I want to still book my own room."

"Makes sense," I said. "That way we can also choose which room is better." I grinned at her.

"Yes. And third." Another drink and another pause, "Third, I plan to make it worth your while. I know I will be cramping your style by staying with you--"

"Whoa. Not true. Look, I live alone in New York. Having a roommate when traveling sounds kind of nice. You do not need to 'make it worth my while' or anything. It's really not a big deal. Frankly, you're getting the raw end of the deal here. Ever live with a 40 year old man? We snore." I grinned at her again.

She laughed at that. "Oh, I think I can live with snoring. But I am not taking 'no' for an answer here. Something you do not know about me is, I was a masseuse in Vietnam. I will give you a great massage after work every day."

I started to open my mouth and speak. She interrupted before I could. "Please let me do this. Otherwise, it will hurt my feelings. I need to do something for you to make me feel OK about this. I know it is a little personal and intimate of an act, but I believe we can separate work from after-work."

After a couple of minutes, I finally relented. "Well, I'd be lying if I said a massage didn't sound nice after traveling all day yesterday. You really don't have to do this--or anything else, for that matter--though. I really am OK with just being roomies."

"I understand. But it is important to me to do something." She reached her hand across the table. "Deal?"

I took her hand after a minute. "Deal," and we shook.

* * *

After finishing our drinks and a light dinner (I made sure she ordered something that would help soak up the alcohol; she was visibly buzzed), we made our way up to my, er, 'our' room around 7:00. On the way, we stopped at her room so she could get toiletries and a change of clothes for tomorrow.

Once in our room, she asked, "Are you OK if I take a shower?"

I smiled at her. "Of course. And this is your room too. You don't need to ask my permission to shower or anything."

She laughed again. "Oh, I meant in case you wanted a shower. Are you OK if I go first?"

"Yup. I can wait." I turned to grin at her. "Just don't take all the hot water."

Laughing, she made her way into the bathroom with a small bag. After about 20 minutes, she emerged from the bathroom followed by a billow of steam. Looking up, my breath caught a bit. Her long dark hair was now wet (she was still toweling it off), and she was now wearing a very short silk robe, tightly cinched around her waist. This only worked to accentuate her curves, which she normally kept well hidden in her business attire.

And when I say 'short', I mean really short. That line from that terrible Ford Fairlane movie came to mind. I didn't remember exactly how it went, but it was something like 'Man! You have to shave when you wear a skirt that short. And I don't mean your legs.'

"Wow," I muttered before quickly composing myself. "That's, um, a beautiful robe."

That earned me a dazzling smile. "Thank you. It is my favorite." She gave me a look. "So, are you showering or are you ready for your massage now?"

"Oh, um, I'd like to shower first." Actually, I didn't typically shower in the evenings. I was a 'shower in the morning' kind of guy. That helped wake me up. But, if this girl was going to be touching my back, I wanted to at least smell nice.

After showering, I got dressed in shorts and a t-shirt. I walked back into the room to see her at her computer.

"Hey," I said. "The work day is over. Didn't I warn you about working too late?" I grinned at her.

She laughed. "Just reading through emails. I was tired today and did not get as much work done as I would have preferred."

"Well," I continued, still grinning, "be careful how you answer them. You had three double drinks, you know."

She giggled a bit. "Yes, and that was after two glasses of wine before I came down to the bar to join you. I really needed the boost before I talked to you." She shut her laptop and stood up. "So, are you ready for a massage?" she asked as she raised her hands up and wiggled her fingers at me.

"Um, again, I really am OK--"

"Enough of that. I want to do this for you."

"Um, OK. So, where do you want me? On the chair?" I started to sit at the comfortable chair by the window.

She looked a little confused before she understood. "What? Oh, no, not a chair. I am giving you a full body massage. You will love it! Believe it or not, my fingers are quite strong." She smiled at me again.

"OK, so...just on the bed then?"

"Yes, please. Close to the edge. I start with your shoulders, head, neck, upper back and arms. I need to be able to reach across your body."

A little nervous, and not knowing why, I quickly made my way to the bed lying face down close to the edge.

She giggled a little. "No, Jim. I need you undressed for this. I use some warming oil and it only works on your skin."

"Oh, um, OK." With that, I sat up and removed my shirt, quickly lying back down on my stomach.

A laugh this time. "What part of 'undressed' is confusing? This is an all body massage. Shorts too." I hesitated which she sensed immediately. "Oh, are you shy? That is a bit surprising. Here," she said as she untied her belt and let the robe slide to the floor, exposing her flawless body in all of its glory. I turned my head the other way, just to keep from staring. She blew out a breath. "Seriously, we are both adults. I have seen naked men before, and I assume you have seen naked women. It is not a big deal."

'Big deal'. Interesting choice of words. One quick glance at her perfect body, and the front of my shorts was becoming, in fact, a very big deal. Without getting up, I tugged my shorts and boxers down and off, exposing my butt to her.

"There. That is better. Now, let us get started." With that, I heard the cap being opened on the small bottle of oil she was carrying. After a second, I heard her rubbing her hands together, the slick sound of oil making comical noises. "Oh," she said. "First, the mood." I heard her fiddle with her phone and soon, the room was filled with very soft music playing. I then felt her very warm hands touch my back right between my shoulder blades as she started to spread the oil. "Just close your eyes, relax, and enjoy."

So, I did. With my eyes shut, I luxuriated in the feeling of her strong hands working magic on my shoulders and neck. She ran one hand through my hair and began massaging my scalp after a short time. She then moved to my upper arms, first massaging the one closest to her and then leaning over to massage my other upper arm. By this time, I was completely relaxed and in a dream-like state. But, the fact her hardened nipples were rubbing along my back and head as she leaned over was not lost on me.

"Now it is time for your legs and lower back. It is easier for me if I am on top. Are you OK with that?"

Broken from my reverie, I said, "Um, sure. OK."

With that, she climbed up on top of me, straddling my lower back. I felt her lean over and start massaging my calves, using her strong fingers to really work on my tense muscles. Slowly, she moved her way up to my thighs, spending a lot of time ensuring every inch of my legs were subject to her magical touch. The sexual nature aside, this was easily the best massage I had ever had. She scooted herself up my back, settling on my upper back. I could feel the warmth of her perfect backside as she sat down gently, not putting too much weight on my back.

My eyes flew open wide a second later as I could now feel the unmistakable heat and moisture from her crotch on my skin. I cleared my throat and closed my eyes again. She rubbed more oil into her hands, then leaned down and started right below my buttocks, massaging my ass for a while before moving to my lower back. After really working my lower back, she finally got up and stated, "There. Done with the back. Now, you need to turn over so I can take care of your front."

"Umm..."

She immediately sensed my tension. "I learned long ago that a man getting an erection while being massaged is very normal. I will not be offended."

Even though I tried everything I could think of in the brief few seconds before I needed to turn over (I had Homer Simpson's line 'think un-sexy thoughts...think un-sexy thoughts' going through my head), it didn't work. Finally, I just sighed and turned over, exposing my very erect cock.

"Wow," she whispered, her eyes going wide. Seeing my blushing face, she quickly recovered. "Sorry," she said, shaking her head to clear it. "That was unprofessional." She took a deep breath and blew it out. "OK. I start with the hand closest to me and work across until I get to your opposite hand. Is that OK?"