tagLesbian SexMassage As Therapy?

Massage As Therapy?

byMsHoudini©

It is about 3:30PM, on a Friday in the middle of August. It is blazing hot outside, but I m inside at my gym, winding down and cooling off after a 75 minute workout. I had missed the past 2 weeks, and my personal trainer seemed offended that I had not been around. She worked me, ran me, had me lifting like I was training for a marathon.

As I sat there on the bench, every muscle aching, but knowing deep in my hearts it was what I needed. 41 year old women do not stay fit and trim by skipping workouts and getting lazy.

I slowly rose and made my way to the shower area. I stripped out of my shorts, panties, sports bra and tshirt and hopped in the shower. I altered the water temperature between hot and cold for about 3 minutes and then stood there with the water n lukewarm. My body did not look different or out of shape, as my sculpted 36ds stood proud, and the rest looked okay, but I knew I needed to keep up the workouts to stay in tip top shape.

I quickly toweled off, and got dressed in my matching bikini underwear and covered up with a pair of shorts and a silk top, and a very shabby (but very comfortable) pair of sandals.

As I passed the front desk, the receptionist handed me a brochure to a new local spa, which I shoved in my back pocket and headed for my car. It had too be well over a hundred degrees outside. I hopped in my car, started it up, turned the A/C to cold, got back out of the car while it cooled off. I grabbed a cigarette, and as I was reaching for my lighter, and pulled the brochure and lighter from my pocket. As I smoked my ciharette, I began reading the brochure and figured why not. I had nothing going on tonight so why not treat myself to some luxury. Besides, my body ached from the workout and a massage sounded wonderful.

I got in the car (delightfully cool by this time) and used my cell to call the spa to set up an appointment to get my nails done and a massage. To my surprise, the receptionist said they had openings for the rest of the day. So with no make up on, in my grubby clothes, off I went. Before going in, I applied some eyeliner and lipstick as I smoked another cigarette.

I went inside (thank God for A/C) and was greeting by this kind or mousy looking receptionist who led me down the hall into a large room occupied by one other customer who was getting her nails done by a rather attractive redhead. The receptionist said my personal caregiver would be with me in a minute. About two minutes later, a statutette (I'm 5' 9" and she had me by three or four inches,) with blonde hair down to middle of her back appears and her name tag says she is Rhonda. "Hi, I'm Rhonda and I am your hostess. We have other hostesses and if you are not satisfied with me or my work, you may replace me with a hostess of your choice." Rhonda is absolutely stunning, with curves to die for and with tits that have to be a least DDs. "I'm easy to get along with and I'm sure everything will be fine," I reply. (Is it getting hot in this room or is Rhonda causing the dampness between my legs/) Rhonda asks "what would madam want." I want to say you, but I refrain and reply "How about a manicure and a nice long massage." "Certainly madam. Would madam please sit in this chair and I will begin yor manicure." I sexily slink across the room to the empty chair (well as sexily as one can slink in three steps.) Since I am wearing no jewelry she places my right hand the bowl of polish remover and show me a chart of the various nail colors. She then removes my right hand, rinses and refills the bowl and puts my left hand in the bowl. As she tenderly dries and massages my right hand, I feel that white hot feel of sexual attraction stirring in me.

I decide, as usual on the bright red polish. She removes my left and repeats the drying and massaging I feel a tingle from the tip of my toes to the tip f my nose. Rhonda then spends ten minutes painting each hand. When she is done I say, "Rhonda, you did a great job." She replies "they are such nice hands to work on." After a couple of minutes of idle chit chat, Rhonda asks me if I am ready for my massage. I follow her down the hall to a small room, with a bench against one wall and a massage table in the middle of the room. All of the walls and the ceiling are completely covered by mirrors.

"Madam, we have three different massages with varying prices. Would you like to see the menu?" "No thanks" I reply. "I'll take the works."

She hands me a towel, and tells me to take off my clothes, lay on the table, face down, and to put the towel over my rear end. She then leaves the room. I do as I am told and lie down nude on the table and throw the towel across my ass.

After a couple of minutes (which seemed like an eternity), Rhonda returned, pushing a small cart laden with towels and oils. She then walked over to the electrical panel, adjusted the lights and turned some very soft, soothing jazz.

She then explained, "the works" was a 90 minute full body massage. There was only one rule. No mutual touching as she would "be doing the massaging."As I agreed to the terms, Rhonda walked over a locked and dead bolted the door. She then removed her stilettos, shorts and pullover polo shirt (she referred to it as her unform,) and she was clad in a very brief bikini bottom and even briefer top. I said it hardly seemed fair, being as she looked so sexy and I was helpless. Rhonda replied, "Patience is a virtue and good things come to those that wait." She the reiterated these term were not negotiable and I was free to leave if the terms were unacceptable.

I nestled further into the sheet on the massage table, and Rhonda went over to her cart, and uncapped a bottle of oil poured some between my shoulders and some on her hands, rubbing her hands together. She then began working the muscles in my neck and shoulders. After about ten minutes of kneading, rubbing and probing, she then poured more oil onto the small of my back and proceeded to completely massage what must have been every muscle from my shoulders to buttocks. She then did my arms and fingers. It seemed every time I started to get too relaxed, she would probe a sore spot until I felt at ease. After about ½ hour of upper body work, she moved down to stand next to my ankles, poured more oil on the back of my thighs. She proceeded to spend about five minutes on each foot and then started moving up to massage from my ankles to mid thigh, first the right leg, then the left.

She stopped and removed her bra, got up on the table, sitting on the bottom of my thighs. Reaching up to rub my shoulders, dragging her gorgeous breasts from my shoulder blades to the small of my back. By this time I knew the sheet on the table would have a huge spot where I had been leaking, but I didn't care. I was in heaven. As she slid farther down, straddling my calves, she said "Purple is the code word. If I am doing something you do not like just say purple." My reply was "I can't think of anything you could do to make me want you stop."

She got off the table, removed the towel and placed a pillow under my tummy, rising my ass up in the air. She then poured oil on each of my ass cheeks and then poured more on the top of my ass crack, much of which tricked down my ass and pussy onto the sheet. She then proceeded to rub the inside of my thighs, up and down, back an forth, never actually touching my pussy or as, but tantalizing and teasing to the point I was ready to scream. Rhonda knew this as she kept whispering "patience, patience...

She then moved up and began massaging the oils into my ass cheeks, rubbing and kneading, pulling my ass cheeks apart, exposing my back hole, but once again just teasing, teasing, teasing. She then moved to the top of my crck and began rubbing all kinds of hot oil between my ass cheeks, rubbing from the top of my asscrack to my clit, but again never stopping to concentrate on one particular part.

Finally she stuck the middle finger of her right hand into my cunt, gently fingering my pussy, immediately finding my Gspot and then began rubbing my clit. I immediately had an orgasm, crying for both joy and relief. Rhonda removed her hand from my vagina and love button and began caressing my ass crack. She then stuck one then two fingers into my ass, and began rubbing my clit with her other hand. I came again and again, screaming in bliss.

Then suddenly she stopped. "No I cried, more please, please more." Rhonda just looked at me and said: "turn over." She poured more oil on my torso and began massaging my breasts, milking, rubbing, pinching and tweaking my pebble hard nipples. The more she rubbed, the hotter I got. She stopped again and poured oil on my upper thighs and hips, She began rubbing and massaging the inside of my thighs, working her way up to my pussy. One , two then three fingers pounding my pussy while with her other hand she gently caressed my clit. I came at least four times, before Rhonda stopped.

She put her bra, panties and shorts back on, washed her hands in the sink and looked exactly like when she first walked into the manicure room. I with a big smile that it seemed unfair that I could not retaliate. She took a card from her pocket, wrote something on it and said not to read it until I got to the car (something about prostitution laws.) I showered and paid the receptionist on my way out. It was still in the high nineties when I got outside. I started my car, turned on the A/C, lit a cigarette and pulled out Rhonda's card. She had written the name of a very chic bistro in town, and said 8:30 tonight. She said after dinner, I could retaliate all night long.

That will be another story.

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