Special Treatment

I always spend my Friday nights with my good friend, George, drinking and exchanging our troubles. Months before my divorce from Rita, he had listened patiently to my sad tales of how we were drifting apart. He offered some advice, even suggested marriage guidance, but that had gone down like a cement balloon with Rita.

Anyway, about six weeks after the divorce, while bending my body and twisting while lifting a heavy box, my lower back clicked painfully. Over the ensuing months, the pain became more severe. George, jokingly suggested, "It's because you broke up with Rita."

But the pain worsened, and I visited the doctor. It wasn't a slipped disc, he affirmed, "Just muscular strain. I'll give you some tablets."

My backache enjoyed the tablets, and the pain became unbearable.

George, watching me struggle to get out of a chair one night, suggested, "Mark, have you thought of acupuncture?"

"This from your marriage guidance stable of good ideas?" I knew that was unkind. He was genuinely concerned.

"A Chinese doctor has a small shop not far away. Guy at work said he cured his leg problems."

I located the small shop easily, and inside I found a smoked window blocking off a smaller office in one corner. Someone, probably a clerk, moved behind the glass. Beyond that were two treatment rooms, each with a table and an adjustable treatment bed.

The place was run by Dr Ki, a short, smiling Oriental gentleman, in his late fifties, who listened respectfully to my problems, his head nodding understandingly.

A one-hour session involved me lying, face down, on a comfortable bed, with a face hole. My pants were loosened, but only lowered enough to expose, where the painful area was. I was aware of the needles being gently inserted, but there was never accompanying pain. A warm lamp was left pointing at where the needles were.

That was it. I was left to snooze or think about the rest of the day. At the end of the hour, Dr Ki returned, placed a towel over my back and gently rubbed and massaged the region for no more than three minutes.

From early doubts, I was amazed when after only two sessions I was moving quite freely. After six sessions I was pain-free. But on advice, I visited once a month to ensure continued progress.

Then came that fateful day when unusually I accepted a late session.

The procedure was as ever. Dr Ki was his respectful, cheery self. I lay down, needles were inserted, the lamp was placed, and I was left.

After a drowsy hour, I heard the door open. Lying face down, facing away from the door, I had never seen this part of Dr Ki's actions. I heard the lamp rolled away. Needles were gently removed. Now would come the towel and a brief massage.

Wrong. No towel. But cool, smooth fingers circled the bare skin of my lower back. A magic touch, a feminine touch. Who was this? Certainly not Dr Ki,. I tried to turn my head, but was in a helpless position, as the fingers circled my back and then suddenly dived under the loose waistband of my pants, tracing my crevice.

I jerked involuntarily, and a delicate female voice whispered, "Yes, turn onto your back, please."

On my back? Dr Ki had never asked for that. Ah, well, curiosity must be served. I carefully rolled over until I was on my back with my head slightly raised.

Two things became instantly apparent. First, looking down at me, lit by a warm smile, was the most beautiful female Oriental face I had ever seen. Long, black hair hung down towards me as she leaned forward.

Secondly, when I had turned, her gentle hand had been on my upper buttocks. She had let it ride with my turning so that it ended on my lower belly. Trouble was her fingers continued to stroke and wriggle around my belly, occasionally touching into my pubic hair. I feared there was going to be only one reaction to that lovely face and those electrifying fingers. My blood-flow centred as feared.

I moved to sit up, but her free hand pressed on my chest, "Just stay like that, and hear me, please."

Hear her? The sweet rhythmical voice was almost as rousing as her fingers and face.,

This should have been a dream. Dreams are strange, they say. This was no dream, but it was certainly strange as she went on, "Dr Ki had to attend an association meeting. My name is Tia. I am his daughter, his clerk, and his apprentice. Your name is Mark, and you are two years older than me. And you write books."

Her fingers were unfastening my shirt buttons. Not part of normal procedure. "You have been coming here for over twelve months. I've watched for you through the one-way glass. From the very first I've thought you, the most handsome man I'd ever seen."

I might have laughed out loud at that, Not the ugliest, but a generous nose, and unmanageable fair hair kept me some distance from the category she defined.

As her words bathed over me, she opened my shirt, and the fingers of her left hand trailed briefly across my chest. As though frozen, I just lay there, under the spell of her looks, her touch, and her sweet words. It was time to reassert myself, "How do..." I began, struggling to sit up, "you know I write books?"

She admitted, "I eavesdropped. And I heard you tell my father. You have such a manly voice." And she gave me an enigmatic smile.

Her fingers touched my lips, "No talk for a moment." Her head moved closer. Oh, those narrowed, sensuous eyes, "May I kiss you?"

I had never been anything but the instigator with any of the women who have passed through my life, and there had been no one since Rita. "But I've only just met you."

How weak was that?

Her eyes glowed as she replied, "But Mark, for months now, I have been seeing you, and hearing your deep voice. I've wanted to kiss you for ages."

Shocked, yes. But I was also charmed by her frankness. That line of thinking suddenly went haywire as her soft warm lips came into eager contact with mine, and her sweet tasting tongue slipped, like an old friend, along mine.

Pull away? Protest? A stronger-willed person might have immediately resisted. But this lady, just two years younger than my thirty-two years, had she been a witch could not have had me under a stronger spell. I relented.

Our lips and tongues mingled keenly and wetly. Saliva dribbled down our respective chins. It was sheer abandonment as my hand stroked through her luxurious hair to draw her head closer to me. Our kiss was now as wildly passionate as I'd ever known.

And that was the moment when her hand which had circled my lower body, found and gripped my growing hardness. Now, I did pull my lips from hers, knowing that I needed to do something. "I'm not sure that this is—," My next word would have been 'right', but her movement was quicker and more positive than mine.

Her left hand had swiftly undone the lower buttons on her white medical coverall, and my face was level with the black smudge of hair on her mound, highlighted by the olive skin. Under the coverall she was naked.

All of this performed so swiftly that there was still time for her to grab my right hand, lean close to the bed, I had little choice, as, spreading her legs wider, she placed my hand purposefully into the heated wetness of her pink folds.

God, she was so wet, I just could not resist stroking deeper and letting my fingers linger around her entry. Then I drew them back to where the bud of her clit was opening out, like a precious seedling. For the first time, I felt I was giving something.

It was a delight to hear her gently moan, and then gasp, "I've wanted this for so long. Your fingers caressing my clit, your cock perfect as I knew it would be, so hard and hot in my hand. I want it everywhere, but first, where it really belongs."

Her coverall fell to the floor, as, naked, and as nimble as a squirrel she leapt onto the narrow bed, straddling my body so we were face to face, as she expertly placed my cock head at her divine entrance.

There was no doubt that I was being treated by a very experienced lady.

To me the situation was bizarre. Here was I, half-believing that this couldn't be happening and half-longing for the next stage.

That next stage was close as she leaned her body forward and her small, elegant breasts, pressed against my bared chest, while she delivered a sweet brief kiss to my very willing lips. Then she sat back on me, and with one lift and drop of her hips, my cock glided easily into her, like an invited guest.

Now it really began. Now, all my doubts and misgivings suddenly vanished and pure, raw desire took over. I heaved my hips up as she pressed down, and my cock drove up to the very hilt in the warm, dripping creaminess of her. My hands first cupped each of her exquisitely shaped, small breasts, fondling each one, then I took one jutting dark nipple between my fingers and thumb gave it sharp little tugs and rubs.

She was already giving occasional vocalisations and I felt my cock strike against her cervix as our upward thrust and downward presses hit a natural rhythm. Grunted gasps like, "More, more." And "Mark, yes." But when I started tugging her nipple she gave out a series of yelping squeals and her whole body squirmed down on me. Intoxicating.

Her eyes had been closed in that alluring face, but now they came wide open as she, huskily begged, "My clit, Mark. Play with my clit." And she lay back on her elbows, legs spread wide, so I could see where my cock was beginning its active lodging, but within the pinkness of the dark jungle around it I could easily spot my target, fully bloomed now.

A rising pressure in my balls began to trouble me. A climax was close, and I didn't wish to be a prem ex. It had been a long time since Rita. But as soon as my fingers began dabbling around her wet clit, Tia's motions became wilder, as she rose and sank faster on my frantic cock. Her eyes were tight shut, but her mouth mumbled. "Oh, yes, Oh, yes. Give it. Yes." Grinding herself more and more desperately on me.

That was too much for me. All control gone, I thrust up into her delicious realms of ooze, matching her own eager thrashing, with equal power as my seed spouted and shot into her depths.

Tia was so on the verge that on my first deeper upsurge, she squealed, "Oh, my God." And on a rousing crescendo of mutual gasps, moans and in, her case, squeals, our juices mingled.

I would have so liked to twist her, so I was on top for those final thrusts but the spasming of her lower body was a fired-up substitute. It seemed that my pulsing into her would never end, and on each one, I heard Tia's, "Mmm," of appreciation.

At last, we quietened, and as my hardness waned and slipped out of her, Tia lifted her left leg to join her right and she heaved herself up alongside me so she could lie with her head on my shoulder, her back against the wall. It was a good feeling.

When we had both caught our breaths and collected our thoughts, she whispered, "Thank you."

"For what?"

"You could I have refused."

I laughed, totally relaxed with her now, "You were too strong for me. I'm going to tell the management."

Her face turned up to mine, anxiously, "You won't tell my father, will you?"

I kissed her gently, "Not unless you want to boast. Of course, I won't."

We lay silent for a while. I had one hand on a breast, and she snuggled against it as she whispered, "I've had many men."

"I know."

Her face was immediately close to mine, "How do you know?"

Aware that my answer had to be tactful, I said, "Your confidence when it comes to matters of intimacy. You know what you like."

She wriggled against me, and I was aware of our mingled juices leaking out of her, as she admitted, "I do like sex. I don't think I'm nympho, but if I haven't had it for, say, three days I get all aches and, like, pins and needles down there."

"So, I was today's fill-in, eh?"

She sat up, a mock angry expression on her face, "No, you are something else."

"What?"

She did not answer but her naked body scrambled over mine as she said, "Come on. We need cleaning up." Holding the doorknob, she turned back, "Better shed those pants. You'll not get far with them around your ankles."

I slowly swung my legs off the bed, viewing the full spectacle of her naked body. Slender, not a trace of excess flesh. Small well-shaped breasts that had felt so good and responsive under my hands. The curves of the rest of her body complimented them, belly, waist, hip to smooth thigh, which was topped by that small, black tuft, all so captivating.

As I bent to free my feet from the pants, I asked, "Were you born here?"

She gave a little giggle, "I was born in China."

"Did you live there long?"

"Three weeks." And she was delighted at the puzzled expression that must have shown on my face. "My mother was eight months pregnant when my parents travelled to China for my grandfather's, on my father's side, funeral. I was born the day after the funeral.

She smiled, as I stood up, tall and naked, "My father insists that I have inherited some of my grandfather's genes." She giggled, "If true, I can't help thinking that he must have been a very sexy man."

That little piece of her history had me wondering whether I wasn't already too close and wasn't that where I wouldn't mind being.

Naked we walked, hand in hand, out onto the corridor, where Tia passed two doors before opening the third. I found we were in a small, white-tiled shower room. Only a small sink and what looked like a limited shower cubicle. I told her that.

"Cosy!" she smiled, opening the cubicle, and turning on the shower. Quickly there was steam everywhere. She stepped into the teeming water, and turned to face me, holding out her arms invitingly.

For just a moment, I was transfixed. Enchanted by the total enticing radiance of every part of her, as the water seemed to kiss her skin eagerly. From that beguiling Oriental face down to where the steaming streams, scoured through her small, black bush she aroused me, and I felt it in my rising hardness.

Without further delay, I was in her arms, and we pulled each other close, as our lips came together, and our bellies met while the water rained down upon us. Almost lost in the wonder of our closeness, I took her breathless, "Mmmm," to be in response to her rolling her belly against my cock.

After that few moments of watery fervour, Tia drew back slightly and handed me soap and sponge. "Soap and sponge, clean and thrill me."

Through the mist of steam and tumbling droplets, I grinned, laid the sponge to one side, rubbed soap onto my hands, and told her, "Skin on skin is better."

My soapy hands started on her shoulders, but quickly moved over those bold little breasts, which had her gasping, "Oh, yes, yes."

As my hands lingered there, she began moving her own loaded hands over my back and chest, muttering the occasional word which the falling water drowned out. Then she dropped her hands lower and quickly wrapped cleansing fingers around my very rigid cock. This time I did hear her growl, "Oh, this needs prompt attention." While her other probing hand stroked with surprising gentility over my scrotum.

I wondered how much of that erotic treatment I could take before I came. But my own hand had reached down to soap between her parted thighs. Some of the hair down there was juice crusted and needed extra scrubbing, and in doing that my fingers slipped inside her.

I felt her body tense, as she scolded, "You're supposed to be washing me."

I chuckled, "Sorry, my fingers slipped in all the soap."

Those dark, narrow eyes looked at me disbelievingly. "You'll pay for that," she laughed, a charming tinkling sound.

Soon, soaping over, we stood and turned full circles, allowing foam to wash away. Tia switched off the shower, so I turned to open the shower doors, but she stopped me.

"Just one thing more," she whispered, as I began gently fingering her breast.

"What?"

"This, payback time," she said, and before I could even think, she had dropped to her knees and her open mouth had taken my solid cock right to the back of her throat. I tried to protest, although I wouldn't have known what I was protesting about. It was a mesmerising gesture.

Her lips moved warmly back and forward along my length, and that would have been sufficient to set me away. But, with those beautiful, narrow, dark eyes looking up at me for reaction, she was also delivering an almighty sucking action with her tongue. I knew I wasn't going to be able to withstand this. Tia sensed it too.

She relaxed her mouth, drew back her head, until the purple head of my throbbing cock rested on her full lower lip and she asked, "May I swallow your stuff?"

What kind of question was that? I knew I wasn't far from letting go. But it was a strange request. Defining my hesitation, she added, "I've never swallowed for any man."

So, did that make it a gift? Did that make my answer any easier? Uncertainly, I said, "Only if you really want to."

That was all it took. My eager erection was at the back of her throat and now her sucking action was fierce, almost vicious. Within less than a minute, I was pulsing, pulsing, spurting my seed down that lovely throat. I was unable to control the humping of my hips into that gorgeous face, as I felt her hands on the side of my head as though urging me on.

At last it was over, and as she came up to me wiping lost trickles from the corner of her mouth, she asked, "Was that good?" Such an innocent question.

"I'm very grateful," I said truthfully. "But dried now. Quickly, I've got something to do."

Her face showed her disappointment, "You're going somewhere?"

"I certainly am," I told her, It was my turn to take over. Teasing her might be cruel but it might help me see how the land lay. Was I already as hooked on this bountiful lady as I thought?

Dried and naked, we reached the room where we had started. As I opened the door she asked again, "Where are you going?"

I guided her inside, turned her to face me, planted my lips on hers, before telling her, "I'm due in a few minutes," My hand dropped to her mound and my fingers curled into the moist groove beyond, as I completed, "Right here."

She gave a deep intake of breath, as I said, "My turn now. Would you just lie back on the bed?" I sat on the edge of the bed, temporarily.

Frowning uncertainly, she did as I asked, "A little higher. I'll need space."

She wriggled back, lying with her wet black hair spread fan-like around her wonderful face. Sitting half turned towards her, I could happily absorb the rest of her enticing body. I leaned my face close to hers, and while one hand cupped one divine breast, kissed her gently before saying, "You don't mind me touching you?"

"Stupid question."

I laughed, but added, "With my lips?" And immediately covered her left nipple with my mouth and sucked gently, while I caressed with the hand that had been there down over her smooth belly to rest on her cute jet-black mound

"Mmm," she murmured. "This the start of your teasing?"

I had stood up facing the bed, but I continued my ministrations around her mound allowing my index finger to touch into her dampness, while my other hand picked up a small bolster from under the bed. Sidling to the foot of the bed, from where I could view the pink promise between her slightly parted thighs, I told her, "I'll leave it up to you to decide whether I am teasing or not."

From that point, it was all action. I scrambled onto the bed, on my knees, between Tia's parted legs. Grasping her thighs, I parted them further, raising them, hoping to get the bolster beneath her buttocks. Tia was breathing heavily and I'm sure that she lifted herself, ever so slightly to enable me to complete that task.

And there it all was, set out before my eyes, like some enthralling, pink-blossomed bloom, after rain. For there was no doubt the vision was enhanced by the succulent stream of her juices.