The House Group Leader's Wife Pt. 07

Chapter 18

It was a chance meeting at church that prompted what turned out to be an encounter that was nothing short of explosive between two of the newer members of the congregation.

Meiling had heard such good things about Harper's massage skills that when they bumped into each other as Harper was heading towards her car to fetch Todd from the airport as soon as the main service had ended, the Chinese postgraduate student asked her on spec if she would be able to give her a massage, saying that her shoulders were giving her trouble.

Harper was apologetic, but explained that she herself was suffering from lower back trouble and had cancelled her appointments for the next few days. This opportunity proved too much for Meiling to resist, so she boldly told Harper that she used to give massages in Shanghai and would be glad to help her out. Her shoulder problem seemed to have disappeared on the spot.

Harper, though less than convinced of Meiling's bona fides, was nonetheless intrigued at the idea of being on the massage table under the Oriental girl's hands. So, knowing that she would be at home the following day, she suggested that Meiling came over at eleven o'clock. After the massage, she suggested, with unintended innuendo, that they might eat something.

It was normal for Harper's clients to wear their underclothes when they received a massage. Indeed, if the problem was with the upper body, then they would leave their pants, etc. on as well. Another feature of her massages is that they rarely included the use of oil, unless the client especially requested it. So when she prepared the massage room, she lit candles as usual but put away the various lotions that usually remained on display. She didn't want to be drenched in oil by an inexperienced practitioner, which she was convinced the Chinese girl would be.

When Harper answered the door ten minutes before their appointment, Meiling was wearing a jacket and yoga pants, with laceless trainers on her feet. She was carrying a backpack, which Harper imagined might contain a bottle of so-called massage oil - the type of thing you could pick up at the drugstore. Her hunch was correct, though, as we shall see, the bag contained other items besides.

Once they got to the massage room, Harper took off her T-shirt, under which she was wearing a magenta sports bra. She slipped out of her tracksuit pants, under which she was wearing a pair of Lycra shorts, and got onto the table. Meiling, who had been readying herself at the other end of the room, walked down to where Harper was lying and touched her lightly on the shoulder. She too had changed, Harper couldn't help but noticing, as her nipples were showing prominently through the T-shirt she had been wearing under her jacket.

"I'll stick with your neck and shoulders and then move down," said Meiling with her customary confidence.

"Sure," said Harper, finding it odd to be in a massage room, but not the one in control.

Meiling's approach (technique would be too strong a word for it) wasn't too bad, all things considered, Harper reflected. She liked to use a lot of chopping, as if she had studied massage at a school that taught Bruce Lee kung fu really badly. But her hands were strong and she put her back into the work. Ten out of ten for effort, at any rate. The first tipping point came when she poured far too much oil onto Harper's back. Harper could feel it running down her side to the sheet beneath. Okay, so she'd have to wash it after the session anyway, but Meiling's cavalier approach to the tools of her trade was beginning to annoy her.

"Oops!" said Meiling theatrically. "I've got some oil on your beautiful sports bra. Why don't you lift yourself up and I'll help you out of it."

Harper hardly thought this was necessary but she found herself doing what she was told anyway. The feeling of her breasts on the crisp sheet sent a frisson through her body, which was followed in quick order by another as Meiling made an effort to stop more oil from reaching the bed, her fingers lingering longer than was necessary on the outer part of Harper's right breast.

She poured another load of oil onto her lower back, with the inevitable result - oil on Harper's Lycra shorts. Harper had already anticipated this, and had decided that she would respond with a firm "No" to any attempt by her masseuse to separate her from the last line of defence against her wandering hands. Meiling took it in good part, obtaining a similar result by letting her fingers go deep under the elasticated waist onto the higher parts of Harper's buttocks.

"I really need to get into your glutes," she said. "I can feel so many knots there."

Meiling took Harper's silence as permission for her to continue her exploration of her butt.

"Fuck it!" Harper thought. "She's hardly touched my lower back and that's where the trouble is."

Both her hands were now under the Lycra, stretching it so much that it was likely to go out of shape.

"It really would be much easier if you lost the shorts," said Meiling. "All the parts of your body are connected, and the gluteus maximus is the largest muscle in the human body. Your lower back pain is intimately connected with the stress on your glutes, and I can relieve that stress for you and help ease your pain."

It all sounded so reasonable that when Harper showed the slightest sign of weakness, lifting herself off the table a fraction with her hands (with the sole idea of shaking the stiffness out of her body, Meiling had whipped her shorts off and was rolling them down over her calves and, before Harper could react, right off her body.

Meiling beheld that body spread out before her and let out a low whistle.

"Those clothes you wear don't do you any favors," she said. "You have one hot body!"

Harper, stunned by all that was happening so fast, found the words she wanted to say impossible to give utterance to.

"Right, let's apply a little oil to that ass!" Meiling said, directing a generous stream at the cleft between her cheeks, a cleft which was as narrow as it could be, given that her legs were wedged close together.

She watched as much of the oil ran headed towards Harper's barely visible slit, while a good portion pooled above her equally hidden asshole. She noted the Californian's reaction when some of the oil presumably found its way into her anus, her hands grabbing at the sheet at the head of the table.

"First things first!" said Meiling, forcing Harper's legs apart and revealing her delightful quim, with its understated folds that protected the central passage like levees each side of a canal.

Harper braced herself for an assault by the Oriental girl's fingers - or maybe even her tongue. Instead, she returned to the ass over which she had made such a fuss and started beating it with those ludicrous chops.

"You can feel the tension being released, right?" she said.

Harper mumbled her assent, even if the only effect of Meiling's unconventional massage therapy was to ramp up the tension she was feeling - the sexual tension.

"It's rather warm in here, isn't it?" said Meiling, peeling off her T-shirt, followed in short order by her shoes and her yoga pants.

Emptying most of the rest of the oil over her own breasts and stomach, Meiling rubbed it in quickly before sliding along Harper's body until her head was level with the other woman's. She could see one of Harper's eyes, and it was open wide, expressing something which might be trepidation or might be excitement, or might be a combination of the two.

Meiling wanted to wrap her thick lips round Harper's lovely narrow lips, but wasn't in the best position to manage it. So, instead, she raised her upper body and massaged Harper's upper back with her full breasts. In spite of herself (she still felt quite uncomfortable being on a massage table and not being the one in charge), Harper moaned softly. Meiling smiled to herself, then dropped down onto Harper's body again and began to rub her pussy on Harper's ass. She exhaled deeply as she felt her swollen pussy lips gliding along the Californian's tight ass, opening a little as they did so.

She could tell Harper to flip over and bring her into submission in a matter of seconds or she could continue to tease her some more. She was in no hurry, so she continued to rub her sensually until Harper made it clear that she wanted more. She did this in the first instance by raising herself up with her hands, turning her head and seeking out Meiling's mouth. They kissed without restraint, the frightening intensity of Harper's arousal at last finding a measure of release.

Meiling got on her knees, allowing Harper to turn over and open herself fully up to the woman who might have been a hopeless masseuse but who more than compensated for that with her skill in the art of love.

Now in a more comfortable position, Harper wrestled Meiling's tongue with her own serpentine muscle; each woman pretending to seek to dominate the other, as the roles of supremacist and subordinate had been allotted long ago. Meiling descended to Harper's neatly proportioned breasts (smaller than her own) and marvelled at the flat nipples, which hardly rose above the surface of the surrounding areolas. She poured the remaining oil over the two hard nubs and began to squeeze them, then work on them with her lips and her tongue.

Finding that they refused to budge, she tried to raise them by using her teeth as pliers, and had almost given them up as a bad job, when she hit on the simple expedient of massaging the areola on which each sat. This gave her something to work with, and soon, under the influence of her skilful tongue, the tumescent nipples were sending back messages to Harper's brain, which in turn relayed the messages to her vocal chords, which began to release moans, and to her vagina, which accelerated the processing of moistening, which had been ongoing since the massage began.

Not someone to rest on her laurels, Meiling continued her journey down Harper's body, sliding down until she was poised above the magnificent pussy which lay beneath her neatly trimmed bush. She was amazed at how wet the woman was, until she realized that much of the dampness had been caused by the oil. She couldn't help feeling, though, that she would soon find that the state of the inside of her pussy would match the state of the outside, and there was no way that that could be blamed on the oil.

Out of the blue, Harper (not the most vocal or the most demonstrative of lovers) placed her hands on Meiling's head and pushed her down to her sex.

"I need to come," she said, with commendable clarity and economy of expression.

"This Harper," Meiling thought. "She doesn't make you feel like a million dollars exactly, and sometimes I feel she would find the same pleasure with a robot as she finds with a flesh and blood woman, but there's something that really gets under your skin about her funny ways."

Meiling started to lick her outer lips, but Harper wasn't interested.

"Lick me out!" she told Meiling, pressing her head down hard, as if she actually wanted that inside her too.

Meiling took the hint. Making a V of two fingers of her left hand, she placed them on Harper's labia, easing access to her inner folds. These she then began to lick, at first without urgency but, as the pressure was reapplied to her head by Harper, with increased intensity.

"Deeper," Harper said simply.

Meiling drove her tongue as far into Harper's vagina as she could, and felt her way around the unfamiliar territory. Still, Harper wasn't satisfied.

"Harder!" she said with authority.

It was the first time she had raised her voice.

The Chinese girl had no choice but to accede to Harper's command, using her tongue so hard that it began to ache. But that was the least of her problems. The major one was that Harper was clearly still far from coming. Meiling frankly couldn't believe it. She'd done such a good job of the seduction and she had obviously gotten Harper really aroused. So why wasn't she able to clinch the deal? No one had ever been able to resist her charm. No man, and certainly no woman.

It was then that she remembered the shudder which Harper had given when the oil infiltrated her asshole. She was staring the solution in the face. Well, she wasn't at the moment but she soon would be.

"Get up on all fours!" Meiling positively barked at the Californian.

Harper, knowing what about to come, started to make the same kind of show of resistance as she had put on for Marcia a few months earlier.

"Higher!" said Meiling, already licking her asshole feverishly.

"No! Don't! Stop it! I don't like it!" cried Harper - utterly shorn of her cool persona.

Refusing to dignify such lies with a response, Meiling kept up her assault on the girl's anus - her tongue no longer tired, her muscles no longer aching. Harper was clearly edging towards the precipice, but she was determined not to tumble off the cliff without a fight.

"I asked you to stop. I didn't give you permission to violate me in this way."

Meiling really had to give it to those Californians. Even when they were being brought to the heights of orgasmic pleasure, they could still find time to talk about their rights. She couldn't remain silent for any longer.

"I'm not listening any more to your fake news and your whiny cognitive dissonance. You're lucky that I'm still willing to bring you off. I am going to put my fingers in your cunt and you are going to come."

Meiling was as good as her word, her prediction proving to be absolutely spot on, as Harper took the kind of trip which she hadn't been on since her student days, when she had played around with hallucinogenic drugs.

"Stay there!" Meiling barked at Harper as she dismounted from the table. "Keep that ass high!"

Harper heard the zipper of Meiling's backpack open and the ominous sound of metal clinking against plastic - or was it silicone? Harper knew that Meiling wished to violate her some more, but she drew the line at strap-ons. She'd had a bad experience with one back in her college days in the parking lot of a seedy lesbian bar in Stockton. But still she didn't move - afraid of incurring the Chinese girl's wrath. She thought it better, anyway, to reason with her. It proved to be a big mistake.

"I don't want you to use that thing on me," she said, as Meiling was applying generous amounts of lube to it across the room.

"'Don't want this!' 'Don't want that!"'

Meiling was mocking Harper, adopting her whiny, nasal tone and exaggerating it for dramatic purposes.

"The trouble with you is that you know exactly what you want, but you can't get past your entitled, white background. You think you have to police the world for people like me, who are not so enlightened as you. You think you are protecting us minorities and educating us, but in fact you are holding us back because you won't let us make our own way in the world, won't let us make our own mistakes, even though you would defend with your life your own right to fuck things up."

Harper listened to what Meiling was saying without comment, her attention riveted on the girl's intentions as she climbed back on the table, pushed Harper's ass higher. As yet, she could feel no trace of the black monster, which seemed almost as big as a nightstick. She thought perhaps that Meiling had slipped it off and left it at the foot of the table.

"You treat Todd so badly," continued Meiling, "I wouldn't be surprised if he turned to other women to satisfy his needs."

"You have no right to talk about my husband like that," Harper replied, clearly angered, but prevented from speaking more strongly by the vulnerable position she found herself in.

"There you go again, going on about your rights. Don't you ever think of Todd's rights?"

"I don't know what you are talking about," replied Harper defensively. "In fact, I want you to leave."

"I'm talking about his right to enjoy sexual relations with his wife," Meiling continued, ignoring Harper's little display of petulance.

"We have great sex, if you must know," Harper confided in the woman she had only just asked to clear off.

"But you won't let him fuck you in the ass, will you?"

"I told you already, I don't like it."

"Your body tells me different, very different," said Meiling, softly and sympathetically.

"I, I, look, I find it demeaning."

"No you don't," Meiling shot back, not allowing Harper the chance to indulge in the defence mechanism that was her psychobabble.

"This is what you want, Harper," Meiling said in a low, almost gravelly voice, as she brought the fake cock to Harper's puckered anus.

"Look, you can fuck my cunt, if you want," Harper said - her voice curiously flat.

Or was that a hint of disappointment that Meiling could detect in the Californian's voice?

"Oh, I will, Harper, I will. But all in good time. First things first."

Harper had no time to consider the significance of these words before the first part of the shiny cock had penetrated her asshole.

"Oh, fuck!" Harper groaned.

"I know how much you want it, Harper. We both know how much you want it."

Meiling eased the dildo in deeper, encouraged by the way Harper was responding.

"Imagine how much better a real cock would be, Harper. Think of the pleasure you would get from Todd's thick penis sliding in and out of your beautiful butt."

"Do you really think it's beautiful?" Harper asked, even as Meiling continued to probe more deeply.

"It's really, really beautiful," the Chinese girl replied. "You must drive Todd crazy by refusing to let him give you pleasure there."

"He has said something," Harper acknowledged.

"Can you take any more?" Meiling asked softly.

"I think so, yes," Harper replied, bracing herself for the kind of pounding she had thought she'd never get to enjoy.

Meiling adjusted her position and withdrew the cock almost to the entrance of Harper's anus before moving it forward with decision.

"Aargh!" Harper gurgled, involuntarily relaxing her sphincter in order to facilitate the passage of the instrument of pleasure.

Meiling kept pushing until five whole inches were inside the Californian, filling her entire rectum. Then she started to pump her, not allowing herself to cross the line between pleasure and pain. Perhaps Harper wouldn't have noticed anyway, as she had started to yell, telling Meiling not to stop. Monitoring Harper's journey to orgasm carefully, Meiling's job was made easy for her when the girl's yells turned to howls.

"Yeah, release it all, now, baby!" Meiling encouraged her - not that she needed any encouragement.

"Yes! Yes! Fuck!" cried Harper, as the waves of her first anal orgasm crashed about her.

After a minute (maybe more) Meiling withdrew the phallus. She reckoned Harper had earned herself a rest. Perhaps they could take this to the bedroom. She had, though, reckoned without a regenerated Harper, for whom rest was the very last thing on her mind. In just three words she summed up her plans for the next ten minutes or so.

"Fuck my cunt!"

She clearly wanted to be taken from behind, and equally clearly she was in no mood to waste time. Meiling, though, was able to take a step back and consider the situation with a little more objectivity. Harper was on a high after her anal treat, and essentially wanted another quick fix. Meiling knew this wasn't in Harper's best interests; certainly not if she were to learn to fulfill her full potential as a lover.

Therefore, rather than give in to her compulsive personality and fuck her with the strap-on at once, Meiling bent down and, while one finger lightly rubbed her anus, began to eat her out once more. Harper was ultimately unconcerned about how Meiling progressed, as long as she was serving her. The release she had felt when Meiling overcame her fear of anal sex had been sexual as well as emotional. All of a sudden, she was hungry for more, the wilder the better.