The Last and the First

With what felt like squadrons of butterflies performing aerobatics in my stomach I took a deep breath and knocked on the door. Getting the summons to enter, I walked in and looked at the woman lying in front of me. Her head was turned away so all I could see was her blonde hair and below it her naked back curving down to the rise of her hips which were covered in a pristine white towel that extended a few inches down her thighs.

I briefly wondered what, if anything, she was wearing beneath the towel and glanced at the chair. A lilac coloured bra was dangling from the back and a scrap of matching lace sat on top of he other clothes. It seemed she was naked. I tried to take another discreet deep breath.

This was an important moment; the start of my new life as a professional massage therapist and this was my first proper client. Nor was this one of the anonymous 'models' we had worked on during training at the local college. I knew this woman; she was Vicky, a neighbour taking advantage of a cheap introductory offer I had delivered in the area. She was also the wife of my friend Tom. And now she was lying here almost naked and, instead of being able to hear the other students in adjoining cubicles at the college I was alone with her in the converted back bedroom of my home. It felt very strange.

She was also the first woman I had really been alone with for eighteen months. That's how long it was since my wife, Marie, had died after a mercifully short illness, an event that had left me shattered and caused me to rethink my own life. Our various insurance policies had paid off the mortgage and left a bit of a nest egg. I could either carry on with my job, which had once been exciting but which, like so many others, had degenerated into staring into a computer all day or I could take off in a new direction. So I had taken redundancy and retrained as a masseur. Now I was going to find out if it really was for me. Time for another deep breath.

I crossed to where the oil was warming and began to spread it over Vicky's back. Thankfully the familiar motions became to calm the butterflies and we both relaxed into the massage with Vicky giving the occasional appreciative sigh or moan as I teased the knots from her shoulders and neck. As my hands pushed up her spine and then swept down her ribs I was careful to keep my fingers away from her breasts. I was starting to enjoy the rhythm and the contact.

I moved down to her legs and rearranged the drape to reveal her thigh and buttock but to ensure everything else was covered. "What on earth are you doing?" she asked.

I explained this was the ethically correct way to do it and she simply said: "Good grief" before sinking her head back into the doughnut in the massage table. I worked on her calves and thighs with long, sweeping strokes letting myself get lost in the rhythm but being careful to keep everything within the rules and regulations I had had hammered into me at college. I did not want to get struck off on my first massage and while I knew Vicky reasonably well it had always been as a friend of Marie or with Tom.

With one side done I began rearranging the towel to cover the area I'd finished working on and reveal the other. Vicky looked up and asked: "Is all this bloody origami really necessary? It's so distracting."

Again I explained it was normal practice to preserve her modesty. "My modesty?" she replied. "I'm well past worrying about that at my age. I am what I am and if people don't like it they can look the other way. Tom and I go to nudist beaches on holiday so it wouldn't be the first time I've been on display and I'm sure you must have seen naked women before." With that she reached down and picked up the towel before tossing it onto the chair with her clothes.

"Er..well, Vicky, I am supposed to...." I began but she cut me off.

"Roger, we're alone in the house, aren't we? Unless you think the massage police are going to kick the door down and come running up stairs we're two grown-ups who can organise a simple massage exactly as we want. Can't we? I prefer not to have all this faffing about with towels interrupting my massage and unless you find me so revolting that you can't cope I'd like it this way please," she said. "OK?"

"Well I suppose the client is always right, " I said with more confidence than I felt and wondering what Tom would make of my standing here staring at his wife's nether lips with their sparse cover of downy blonde hairs.

The butterflies were back in action but I began working on Vicky's right calf. With each sweep my eyes went straight to where her legs joined. Next was her thigh and I was even more conscious of trying to avoid running my fingers too high. As I worked her buttock I felt her wriggle and spread her legs a little more. Her her lips parted, glistening slightly in the subdued light. I could feel an unfamiliar tightening in my groin though thankfully it remained under control.

Soon it was time from her to turn over. Her breasts were full with large pink nipples and her tummy slightly rounded leading down to a blonde bush. Her colouring was certainly natural.

I began by working on her arms. At least there were no ethical minefields here. Her shoulders did raise the problem of how far down her chest to go but at least with everything on display I knew exactly where it all was to avoid it. Similarly with her stomach I was able to ensure that I did not stray into her pubic hair.

Her thighs were a different matter. Again it was impossible to avoid looking at her cleft which was now even more moist and I could smell her arousal as I worked just inches from source of her juices. Neither of us spoke and fortunately Vicky kept her eyes closed so could not see the fascination I was trying to conceal.

At last, after a few final sweeps and some fingers dancing I could say: "There. How was that?"

"Mmmm," she almost purred. "That was marvellous. You certainly have the gift and you certainly got rid of all the tension I had when I arrived" There was a pause before she added: "However, I seem to have picked up some more while I've been here. Can you work on that?"

Red lights and alarm bells were going off in my head. I was pretty sure I knew what she meant but did not know what to say. "Tension?" I asked.

"Tension," she replied. And having plucked up the courage to ask she was determined not to be misunderstood. "Here," she said running a finger through her bush. "You missed out massaging here."

With that she reached for my hand and placed it on her mound.

This was very dodgy ground. We'd talked about this kind of situation in classes, although more as a problem for a masseuse with a male client than for a masseur with a female. Until now the idea of a female client propositioning me had seemed a bit of a joke. I knew what I was supposed to say but how would Vicky react if I refused? And more to the point I was finding it very arousing myself. How often do you get a friend's wife naked asking for you to play with her?

Almost of its own accord my finger began tracing the line of her lips, sliding through the slippery lubrication she had been producing for almost the last hour. She moaned and arched her back as my finger brushed her clitoris and her hands went to her own nipples, brushing her fingers backwards and forwards over them.

She was so wet that my finger slipped easily inside. She felt tight and her muscles squeezed me. Her breathing became more uneven and her neck became flushed as I continued to play with her. She whispered something which I did not catch and asked her to repeat it. "Lick me," she breathed.

I moved her further down the table until her legs were hanging down. I knelt between them and moved my face towards her pussy. The scent was now almost intoxicating and I stopped a moment to inhale her perfume. I curled my tongue and licked the full length of her lips to flick her clit. It had been almost two years since I had last done this. I've always enjoyed eating women although no one except Marie in the last twenty years. Despite the long gap Vicky's taste was deliciously familiar yet slightly different. Even so I buried my face in her and carried on licking and sucking as she had a strong orgasm, moaning so loudly I feared it would be audible outside. Finally she gently pushed my face away saying: "No more, please, no more."

I got back to my feet and went and stood by her side smiling down at her.

"God that was fabulous," she said before running her hand over my tracksuit bottoms where my erection was forming a tent. I'd been so intent on what I was doing I had not noticed it.

"Now you're the one with tension," she said. "Come here." She rolled off the table and knelt in front of me, reaching up for the waistband of my tracksuit and pulled them and my underpants down in a single move. My cock sprang out, almost hitting her in the face. She took it in her hand and rubbed it before using her thumb to smear a pearl of pre-cum around the head. She leaned forward and took the head into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it. My knees almost gave way at the exquisite, long-forgotten sensations. I think it was only the shock that prevented me coming straight away but she could feel my excitement.

She helped me out of the trousers before standing up and peeling off my polo shirt. "Let's take this somewhere more comfortable," she said, taking my hand and leading me across the landing to the master bedroom. Our houses are an identical design so she knew exactly where to go.

I felt a pang of guilt as we moved into the bedroom Marie and I had shared and she pushed me gently onto the bed. With no more preamble or foreplay she straddled me, reached down for my cock and sank herself down onto it. She was so wet I slide in to the hilt easily. She looked into my eyes and said: "I only come once so this is just for you now. Just enjoy it. It's OK to come inside me."

She gave my cock a squeeze with her internal; muscles and began to ride me. I'd like to say that I lasted for hours, took her in every position and left her a quivering post-orgasmic wreck but it had been too long for that. Probably within a couple of minutes I felt the fluids rising and I shot what felt like two years' pent up sperm into her.

After I had finished coming she lay down on top of me and for the first time she kissed me gently on the lips. "You needed that, didn't you?" she said. "You've been the grieving widower for long enough, Roger. It's time for you come back now though not with me. That was a one-off. I'm not looking for an affair or to leave Tom. But Marie asked us all to make sure you were OK after she was gone. She asked us to look after you. I'm not sure she had this in mind at the time but I can't help feeling she'd approve. She wanted you to be happy."

As she talked about Marie something broke inside me and I began sobbing and the tears came. We lay there for a long time and she held me, whispering soothingly as if to a distraught child as the tears flowed as they had not done for so long. Finally we got up and dressed. Vicky gave me a big hug before she left and said: "Neither of us will ever talk about this to anyone" and I nodded.

I went and sat at my desk feeling shell shocked and thinking about what had happened. Vicky was right it was time to move on though I was not at all sure I knew how. Slowly I looked around and my eyes fell on my diary and the handful of clients I had booked in that week. I saw that in three days' time I had Stella, another of Marie's friends.

This could be a very interesting week.