The Massage

The sensation was always a heady one for Trevor, and he could tell that Annette was profoundly moved as well. In fact, he quickly understood that the size of his member was a bit larger than she was used to, as her eyes widened when he plunged the final few inches of his shaft into her pussy. For a time he thrust his hips back and forth, watching his cock going in and out of her; then he draped his body over hers, relishing the feel of the slippery oil that now transferred itself from her stomach and breasts to his torso. After a tender gaze at her face, he lowered his mouth onto hers for a long, deep kiss.

He continued to pummel her with his strong thrusts, using his hands to stroke her face, shoulders, breasts, and bottom. Her legs wrapped themselves around his, but not so tightly as to impede his actions. Little grunts of satisfaction were being forced from both their mouths as they got into a synchronized rhythm.

He could easily have finished the task here, and it took incredible fortitude to halt his pumping and pull out. She registered her complaint with a little cry, but he was determined to give her the full treatment she had asked for.

Staring down at her, he said, "Would you like to turn over?"

She gave an absent nod and, as he got off the table and stood—a little weak-kneed, admittedly—next to it, she flipped herself over onto her stomach. He had her keep her legs together this time, and then he climbed back onto the table, his legs on either side of her hips. That coating of her anus with his oily fingers had not been for naught! He took his own cock—now glistening with her juices—in his hand and brought it to the threshold of her orifice. But before going in he said:

"Annette, have you done this before?"

She took a while to respond. "Um, a long, long time ago."

He pondered that answer. Was it during her wild college days, wherever they might have been? Was it with a lover who had preceded her husband in her bed? Somehow he sensed that her current husband was unwilling to engage in this practice—and that she had sorely missed it.

He knew that, if it really had been years—or decades—since she had done this, there might be some pain involved. Sure enough, the moment he inserted the tip of his member into her anus, she let out a little whine and instinctively tightened her sphincter. He had to knead her bottom with his hands and say, "Just relax, dear," before she loosened her muscles to allow him further entry.

She couldn't see what he was doing, but he could; and he loved the spectacle of his member disappearing slowly into that forbidden area. He didn't go all the way in, realizing that Annette might find it uncomfortable; as it was, her eyes were bulging and her mouth had dropped from the long-forgotten sensation. So he stopped after having gotten about six inches into her.

Then he draped himself over her prone form, nestling his head next to hers and seizing her breasts with both hands. He ground his hips into her, and he saw that her tongue was again protruding a little from her mouth; some soft choking sounds were emerging from her throat. She may in fact have been in some pain, but she clearly was enjoying the experience, thrusting her own hips against him as if tacitly wanting him to enter her more deeply.

This incredible session—one of the best he had ever had—was rapidly reaching a culmination. His own grunts signaled the imminence of his own climax, and she was urging him to complete the task. But then he pulled out abruptly and shot his seed all over her bottom, sending dollop after dollop onto those heavenly hemispheres before he was drained.

He collapsed on top of her, utterly exhausted. She seemed to enjoy the weight of him on herself, as she made no protest and didn't ask him to get off. But she did have one complaint.

"You—you should have come in me," she chided.

"I didn't know if you wanted that," he said. "Some women—" Especially married women who think the exchanging of bodily fluids is the very definition of that outmoded "sin" called adultery.

"Well, I did," she said, then added with a glint in her eye: "Maybe next time."

Oh, so there's going to be a next time, eh? Well, he wasn't surprised at that. He had, if he did say so himself, done a pretty good job at stimulating both her and himself.

He got off of her and stood on the floor next to the table, quickly grabbing some Kleenex to wipe off his copious emission from her back and bottom. The session was essentially over, and the time had come for them to resume their separate lives after this intense union of body and mind.

Annette was experiencing that devastating sense of emptiness that follows after a man withdraws from a woman. She was chewing her lower lip contemplatively as she herself clambered stiffly off the table and stood next to Trevor. They were actually fairly similar in height, and for a time they simply stood facing each other and staring into each other's eyes.

At last he broke the silence. "Would you like to take a shower?"

"That would be nice."

He indicated the tiny bathroom at the rear of the office. She gave it a glance, then looked back at him. Shyly she said, "Would you like to join me?"

Trevor found himself peering at Annette as she stood proudly naked in front of him. He knew next to nothing about this woman, but something about her had touched him deeply. A profound connection—all apart from the melding of their bodies—had somehow been established during the hour they had spent in each other's company.

"Yes," he said, "I'd like that very much."

They entered the shower together, turning it on quite hot. Each of them took the bar of soap and lathered it up thoroughly with their hands; then, as the water continued to cascade over them, they tenderly covered each other's body with the soap. Annette focused on Trevor's chest, stomach, and cock, while he paid homage to her breasts, abdomen, and bottom.

Then, spontaneously and without the need for words, they fused their bodies again. Approaching him, Annette took his member firmly in one hand and, standing on tiptoe, inserted it into her pussy. Then they wrapped their arms around each other. Trevor didn't do much thrusting; all they wanted was to be united one last time before they parted. They remained like that for many minutes, and Trevor sensed that she might have had a mini-climax, if her vagina's spasmodic squeezing of his cock were any sign.

At last he pulled out of her, and they emerged from the shower. Without a word but with frequent glances at each other, they toweled themselves dry and then got dressed.

The mundanities of settling the bill were taken care of, although by this time Trevor didn't even want to charge her for his services. Annette stood by his desk where his computer lay, her mouth slightly open, seemingly unwilling to leave the place where she had experienced such an overwhelming session.

Then Trevor heard the words he was yearning to hear.

"Can I come back next week?"

They agreed on a time that worked for both of them, and then she left his office and went home.