You Get a Massage

You sigh, relaxing. 'Not much I can do about it,' you agree. 'Sorry about that.'

'Oh, stop apologising,' she tells you. She's looking around the room, then at your face, and then - as if unable to help it, needing to check it's still there - glancing at your crotch.

'Sorry,' you say reflexively. She can't help a slight chuckle at that.

'I, um...' She's flustered. The lights are dimmed in the intimate space, but she might be blushing. 'I'm not really sure what to work on now!' She bursts into a quick, embarrassed snatch of laughter, tinkling notes like wind chimes, then takes a breath. 'Sorry. I am a professional, honest.'

She's made no move to put the towel back over your body, you realise. There's no point now, you suppose, since its only job was to prevent exposure which, now it's happened, can't exactly be undone.

Several more heartbeats pass, during which she clasps her hands together repeatedly. There's a thoughtful expression on her face; you think she's biting the inside of her lip gently.

'You can't possibly be relaxed with... that going on,' she murmurs eventually.

'It's been a bit of a distraction,' you admit, feeling your cheeks flush bright and warm.

'I don't know that it'd do any good to keep working out the muscle stiffness - tenseness - um, soreness, if you're not going to be able to enjoy it,' she says.

'You're... probably right,' you say, and move to sit up, to get off the table. This is done, you can only assume: no point carrying on, so may as well call it a day.

Her fingertips, soft yet firm, touch your chest as you rise, pushing you gently back down. 'I don't mean call it quits there,' she says, eyebrows raised in what might be concern. 'You still need to unwind, obviously.'

You daren't make any assumptions about what she could possibly mean, but her gaze travels languidly down your body and fixates, undeniably, on your cock.

'We, erm... the company doesn't allow... happy endings, as a rule,' she tells you, tucking her hair behind one small, round ear, and saying 'happy endings' with a self-conscious half-smile, 'and don't go thinking that I would just do this for anyone, but... I just think you really need to relax, destress, and I don't think I'd be taking good enough care of you if I didn't help you with that.'

'That's... very nice,' you say, completely unable to think what you ought to do in this situation. 'You don't have to, though - I mean -'

Before you can say anything more, her index fingers have snaked underneath the elastic of your boxers and pulled, sliding them down off your hips. The eager erection beneath lunges free, springing desperately loose and out into the open: the sensitive, taut skin of your head, shaft, and balls tastes the open air and the liberty. It feels as if everything can breathe now it's in the open, a hot hardness sighing in deep relief.

'I know I said it happens a lot,' she says, gazing down, 'but I don't know that many people get this excited.' She extends the very tip of one finger, making the tiniest contact: she dips into the clear stickiness leaking from your tip, and although she doesn't even touch your skin, just rests so lightly on the trickle atop it, her finger comes away attached to your cock by a glistening thread.

'Should you be -' you begin to say, but she raises that slick-shining index finger to her lips and makes a slow shushing gesture.

'Like I told you,' she says, 'you don't have to do anything. Just let me take care of it.'

You categorically do not have the willpower to protest further.

'Relax,' she instructs you: you lie back, close your eyes, and give in to sensation.

You could swear you can feel, before she so much as brushes against your skin with hers, her bright and earnest gaze working over your dick, taking it in, squeezing it. Under her watchful eyes you strain, so hard it feels you could burst, and it's all you can do not to squirm in sublime, aching ecstasy. You hear her take a deep breath, clean and steady - do you detect a slight trembling as the air goes in, or is that you hearing things? - and then, soft and slow, her fingers wrap themselves around your shaft. There's still oil on her palms and fingers, and both of her hands grip your cock in a gentle squeeze working from base to tip: she slides with a light firmness up the length, beginning with index finger and thumb encircling you right where your dick joins your balls and floating up until all her fingers can wrap around you. Her hands move up with a deliberate slowness, a careful stroking that makes you gasp with each delicate squeeze up your sensitive skin. With the slickness of her oiled skin, she can grip your unbearably rigid erection tightly without causing too much friction as she moves; she slides freely and smoothly, and waves of shivering pleasure wash through your nerves and into every part of you. Your fingers and toes tingle while your cock throbs in her glorious hands.

She changes the motion: one of the hands that had been languidly making its way up your shaft takes a gentle hold of your balls, massaging lightly while the other works up and down, fingers flexing and releasing so that intermittent tight squeezes pump flashes of ecstasy through you.

You can't resist lifting your head to look down; you see her kneeling by the side of the table, gazing enthralled at your cock. Her hands move elegantly, almost lovingly over you, every motion another delectable spark of bliss. She glances up, spots you watching her, and smiles that beautiful smile as if unable to help it before taking her bottom lip in her teeth and letting it slide sweetly free, her eyes fixed on yours. Then those lips form a neat, small circle - you can see her tongue playing at her teeth - and her head lowers until her mouth, O-shaped, clasps wetly on the head of your penis.

You lean back, eyes closing again, one arm folding up behind your head. Her tongue dips into your leaking slit, like a hummingbird lapping up dew from within a flower. A low groan escapes you, a rumbling moon that vibrates through your whole body; her wet, soft lips open and close, gently engulfing your whole aching head before suckling harder at one small focused point of pleasure. You feel her take hold of the hand that's still lying by your side and lift it, placing your palm on top of her bobbing head. Your fingers tease through her soft hair as she opens wide, relaxes her tongue and jaw, and descends to sheathe every inch of your cock in her mouth. Her tongue laps at the base, where one hand still squeezes your balls; the back of her throat caresses your head in a tight, soaking embrace; your shaft revels in the warmth between her lips and cheeks. Your hand tightens of its own accord, grabbing a fistful of hair, and your hips automatically raise to meet her. Your cock is disappearing down her throat, but she doesn't gag: after a moment, she slides up and inhaled deeply through her nose with her lips still tightly sealed halfway up your length, then slowly bobs up and down on you.

The tight, hot wetness sliding over your intensely solid cock, which pulses as if with a strong heartbeat, is becoming more than you know how to bear. You can't conceive that any material in the world could be harder than your dick at that moment, and your stretched skin, thick veins, and engorged tissue is at the same time so sensitive that you can feel in keener detail than your sense of touch has ever been capable before and so overwhelmed with the flicking of her delicate tongue and the strong sucking of her mouth and the wet sliding of her lips that it feels your entire body might disappear into a single bright pool of warm joy, where space no longer matters and all the once-separate parts of you become a unified body feeling nothing but pleasure. Precum oozes into her throat, wet pouring into wet.

She withdraws, coming away with thick strands of clear liquid joining her mouth to your glistening cock, and gazes up at you with burning intense eyes. Your dick is practically spasming, twitching madly before her; a tight urge crawls aching from your balls up the length of you right to the tip, and a drop of white trickles out of you and mixes with the clear. She gives that lip-biting grin and stands up straight, wiping her mouth slowly with the back of her hand. Then she reaches down to the clasp of her loose tunic and with a quick smooth movement snaps it free. Her top falls open, revealing a smooth, toned stomach, soft curved waist, and beautiful round breasts with small pink nipples right in the centre. She slides the tunic back off her shoulders, letting it drop to the floor, then slides her thin trousers down her hips and steps easily out of them, leaving her clothes in a pile behind her and standing before you naked in the warm stillness of the room.

She steps towards you, arms by her sides with confident calmness. Every inch of her is soft, inviting, sleek: you can see sculpted muscles moving beneath the yielding skin of her thighs and shoulders. Her breasts are high and pert, her pussy hairless and neat with just a hint of bright pink emerging from the fold between her legs.

She takes your hand and pulls you upright, so that you're sitting with your legs dangling over the side of the massage table. Your gleaming, wet-shining cock sticks up rigidly, tight balls quietly pumping beneath. Your left hand she takes and places, gently but firmly, on her breast, and her hand clasped on yours squeezes so that your fingers sink into the softness of her; at the same time she moves your right hand, brushing it down the silken skin of her stomach until it comes to rest between her legs. She closes her eyes, hands resting gently atop yours - not pushing or forcing, just letting you know where she wants you.

Your fingers explore her, sliding along the insides of her thighs, feeling a slickness already beginning to moisten the skin there. You travel across the mound at the top of her legs, taking your time until your fingertips at last venture within the folds of her outer lips: you slip into the snug pocket within, already hot and wet, and find the little hard nub. Your finger swirls in small, slow circles on her clit, every few moments withdrawing to wet itself in the juices dripping from the haven underneath before returning to touch anew with fresh moistness. Her body stiffens, then relaxes as she sighs deeply with a throaty rumble of satisfaction; your hand squeezing firmly at her ripe breast can feel the nipple beneath the centre of your palm stiffening, rising up to greet you - you remove the hand from her, move up to her face, and gently probe at her lips with your fingertips. She parts her lips just enough to let you softly coat your index finger and thumb in the mixture of wetnesses that streamed from her mouth and from your cock, the same clear fluid that still glistens on your erection, and then you take those digits and tweak at her hard nipple, sliding smoothly and slickly over it with your soft, attentive fingertips.

She flexes the hand that's still holding yours between her legs, pulling at you with a firm need. She presses you down, grinding her hips so that her clit rubs first against your exploring fingers then against the heel of your hand, and as your fingers come down to her entrance she squeezes, telling you what she wants - and at the same time you can feel her opening up, a blossoming of warmth over your hand calling you hungrily in. Only too willing to comply, your fingers plunge eagerly inside her. She keeps rolling her hips, seeking contact and friction as her clit strokes your hand, and your fingers work at the hot, soaking insides of her, feeling every bump and dip that textures her clenching walls.

You gaze at her face: her eyes are closed, bottom lip firmly bitten, hair fallen out of its ponytail and now cascading down her neck and shoulders. Her cheeks grow more flushed as she keeps moving on you and you keep moving in her: your left hand pulls and tugs with just enough force at her nipple while your right unceasingly plays at the warmth within her, so saturated with fluids that you can hear every movement as a wet sucking sound. Your cock is swelling and pulsating in time with the motions and noises of her body, no less rock-rigid now than it had been in her sweet mouth. Her pussy tightens, clenching as if grabbing desperately at your fingers, and her mouth opens into a gasp, brows furrowing intensely - and then she stops herself, pausing mid-rocking against you, and opens her eyes.

She stares straight into your eyes, breathing heavily, and then without a word or an indication of her intention she takes her hands off yours and pushes you hard, knocking you back down into a lying position. Smoothly, with a graceful half-hop, she swings herself up onto the table and straddles you, kneeling atop you and gazing down. One hand goes to her hair, running through it with an anxious sensuousness, and the other grasps firmly around your twitching shaft: panting, you lift your head and watch as she pulls your cock upright and raises her hips over it. She lowers herself slowly, the impatiently parted lips of her pussy sliding over your head: she holds there for a moment, breathing deeply as the tip of your cock rejoices in the embrace and the promise just within, and then she sinks down and engulfs you down your entire length, plunging you deep into her.

The two of you gasp in unison, meeting each other's eyes as your bodies join and your chests heave with enraptured, heavy breaths. Her breasts rise and fall, just a little bounce wobbling them as she inhales and exhales; below her flat, trembling belly, her pussy surges and squeezes at the unbearably hard cock filling it snugly.

For a minute or more, you simply lie there, fully buried inside her. The slow rise and fall of both of your bodies as you breathe, and the endless throbbing and stiffening of you against her and her against you, is enough to content you for ever, as far as you're concerned. Then, slowly, she leans forward and begins to gyrate her hips, languidly sliding you with hungry wet slurps in and out of her - never all the way out, but up to where your shaft turns into your swollen pink head and then back down until you're entirely immersed and her labia touch the skin by the base of your dick. Her breast comes inches from your face, hanging as she leans but still keeping the same perky round shape, and you lift your head to take her nipple in your mouth. While she rocks on you, embracing your cock in pulses of heat and tight moistness, you flick your tongue over the tip of her nipple so that it stiffens and seeks you, then gently hold it between your teeth and pull so that it stretches just a little before releasing it from your sharp incisors, letting it bounce back into place, and wrapping your lips and tongue around it.

She lets loose a full-bodied moan, thrusting down onto you with a pussy hungry to take you deeper with each motion: she stops her up-and-down riding and presses down as hard as she can, her insides swallowing you up as far as she can take you. Your desperately sensitive, inflated head squeezes between her clenching walls, bumping against a narrow contraction deep inside her. No longer thinking about anything but her, you suddenly sit up and grab her back, fingers digging into her strong flesh; groaning with ecstasy, she holds on to your shoulders. Her nails cut into your skin, and you couldn't care less. She grinds down onto you and you push up into her, and sharp pulses of tight, hot, electric sensation jolt through your whole body.

You lean forwards and shift your weight, holding tightly onto her and pulling her down: without ever separating from her, you haul her over onto her back and roll on top of her, penetrating deep between her raised legs. You grab her calf and pull it towards you, kissing her leg and ankle as her breasts bounce with each thrust of your body into hers; her face is contorted in a vision of almost painful joy, completely overwhelmed and overtaken by the feelings coursing through her. Long, hard thrusts of your hips drive your bodies together, spearing your dick - so engorged and powerful that you can barely believe it's yours - as far inside her as you can squeeze it, and every moment your tight, swollen skin slides against hers is another wave of dizzying energy that rides every muscle in you until you feel a divine weightlessness.

A squeal tears itself from her lips; her pussy spasms around you, squeezing so hard you think you might burst, quaking and contracting with thick, wet, powerful pulsations. You bury yourself in her, making small and fast movements with your hips so that your painfully bulging cock drills right into the deepest parts of her. Her hands grip your arms with a craving strength, then she wraps her arms around your body and holds tight to you, pressing her soft breasts against your chest; you can feel the rigid nipples rubbing against you. Face buried in your shoulder, she lets out a muffled roar of pleasure and wonder: her insides, pouring wet and steaming hot, massage you with squeezes so strong it feels as if your cock is being slammed into from all angles at once: the bumps and surfaces of her slide over you and grab at you, and she holds you painfully tight.

It's been all you can do, almost beyond your power, to control through all of this the surging flood building with an all-encompassing strain inside you, and the clenching of her pussy, the gobbling of her slick heat on your cock, is stoking the flame until it can be restrained no longer: your balls tighten with an unbearable, dam-bursting strain.

Her body trembles as her quakes and throes fade to contentment, and her expression, though it remains almost dizzy with joy, focuses as she notices you beginning to throb powerfully inside her. She slides back, releasing your cock, and from her reclined position sits up on the table and swinging her legs back behind her, her head and hand going to your shaft as it shines and drips with her own fluids. As she makes her quick approach, you can contain it no longer: the overwhelming squeeze deep inside you releases, powerful waves of pure lightness streaming from your centre to every extremity until you can barely breathe, and the warm electricity jolts free from your balls and shocks up your yearning, aching shaft. She almost reaches you in time: the first thick rope of cum forces itself from your pulsing cock, and lands with a wet slap across her face and all the way down in one glistening line down her chin and over her breasts.

She makes it for the second burst, gripping the base of your shaft tightly in one hand and engulfing your head in her mouth to catch your flying sperm. Groaning lowly, you wrap your hands through her hair as you come, pumping blast after blast of hot semen down her awaiting throat. Your whole body wracks with tremors while the safe, sweet, warm, comfortable space inside her mouth receives you, her tongue lapping at your tip to welcome every drop of cum you have to give her.

When the throbbing ceases, she slides her lips free, closing them in a kiss-like motion on the very tip of your head as she withdraws from you. She looks up, breathing heavily, a gleaming painted line of your cum still adorning her face and chest. You gaze back, slowly returning to reality and to the little, cosy massage room you entered fully-dressed and innocent not so long ago.

Neither of you speaks for a minute or more. Eventually she sits up, stretching her back and shoulders tall and giving you a phenomenal view of the way the muscles of her torso tense and her breasts lift as she does. She sighs, licks her lips with her delicate pink tongue, and gives you a wide, tooth-exposing smile.

'Relaxed now?' she asks, giving you a stare from under heavy-lidded eyes.