The Magic of a Quality Massage – 02

For the first time she looked at me with a worried look on her face. “That’s not what I want either. What I want…is what we were doing. But I can’t do that and remain a legitimate, professional, massage therapist now can I? Unless…”

“Unless what?”

“Unless you didn’t pay me any more, anytime we do anything other than a straight, non-sexual massage. So, if you want or need a real massage, then you pay me, and that’s what you get, with me dressed like this. Anything more…well, then that’s separate and different. But no coin changes hands, agreed?”

“Agreed!” I told her, meaning it. At least she smiled at that.

“Ok then, so tell me. What kind of a massage would you like today?” She asked.

I lay back on the table, my cock slowly starting to inflate a little. “If you wouldn’t mind, I have an area I’d really like for you to focus on,” I told her.

“Oh? And where is that?” She asked as she reached down, lifting her tee shirt up and over her head.

“I’ve got this really hard, stiff place I think I’d like for you to work on a little,” I said grinning at her, a bit wickedly. Susan finished removing her athletic bra, her magnificent tits and nipples once more making an appearance. Though it didn’t end there either.

“I can see that,” she told me. “And I have just the massage to take care of that. A really special device I like to use for cases like this,” she stated removing her shorts and panties at the same time. She now stood there before me entirely naked, just a small thin strip of dark hair above her otherwise bare mound.

“And that would be?” I asked questioningly as though clueless. Susan reached over grasping my cock. Almost immediately a droplet of lubrication appeared, which she quickly gathered up with her fingers. I now watched as she actually applied it to herself, standing there next to me, spreading her legs, and then her pussy with her fingers. She was already wet, so that dollop of lube she’d taken from me wouldn’t have added all that much. So it wasn’t that so much, as just the thought…and the action as she now climbed up onto the table with me.

“Ok, close your eyes, and try to relax. I’m gonna be for a while,” she smiled.

**

There was no fucking way I was going to keep my eyes closed. The moment I felt that soft silken cunt of hers ease down over my rigid cock, I was all eyes and all hands at once. Almost immediately, I reached up to grasp her twin peaks, capturing her nipples between my fingers, already hard as I gently pulled on them.

“Oh fuck harder, pull on them harder!” She told me, which I did, as she simultaneously slammed down, impaling herself even more deeply on my shaft. She would then grind against me for a moment, before slowly, teasingly pulling herself up, her hand on my chest, pinning me and ensuring that I remained where I was. “Don’t fucking move!” She warned, fucking me as she wished, which I was only more than happy to accommodate.

Once more she groaned, urging me to again pinch and roll her nipples between my fingers as she slammed down on me, a slow, teasing, almost mind-numbing process that she repeated over, and over again. When at last the tempo of our coupling intensified and remained steady, I knew then that we both were headed off into orgasmic land, which we coincidentally arrived at together.

I felt Susan’s pussy literally clench itself around my cock, as though milking it. Which she did. I felt the juice of my own climax leap from somewhere deep inside my balls, escaping in what felt like torrents of cream as my cock exploded in spasmodic throbs that didn’t seem to want to decrease. And it was almost as though she could feel each and every one. Her pleasured groans of sweetness captured each one, until finally we both lay in a tangled heap upon the massage table, drained and satiated beyond anything I had ever experienced before.

**

I had just finished getting dressed, smiling as I stuffed my money back into my pocket, though feeling a little weird even as I did that. Things obviously had forever changed, and what that meant, where it would now take us, remained to be seen. But there was still considerably more to this particular story that I wasn’t even aware of yet.

Unlike times past, Susan invited me to sit at her kitchen table, where we shared a cup of coffee together. Another sign of a changed intimacy between us, not counting the obvious.

“The one thing we do need to change,” she began. Is your standard Saturday morning appointment. If you want to continue getting a real massage, then I’ll keep that slot open for you. If not, I need to make it available to someone else.”

“I’ll keep it,” I told her. “But what about…”

“For the others…just call me. I’ll keep a special appointment schedule just for that,” she winked and grinned at the same time. And though everything seemed to have been straightened out between us, there was something she’d mentioned earlier that I now felt I needed to ask her about.

“Susan? Do you mind if I ask you something? Something you sort of briefly mentioned earlier?”

She nodded her head as though she already knew what I was going to ask, which not too surprisingly, she did. “About what I said, bending a few rules, maybe even breaking some, is that it?” Now it was my turn to nod my head.

“What was it that you meant by that?” I found myself asking. I couldn’t help but wonder if she hadn’t actually crossed this particular line before. Not that I could blame her for that either. I am sure with the number of men she’d given massages too, there was bound to be some sort of intimate connection made with them too, same as she’d made with me.

“I have another customer, well actually, more like a friend now too,” she began. “And sort of like this, what started out as a bi-monthly massage, turned into more of an intimate sort of thing.”

“Like us?” I questioned.

“Well, yes and no. Sort of,” she said, though I was confused by what she was trying to explain to me. Though she appeared somewhat confused by it as well. I decided to sit and wait patiently as she gathered her thoughts, and then once having done so, she took a deep breath looking across the table at me.

“It’s sort of the same, but different,” she began. And in my opinion, her opening gambit wasn’t any clearer than the first time. “I have another really good friend, sort of like you…” I swallowed, already fearing what she was about to say. I wasn’t the only guy she was meeting like this. “She’s been coming to me for years too,” she continued, with me only then realizing she’d spoken the word, ‘she’.

“She?”

“Yeah, she!” Susan confirmed, now looking at me quizzically, until she realized what it was I must have been thinking, to which she again laughed. “No, I’m not currently fucking anyone else…unless you think that two women enjoying one another from time to time is considered fucking. In which case, then I guess we are. We sort of grind against one another whenever we’re together, and use various toys and such. So I guess you could call that fucking technically if you wanted to, but I’m not currently fucking any other men. So does that answer your question?”