2nd October 2016 - 7:25 | London UK, london |
A couple of years ago, I got in touch with a masseuse, a mature South African lady. We talked a bit on the phone before meeting, I was new to this and needed to be sure of who I was dealing with. I think the same was true for her. She (Hilary) said she did full body massage for £40. No extras were discussed or hinted at. But hearing her voice, I must admit, turned me on.
After a few weeks of mailing/text/calls, I went to her place for an early morning massage. I was pleased to see a well built, good looking woman who seemed to match the person I'd been speaking/writing to.
Of course, it crossed my mind whether to ask for a sensual massage, but we had a nice rapport and I didn't want to spoil things. We talked for a moment and she then told me to get undressed. I asked whether I should keep my underwear on, she replied, 'yes'.
The massage was nice, we talked about our lives. It was very much a professional massage with nice company to boot. As I was asked to turn over, thoughts of any eroticism had already left me. We'd gotten what we'd asked for, and that was fine.
Things continued in that vein for a few months, until one day, when I'd got there and we'd greeted each other, she started talking about her ex-husband, how horny he was, and how horny she was at the thought of him coming home to take her. I remarked that he was a luck man. We both laughed and I then noticed that her nipples were sticking straight out, her lips engorged.
The massage remained the same as before, pants on, nothing out of the norm. But our parting was different, though. I couldn't put my finger on how.
For the next few weeks I couldn't get her out of my head. I texted her to arrange our next session. I got the usual agreeable reply. I then decided to ask if it was ok if I was fully naked this time. Her reply was a long time coming, but when it did, it simply said, 'ok'. I feared the worst - that she wasn't really comfortable with it, but didn't want to lose a client. I figured I'd talk to her directly if I sensed there was a problem.
That night, my sense of anticipation was unbelievable. I was convinced that everyone on the train there could read my thoughts. I was greeted with a smile as usual and was left to get undressed. I laid down on her bed, naked, face down. I was already hard.
As the massage began, it was obvious that this was a different massage to the others. For one, she hardly spoke. Her strokes were a lot more deliberate and even the music (Santana) altered the mood. 25 minutes in, she asked me to turn over, her voice barely audible. She then proceeded to very deliberately massage everywhere except my cock. Then, just when I thought that would be it, her nails brushed over my pubic region, the lightest of touches. She gasped as she saw my engorgement and struggled to take her eyes off it.
Sadly, it didn't happen again that night, it seemed she was forcing herself to avoid it, but I was encouraged for next time.
Before our next session, I'd asked, rather boldly, if she minded that I was aroused last time. She said no, and that 'its even ok'. I then replied that I wished she would massage me there. There was no reply.
The next session, Hilary answered the door wearing only a long shirt. And this time made no effort to leave the room as I got undressed. I was completely comfortable with that (truth be told, I wanted her to watch). The massage itself lacked the same charge as before, but then, just as I started to give up on the idea, she wrapped her hands around my cock and smiled at me. What followed was a very slow, deliberate cock massage, never quite making me too hard, just enough to feel the weight and warmth. Of course I didn't come, but texted her afterwards that I wanted to. She said nothing.
The next massage couldnt come quickly enough, and as before, my wish was granted as she focused almost exclusively on my nether regions, massaging my cock in one hand, the balls with the other. It was the most intense orgasm I'd had in years.
This became the norm for a while, as did her economic dressing and showing off more of her body each time. Her cleavage,in particular, was a sight to behold. I felt the time was ripe to ask her if I could massage her (I could think of nothing else). For once, she replied with 'what do you mean?'. I replied that I wanted to massage her as much as she was comfortable with. After an eternity, she replied with 'ok, we discuss when you arrive'.
When I got there, she was quite conservatively dressed, only her arms were on show. The massage started as usual (me, face down, with hard on) and 30m in, I was asked to turn over. I then asked if she'd considered my request.
She again asked, 'what do you mean, massage?'
'I mean, I would massage you all over, like you do me'
'You mean, naked??'
A combination of lust and fear were etched into her face.
'Look, what do you want?'
'To massage you naked'
'You'll be naked too?'
Now the smile on her face was undeniable. Literally trembling, she then said:
'Don't tell me you actually want to have sex?'
'Well, yes', I blurted out.
'Oh, listen to him', she said, not quite believing what she was hearing. 'I'm too old for you'
'I dont care. I‘ve wanted you for ages'
She looked at me for a moment and said, 'I'll come back'.
She went to the bathroom. It felt like an eternity, but when she returned, she was only wearing a shirt which was fully open. She climbed onto the bed, facing me, her EE breasts just inches from my face. I sucked them hungrily as she gasped and moaned, her body spasms betraying how long she'd wanted this. I grabbed her ass and pulled her to me until she was astride me, clit rubbing against my rock hard cock. As my fingers probed her rosebud she inched herself over my throbbing cock....then prompty engulfed with her pussy.
She rode me while I sucked and fingered her, before long she had already cum with a whimper. So did i, not long after.
It had taken some time but finally, we both felt free.
Sadly, a few sessions later she told me she was emigrating. She did want to see me one last time , but I didn't think I could handle it. I've not heard from her since but sincerely hope she's doing well.
That was some time ago, but it was such an erotically charged year in my life that I felt compelled to write about it. I hope to find another regular masseuse one day but understand that what happened to me might well be an extraordinary one off. Time will tell.
Hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed recollecting.
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