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My new massage practice had started with a bang. Literally! I ordered a mobile couch and all the paraphernalia needed, including some very sensual fragrant oil. And as a graphic designer, it only took a few minutes to throw together some simple business cards. I was up and running in a week.
Laura seemed pleased. Admiring my couch which I’d set up in my cramped living room, she bent over it and wiggled her bum in my direction.
“Any clients yet?” she grinned.
“As it happens, yes, just the one,” I retorted. “But I picked up a few contacts last week.”
In truth, Jenny had jotted down half a dozen names and numbers and slid them into my hand at the end of the party. All women. All married. “I’ll spread the word for you,” she cooed. “And if you want my advice: whatever you charge, double it. These ladies can afford it.”
“It wasn’t my intention to…” I started but she cut me off with a wave.
“I know talent when I see it and I know you’re going to give my friends a very satisfying service.” She leaned in to my ear. “And you can pop over and thank me when hubby’s away on business.” She pecked me on the cheek and winked as I left.
Laura was still wiggling her bottom over the couch.
“So I suppose they’ll be wanting some happy endings,” she murmured.
“It was your idea!” I exclaimed. “Don’t go all bunny boiler on me now!”
“I know! I know! I’m not complaining,” she said. “But I think I should be the one to Christen the couch, don’t you think?”
I laughed and pulled her up. “You’d better strip then, and lie back.”
I tried the best I could to give her a massage, but of course she was wriggling and writhing within minutes. After the second orgasm, she begged me to fuck her, but I insisted.
“This is supposed to be a proper massage so keep still and enjoy it.”
“Oh I’m definitely enjoying it!” She chirped as I rolled her on to her back. “I bet your new client must be in heaven!”
“She isn”t as sensitive and twitchy as you,” I laughed. Then I leaned in and whispered. “But yes, she seemed very satisfied.”
“Show me what you did to her,” she said lasciviously. I stared at her for a moment. She looked back with a wicked smile. It felt a little weird talking about another woman, but what the hell, I thought.
I stood at the end of the couch and parted her legs, gliding my hands along the length of her calves and thighs, up towards her pussy. My fingers brushed over the outer folds of her vulva and she shivered. I stroked them, gently squeezing her labia together. She was soaking wet from her earlier orgasms and fluid oozed out. I ran my thumb into the folds and it brushed against her clitoris. She arched her back and moaned loudly.
While my thumb and fingers were massaging her vulva, I brought my other hand up and rested it on her thighs. I gently rubbed her slit with two fingers to moisten them and slipped them into her opening. It tightened around them as she gasped and I could feel that she was close to yet another orgasm.
Laura was breathing hard and moaning as I rocked my fingers in and out of her vagina.
“Harder,” she panted. I increased the pace and pressure.
“More,” she cried. “Fuck me hard with your fingers!”
Always good at following instructions, I pummelled her pussy, pushing hard up into her cunt and rhythmically sliding, rotating and curling my fingers. The inside of her cunt was pulsing and squeezing as she writhed and moaned loudly. I kept pinching her labia and rubbing her clit hard with my thumb.
She grabbed my hands and güvenilir bahis pushed them hard against her groin, her pussy gripping my fingers tightly inside.
“Oh Jesus! Oh God! Oh yes!” She cried out. It seems her prayers must have been answered because the waters parted and a flood gushed out of her pussy, washing over my hands. Her legs were shaking wildly as she came several times. Or maybe it was one long orgasm, that aspect of the female anatomy is still a mystery to me. It was rather wonderful to watch her, flushed and glistening with sweat, writhing and bucking with our hands clamped around her pussy.
Eventually the orgasm subsided and she relaxed back on to the couch.
“That. Was. Fucking. Amazing.” She said after a few moments.
“Glad you enjoyed it,” I replied softly, wiping down the end of the couch with a towel. “You realise That’s seventy five quids worth of massage?” I grinned.
She grinned back. “Baby, you’re not charging enough!”
My new enterprise seemed to be going rather well. Within a couple of weeks I had several new clients, including Maya of course. I felt the occasional twinge of worry about going into the homes of married women to essentially get them off or fuck them, even though it was wrapped in the pretence of a “professional relaxation massage”. God forbid if any of the husbands turned up unexpectedly! But none of the ladies seemed in the slightest bit concerned, welcoming me into their bedrooms with open arms (and legs ha-ha!)
To keep on top (excuse the pun) I started keeping client notes, as any good masseur should.
Maya (husband: Andy). Loves firm pressure, hands and fingers. Awesome BJs.
Janet (husband: Ray). Quite shy, keep it gentle. Lots of breast play.
Susan (husband: Peter). Loves to be licked, then fucked doggy style.
And now I was getting calls too. Furtive conversations from curious ladies who’d heard “on the grapevine” that my massage technique was “first class.” The words “magic hands” were mentioned several times, so I adopted it as my brand: “Magic Hands Massage – for discerning ladies who like to be pampered.” The list was growing and I was raking in a few quid. Worries about extra design work soon disappeared.
Vanessa was one of my ‘party-list’ contacts from Jenny, months ago. After a couple of text messages, she asked if I could meet her at a gym. Seemed a bit odd but she said not to worry, there was a room all ready. ‘Just turn up. Brings hands.’ She texted with a little smiley emoji.
The guy on reception showed me up to the room which was small but serviceable. Massage couch set up, a chair and a small bale of towels in one corner.
“Just finished her power circuits,” he said nonchalantly. “Probably in the shower.”
She strode in about five minutes later, clad in jogging bottoms and a tank top, still towelling her wet hair. Wow, I thought. She was around 5″8, clearly fit, and I guessed around mid 40s. She looked like a woman who took care of herself.
“Jenny says you’re good,” she said conversationally and stripped out of her clothes, throwing them over the chair. It was literally just jogging bottoms and a tank top. Nothing more. I was still slightly gobsmacked at how attractive and uninhibited she seemed to be. She paused, completely naked in front of me, lightly trimmed below, nicely defined legs, arms and shoulders, and the hint of a six pack. Her shapely breasts and pert nipples pointed straight at me.
“Eyes up, soldier,” she laughed. I snapped out of my reverie.
“Sorry,” I mumbled. “I Haven’t been doing this long.”
“Don’t worry,” she grinned as she hopped on the couch. “To be honest with you, neither have I! More of a cardio session and long hot bath kind of girl.”
She paused. “Are you OK with me türkçe bahis naked? I mean, you can cover me up if you like? I’m easy either way.” Hell, no! I screamed. In my head.
“Er… whatever makes you comfortable,” I mumbled.
She looked at me and smiled again.
“I’ll just lay back and let you do your thing. Just a massage is fine.” You bet, I thought, preparing my oils whilst trying not to drool over her stunning body.
I massaged her in silence and could see that the “sexual magic” was pulsing through her. She breathed deeply and relaxed. After a while she exhaled with a sigh and smiled.
“I see what Jenny means,” she murmured. “This is really very sensual.”
“If there’s anything else you want…?” I started but wasn’t really sure how to continue.
She sighed. “Oh, I can assure you there is. But not here.”
To be honest she could have asked for pretty much anything. A good hard shag. Kiss my toes. A pint of milk from the corner store. I felt like a lovestruck teenager.
We finished in silence and she shucked on her clothes and thanked me.
“I’ll sort out something more private for next time,” she grinned as she waltzed out. I was slightly in awe as I washed my hands and headed out.
“Everything go OK?” said the guy behind the counter as I passed.
“Perfect,” I replied. “She’s, er, pretty amazing. Must have been coming here a long time to get that ripped.”
He grinned. “Vanessa? Of course. She owns the place!”
The next appointment was made by someone else. Her assistant at the gym maybe? I thought.
“Miss Martin asked if you could fit her in early,” said the lady on the line whose name I missed. “Is 7AM possible?”
I thought I must have taken down the wrong address when I pulled up. Flashy downtown office building, all glass and mirrors. Didn’t look like anything to do with gyms. I sent her a quick text.
“Just come up” she replied. “10th Floor.”
Well this should be interesting, I thought. As I dragged my mobile couch through the vast empty lobby and into the lift, I guessed she was some kind of corporate executive.
The lift opened into a plush open office. There was a reception desk near the entrance and I could see a glass fronted office behind it that looked out on to the skyline. Vanessa appeared from a side room.
I only fucking did it again! Stared dumbstruck at her, that is. Sharp, grey pencil skirt, crisp white blouse and silk scarf. Her hair was done up in some kind of fancy bun. She was perfectly manicured. Dazzling.
“You won’t need that,” she said, nodding to the massage couch I’d just dragged all the way up.
She grinned as she approached then stopped and gave me a twirl.
“You’re going to have to get used to this,” she purred. “Can’t have your jaw dragging along the floor when there are employees around.”
“I am so sorry,” I blurted out. “I just… You’re just…” I wasn’t handling this very well.
She laughed. “Don’t worry. Nobody else here at the moment. We have at least an hour before the troops arrive.”
She led me across the vast office. It was tastefully decorated.
“Nice place,” I said absentmindedly. “Who’s your boss?” She turned and grinned again, raising her eyebrows. The penny finally dropped.
“Oh, shit! Of course! You’re the boss!”
“Didn’t you notice the name in big blue letters on the outside of the building: Martin Healthcare?” She whispered. “I own the whole company.” I blushed and she laughed again.
She opened the door to a side room and ushered me in.
“Ta da!” She squealed with glee.
It was an immaculate, fully equipped massage therapy room. Beautifully decorated, low lighting, large couch and soft faux fur cover.
“Had it installed last week. Just for you and me,” she cooed, obviously güvenilir bahis siteleri pleased with herself.
She slipped out of her clothes as I prepared my oils. She was buzzing with enthusiasm as we chatted.
“This is completely secure and soundproof,” she said. “If you fancy, you know, getting naked too, I’d be fine with that. Unless that makes you uncomfortable?”
“Are you kidding?” I replied and started undressing. “Please excuse me for being inquisitive, but surely you could have just about any guy?”
She laughed as she lay back on the couch. “Yes, I’ve been round the block few times,” she said matter-of-factly. “Most men aren’t worth my time.”
Well, I’m way out of her league, I thought as I worked on her shoulders. Just the massage guy, I guess.
Being naked in a situation like this is incredibly liberating. Vanessa clearly had no inhibitions. She sighed and heaved and moaned as I worked across her body. Her hands and arms would periodically brush against my thighs and crotch. She guided my hands to her breasts and crotch.
“You don’t need to be shy,” she moaned. “Your touch is beautiful. I’ve heard what you can do, so don’t hesitate.”
I stroked her tits, tweaking the nipples gently, then ran my hands all the way from her shoulders down her torso, thighs and calves to her feet. She raised her arms back behind her head.
“Do that again,” she murmured, grinning.
I flipped her over several times, kissing and sucking her toes, kneading her buttocks and lightly scratching her skin all over her body with my nails. She shivered and squirmed and squealed like a schoolgirl.
“Oh my goodness, this is so lovely,” she moaned.
As I reached her vulva and started cupping her labia, she shuddered again. These magic hands do have a habit of moving things along nicely!
“I know we’ve only met twice,” she cooed. “But I would really enjoy it if you made love to me.” She paused. “Would that be possible?” She said meekly.
My brain did a few mental leaps and high fives. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING!
I pulled her up into a sitting position and kissed her full on the lips. Her tongue darted in and out of my mouth. My cock was so hard I thought I was about to explode, which would have put a bit of a downer on the session for sure. She must have sensed my heightened state because she twisted round and clamped her legs around me over the edge of the couch.
“We don’t have much time left, though,” she whispered as my cock slid into her snatch. “Just go for it.”
Forget the money, the business, the body – the girl was a fucking sexual goddess! Uninhibited, confident, passionate and, of course, smoking hot! If I’d had a handy diamond ring I would have dropped to my knees and proposed there and then.
As it was, I thrust into her and she thrust back, holding me tight and breathing hard into my ear. We groaned and moaned for a few seconds but I just couldn’t hold back.
“Fuck yes, I’m gonna cum,” I grunted.
“Yes please,” she whispered. “Let me feel you cum inside. Empty yourself into me.”
As I reached the point of no return she squealed and I felt her vagina tighten, sucking my cock even further inside. It squeezed and throbbed around my dick sending waves of orgasmic pleasure through my body. We shouted out together from the earth-shattering pleasure of simultaneous orgasm.
We collapsed onto the couch, still wrapped in each others arms, totally spent, panting and giggling like a couple of virgins who just discovered the joy of sex.
I managed to compose myself after a few minutes and clambered off the couch. Vanessa sat up and brushed her hair back into place. She sighed, looked across at me and grinned.
“Thank you so much,” she said, gratefully. “Same time next week?”
I was still riding the high, but realised our session was over. As we dressed silently I realised that I was, indeed, just the massage guy. ‘She’s a wonderful, fun, warm, passionate woman, but it was just a business transaction,’ I thought glumly.
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