Bad Habits Pt. 02: Temptation

Author's note: I didn't plan to write a part 2, but something inspired me. This is once again dedicated to C, who seems to provide me with so much inspiration.

*****

I have to confess, I was more than a little disappointed after the disappearance of Camilla. While she wasn't the only motivator in my quest to get fit, that little throwaway comment she made set the whole process in motion. Over the passing months I logged into the FBFM forum regularly - partly because I wanted to see if she would reappear. Also, I had realised how much I enjoyed the whole experience, and I wanted to take it up again. Dating in my 30s had proved to be much more daunting than I had expected, and so I was still a single man. That meant the occasional sexual release was a welcome relief from time to time.

Although Camilla was gone, I hadn't stopped getting massages. I still needed them, as I was training regularly, and they were beneficial for my recovery. I would usually rotate every three weeks or so with a 'legit' massage, as the seasoned professionals liked to call it, and something more sensual.

Since I had started getting sensual massages, the scene had taken off in London in a big way, and new providers were appearing almost every week. Reviews were being posted regularly, espousing the merits of some, and lamenting the failings of overs. It was fascinating reading; the forum was smartly regulated, and contributions were useful and informative. I bookmarked threads about promising providers, and built a hotlist of sorts that I could use for reference when I felt the need.

I had some memorable experiences along the way. One of them was Dina, a striking, raven-haired Russian who stood at nearly 6 feet tall. I wasn't too bad at 5'10", but when she opened the door in heels, my jaw dropped. She had soft features - a small nose, gentle eyes, and a beautiful smile- but her body was unreal. Dina sported an hour glass figure, and had an absolutely spectacular rounded ass that had me drooling every time she showed it to me. She also spoke good English, and was very easy to talk to; quite a few of the masseuses I had seen didn't have great language skills, nor were they very amiable. After my time with Camilla, I preferred to have a bit of conversation to be able to form a connection with the masseuse. If that didn't happen, it felt a lot more like a business transaction, which took away a lot of the enjoyment.

Dina worked independently from her own apartment, and had kitted out of her bedrooms as a massage room, complete with a proper massage table, the requisite low lighting, and mirrors facing the table, so one could watch while she was at work. Her apartment was around a 15-minute drive from mine, so I started making regular visits. Her massage skills were quite good, but her sensual skills were even better. She also performed one of the most intense body to body massages I have ever experienced. Dina always started with a regular massage to relax me, while we would have a catch about events since we had last met. Then she would pause, and I would go quiet in anticipation. Mounting the massage table, she would oil her body, and then start gliding it over mine with a delicacy that belied her statuesque frame. Undulating over my body, I could feel the exact curves of her shape from her 34C breasts, to her abdomen, and down to her legs. After a few minutes of sweeping her body over mine, then would then mount my back while I was still facing down, part my legs gently, and massage my buttocks, balls, and cock - adding extra oil to increase the sensation. I would often look up then, and see her in the mirror, fully concentrating on her task.

Then I would be told to turn over, and she would then repeat the body to body. While rubbing her body over mine, she would pay extra attention to my cock, sliding it through her cleavage, under her breasts, sometimes using a hand to give it a gentle tug, or to position it where she wanted it. By this time, I would have a raging erection, often holding my breath as she manipulated herself. When her head moved close to it, she would breathe on it, and take it in her hand, stroking it gently while admiring it at close range. The tease was almost unbearable. The next part is where things would start to differ as I increased my visits. The first couple of times I saw her, she would then dismount, and start stroking my cock, positioning herself close to my hands so that I could touch her body, but always keeping her legs closed. After a couple of sessions, she would do the same, but raise one leg onto the table so that I could start to explore her yoni. I would massage it softy, admiring how delicate and perfectly shaped her labia and clitoris were. Sometimes I would slip a finger inside - I found that she was always wet, which encouraged me even more, as her arousal was a signal that it wasn't just myself who was getting sexual pleasure out of it. Occasionally she would moan quietly, or let out a gasp, which meant I was doing things right.

Once we became more familiar with each other, she ramped it up; things would progress as usual, but for the finish she would stand right next to my hip, and then take my manhood in-between that magnificent bust. Fully oiled up, she would slide her breasts up and down, giving me, as what we like to say in Britain, a "tit-wank". The feeling was incredible, and it wouldn't be long before I was spurting cum all over her bosom. That became a standard finish for our times together.

This continued for another few sessions, and then Dina took things even further. By this time, we were almost friends; once we bumped into each other in a nearby shopping centre, and decided to go for coffee. Seeing her in the normal world was in interesting experience - as I walked with her, I noticed heads turning, and lots of admiring glances, and also a few jealous ones directed towards myself. For her part, Dina was obviously used to it, as she ignored all of them and chatted away, filling me in on her shopping experiences. We had a pleasant afternoon talking about life, and even love, and when we separated, I booked my next visit with her. The whole experience did seem a bit odd when I thought about it afterwards, but then again, the massage scene was anything but normal, so I just went with the flow.

That next session moved into a direction that I had never expected. After the body to body, Dina was once again positioned on my lower half, stroking my manhood, and teasing me as usual. My head was raised slightly as I enjoyed the view, and then I was taken aback as she locked eyes with me, and then slowly lowered her mouth onto my cock.

I was shocked at first, but by then I was so aroused that I just didn't care. I let out a deep sigh of satisfaction as she took the head of my penis in her mouth, and then continued to slide it further in, her lips engulfing my erection slowly and as sensually as she could, matching the tone set by her massage. The feeling was incredibly erotic, and as my cock disappeared into her mouth, I knew it was already going to be the best oral sex I would ever experience. I had received plenty of oral sex in my lifetime, but the sexuality of the experience, coupled with Dina's expert skills, were mind blowing. She could take the full length of my cock into her mouth with ease, bobbing up and down, varying the pace to keep me on the edge. She then disengaged, causing a sigh of disappointment from myself, but then moved around and positioned her pussy right on top of my mouth. Despite her statuesque form, her vagina was one of the most perfectly formed I had seen; delicate lips, and the hood of her labia neatly covering her clit. I took up the invitation with gusto, my hands gripping her buttocks as I put my long unused oral skills to work. I explored her yoni with my tongue, alternating between flicking her clit, and long strokes up and down, occasionally penetrating the folds and getting a taste of her juices. Sometimes I explore with a finger or two, sliding them in and out while paying plenty of attention to her clitoris with my mouth. Dina would resume her oral machinations, punctuating it with moans of approval. I was determined to bring her to orgasm, and focused all my efforts on her, making sure that I didn't cum first. After all the times I had seen her, my overwhelming desire was to return the many times she had made me cum. Also, I was half thinking that this might be a one off occasion, and was determined to make the most of it.

By this time I had no idea how long had passed, and I was eventually rewarded as she shuddered, let out a loud gasp, and had the orgasm I was desperate to bring her to, her juices leaking out onto my fingers and into my waiting mouth. Even in her pleasure, she had the wherewithal to keep stroking me, and moments later I had my own climax, my cum pouring over her hand as I let out my own sounds.

Thankfully that wasn't a one off with Dina, and our meetings continued in the same vein. I would see her every six weeks, and every time was a pleasurable experience, satisfying my own needs, and hopefully hers too. I was under no illusions though - she was obviously very good at what she did, and according to the forum, she had plenty of devoted regular customers. No one else talked about the kinds of experiences I was having with her though, so I took as one of those unspoken rules to not divulge too much, for fear of ruining the golden goose.

--

Time passed, and springtime came round once again. One day, my editor called me into his office and told me that he would be retiring within the next year. I was a bit confused as to why he would tell me first, until he then asked if I would be interested in his position once he left. The obvious answer fell out of my mouth straight away, and so I was handed extra responsibilities as a result.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on how you look at it, that summer saw one of the busiest in sporting history. Apart from the usual Tennis Grand Slams, International Cricket matches, and F1 races, there was also the Olympics, and two major international football tournaments. In the next six months I travelled to 10 different countries, and over 20 cities, contributing generously to my Air Miles account, and filling up my passport with stamps and visas. Every time I made it back to the office, I had a mountain of paperwork to deal with. Within a day or two I'd be jetting off again, and my fatigue built up, slowly but surely. I couldn't complain though - I was getting plenty of experience, and convincing my editor that I was the right person for the job.

--

After the summer was over, I asked for a week off. My house was a mess, since I was never there, and had to spend a bit of time just dealing with the more mundane routines that came with living alone. I was also exhausted, and needed a bit of time just to refresh my body and mind.

The first day was spent doing all my housework, and paying all my bills. I wanted to get everything out of the way early, so that I could spend the rest of the week relaxing, and engaging in some salacious activities. I already had the plan for my second day - sleep in, hit the gym, and then go for a massage.

That evening, I logged back into the FBFM forum for the first time in a while. Usually I would have gone to see Dina, but she was on holiday for two weeks, so I had to find someone else to satisfy my urges. I spent of a bit of time going through the new threads - in my time away, the scene had grown yet again, and there were plenty of new reviews, both good and bad. I browsed through various threads, to see if there was anything worthwhile, before one caught my eye. It seemed a new establishment called 'Naima' had opened up recently, and those who had been were singing its praises. I read through all the reviews, and then I saw it. One poster had written that Camilla from Soft Body was now working there. So I clicked through the business link to look at the gallery for the masseuses, and sure enough, there she was. I dialled their number immediately and booked an appointment for the next evening.

The following day was one of apprehension. I went through my planned routine, but the thought of seeing Camilla again was always at the back of my mind. It had been close to two years since I had last seen her; would she even remember me? I could still recall the touch of her hands, the softness of her skin, the curves of her body, and the red tinged smile that stood out so clearly the first time I saw her. Moreover, I also missed the intimacy from those visits, and was hoping that it wouldn't be lost. All those thoughts clouded my mind, and when I finally made it to the gym, I resolved to put them to the back of my mind so that I could focus on my workout.

After experiencing hotel gyms for the past few months, it was good to be back in my gym again - I was there so frequently when I was rehabbing that I had actually made a few friends there, something I hadn't thought was possible. My previous experiences at other gyms was trying to work out while surrounded by meat heads who seemed to spend more time bragging than actually lifting, but this place was different. There seemed to be a lot more ordinary people there, and I'd shared workouts with many of them. I never hit on any women though - I just don't understand how guys can do it. Drenched in sweat and stinking to high heaven is never a good position to be picking up women. Also, no matter how good you look, there's always someone who looks better.

Anyway, I digress. I caught up with a couple of friends there, and pounded out a heavy workout, mixing up weights, and some high intensity circuits. I wanted to get as much testosterone built up as I could, so that I would be ready for some release later. Also, I wanted my body to look as good as possible. When I came out of the shower afterwards, I checked myself out in the mirror as a vanity exercise. Granted, I didn't have the body of an Adonis, but it wasn't bad now. A bit of tone, greater muscle mass, and a much smaller belly. Overall, I'd dropped about 80lbs in the last 18 months, and I felt much better for it.

All fired up and with somewhere to go, I jumped into my car and drove over to the massage place. The half hour drive through the night streets of London served to calm my mind somewhat, and by the time I pulled up at the nondescript block of flats where they were based, I was feeling relaxed and ready for the whole experience. The door was opened by the customary grumpy old woman, albeit a different one from my days of frequenting Soft Body. I was led to the massage room, and told to wait.

This room was different from the one at Soft Body. It was bigger - the flat was in a classic English six storey house which had been converted into a block of apartments. The rooms in these houses were absolutely massive, since rich people in the Victorian era needed excessive amounts of space to enjoy their decadence. The walls were painted in the standard white, and the large sash window was covered with a black curtain. Instead of a massage table, there was a thin mattress laid out on the floor, the same as the ones that are used for Thai massages. As always, the lighting was dim, and the requisite candles were scattered around the room, mostly on the chest of drawers where the tools of the massage trade were kept, and on shelves of some small empty bookcases and tables. Ambient music played gently from a small portable stereo in the corner of the room. A large mirror was propped up against the wall in parallel with the mattress. All in all, a perfect setup.

--

Show me, slowly, now that I'm focused

Falling free, now you see

Feel the walls closing

--

The door clicked, and then she walked in. My heart jumped a little bit as I saw Camilla once again. This time she was dressed in a what looked like a black, two piece, nurse's uniform. She looked different as well - physically she was more tanned, obviously from her travels, but also her face was more mature. To me, she looked more beautiful than I remembered.

She started to speak, but then stopped as she looked at me for a long moment. Then her face broke into a smile, and she exclaimed, "Oh my god! It's you!", dropping her professional demeanour, and coming closer to give me a big hug. Relief was my first over-riding emotion. When we disengaged, she looked up and down at me, and said, "You look so different!"

I smiled, almost speechless, and feeling a little bit embarrassed.

"I'm glad you still remember me," I stuttered out, almost speechless at her enthusiastic greeting. She then made a mock angry face, and replied, in a reprimanding tone, "Of course I remember. But I didn't recognise you at first. You look so good!"

I couldn't stop myself from blushing at the compliment.

"Well, shall we get started?" she then said, motioning towards the mattress on the floor. I didn't need another invitation, and started to disrobe. As I stripped off, she watched me, smiling in approval at my remodelled physique. With words of surprise she pointed out the 'V' shape I had managed to get on my abdomen, and once I was fully naked, she took my hand and led me to the mattress.

Once I was laid down, she poured on the oil, and started with the massage. I managed to get over my initial reticence, and we settled into a conversation as she told me where she had been for the past two years. As I had guessed, she had spent a fair amount of time travelling across Asia, staying for a month or two in different countries, learning and experiencing the different cultures that she had come across. We discussed different cities, sharing our stories and observations. I noticed that her massage technique had changed, and Camilla told me she had spent the bulk of her time in Thailand, learning massage there.

The conversation soon shifted to myself, and how I had managed to lose so much weight. To be honest, in my head I was ecstatic - that throwaway comment she had made the last time I saw her had been the trigger for it all. When I look back on it, that was where the journey began. I had been an absolute mess, and now I was finally feeling like life wasn't so bad anymore. I had more self-confidence, my work was much better, and my health was the best it had ever been. Obviously I wasn't going to pour all that out to her, so instead I just skirted around the topic of how I got started, and instead talked about the journey. In a way, it was like the culmination of my grand project to rebuild myself; when Camilla had left I had felt a bit of regret that I couldn't show her what I had managed to do. Now that I was seeing her again, the promise I had made to myself to not see her again until I had lost weight was finally fulfilled.

--

Don't reach, no need

Keep this unspoken

--

I stopped speaking when she stood up and started to take off her clothes. I was still lying on my front, but I couldn't resist propping up on my elbows to watch her. Her body had changed slightly too - she was still slim, but had filled out a bit and was curvier than I remembered. Not that I was complaining; to me she was still the sexiest woman I had ever met. Sex appeal isn't just about having a pretty face or a good body, it's also comes from having an emotional connection to that person, and with Camilla, that connection was the thread that kept pulling me back to her. Even though I had experienced some amazing sessions with Dina, that mental connection wasn't quite there. With Camilla, I had always felt our personalities were more compatible, and that had made our time together feel more fulfilling than just having an erotic massage. In the sex trade it's called the 'girlfriend experience', and while I didn't really like that term, it was probably the best way to describe what I was getting out of it.