Coming Home

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A massuese returns to his home town.
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Finally pulling up outside the parlor was a strange experience. How many years had it been since he had left? Six at least. Hands crossed over the steering wheel he sat watching the orange and red leaves dancing amongst the wind that blew down the sidewalk. So much had changed in those years, but not here, not this place. The darkening clouds rolling slowly across the sky framed the whole scene.

Fall had returned and for the first time in far too long so had he. Removing the key from the ignition he retrieved the old canvas duffel bag from the passenger's seat. Opening the door and getting out of the truck the wind tousled with his hair, still unused to having the length back in it he swept one hand back through it and slid a baseball cap on closing the door behind him.

Long ago he lost his acclimatization to this weather, this season. Pulling his forester's jacket closer around himself he shouldered the bag and fished the keys out of his pocket. Fat rain drops began to fall as his fingers adjusted the keys unconsciously seeking and finding the one of the door. Pausing at the door, the smell of the damping soil and concrete around him drifted to his brain. Earthy, cool and moist the air was smooth against and around his face and hands, droplets of water caught on his skin before dribbling off. He could have stood there slowly soaking in this place as the rain drenched it but he was back for a reason and he needed to get things prepared.

Turning the key and opening the door he slipped inside opting to not turn on the main lights. His memory guiding him flawlessly back to the desk where his fingers flicked on the lamp. Its warm soft glow still effective after all this time.

Removing his jacket and propping the duffel bag against the desk he removed his hat and ran his fingers through his hair one again. The cleaning crew he had come in the day before had done a great job of removing the passage of time from the place. Discarding the hat to the chair he proceeded across the room and turned on the heater. The faint smell of warming dust started to permeate the room. Comforting safe memories of solitude slipped in and out of his mind as he removed the bags contents and started to set everything up.

The laptop was a new edition but it went everywhere with him now. The clean sheets and robe were folded neatly next to it as it began its boot up procedure. The small clay aroma therapy jar spluttered into life, the essence of nutmeg and pumpkin sitting in a few drops inside its crucible.

Moving behind the dividing wall to the back of the room he snapped one sheet out and laid it over the table straightening it and then repeated the process with the second sheet. Hanging the robe in the changing room he commenced lighting the large column candles around the room.

The smell of the warming oil wove it's away around the parlor back to the table behind the dividing wall at the front. Inhaling slowly he closed his eyes, a single low baritone rumble of thunder sounded across the town accompanied by one fork of lightning striking out at the heavily wooded mountain side. All he saw was the dim flash through his eye lids as his fingers straightened the towel its long fibers soft to the touch.

The beep from the laptop brought him back to the moment as the reminder popped up. The soft glow of the screen coupled with that of the light cast long soft shadows up the wall as he walked over and closed the reminder. Flicking through the collection of CD's he had brought along he decided upon a disc of gentle cello and flute compositions. Slipping it into the CD player the parlor was lit by the headlights of a car pulling up outside. Glancing up he couldn't help but smile at the way the head lights picked out the thick drops of rain which were gaining in momentum and frequency.

The woman flinched at the second peel of thunder when she looked through the rain splattered windshield. The man was typing something on his laptop and had looked up. She turned off the lights and the engine and made the dash to the door of the parlor. He was already there holding it open for here beckoning her in and taking her heavy jacket with a smile. Gently inhaling the warm spicy scented air she let out a small inaudible sigh. Already she could feel the stresses starting to loosen a little.

As the man directed the woman to the changing room in the back rain started to beat a steady thrum against the outside world. Lightning flashing again with another booming echo of thunder outside. As she undressed she felt nervous, excited and a little scared. Soulful music began to play back in the room as she slipped out of her clothing and secured the robe about herself.

Reaching back she slid her hands under the hair that was trapped by the rope flipping it up and free. The motion causing the soft material of the robe to pull across her chest. Biting her lip at the sensation she calmed her mind from the assault of sound, music and texture on her senses. When she stepped from the changing area the floor felt cold against the bottom of her feet and she moved quickly to the table. Sitting and perching, legs dangling out from her robe she watched the man.

After he had shown the client to the changing room he had turned on the lights and reduced them to a low dim. Removing his sweater and straightening his t-shirt he decided on turning up the heat a little more. A small grin to himself as he thought about how accustomed he had been to a warmer life. Reaching into the bag one last time he pulled out a bottle of oil and a hand towel. Throwing the towel over his shoulder he rolled the bottle in his hands, the friction warming his palms, his palms warming the glass bottle, the bottle warming the oil. As he continued to move the bottle back and forth he was again drawn into watching the rain thrumming down outside, the chorus of drops and the splashes of impact hypnotizing.

The woman coughed politely. He man turned mumbling an apology and offering the excuse of how he had missed the rain. She smiled quietly back at him as he asked her some questions. His fingers finding and teasing the satin trim of the heavy terrycloth robe she described where the stress points were and what level of massage she would like. Nodding he turned his back and asked her to disrobe and climb under the sheets. Another flash of lightning illuminated the room from the other side of the dividing wall. Quickly the woman slid out of the robe exchanging its long fibers for the cool smoothness of the sheets. Laying down she slid between the sheets her face moving into the supporting cushion. Asking if she was comfortable and getting her confirmation he turned back around and approached the table.

She heard the stopper being removed from the glass bottle as she stared down at the floor. Her skin tensed in anticipation of the cold trickle of oil yet it never came. Instead the sheet was pulled back exposing her back down to her waist. The sound of the man rubbing his hands together blurred in with the smell of the air as she closed her eyes and released one slow breath. When he laid his hands against her skin they were warm, slick and heavy. At first he just moved his hands around spreading the oil across her back then he start at her neck. Thumbs in to the base of her neck he pushed gently yet firmly down and around the sides. The thumbs catching the edges of the tensed stressed muscles bunched up and teasing them loose. Slowly she felt warmth both from his touch and the heat from her own muscles releasing.

Feeling the woman start to relax totally he moved his fingers down to work on her back. Placing his palms flat on her skin their heels putting slight pressure next to her spine he slowly moved first one hand away applying more pressure out toward her side, then crossing the other hand over he repeated the motion. Each time pulling and sliding the skin and muscle away from her spine. Then reversing the motion he pulled the skin in, again crossing his hands one after the other. Clenching the inside of her lip she felt the pull of her breast against the smooth cotton of the sheets, her nipples slowly hardening to the sensation. He couldn't see so she enjoyed it while she could.

Placing the heel of one palm at the base of her back he pushed firmly up and along the spine twice then again working out and up her back. Long strong fingers curled over her shoulders and kneaded at the muscles. Again the fingers were pulling the skin back and again her breasts pulling against the sheet. Shuffling slightly she moved her feet apart a little.

The man came around to stand in front of her. She found herself looking at his hiking boots through half lidded eyes. He now was working on her arm pulling down and away from her shoulder, easing the oil against her skin. Down from the elbow to the wrist and pulling on each finger one after the next. When he repeated the process on the other arm she let out another deep relaxing breath. This man was a professional. She felt so good, warm, relaxed and relishing the sensations on her skin both from his touch and the sheets.

The man walk around the other side of the table and pulled the sheet back up to the woman's neck. Quietly he asked her to pull the sheet up from her feet to a level she was comfortable with. She stopped a couple of inches below her behind. He tucked the sheet around her outer things and with one deft movement tucked it between her legs. One slow quick motion brushing against her womanhood. Her body was in conflict deeply relaxed from the massage yet alive inside with electricity at the contact. Despite herself she felt the moisture slowly start to bead.

Applying more oil to his hands he rubbed them together creating more warmth. The rain now a heavy thrum on the roof and the window. Standing next to her he pushed down and along her legs to her ankles. Again the single slow movements just to apply the oil to her skin. Then again he squeezed firmly pulling her skin between the nook of his thumb and his hand. Pinching and releasing, rubbing and stretching her eased the tension from her legs to her ankle. While at her feet he repeated the process he applied to her arms. Pulling the skin down to the ankle, over the bridge of the foot and to the toes. Spreading and massaging the toes he worked the tired sensation from her feet. Her head now tilted to the side she had her eyes completely shut and was breathing deeply. Immersed in a world of sensations and relaxing more and more by the minute. Gently holding her ankle he eased her feet apart a little more. Hidden from his view and in reaction to his oblivious act her lips moved against each other. The droplets gathering and a small trickle tracing the edge of her lips running down to the sheet.

She gasped as his fingers slid down between her thighs; he apologized for shocking her and explained the final steps of the session. Laughing gently she gave her own apology for startling him and let him get back to work. Gingerly this time the man put his hand between her thighs close to but not touching the sheet. Spreading his fingers out slightly he pulled the skin on the inside of her thigh to the outside. Her lips moved more opening slightly and she clenched her jaw enjoying her private agony of excitement. If he knew what state she was in he certain hid it well. His hands moved again and again down her leg and then the other. The skin warmed and worked apart from where she found herself wanting it touched the most.

Stepping away the man wiped his hands on the towel over his shoulder removing the remains of the oil from them. Again he turned his back so she could gather the robe about herself. Pulling the sheet off of herself she indulged a moment and rubbed against the cushion tabled with her heated groin pulling the skin and leaning in heavily. Then she covered herself and said he could turn around. Asking if she was happy with the service she gave very heartfelt thanks for the experience. She moved to the changing room as he restoppered the oil and began to clean up.

Leaning against the door she eased one hand down between her legs and moved a finger along herself reveling in the sensation and the moisture. Then she began to dress.

He pulled the sheets up and the towels. It was then the scent caught his nose. Lifting the sheet to his face he breathed deeply of the smell eyes half closing. Licking his lips he balled up the sheets and smiled to himself.

Slipping her panties feeling them tight and slick against her she pulled on her jeans tugging the seam up against herself one last time before leaving the room. Smiling the woman paid the man and left eager to get home.

As she pulled away into the dark gloom of the dusk the man sat at his laptop. Lights off in the gloom watching the rain he remembered how it was before he left. Perhaps he could pick that life up again.

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6 Comments
rightbankrightbankalmost 10 years ago
should this be in another category?

If "he" is a masseuse, "he" is a woman.

unless we are talking about a cross dresser who goes both ways.

????

ambush184ambush184almost 13 years ago
Okay?!?

I too seem to have missed a point here. Pretty well written, but where is it going?

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 14 years ago
Huh?

I guess I missed the point. Not much else to add.

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 14 years ago
Where's the people?

I think you need some personality in this story. There was nothing to draw the reader into the story. You could be a good writer if you worked at it. Bad effort. I need a connection to the characters, I could not find one when they are called the man and the woman. Don't be so LAZY on any future stories, and use Literocia's free Editors.

DRS

coaster2coaster2almost 17 years ago
Nice little mystery.

Well written with a hanging ending. Will there be more?

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