Massage

//DISCLAIMER: This story (including its characters) is 100% fictional.

I stood outside the door nervously. Rain pittered on my umbrella in a cyclic rhythm, as if trying to calm my nerves. On the road behind me, lines of cars crawled slowly through red lights, honking and squealing their tires every so often. The door in front of me was a small, black wooden door embedded into brick wall and sandwiched between two stores in the middle of downtown. Looking up, I saw a small balcony with iron railings and a glimmer of lights in the apartment. It looked modern, nice. I sighed.

About two weeks ago, I had mentioned to a colleague of mine that I was experiencing tightness in my neck and shoulders, and general soreness all over my body. I had recently started regularly training for long-distance running, with the hopes of competing in a marathon the following year, and while I enjoyed the high I got while I was jogging through beautiful parts of the woods and around lakes, it often left me spent and unbelievably stiff the next day.

"I know just the thing for you," my colleague, Kim, had said when I explained my situation to her. She wrote down a name and number of a piece of paper she pulled out of the recycling by her desk and slid it over to me. "Just call him. He's a masseuse, and his hands do absolute wonders."

I had never had a professional massage before, always being more on the ticklish side of things. In fact, I rarely accepted massages from anyone. I had had past relationships with partners who would always offer, and I would let them maybe once or twice, but mostly I declined because I simply felt strange about having someone else touch my body in such an intimate way. This was odd, considering I had no problem with sex or cuddling or kissing, but massages posed a certain threat it seemed to my mind more than anything else.

However, with my sheer determination to run a marathon, I knew I couldn't slack off in my training and my body was paying the price having not done much serious exercise for the majority of its life. I came to the decision that I had to do something if I wanted to keep running as frequently as I did, so I phoned the number one day when I got back from work.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Ben? My name is Olivia, and I just got your number from a friend at work."

"Oh, Olivia, hey! Yeah, Kim's told me about you. What can I do for you?"

I briefly wondered what Kim had discussed about me with this Ben, and for a minute, I felt slightly uncomfortable. "Yeah, well, she just mentioned that you were a masseuse and I recently started running which seems to have made my muscles tense up, so I was just wondering your rates?" I cringed at how awkward I always sounded on the phone.

"Of course. I charge $100 an hour for a full-body massage, but because you're Kim's friend I can get you in for $50."

Any unease I had previously felt about Kim discussing me with this guy vanished, and was immediately replaced with gratitude. "Really? That'd be amazing."

Ben laughed, and I couldn't help but note how sexy it sounded. "Yeah, no problem. What's your availability like?"

"I'm booked up for this week, and most of next. Maybe the Friday after that?"

"The 21st?"

"Yeah, the 21st would work for me."

"Consider yourself booked."

I took a deep breath. "Is there anything I should know about.. um.. massages, I guess, in general? I've just never had a professional massage before."

"No worries. I'll give you the basic run-down. I work out of a makeshift studio in my apartment, which is downtown. All the oils and lotions I use are natural, organic, and most of them are vegan. I worked at a massage clinic for around two years before deciding to switch to more freelance work, since I wanted more freedom with my schedule to pursue other interests. Hmm, oh, when you show up at the door, just ring the doorbell and I'll come right down. Maybe you already know this, but sometimes newcomers don't realize that full-body massages are often done nude. If you feel uncomfortable, you can always keep your clothes on, however, I don't recommend this as you won't get nearly as much out of the massage. You can also request to be covered with a towel, if that helps."

I swallowed. I knew that I would probably have to be naked for the massage, and this blunt confirmation of that fact triggered slight anxiety. "Right," I said. "Cool. Cool. Alright, well, I'll see you on Friday then."

"Alright, Olivia. Well, it was nice talking to you. Let me know if you have any more questions."

"Thanks, I will. Bye." I ended the call.

And now, standing outside of Ben's apartment in the drizzling rain, a shiver ran through me as I realized I would have to strip naked in front of a man I had only ever talked to once. Fear coursed through my veins, but I also detected something else, faint but there. As scary as it was, I was also the tiniest bit excited to try something so out of my comfort zone.

I rang the doorbell, and a few seconds later, Ben opened the door. He was 5'8 or so, with curly dark brown hair and warm brown eyes, with light freckles splashed across his nose. Athletically built, but still slim and not bulky.

"Hi, welcome," he said, motioning for me to come inside and follow him up the stairs. "It's raining pretty hard out there, hey?"

"Eh, it's not too bad," I replied. "I feel like if you live in this city, you just have to get used to it."

He smiled as he turned the key in the door to his apartment. "Fair enough." He opened the door and I peered in from behind him.

It was a small enough place, but very open. He had set up a bamboo divider in the middle of the room, sectioning off an area where he placed the massage table and a tray table with various oils and lotions. The apartment itself was filled with light, even on such an overcast day, as there were three nearly floor to ceiling windows overlooking the street below. The bamboo divider sat between the windows and the massage table, blocking any view from the street.

I walked in behind him, staring in awe in every direction. "Wow, this place is amazing."

"Thanks, I think so too. I can't believe I found it, and the price I'm paying for it isn't too bad either." He pointed to a door on my right. "The bathroom is just there, and there's a towel you can wrap around yourself. Take as long as you'd like; there's no rush." He smiled at me, and I swear for a moment I felt my knees weaken.

He walked away from me toward a small stereo on a chair to the left of the set-up. I left him to put on some music and stepped into the bathroom.

The bathroom, like the rest of the apartment, was white and simple, with gorgeous quartz countertops and a modern glass shower. A ceramic humidifier on a cupboard spewed puffs of fog into the air along with the sweet aroma of lavender. Looking into the mirror, I took a deep breath. 'Everything is going to be okay,' I thought to myself. 'It's just a massage.' I began to strip out of my clothes, and, not knowing where to put them, I left them folded neatly beside the sink.

I decided by body wasn't too bad after all. I had never been on very good terms with it, and usually prefer to cover it up and keep my flaws hidden, but after inspecting myself in the mirror, I realized it could be much worse. My c-cup breasts were full and spherical, with equally full nipples poking straight out. My waist curved in nicely above my hips, and although my legs were short, they were toned. The only thing that could use some work was my ass, which was virtually nonexistent. Some past partners specifically liked my "small butt" but to me it just looked painfully flat.

I grabbed the white towel on the towel rack and wrapped it above my chest, then opened the door back into Ben's flat.

Ben had moved from the stereo to the tray table where he was organizing the lotions and oils. He looked up when he heard the bathroom door open, and motioned with his head for me to come over and lie down on the table. I walked over briskly, shivering at the cold air hitting my skin.

I lay flat on the table, stomach down and head to the side so my ear was resting against the padding. Ben moved from the tray table and came to stand right beside me.

"I'm just going to lower your towel to your waist. Just let me know if anything I do makes you uncomfortable or hurts or if you want to stop at any time," he said, quietly.

I nodded, a bit too anxious to speak, and closed my eyes. I felt him pulling the white towel from under me and folding it back so that everything down to my lower back was exposed. Again, I shivered.

He chuckled. "Cold, hey?"

"Yeah," I murmured into the table.

"Here, this should warm you back up."

I heard him rubbing his palms together quickly, and then felt blissfully warm oil being drizzled down my spine. He capped the bottle with a *snap* and then I felt his hands rubbing the slick oil across my skin.

He started with my shoulders, using his palms to work the oil in and loosen the tense muscles around my neck. It felt like heaven; I could see why Kim recommended him in a heartbeat. He found a rhythm that gently worked my back like waves lapping at the shore, and with each exhale, I found myself slipping into a deeper and deeper tranquil peacefulness.

I almost fell asleep on that table, and wouldn't have awoken if not for the smallest awareness in the very back of my mind that his hands were slowly working themselves around my ribcage, closer and closer to my naked breasts. It wasn't as if he could really touch them--they were fully planted face-down on the table--but his fingers caressed the soft flesh on the sides and I felt a twinge between my legs that I languidly dismissed.

Eventually his touch left my upper body and he started moving further down, stopping every now and then to readjust the towel so that it covered less and less of my body. Again, I was somewhat aware of this, but the warmth from his hands left me more or less ambivalent. I sighed, and a lazy smile spread across my face, finally content and fully enjoying the massage.

I must have truly fallen asleep this time, because the next thing I remember was feeling oddly horny, although still peaceful. Then came the sudden realization that one of his hands had slipped between my legs and was gently rubbing my clit in circles. All at once, I was fully awake. For a second, my anxiety flared and I had to fight my urge to jump up from my lying position, grab my clothes from the washroom and run out the door. Instead, I took some deep breaths and slowly began to focus more on the sensations his fingers were bringing me.

His middle finger was pressed firmly against the hood of my clitoris and his fourth and fifth finger knuckles rested lightly against my entrance, which, I suddenly realized with embarrassment, was sopping wet. As he continued to rub me, my levels of pleasure increased and even the thought that what he was doing was wrong became more of a turn on than a hinderance. After a minute or two, all my anxiety had fled my body and was replaced by an insatiable horniness brought on by the constant teasing he was providing my pussy.

At one point, his finger brushed my clit in such a way that it became exposed from underneath the hood and a soft moan escaped my body uncontrollably.

I thought he might not have heard, but a second later he spoke. "Does it feel good?" he asked in a quiet, low tone.

"Mmmm," was all I was able to reply with.

His fingers left my pussy and I whimpered at the sudden coldness. I felt his hand on my hip tugging toward him, and realized he wanted me to flip over. I pushed myself up and turned to lie on my back, my fully erect nipples and shaved pussy now fully on display. I didn't even care. I was so turned on by the whole experience, all worries about my physical features had vanished.

His hands cupped my breasts and he dragged his fingernails in circles around my areolae, making sure not to touch my nipples. I moaned and arched my back so my chest was thrust further toward him, begging for him silently to just touch them, pull on them, anything.

After a minute or two of teasing me, he grabbed each one between his thumb and index finger and rolled them back and forth and I moaned even louder.

"You like it when I play with your hard nipples?"

I muttered incoherently.

He pinched them hard and pulled, making me yell out in pleasure.

"What's that?"

"Yes, it feels so good!" I cried.

He let go of them, and replaced one hand with his mouth, slurping and sucking my tit while he groped at the other. I opened my eyes to watch him, and I swear it was the hottest thing I've ever seen.

"Oh, fuck," I said, staring at his tongue flicking over the tip of my breast.

He stood up from his bent over position, and keeping one hand on my tit, he moved the other back in between my legs. "Bring your legs up," he instructed, so I did. With my feet resting flat against my table and legs bent, my dripping wet pussy was now spread wide for him to see.

He dipped his fingers in my juices and began to rub my clit again, making me squirm on the table. Suddenly, he slipped two fingers inside me.

"Fuck!" I exclaimed.

He pumped them inside my hot hole, using his thumb to pleasure my clit. "How about this? Does this feel good?"

"Fuck, yes!" I cried.

"Yeah? You like it when I fuck your tight wet pussy with my fingers?"

"Oh, yes," I moaned.

"You're so fucking hot, Olivia. I wanted to fuck you as soon as you showed up at my door."

"Fuck, I'm going to cum!"

"Oh, no, you're not. Not yet." He took his fingers out of me instantly and stopped rubbing me. "I want you to cum on my cock. I want to feel the walls of your cunt wrapping tightly around me, spasming as you cum on my dick."

If I wasn't horny before, I sure as hell was ready to fuck now. I wanted to feel his hard cock inside me, no, I needed it inside me, and I needed it this instant.

I sat up and began to undo his belt, then unzipped his pants. He stepped out of them and his boxers as well, revealing a gorgeous long uncircumcised boner, hard as a rock. I immediately took it in my mouth, slathering his member in a thick coat of saliva. He ran his hands through my hair and gave a low moan.

He then helped me get off the table and turned me around so that I wasn't facing him. He bent me over so that my ass was toward him, and forearms resting on the table, head down. He rubbed his cock against the entrance of my pussy, gathering the juices and teasing me.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked coyly.

"Fuck me," I whimpered.

"You'll have to do better than that," he said, mock disapprovingly.

"Fine. I want you to take that long hard cock of yours and plunge it balls-deep inside my tight wet pussy so I can feel you up to my cervix, and fuck me relentlessly until I cum all over your dick."

"That can be arranged," he replied, then suddenly thrust every inch of himself inside of me in one go. Every fibre of my being burst with pure ecstasy. He fucked me hard, pulling out so just his tip was nuzzled between the lips of my cunt before slamming hard back into me, and with each thrust, I felt myself rising closer and closer to a climax. He filled me up so fucking good, and the friction created as he pounded my hole mercilessly drove me insane.

"Oh, oh, oh, oh, fuck me, FUCK, I'm going to cum!" I screamed.

"Cum all over my dick, cum for me!"

Pure bliss. I was floating on a cloud. Then a wave crashed over me and I began spasming hard, riding out the orgasm. Ben slowed his pace to match my spasms, and it seemed that this pleasure lasted forever.

When I had finished, he began to pick up his pace again. I had barely just come down from the orgasm, and he was fucking me even harder than before. I felt a new pleasure rise from the depths.

In and out, his dick pounded me from behind. I could tell he was coming close as his breathing was getting shorter and shorter, so I put a hand between my legs and began to play with myself.

"I'm getting, unh, closer," he said.

"Mmm, me too," I replied, rubbing vigorously.

"Oh, fuck, I'm cuming, fuck!" Warm spurts of cum erupted inside of me, and I could feel his dick contracting. It pushed me over the edge, and I started climaxing as well.

We both rode out the waves of pleasure emanating from where his cock was buried deep within me. When we had finished, we lay panting, sweaty, and baked in pleasure on the floor. "What a massage," I commented, jokingly.

He grinned. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."