The Potent Phrase Pt. 03

"Ninety minutes, no feet." Angela repeated to me and set the little kitchen timer they all used. She then began her usual routine of spreading the towel over my back and legs and to perform the initial massage me through the towel in a way that I always assumed was a way to take care of people who were somewhat sweaty or less recently wash than I.

As always she spend some quality time on my ass which I felt was a good sign since I had instructed to not to do anything sexual, just for the sake of it. if she didn't feel like doing so. I felt her hand press down on my asshole through the towel but I couldn't really remember if she was doing it more than on previous sessions. I actually crossed my fingers as my arms dangled over the edge of the table.

As soon as she began her usual "extra attention" on my ass it seemed as though something changed. The towel was pushed down to my legs more quickly than usual and my underwear was pulled way down onto my the top of my thighs.

As per the usual program she came to the head of the table to begin oiling my back. This time, however, her crotch was right up against my forehead and her strokes continued all the way to the bottom of my buttocks, pressing her firmly against my head, then returning up the actual crack of my ass before repeating. Eventually she moved on to another of my favorites: the head straddle. I've no idea if there is any practical purpose to this position for the masseuse but I've always enjoyed the sensation of being between their legs. Usually the best one can expect is to feel the thighs against one's ears but today Angela gripped my whole head tightly and stroked all the way down my back till I could feel the warm softness of her pussy on the top and back of my head. Eventually she moved back onto the floor but she pressed her crotch tightly against the edge of the front of my head. This was getting interesting.

The massage followed its usual routine described above but on steroids. The less interesting portions seemed to have been shortened and the exciting parts stretched out and enhanced. The shoulder straddles were long and intense and I felt or imagined an extra hotness, perhaps even a wetness as she pressed her pubis though her thin, yoga-style pants against my bare skin.

In no time it was ass time. In my experience oil is applied to the hands rather than directly onto the skin and I'm unsure if this is AMP economy or a more effective technique. When it came to my ass today, however, Angel began with oiled hands but as soon as I was coated to the usual degree she made me jump (and harden) by pouring oil directly onto the top of my ass crack. She touched my shoulder to apologise for making me jump and tell me to relax in her capable hands.

She returned to the head of the table and straddled me again. Then she began to knead my buttocks pushing me and spreading me while the oil ran down, over my asshole and onto the back of my balls. She slid both hands down my ass and between my legs in such a way that her thumbs slid over my anus and the backs of her hand touched both sides of my balls. He strokes lengthened until she was reaching all the way to the base of my cock which was now fully erect and pressing hard against the table. I pushed my ass back and up to relieve the pressure and to beg for even more attention on my ass. As she stroked her thumbs pressed harder and harder against my anus and she slid over it more and more slowly.

When I barely could take any more of the sensation I felt her begin to sit up. Her left hand moved up my back but her right paused and her index finger slowly traced up from my cock root, between my balls, and slid slightly into my well-oiled asshole for a brief, exquisite moment in time.

This time as she dismounted she didn't climb up and off me but instead slid her crotch all the way back against my head pressing my face hard into the face hole. Then she was gone. This was the usual time for the hot stones followed by the hot washcloth before the flip. She seemed to be gone a little longer than usual and when she returned the hot, time-wasting stones were absent and the hot cloth began to clean off my back. As I described, the relaxation of the massage process seems to make my erections diminish quite quickly which is helpful for modesty reasons when it comes time to flip over. Today though I had been fully hard from her ass work and I was still at least half way there. The hot cloth finished with my back and continued to my ass. The cheeks were cleaned efficiently but then she began to remove the oil slick from my crack and balls. She began at the bottom by fully squeezing the base of my cock through the cloth. My balls were carefully cupped and cleaned. Then a flannel finger slowly pulled up to, over, into my asshole and she was done. And I was hard again.

Angela prepared the towel for the flip over but she had not pulled up my underwear. The could be dangerous. I turned over when she instructed, with the back of my trunks around my thighs and the front pulled dangerously low. Rather than the shaft running along the open flap I could feel the cool air on my cockhead. I sensed that my hard cock might actually be protruding out of my pants now and Angela must have been able to see it while she arranged the towel over him and my legs.

Angela came to the head of the table. No stool. No time to be wasted on the face massage no matter how pleasant is was. She stood against the end of the table and placed her hands on the top of my chest. I opened my eyes to watch this part as I always did but, to my disappointment, her T-shirt was trapped between her tummy and the table. With the way things were progressing and with last week's unaided "up blouse" I had been hoping for more. At least it was a nice view up her tummy to her pretty little tits - I could actually see that her nipples were hard.

Wait! I could really see that her nipples were hard. Angela wasn't wearing a bra! Never had I ever seen a masseuse here, or even at the out-of-town happy-ending places, a girl without a bra. I guess it's much too risky to show any hint of "extra services" that way.

She began to slide her hands down my chest. They didn't stop short, they continued right over my pelvis, under the lowered waistband of my underwear and down my inner thighs where they stroked against my cock. Standing close to the table as she was caused her loose shirt material to slide over my face and when she reached so far down her tummy pressed against my face. I could actually feel her navel pass over my nose. I could smell the warm, unperfumed scent of her body. Now on the downstroke her hands, perhaps her thumbs, were tight against my cock and she was practically masturbating me. Chest, tummy, down cock, up cock, repeat. I felt that if she continued this she would soon make me cum.

But she didn't. She stepped away slightly and paused. I could feel my the cool air on my cock and I knew he was stand up straight and out of the flap of my trunks. This was incredible. Angela bent over me again and this time the T-shirt hem was loose. This time when she repeated last week's trick I could see her perfect little conical breasts and their hard nipples. This time she straighten up to give me the view before sliding slowly back till the T-shirt caught on my chin and her bare breasts dragged over my face. Over and over she repeated her actions. Sometimes her breasts slid over symmetrically over my whole face and sometimes a hard little nipple slid right across my eager mouth. This unprecedented, literal titillation was amazing but I wished she'd stop moving and let me suckle her for a minute - or a week. My cock was standing straight up.

Perhaps I'd overdone my instructions to her. I was now confident that little Angela liked me enough to do these things and it wasn't just a paid service after all but I'd have been more than happy for things to stop there. Bare tits in my mouth and some attention to my cock - in recent times, if I needed more than that, I'd wait for my buddy return or perhaps just pick someone up. But the power of the phrase has a corrupting influence. I resolved to be careful however I'd didn't actually resolve to use the phrase right there and then to slow things down.

As I recount this I seriously considered toning down what happened next. I could tell you that she put one hand in her pants and frigged herself to orgasm while jerking me off with the other or something similarly hot and believable. But apparently I'd created a monster out of shy, quiet little Angela and I will tell you what really happened next. You can take it or leave it.

Angela stood up and stepped back from the table. There was a moment while she broke contact with me as she would if she was fetching more oil or picking up a washcloth. She bent over me again and kissed me full and hard on the lips before climbing up on the table and straddling my head. This time, however, I was face up and this time her pants were pulled down to her ankles. She reached for my cock with both hands and pressed her warm, wet pussy onto my mouth. I savoured her exotic flavor, and then I stiffened my tongue and penetrated her.

She rode my face and tongue like a woman possessed and she barely stroked me. She used my cock more like a handle than anything but it was enough, with barely a stroke from her I was shooting cum over her hands and my stomach. In seconds she was thrashing on me and gripping my head like a soft warm vice. She didn't squirt in my mouth or do anything to make my account any less believable, she just quietly came on my face.

We stayed like that for a moment until the spell was broken. Throughout the massage I had heard no-one else in the parlour but that rarely meant there was no-one there. Reality came back to us and with one last squeeze on my shrivelling cock she dismounted and began to clean herself up and pull up her pants. She exited the room and came back a minute later with a final warm cloth just as the timer began to chime. She picked up my soft cock and cleaned it before mopping up the bigger mess on my stomach. She looked completely normal and I noticed that her bra was back in place.

"Time's up sir."

"Thank you, that was great."

We said just like a hundred times before.