Dec. 1st: The massage therapist
It was Christmas, and my friend Heather and I had decided to not buy each other presents this year. Instead we wanted to go to a spa together, and spoil ourselves rotten for an entire day. And that day was today.
"What are you having?" I asked, while studying the menu of what they had to offer.
"Hmm... I don't know."
Heather chewed on her lip. Then her finger darted to something on the list.
"Oh! Hydrating facial! Definitely. My face is like a desert. And I think I want a body wrap, too."
"And my body is stiff and sore from all the stress and carrying all those boxes and furniture. Who knew it was so much work to move?"
Heather cackled loudly.
"Pretty much everyone who has moved before?"
I nodded, realizing she was right.
"You'll have a full massage then. Let me see... This."
She tapped her finger a couple of times on the paper.
"Therapeutic deep tissue massage?" I coughed.
"Yeah? That will do you good."
I tried to loosen the tension in my shoulders by stretching them, to no avail.
"I guess you're right. But it better be a woman," I mumbled under my breath, as a smiling lady greeted us and took our orders. Then we were shown to our rooms, told to strip down and put on a fluffy bathrobe. And I didn't have to wait long until there was a knock on the door, and a white dressed therapist with curly, black hair pulled back into a ponytail, came in. But... It wasn't a woman. It was a man.
"Hello, my name is Michael Jackson and I'm gonna be your m..."
"I specifically asked for a woman," I abrupted him. Then I blushed when I realized how rude I sounded. And I blushed even more when I saw how good looking the man was. He was a little taller than me, slender, with broad shoulders and a pair of brown eyes that looked right into your soul. At least that's what it felt like. And right now I saw disappointment and a hint of sadness in them.
"I-I mean... Hi. I'm Gina. Gina Garrison. But my friends just call me Ginny."
I reached out my hand and greeted him, and saw him light up with a gorgeous million dollar smile, before he bit his lip.
"So, what do you want me to do?" I asked, still feeling really awkward about him being a male therapist. But they were professionals, and this place was one of the best ones in the city. I could trust him, right?
"You can remove your bathrobe and lay down on your stomach."
He held up a huge towel to block his sight, and in addition, turned his head away. I relaxed a bit. He was professional. Not a creep. And when I'd done what he said, he covered me with the same towel from neck down.
"Are you ready?" he asked. And I hummed in confirmation, glad he couldn't see my face. I was literally naked in front of him, if it wasn't for that towel and those hideous, disposable paper panties I had on.
"I'm gonna start with your back. And just tell me whenever something doesn't feel right, okay?"
"Is the music too loud?"
"No, it's good."
"And you're comfortable?"
"Yeah," I lied. I wasn't. And I was downright nervous when he pulled down the towel and folded it right below my waist. But when I felt the touch of his oily hand carefully stroke over my back to make my skin smooth and slick, something happened. It was like I stopped sensing anything else but his hands' slow trail along my spine.
"Still okay?" he asked, and I nodded again.
"Good. I'm not going to talk unless you want me to, but I'll inform you about what I'm going to do with you throughout this session. And please let me know if you want me to stop."
He paused shortly.
"This is a deep tissue massage. But how deep do you want me to go?"
I blushed furiously. This question coming from a man, sounded a lot different than if it was from a woman!
"Uhm... What do you mean?"
"Do you want me to be gentle, or do you like to be a little rougher?"
I hesitated a bit, fighting the urge to giggle.
"I think I can handle it a bit rough," I finally said, and was glad he didn't have to meet his gaze. But I noticed that he lingered a couple of seconds too long before he cleared his voice and started talking again.
"Okay. Uhm... Good. We'll just start then, and... Yeah, just start."
He let more of the warm and aromatic oil cover my back, and started massaging my sore muscles. I had a lot of tension in and around my neck, and he didn't move on until I'd started to loosen up a bit. But I moaned half in pain and half in pleasure when he worked on the muscle knot between my shoulders. Then he slowed down a bit.
After a while I felt more relaxed than I'd been in a long time. And I barely noticed that he covered my back and started massaging my feet and legs. And this time I moaned in pleasure. Only silently though, because I didn't want him to hear. But I think he did anyway, because when he spoke up again, his voice sounded a bit darker, almost like he was catching a cold.
"You liked it rough," he said, and dragged the words.
"But I just have to ask again. How deep do you want me to go?"
I stiffened a little, and almost stopped breathing. Was he insinuating something else than just a massage? Like, a different kind of massage? Nah. That couldn't be.
"Deep enough," I answered hesitantly.
But when he continued up my thighs, he pulled away a little more of the towel, so he could also include massaging my butt cheeks. And he wasn't kidding. With a firm grip around them both, he kneaded my ass like a dough, and I prayed to God that the paper panties didn't show off anything. But the way he randomly spread them and pushed them together, I knew it was impossible that he didn't see something. But then he stopped.
"Turn around," he ordered, and his voice still had that dark, husky tone. And like before, he held up the towel so he wouldn't see when I turned around, even though I wondered about the purpose of it, since he was about to see me anyway. But he started gentle by massaging my arms, all the way to the tip of my fingers. And then he looked at me with an indescribable expression on his face. It wasn't creepy in any way, but it was definitely a bit shady. Big brown eyes bore into mine, before he licked his lips.
"Are you still comfortable with this?" he asked, and I could tell he wanted to smirk. And a little devil in me made me squint my eyes to let him know that I knew what he was up to.
"Go on," I challenged, wanting to see how far he would go. I still considered him as a professional therapist, so he wouldn't cross the line. Of that, I was sure. But when he placed his large hands on my stomach and covered me with glistening massage oil, I couldn't ignore the rush of electricity that shot through my body, and straight down to my core. And the way he rubbed my skin, made his fingers randomly touch close to my area. Very close. Until he shifted a bit upwards.
My breath hitched the first time he touched my breasts. And I cursed inwardly when I felt my nipples react like nipples do. And judging by the look on his Michael's face, he liked what he saw. So he cupped my breasts in his palms and gently massaged them, just the way he'd done with the rest of my body. He didn't do it for too long though, but just as his hands left my skin, I felt a light pinch in each of my nipples that made a certain part of me start burning. And when I coincidentally looked at his groin, I could see the imprint of a solid erection, partly hidden behind the health care clothes he was wearing.
He licked his lips and looked at me, and I noticed a different glow in his eyes. But he slowly covered my torso with the towel again, and moved on to my legs. He went slower now, almost lingering for each stroke. And he held my gaze while he worked further up from my calf to my knee, and then my thigh.
"How deep did you want me to go?" he asked, and I could see his lips curl upwards ever so slightly. And without even blinking, I gave into my desires for this irresistible stranger that lit my body on fire.
"All the way," I whispered, and a strained groan escaped through his throat. And still with his eyes locked with mine, he continued his journey up my thighs, so featherlight and slow that it almost drove me insane. But he didn't go all the way. He just tickled the area right below my panties, and I knew they had to be soaked already.
"Is this deep enough for you?"
His voice was so deep, it didn't even sound like him anymore. And for a moment, I shut my eyes and shook my head.
"No. Further," I whispered, holding back a moan. And I threw all my inhibitions away and mentally begged for him to touch me.
I felt a light pressure on my swollen knob, before it disappeared the moment after. I gasped, then groaned impatiently.
"Yes. More," I begged. And he smirked as he fulfilled my wish. And this time he rubbed me a little, before his hand disappeared again.
"No. Please don't stop."
"Do you want me to go deeper?"
I nodded feverishly and squirmed on the bench in front of him, when his fingers went straight up to where I needed him the most. His fingers were so incredibly soft and gentle. And this time, he pulled the panties a little bit to the side and made direct contact, and I hissed through my teeth. Then I moaned when he finally started rubbing me, spreading my juices to make sure I was nice and wet. And automatically, I moved my hips to meet his movements. But then he stopped again, and I groaned and sat up so fast that I felt dizzy. But that didn't keep me from placing my hand on his bulge and give him a few good strokes. And I immediately got awarded with a long, hoarse moan.
"I want you to go all the way... Daddy."
And with that, our lips crashed together with a hunger of a hundred starving lions, and our hands gripped and removed whatever piece of clothing that came in the way. And when I finally felt his thick, warm dick in my hand, we moaned simultaneously. Me, because I needed him inside of me, and him because he finally got released from his prison.
"Condom?" he mumbled without taking his lips from mine.
"Pill," I answered, and guided him toward my throbbing womanhood like the world was on fire around us. And he didn't hesitate. With a firm grip on my ass, he lifted me up on the bench and spread my legs for him. Then he claimed his position between them and used the tip of his member to part my folds. And with his forehead leaning against mine, heaving for air, he gently pushed inside, expanding my walls to the absolute max.
"Fuck!" I exclaimed, and squeezed my eyes shut. But I wrapped my legs around his waist to make sure that he knew I wanted more.
"Is this deep enough for you?" he murmured into my ear, before he kissed and sucked on my neck. But I shook my head.
And he obeyed, and thrusted his hips once more.
"How about now?"
I groaned, but shook my head.
He pulled out a bit, before he invaded my vagina again.
"I said I liked it rough, now fucking give it to me!" I growled, and scratched my nails across his back.
"As you wish, princess."
And with that he became a wild animal that finally tore free from his chains. The pounded inside me, making me moan for each time, and he didn't hold back one bit.
"Fu-ck-ye-ah!" I exclaimed in staccato, almost unable to breathe. The pleasure he gave me was so intense that it was almost unbearable, and I stood no chance of holding back the sudden orgasm that overpowered me. I arched my back and bit my lip to keep myself from screaming. But he didn't slow down. Not one bit. He battered my insides like he was possessed. So I never came down from my peak before another one flushed over me. Then another one, until he gave me his last rough thrusts that made the whole bench move, and then he stilled with a groan, finally getting his release.
Slowly, we parted and I let myself fall back down on the bench, trying to catch my breath. And he started pulling his clothes back on, and fixed his hair. Then I don't remember anything more until I felt someone gently nudging my shoulder.
"Ms. Garrison? Wake up."
I slowly stirred to life from Michael's soft voice, and opened my eyes, only to find myself staring at the floor through the hole in the bench.
"You fell asleep. Can you turn around, please?"
I cleared my throat in embarrassment. I just had a wet dream about my massage therapist. God, I hope I didn't moan in my sleep!
"Uhm... Yeah. Sure."
But when I turned around to face him, he smirked and looked away, blushing just as hard as I did. And when he turned a bit, I saw why, because his bulge was just as large as I had envisioned in my dream.
"I'm sorry," I mumbled. "I... I can't go through with this. I need to go."
"No!" he exclaimed, then looked embarrassed.
"I mean... If you don't want to, it's okay. I understand."
I raised an eyebrow. How could he possibly understand that I was so horny that I was about to jump his bones in this very second?
"Yeah. No offense to you, of course. You're really good... At what you're doing."
Good God! Could this get anymore awkward?
"None taken. I just wondered if you had any plans for Christmas?"
Getting laid hopefully, since I'm behaving like a cat in heat. I obviously needed someone to fuck me senseless.
I was about to blow him off, but something stopped me. I just made an absolute fool of myself, still my eyes were drawn to the man in front of me, and I realized how incredibly handsome he was. Even more in reality than in my dream.
"No, not really," I answered honestly.
"Great! That's... uhm... Great. Because..."
He blushed and seemed really shy.
"I wanna ask you out on a date. Dinner or movie, or something?"
He swallowed nervously, and I felt a smile gradually form on my lips.
My mouth fell open in surprise.
"I thought you said during Chr... Nevermind. Time and place?"
We made a deal then said our goodbyes, and I was just about to leave when he cleared his voice.
"Maybe you should get dressed before you leave?"
My eyes widened in shock, and I looked down at myself. I was still naked, except for those ugly paper panties! But when Michael started to giggle, I felt the laughter bubble up inside of me, too. Little did we know that this would be a memory we'd look back at after fifty years of marriage. Now, that's what I call true Christmas spirit.