Stephanie looked at her watch. It was eleven o'clock and her visitor was due at noon so she had better not waste time. She had completed most of her housework, the place was looking reasonably respectable because she knew he was a stickler for tidiness, so all she had to do now was get herself ready. There was time for a shower, to select the appropriate costume and lingerie, get the massage table out, do her make-up and select the implements she would be needing. It gave her a subtle thrill to go methodically through all the steps needed to be fully ready to meet her visitor's requirements, as though she was compiling a shopping list but with the objective in this case of making sure her guest was fully accommodated in his needs and left fully satisfied.
She stripped off and stepped into the shower, soaping herself luxuriously and allowing her fingers to play with her nipples while she thought of the session to come. He was definitely her favourite client and she wondered how it was that she could have this much fun and be paid for it too. Her nipples stiffened as she thought about the last session and what she had in mind for this one. Her right hand strayed down to her pussy and fingered her clit slowly while her left continued to play with her breasts. Perhaps she had been a little too lenient last time, naughty boys really did need a good firm dose of discipline to teach them the errors of their ways. She had obtained a new toy since his last visit and he would be the first to enjoy (if that was the right word) its sting.
Stephanie stepped out of the shower and pulled a large towel round herself, briskly rubbing herself dry. No time to wash her hair today, but it was in reasonable nick and anyway she would be wearing it up. After finishing her drying, Stephanie allowed the towel to drop to the floor and examined herself critically in the full length mirror in the bathroom. Not too bad for 37 she thought, although there were some stretch marks as the result of giving birth to her two girls and her bottom was a bit too big for her liking. Whenever she mentioned this to her husband Nick, his inevitable reaction was to say "Too big is just perfect in my book," which of course he thought was very funny. Quite curvy and firm, as a result of cycling and a fairly vigorous exercise regime, but definitely too big she thought. Boobs pretty good and not yet beginning to sag, a generous 36C, she wouldn't have minded them a bit bigger but again that wit Nick would comment that "Anything bigger than a decent handful is a waste."
She went to her underwear drawer and found her favourite black lacy suspender belt, attached it round her waist and found a new packet of sheer black stockings that she rolled up each leg in turn before clipping the tops of each to the suspender clasps. There was no doubt about it, stockings and suspenders were sexy and she could fully understand the male preference for these outmoded garments. They might take longer to put on than tights, and you couldn't wear them with tight dresses without the nobbles made by the clasps being visible to a beady male (or female) eye, but they just looked and felt sexy, as well as allowing for the free passage of air around one's privates which had to be more healthy.
She found a matching set of black bra and knickers that went with the suspender belt and stood back to admire the combination. Yes, that would do nicely she thought. Now to get out the massage table from under the bed in the spare room; she would finished getting dressed once she had that all set up, she thought. She set up the table and got the fitted sheet from the laundry cupboard, with the hole that matched the cut-out for the patient's face. Next she went to her bathroom cupboard and found the bottle of massage oil, the medical lubricant and two pairs of latex gloves. Finally she picked up the ebony Mason & Pearson hairbrush from her dressing table, and then went to her secret place in a top cupboard and pulled out her trusty wooden paddle and her newest acquisition, a sturdy black leather oval paddle that was yet to be used in anger. That should be enough to teach him the lesson he deserved she thought, with a smile. She laid the implements, the gloves, the massage oil and the lubricant in a neat row on the dressing table next to the massage couch, turned on two sidelights and drew the curtains. Finally she lit two scented candles. The atmosphere was now soft, quiet and fragrant.
Time to get ready herself, she thought. She sat at the dressing table in her own bedroom and quickly and efficiently applied her make-up, concentrating on the eyes with a subtle application of mascara and eye shadow. She knew she was attractive to men and sometimes less was more. Her blue eyes offset her dark hair that carried just a hint of auburn and once she had finished her make-up she piled her hair on top of her head and held it in place with a large hair-clasp. Nurses should always have their hair off the collar at work she reminded herself and a nurse was exactly what Stephanie was. Her job as matron at Wellborough School occupied her for three days a week, her daughters were at school themselves, Nick was at work and so she had developed an interesting sideline that earned her some pocket money on the other two days.
She got up and found her newly washed and ironed uniform in the wardrobe. It was the genuine article from her days working at the hospital, although she had judiciously shortened it to sit three inches above the knee. She fished out a pair of black peephole toe shoes - with a modest three inch heel which nonetheless accentuated the curve of her calves - and was now just about ready to receive her guest. The final addition was a pair of spectacles that she didn't really need to wear but which made her look more authoritative, which was exactly the look she wanted to convey for the session she was about to conduct. Stephanie checked her watch. Good, still twenty minutes to go, which would leave her enough time for a cup of coffee and a pleasant contemplation of the hour and a half to come. After all, there was no rule about not enjoying your work, was there?
Precisely at noon the doorbell rang and her heels click-clacked on the tile floor as she went to answer the door.
"Ah, Mr Smith, right on time I see," she said with a wide smile.
"I wouldn't want to be late for this," her visitor replied with an equally broad smile, "I might get into trouble."
"Would you like a cup of coffee before we start?" enquired Stephanie.
"That would be very nice," her visitor replied. He followed her into the kitchen, noting the beguiling sway of her hips and the slight swishing of her stockings as she walked.
Stephanie poured a fresh cup from the cafetiere and sat down opposite her visitor, scrutinising him surreptitiously but carefully. It looked as though he was still keeping in shape (she would get a better view on that very shortly when he had his clothes off) and his brown slightly curly hair, amused eyes and sensuous lips were as attractive as ever. Most of all he was good at making her laugh.
"Now, how long is it since you last visited me, Mr Smith?" she asked.
"I think it must be about six months," he replied.
"Too long a gap, you really need to come and see me more frequently than that," said Stephanie with mock sternness. "Now finish off that coffee and come upstairs, we have some catching up to do."
"I should settle the paperwork first," he said, pulling out an envelope and laying it on the kitchen work-top.
"Ah, thanks very much," she said, "Good to get that out of the way."
He followed her up the stairs, trying to work out whether he could glimpse the tops of her stockings as she preceded him.
"Now then, would you like to take a shower first and then please lie face down on the massage couch and I will join you shortly," instructed Stephanie.
He did as he was told and a few minutes later was lying obediently face down on the couch with his towel around his waist. Stephanie entered the room and tutted:
"I don't think you need that," she said, removing the towel from around his waist and leaving him naked on the couch. She slapped him hard once on the bottom with her open palm.
"Now then, let's begin with some relaxation massage," she announced in a brisk tone, undoing the top of the massage oil and pouring a generous measure into her cupped palm. She warmed it up between her hands and then began long sweeping strokes up his back.
"Hmm, you feel quite tense, are you under a lot of stress at work?"
"Well, we are quite busy at present, but I'm coping."
"Your muscles don't lie and I can definitely feel some bunching. I will have to be quite firm with you."
With that Stephanie began to apply more pressure in shorter strokes, her fingers digging into his shoulder blades and the back of his neck. He exhaled involuntarily as she hit a particularly tender spot.
"Oouff, steady on," he gasped.
"No pain, no gain," she replied with a hint of humour in her voice.
After steadily working on his shoulders and neck, Stephanie felt him start to relax and moved down to his waist, noting the modest love handles at his hips. Nonetheless, he was in pretty good shape she concluded, not bad at all for a chap in his forties. She warmed up some more oil and applied it to his bottom, kneading and pulling like a particularly firm pastry. Little mutters of satisfaction were now escaping from his lips. Good, he's starting to unwind, she thought.
Stephanie now turned her attention to his feet and ankles, rubbing the oil slowly and sensually in between his toes, an unusually erogenous zone before running her finger tips up the soles. Slowly she worked her way up his legs, stopping frequently to apply more oil, until she had reached a point a couple of inches from his groin. Now she switched to featherlight tracing with her fingertips from his feet, in a zigzag pattern up the backs of his legs and reaching a point just on the inside of his thighs, a tantalising few centimetres short of his crotch. She then repeated the fingertip tracing from his neck and down his back, across his buttocks and allowing her fingers to stray just inside the crack of his bottom. She was rewarded by an imperceptible widening of his legs and a slight lifting of his hips from the table. If her guess was right, he should be having trouble accommodating his cock between his stomach and the table and was trying to allow it a bit more room to expand. So far so good, she thought.
She spread some more oil on her fingers and reapplied them to massage the insides of his thighs, working up slowly and deliberately until her fingertips just brushed lightly, almost accidentally, against his perineum. A small gasp escaped his lips and his hips rotated slightly. Stephanie's fingers crept quietly up one side of his groin and then the other. He should be ready now, she thought.
"Mr Smith, have you had your testicles checked recently?" she enquired in a detached manner. "It's very important you know."
"Err, no," he whispered, "I haven't."
"Right, let's deal with that," said Stephanie briskly, gently cupping his balls in her hand.
She slowly and methodically kneaded his balls, noting the involuntary jerking of his hips as she did so. She took her time before announcing,
