Chantilly Lace 1

The therapist I saw the other day was a traveling therapist. Apparently he set up shop in a different city in Texas each week. My friend Angela had seen him the last time he was in town and recommended I see him. We've been friends for years and she knew I had a regular massage therapist I saw once a month for the last several years. But Angela was pretty confident I'd like this new guy. His name was Jacob and he had a website which looked clean, straight forward and professional. I noted the various credentials he listed on the site. His appointments were scheduled online and as I scrolled through the various normal options I came across the one Angela pointed out to me. Chantilly Lace. I couldn't believe the price. It was more than double the average price of the other sessions. Angela didn't mention that fact. Oh well, I suppose you have to try new things. I hope it's worth it.

I was really nervous for some reason. Angela would never lead me in the wrong direction but something about the way she said she felt after her session with Jacob left me wondering. Surely Jacob was a legitimate therapist because his website showed all of his credentials. Why was I so nervous? I arrived twenty minutes early as I always do. I'd gotten an automated email about paperwork before my massage today and I wanted to be sure to get there in plenty of time. The office wasn't terribly difficult to find but I did have to pay attention. He had his name on the door with a makeshift sign and that was it. After following the instructions on my phone's maps and his email, I found the right door and went inside.

My first reaction was the smell. It was sweet and reminded me of cinnamon rolls. I guess it had the proper effect as I was instantly comforted by both the smell and the warmth. After walking into his door I saw Jacob for the first time. He wasn't terribly handsome and maybe a bit overweight but his presence was extremely soothing. Who was this guy that just by his mere presence I'm noticeably more comfortable? He greeted me without standing up and offered me the paperwork to fill out. It was all very ordinary paperwork asking about my stress levels and medications and what not. The second page, however, made me pause. It was a "Consent to Treat" form that clarified several things for me to acknowledge and sign. I wasn't overly shocked by any of it; I consider myself a very open minded and liberal woman but what made me pause was the fact that I caught the words "breast" and "vaginal." I was just about to sign the form before I caught those two words and I realized I really do need to read these things more often.

**

When receiving treatment by Jacob, you must be completely comfortable during your session. The session you've chosen today will include breast massage and a separate form will have to be filled out for that as well. If you wish to continue, please sign the form in the corresponding location at the bottom of the page.

**

I filled out the paperwork and we spent the next few minutes discussing my overall needs for massage and what to expect from the session. I asked him why this session was called Chantilly Lace. He explained that this session mimics the ideals behind the old popular fabric. He said this session was a mixture of delicate strokes and more deep therapeutic strokes, just as Chantilly has the rougher spots within the delicacy of the lace. Damn. He put thought into this.

I knew this was going to be a two hour session so I decided to go to the restroom beforehand. As I was finishing up in the restroom, a thought struck me that I needed to check my state of tidiness if I am going to have that much of my body worked on. I realized I was starting to get anxious in a really good way. I was actually excited about this now. I've had a full body massage before, or at least I'd thought I had.

I crossed back through the office and Jacob lead me into his therapy room. The cinnamon smell was coming from in here but it wasn't overpowering like you would imagine. The room was lit only with candle light and it gave an extremely warm feeling on top of the actual warmth of the room. I noticed there wasn't a blanket on the table and I found myself amused at the fact that my first thought was about getting cold rather than being covered. What is it about this guy that I'm so comfortable with him?

Jacob left the room and shut the door to allow me privacy as I got ready for my massage. I remember the paperwork saying I was allowed to leave my panties on which is what I normally do. For some reason that I still can't fully understand I decided to shuck them as well and go fully into this. So, here I am getting completely naked for a massage for the first time and I choose to do it when I won't be having a cover over me. Let's do this. I climbed onto the table and it was amazingly warm. I've never had a therapist warm up the table before. Between the heat of the room and the warmth of the table, I realize I certainly won't be getting chilly.

There was a knock on the door as I told him I was ready. Of course, in my mind I still wondered if I was. I heard the door open and shut. Wow, he's quiet for a bigger guy. I heard him shuffling things around on a nearby shelf and then he asked if I would like a towel to cover me. I said no and there was more shuffling sounds. The music that had been playing was turned up slightly, I think, and I heard him applying lotion to his hands. I am used to therapists always having cold hands or lotion to start with and was expecting no different with his initial touch.

It wasn't lotion. It wasn't cold. Warm, soothing oil with a hint of lavender fragrance was dripped onto my back between my shoulder blades. It almost felt like raindrops and I couldn't believe how much I felt I was melting already. His hands came down one at a time to smooth the oil over my skin. I've never had oil before but I definitely feel a difference. I like the oil much better.

His hands continued to glide slowly over my back slowly moving from just below my neck to just above my butt. It felt wonderful and I was beginning to melt. Jesus. How much am I going to melt today? The warm oil felt amazing and it provided a wonderful tickle as droplets escaped down my sides as he stroked up and down. The pressure increased as he went, his speed never changing. Eventually he was using quite a lot of pressure down my back but it felt marvelous. Where has this guy been my whole life?

I joked with him that I wanted to take his hands home with me. Can you hear a smile? He didn't say anything but I swear I heard the man smile. I was already more relaxed that most of the sessions I'd ever gotten before and we just got started!

I heard him sit down and just as I was starting to wonder why he began attacking my shoulder right next to my neck. Oh, my neck. Oh yes, please. Oh, that's amazing. I gasped. I felt the pressure, not from his hand or what he was doing but I felt the pressure above my ear with every pull on the muscle he was working on. I didn't have a headache but I could actually feel those headache muscles easing up. This guy is good. He moved around to the other side of my head and repeated the process. I took a nice deep breath.

He stood back up and slid his hands down my back again. This time, when he came back up, he was using his arms. I felt like I was dough and he was the rolling pin going back up my back. Except, his other hand stayed on my lower back. I felt his fingertips grazing, almost tickling, the top of my butt. I cannot describe with any kind of poignancy; I was being pleasantly squished, stretched, and lightly tickled all at once. Then he did it again! And again, and again.

He must have done that five times on each side. I can't know if he was doing that tickle thing on purpose of if it was just where his hand was that's where his fingers were. I don't know. I really don't care honestly. It felt so good. Who knew a total stranger's fingers on my butt would cause such a distinct feeling during a massage while simultaneously being rolled flat.

I don't know how long he worked on my back. It could have been minutes or an hour. To me time didn't seem to be working right. I relished the sensations of this session with such a relaxed mind that a minute or an hour didn't make any difference. My entire body was jelly and I was just enjoying the hell out of this. The fact that I was completely naked had absolutely no bearing anymore. If this is what it's like to get a massage naked then to hell with modesty.

He did things to my back that were sensational. It was still just a massage but I swear this man was caressing. He never did anything appropriate but... it just didn't matter anymore. I felt his fingers working a particular muscle all the way down my spine on either side. I knew what he was doing because almost every massage therapist does the same thing. But how was it different with Jacob? What was he doing that was so drastically different? Don't know, don't really care.

I took another deep breath.

Did I just moan? How embaras... ohhhhh... nope, not embarrassed.

Deep breath.

His hands went from my back to my butt! Oh my what he did to my butt. Again, it was nothing inappropriate; he didn't do anything different than what other therapists have done. But yes he did. He made it feel wonderful. The pressure didn't hurt, it was soothing. It was like a hug from a nurturing parent or the pressure of a weighted blanket. It was pressure. It was soothing. It was wonderfully relaxing.

I felt his hands all over the left cheek. It was like his hands were holding me completely and yet they were moving constantly. His fingers arched in small circles while his palm rolled and rotated. His fingers got close to the groove of my butt and it felt awesome. I'd never have let a typical therapist do that but it was just too good to care. I was so relaxed all I wanted was more.

That's when the feeling changed. It was no longer his hand on my butt. Was that his elbow? The intense pressure of him using his elbow paled as his other hand began the journey to my other cheek. He was soothing the other side as he worked this one. What a great way to keep me relaxed while he forced my muscles to submit to his pressure. I loved it. His elbow moved slightly and I was reminded of the dough feeling again like he was kneading me. The pressure didn't last too long as he moved his arm away. His hand trailed more circles to soothe the area and I took another deep breath. I don't think I've had so much fresh oxygen in my system in my life.

That time his fingers did move closer and closer to the center of my butt. He was kneading with his fingers then so close to more intimate and delicate skin. It felt amazing and I wouldn't have dreamt of having him stop. He moved to my other side and the entire process was repeated with the circles, the elbow, the soothing touch on the opposite cheek. That's when he started the delicate kneading as had before with the other cheek. Except that time he was actually massaging the center. I couldn't believe it, he was actually massaging my butt crack. I felt the pressure in my tail bone as he manipulated the tissues there. His entire palm was between my butt cheeks. I didn't know that could have possibly felt good. I was very wrong. Amazing! It should have felt weird that I could feel his hand touching my butt hole but oh my God was it so relaxing.

Another deep breath followed by a contented sigh.

He asked if what he was doing was alright and all I could think to respond was don't you dare stop. But all I managed was a sighing "Mhmm."

He moved his whole hand down. Yes, that's right, he moved it down. I felt the bottom of his palm graze me oh so gently just before moving back up the groove of my butt, over my tail bone, up by the center of my back where his other hand joined in to squeeze both of my shoulders. He touched me? Is that what happened? Sigh. I could only form simple thoughts at that point was my mind jello. You'd think, now that I'm reflecting back on this, that his touch should have been inappropriate. It wasn't. It was everything that therapy should be. Relaxing. Comforting. Soothing. Drool inducing.

I later realized that was only the first half of things. From my shoulders his hands never left my body as they trailed back down my back, over my butt, and down both of my legs at the same time. One hand moved to the other leg and he rained more oil down along the length of my leg. If I wasn't so relaxed that would have been almost erotic. He ignored my foot and started with my calf. His hands were big enough that they were not able to be on my calf at the same time. He continuously moved back and forth with his hands with his wonderful kneading motion. He moved up slowly and began working the back of my knee. Now honestly, when was the last time a therapist actively massaged the back of your knee. It felt so good. I had no idea how many nerve endings were there.

His hands moved up to the back of my thigh. Another deep breath and a sigh as both of his hands stretched and wrung out my muscles all at once. His hands were on both sides of my thigh, his fingers pointing toward the table. I half expected him to touch the delicate folds at the top of my leg as he went up. He didn't, though. His pressure was such that it went clear to the top of my leg, right into the crease. There were more surprise nerve endings there as his fingers lingered a bit before sliding up to the top of the thigh and trailing back down.

The up and down strokes lasted several minutes before more kneading, caressing, and eventually, pressure. He used his hands, fingers and even his arm to roll out my thigh as he did everywhere else so far. When he picked up my foot with one hand and pushed at the inside of my knee with the other, I was so relaxed that for the first time ever I didn't try to help. I was as limp as could possibly be. Was I going to be able to walk after this? The pressure on the inside of my knee, along with the grip on my ankle, pushed me into a position with my knee out as far as possible and my foot resting on the inside of the my other thigh.

I can imagine now how odd it would have been with anyone else doing this. I was totally exposed. He'd effectively opened my leg out wide. It was no surprise anymore that I just didn't care. I was cognizant enough to wonder why he did it but my question was answered immediately as I realized his was putting his elbow back in my butt cheek. WOW! What an amazing stretch. The muscle he found by opening my hips now hurts so good. I actually sucked in air with a loud gasp. He asked if I was alright again and I can't believe I moaned an affirmative. This time I forced myself to verbalize a response.

"It hurts so good." I told him. Again, I swear I felt him smile.

He didn't stay with his elbow in my muscle for long. As soon as he pulled away, he grabbed my ankle again and straightened my leg. My modesty, such as it was at that point, was no longer an issue. If that is the kind of relief possible from having no modest, I would forever reconsider my standards.

The other leg was next and he went through the exact same set of techniques. I knew for sure he was going to touch me this time as he went up this leg. I almost wanted him to. I realized I didn't care if he did. I knew at this point he could do whatever he wanted and I would be all for it.

But he didn't. Relative positioning aside, he didn't even come close to touching me. When his fingers were at the top of my inner thigh again, the pressure he was using pushed my skin more into my leg. He effectively dodged my most delicate area using pressure that I can't imagine wouldn't hurt in any other circumstance.

He finished my legs by standing at the foot of the table and using both hands to caress my legs up and down again. Yes, I said caressed. That is what he was doing. He was caressing my legs. What a wonderful thing to do after using so much pressure on them. If I didn't know any better I would have sworn this guy had female genes. He was touching me in every way a woman needs to be touched. I hadn't ever realized there was something missing from every other massage I've had in the last twenty something years. Caress. Another deep breath and a sigh.

I heard him ask me to turn over. Oh my God I have to move!? I took another deep breath as I prepared to do the unthinkable. I had to use my muscles to turn over.

One would think that I would still have some modesty. I was completely nude. I was completely uncovered. Yet, I just simply did not care anymore. I was so relaxed and feeling wonderful and it was all because of him. Oh thank you, Jacob!

On my back, my hands were at my sides and the pillow under my knees. I'm almost ready to fall asleep completely. That time he started with my thighs. His hands came together just above my knee and then did a version of the roller up my thigh. It actually hurt just a bit but just as he had proved many times already, he seemed to have known that. Instantly he began his circular kneading motions to sooth the little pain I had. He kneaded up the outside of my leg, then the center and then finally the inner thigh. Both of his hands were in my inner thigh. It felt sensational having that area massaged. How often does a massage therapist massage there? I am so hooked on Jacob. I must remember to buy Angela something as a thank you.

Once again I noticed him getting closer and closer to my center. But amazingly appropriate was he that he bumped it slightly but then moved on. He made no effort to actually try to touch me there. It's funny but I couldn't tell if I wanted him to or not. I knew I wasn't supposed to want him to. That's not the way massage is supposed to work. Is it? All I knew at the time was I was amazed he didn't go there.

That was when he moved to my other leg. I won't bore you with the details of the other leg suffice to say he did the exact same thing. The only slight difference is that in my relaxed state I eventually realized I'd opened my legs more. They were no longer straight but bent at the knee with the soles of my feet almost touching. Did he do that? He didn't do that. I would have remembered. Oh right, I don't care anymore. Jello mind and all that.

Jacob then grabbed my foot and pulled my leg straight. I almost straightened my other leg out of propriety but honestly, that would have required effort I didn't care to put forth. With one hand on the back of my heel, right below my ankle, the other hand was massaging the entirety of my foot with the thumb working the arch and the fingers the instep. It didn't feel caressed but rather stretched. He was actively working the foot over. It wasn't delicate but not painful either however, it was definitely purposeful and deliberate. He stretched the underside of my foot, crunched the tension in the pad under my toes, and squeezed my heel. It felt wonderful. I work too damn hard and my poor feet never get that kind of attention, even during my regular massage visits.

Then he moved to the caress. This man genuinely caressed my foot. He caressed the individual toes, the webbing between the toes, even the arch got some tender attention. When he moved to the other foot, I was in love with this massage. The wonderful combination of deep tissue massage and tender caresses. Part of my body wanted to liken it to something else but it's just a massage. Right?

He finished with my feet and did the same thing he did when finishing the back of my legs. He caressed them. He applied more oil along each leg and gently ran his hands up and down both legs. Up the outside, down the inside. Up the inside, down the outside. This time I was sure I felt his fingers brush against me. He hadn't until now. Was it deliberate? Was it my imagination? Did I want him to? Oh fuck it, yes I wanted him to. I wanted to feel that. The man just made love with my feet using his hands. That's exactly what it felt like and I wanted to feel it there, too!