Fantasy Massage 3

First/second person point of view warning!

*****

We had experienced sex weekends before, but this was to be different. It was not a 201 weekend, it wasn't an Atlanta weekend; in fact, it wasn't just a weekend. I was five days and five nights of Caribbean sun and fun.

As we arrive and unpack, I tell you that you should expect a few surprises along the way. It is late; tired and hungry, we make our way down to the beachfront restaurant. Our table looks over the beautiful water just in time to see the sun seemingly settle down into it. We order several appetizers for our meal and share a bottle of wine. We realize the week is not rushed, and it will be enjoyed more if we don't rush it.

We make it back to the room still tired, but full of sexual energy. We had abstained the week prior in order to make things more tense. The week was full of teases and near breakdowns. It worked—I am quickly becoming erect as we walk hand-in-hand back to the room anticipating the week. As we enter the room, you turn to me and begin kissing me—a hard kiss full of desire. I taste the wine on your lips and tongue. You move down to my ears and neck, causing a trembling in my legs. I find my way to your neck and leave a trail of kisses from just below your ear to just above your shoulder. I sense the energy turning to heat before I pull away.

"Not yet," I tell you. "We've waited a week, and I want to wait one more night. It will be worth it." I can't believe I stop. You can't believe I stop. "In fact," I continue, "I don't plan for us to be together until sometime tomorrow night."

"Well, that's not fair," you retort. "I may have to take care of myself if you don't...or find somebody around here who is willing."

"I'm sure that won't be hard to do as sexy as you're looking. If you decide to wait, and that includes no morning sex in the morning, it will be worth it...that's all I'm saying."

You come to bed with a short, sheer white gown on. I can easily see your breasts. The gown stops just below your matching panties. Through your panties I can see that you have made yourself completely bare. Normally when you come to bed you slip under the covers leaving me wishing I could see your body, but this time you lie on top of the covers teasingly showing me yourself. Your nipples are erect and pressing against the sheer material of your gown. I turn to kiss you and begin tracing a finger around your nipple through the fabric.

"Does this mean you're going to give in," you ask.

"Not at all," I answer surprising even myself.

"No touching then...goodnight."

You get under the covers and turn away. I try to cuddle you, but you won't have it...exhausted from the day, we quickly fall asleep.

"Not yet!" I awaken to a hand in my boxers. I am hard and throbbing. I nearly cum before grabbing your hand and pushing it away.

"But I'm horny." You begin slowly moving against my leg. "Don't you want to be inside me...don't you want to fuck me?" You try to pull me on top of you. "Roll over and fuck me!"

"Listen," I reply. "I want nothing more than to do that; I would love to feel how wet you are; I would love to lift your legs in the air and slide it deep inside." I raise up on one elbow and look in your eyes. "But, I want your surprise to be right."

"You know I hate these kinds of surprises. What if it's something I don't like?"

"Just wait. Tonight after dinner, you and I will make love. I'm going to give you an orgasm that you won't forget, and the build-up-and the surprise—is part of what will make it so good."

You relent as we get ready to go to the pool.

You come out of the bathroom in the bikini you chose especially for this trip. It is easily the tiniest bikini you have ever owned, and you look incredible in it; your breasts are mostly exposed, with only a triangle covering the middle of each. A similar triangle covers you below; only the most intimate parts are covered. We had previously agreed to do things "the island way" on this trip, and the minimal clothing is part of the look. It is incredibly sexy.

We walk the few steps to the pool, and find our reserved chairs and towels. As soon as we are seated, attendants take our drinks orders and leave bowls of fruits and cheeses. Our drinks arrive as we finish applying tanning oil to our bodies. The drinks, the fruits, the oil, the water, the sun, and the bodies swimming, tanning, and touching create an uninhibited mood. We touch each other often and in ways we normally wouldn't of front of others—my firm, oiled hand glides up the inside of your tanned, oiled thigh, stopping just short of slipping a finger inside your swimsuit bottom. You pull your knees up slightly and open your legs to give me access to the place right where your leg meets your pelvis.

We feed each other fruit, unconcerned with the juices dripping on ours chests. You take my finger into your mouth as I place a slice of kiwi to your lips. The rest of the morning is spent reading, napping, and teasing. I am asleep as you decide you want lunch. You reach your leg over to my chair and place your foot firmly right below my waist. Your foot slides over my quickening erection. I wake up and you continue.

"Afternoon delight after lunch?" you ask.

The sight of your smooth, oiled, tanned leg, your slender ankle with a silver anklet contrasted against your tan, your polished toes rubbing back and forth over me, your voice full of desire and built-up frustration...these things nearly end my surprise.

"We can't," I say matter-of-factly. "I said you could take care of yourself if you wanted to; things just want be as fun."

"Do you promise we can tonight?" you ask pleadingly.

"After dinner, I promise. But there is much before that."

We go to our room and find a light lunch waiting for us. Lunch includes more alcohol, and the inhibitions continue to fall away.

"How would you feel if I went topless when we go back out?" you ask.

"I really think I will be ok with it. Everything is so beautiful around here, and you would fit right in," I reply. "I'm fine with it."

Fresh towels, fruit, and drinks have magically appeared at our chairs while we were gone. We get to ours chairs around 1:30 in the afternoon. We reapply and you begin reading.

"Are you going to take it off" I ask.

"I will in a few minutes; I think." you answer.

"Mr. and Mrs. Gilmer? Would you come with me, please?" A pretty, young blonde girl approaches, her accent that of an American. You look at me, worried.

"Don't worry. We have an appointment," I assure you.

We follow the blonde as she leads us through a maze of topless women and tanned fit men.

"Is this the surprise?" you ask.

"It is." I answer.

"What is it?"

"I know you don't like surprises, but this will be fun. You will know in a minute," I answer attempting to hide my nervousness.

We reach the beach and are led to an open cabana. The canvas walls are pulled back on all four sides. Inside the cabana are two massage tables spaced closely allowing one person to walk between them. We hear soothing music, a unique mix of island and soft jazz. The smell is even more "beachy" as candles and incense burn. A fan turns overhead.

"Please have a seat on the tables. Your therapists will be with you within 30 seconds," the blonde instructs us.

You are smiling at the thought of a massage on the beach and thanking me when two people arrive. They take turns speaking.

"I am Andre" the young man says.

"And I'm Clova...we are your couple's massage therapists," the female adds.

Both are beautifully dark and their bodies firm. They are seemingly native to the region and speak as if they are also. They are dressed in white. She in a long, flowing cotton dress, and he in loose-fitting cotton pants. He is shirtless.

"You have agreed to the type of massage you will be receiving today," Andre says. "You cannot add to the services once we begin. You can ask that the agreed-to services not be completed, but you can't add. Are you understanding of that?"

"We are," I answer.

You sit not knowing how to answer.

"We will return in approximately five minutes." Clova continues. "Please ready yourselves for your massage. You may leave on as much or as little clothing as you wish. We are comfortable with any state of clothing or lack of clothing."

Before they leave, they work together to release the tied-back walls. The room is now secluded, and only the sounds and smells of the Caribbean remain.

"O.K., what's going on?" you ask. "I need to know."

"It really is nothing much more than a massage," I assure you. "Just an exotic massage in an exotic setting. They have agreed-to boundaries. Now I really think we should do this with no clothes on," I add. "A special setting for a new experience."

"Are you?" you ask."

"Yes," I answer, surprised at the ease with which I concede.

"Are you sure it's ok?" you press.

"Yes, they'll be here in a minute."

I don't take my eyes off of you as you strip. Your body is beautiful: your breasts perfect and still pert even past forty. They are full due to your continuing and increasing arousal, your nipples hard from the breeze inside the cabana. Your back is long and tan, a beautiful form. Your sexy bottom faces me as you bend over to remove your bottoms. They slide down your toned legs. As you bend your cheeks slightly spread, and I see the ending of your slit, your lips slightly swollen and slightly open. In my mind, I grab you from behind and force you onto the table, leaving your ass just hanging off. I move in between your legs and plunge into you not waiting to ease it in...in my mind. You turn and sit on the table. Your maneuvering causes your legs to open and I see the wetness starting to form. Yours is such a sweet sight—perfectly formed, beautiful and proportionate lips. You lie down flat on your back. For an instant before pulling the sheet up, I glimpse it again. This time from the side I can see the beautiful mound of bare flesh. You cover yourself and turn over onto your front. I get under the sheet and do the same thing.

"What exactly can he do?" you ask.

"How do you know it's him and not her?" I tease.

"Because you would never let a man massage you."

"Your right about that...he, and she, have to keep their clothes on. They can massage everywhere except for my, and your, genitalia, as the agreement worded it. Exactly where that ends and begins I don't know."

Our therapists enter without you having a chance to respond.

Our pair comes in and, in synch and with almost military-like precision, begins folding, moving, and tucking sheets. Andre looks as if he has oiled his entire upper body. As Clova moves within my sight, I notice she is not wearing a bra under her thin, long dress. At certain angles, nothing is left to my imagination. I hadn't noticed earlier. I wonder to myself what is going through your mind. We are both covered up to our necks. The sheets are thick and warm. They have moved our arms to our sides. I am lying on a semi-erection. It feels thick beneath me. I imagine you getting wetter and wetter between your legs with anticipation. The thought brings my erection to fullness.

Ready now, they begin gently but firmly massaging our necks. Our heads are turned to each other. Your eyes are closed, and I watch you. I can tell that Clova's belly in on level with my head. Andre's crotch, him being taller, is level with your head. The strokes go under the sheets, down our back, stopping just above our bottoms and up again. At the same time, they pull the sheets down to the smalls of our backs giving them full access to our backs. Our arms are moved up to that they cross in front of us. I watch as he goes firmly down your bare back and up the sides, slightly touching the sides of your breasts. His return stroke becomes firmer, and more of your breasts are included in the massage. Still, he touches only the exposed side. You seem relaxed and comfortable.

Soon they move to our right sides. Andrea is in the space between the tables. They both reposition the sheets so that our backs are again covered. Carefully, and again at the same time, they reach beneath the sheets and begin a firm massage on our bottoms. We are fully covered, as they lengthen the stroke from the right side and down the right thigh. As they progress, they move closer to the inside of the thigh and into the valley between the cheeks of our bottoms. I wonder how far Andre is going into that valley. It hits me as I feel Clova's hand swipe down and caress right over my pucker that you are receiving the same treatment. I look for a reaction. Your breathing increases slightly. Surprisingly, she stays far from getting close to my privates, and I assume he is avoiding yours as well.

As they move down our legs to our calves and feet, I relish the tender massage. They move to the other side beginning low and moving up. Again they avoid any closeness to the middle, but spend a good amount of time on the upper thigh and left cheek. As I think they are finished with that portion. I see Andrea and feel Clova position their hands at the top of our bottoms. As they spend more time there, you open your eyes and you see me watching you. We are still in a gaze when their fingers slide down into the valleys. With pressure, they rub up and down the entire length, slowing and applying more pressure as they reach the hole. They are careful not to penetrate, but the feeling is erotic and your eyes close again. You lick your lips, and bite them before a deep breath relaxes you.

We are fully covered again as they request us to turn over. I become anxious about the rest of the massage. As we turn over, I apologize to Clova for my erection. She assures me it is fine and that is expected and even a desired effect of the massage. We receive our face and neck massage.

Without warning, they proceed to the sides of their tables and lift extensions on either side of right about where our stomachs are. They move stools to their respective tables. They simultaneously step on top of the stools and onto the extensions and straddle us. The extensions allow them to be over us without putting pressure on us. They pull the sheets down from our necks and tuck them underneath where they are over us.

For the first time, your breasts are in full view. In my mind I walk over to your table and take them into my mouth, squeezing them roughly and gently biting the nipples before...in my mind. In reality, hands are on our shoulders and move down to our sides and across our bellies just where they sit. I can't take my eyes off of your breasts moving in unison with Andre's strokes up and down your sides. His chest is oiled as are his arms as he puts more and more of his arms into the strokes.

I turn my head to see Clova doing the same thing. Her dress is loose on top and I can see down it as she leans forward. Her breasts are smaller. Her areolas are big and dark as are her nipples. Her dress is picking up the oil from my chest as she practically lies on me as she leans into me. I look to see if you are getting the same treatment. Andrea leans forward rubbing his entire chest across yours, your breast crushed under his weight, your nipples stimulated by the rubbing. The thrusting across ours chests escalates to the rhythm of a good long fuck before it slows to them sitting again with just their hands on us. Their hands move to our chests again, but this time they do not avoid the breasts. Andre takes one of your breasts in both hands and massages it, kneading it and gently rolling your nipples between his fingers before moving to the other. Clova spends this time squeezing and pinching my nipples. Her dress is oily now and her dark nipples are visible through the fabric.

As they complete the upper half of our bodies, they simply turn around on the extensions. They face our feet. They begin a similar process with our legs, seemingly rubbing their bodies all over us. I become aware that neither of them is wearing underwear. Andre's balls are outlined as he bends down to massage your feet, and the light shines right through Clova's dress. The lower half massage provides a much needed break from the sensual and sexual tension. We look at each other and laugh at the situation.

Suddenly they are sitting up nearly straight. The massage is now focusing on the inside of our thighs.

Clova's hands expertly come incredibly close to my balls, I feel precum sliding off of my head and onto my stomach. Andre's hands rub all around you; he massages the outside of your sex, careful not to touch the pink of the inside. The rubbing back and forth creates a friction on your clit. It pulses with desire for release. Your eyes are closed and you begin rocking your pelvis slowly. I wish I could see all of it.

My mind is momentarily taken away from you as Clova reaches around under my sac and, with pressure, rubs the tender spots between by balls and pucker. I begin rocking too. Your breathing intensifies. We are moving in unison, each desiring a push over the edge.

I look at you and want to share the moment with you.

"Look at me, baby," I whisper.

You turn toward me with glazed lust in your eyes. I reach out to you, and you place your hand in mine. Your bottom is off the table now, your pussy reaching for further touch. With your ass in the air, Andre traces his finger down between your cheeks and firmly massages your hole, careful not to enter.

Still looking at me, you whisper, "I want to cum so bad, come fuck me."

I breathe in your desire and your lust.

The massages begin slowing and moving away from the most sensitive areas. Andrea and Clova climb down off of their perches and cover us completely. They thank us and point to a table with water and juices.

Andre concludes, "We hope you will schedule another session with us before leaving the island—maybe you could take advantage of the next level massage."

Clova nods a goodbye and they are gone.

You lie speechless. I get off of my table and cross to you, my half erection slowly fading, still dripping. I kiss you tenderly. You respond with your hands around the back of my head, pulling me in hard.

"We've got to go" I say, "there's another appointment scheduled soon..."

You rise and momentarily seem too weak to stand. You pull on your tiny bikini bottoms as I hand you a robe provided by the spa. My shorts are on. Before you can put on your top, I slip the robe over you and take your hand toward the path back to our room. Your robe is on but open—your exposed breasts still full. We walk quietly past the familiar site of bodies in different states of dress and passion. I wonder to myself how I can dissuade you from having sex when we get back to the room. I want nothing more than to taste you and bring you to orgasm before entering you and cumming hard inside of you, but I want the surprise tocontinue and the tension to increase. It is approximately 5:30, and we have dinner reservations at seven.

We get to the room, and I suggest you have a shower first.

Finally I tell you, "I know we both want it bad right now, but if we can just wait, I have more of a surprise."

"So was part of the surprise to leave me hanging back there?" you ask. "I mean really, you'll go that far but not let anything else happen? Wimp." You are only half kidding.

"I think I can make up for it if you just wait...it's a big shower; I'll join you if you think we can hold off."

"Whatever, wimp!" you shoot back, continuing to bait me.

The shower is large with several shower heads. We caress and kiss, but the hotness of the shower seems to lessen the immediate desire. I enjoy caressing your body, soaping every inch. I step out of the shower as you finish shaving.

Soon you appear from the shower and let your robe fall off of you, continuing the tease. As you are getting ready, you take out a dress you bought for the week. It is a baby blue linen dress with buttons all the way up the front. It comes just above your knees. As agreed, I pick out your panties for the night.