I can't believe it's actually happening.
The words echo in your mind, your throat constricting with the anxiety coursing through you as you follow me through the door of the hotel I've rented for my stay. Once you're through the door, I step around you to shut it, only after placing the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the outer doorknob.
We both turn to face each other, encountering a moment of silence.
My ever-familiar grin splits across my face as I belatedly greet you with a "Hai."
The slightly awkward situation evinces a small giggle from you, and you return the greeting in kind.
Your breath catches and you catch yourself backing up a step as I suddenly stride over towards you. Undeterred by your display of visible uncertainty, I close the gap between us with a full-bodied hug; one arm low on your back, the other in the hair on the back of your head. You feel the grip of my upper hand strengthen as my head moves next to yours.
"Miss Jo..." I whisper. "I'm going to ... give you that massage I promised." I pull back and give you my cheesy grin, knowing full well that you were expecting that statement to contain an entirely different message.
My hands on your hips, I start to guide you backwards until you feel the lax resilience of the bed at the bend of your knees. You let yourself backwards to lay on the bed, but the guiding pressure resists, keeping you seated upright on the crisp, white sheets.
Kneeling in front of you, my hands raise from your hips, catching the lower edge of your shirt and lifting it upwards. Still hesitant about what you're doing, you don't move to help me.
"Arms. Up." Firm, and matter-of-fact, the simple command is all that's needed for you to comply. Shortly thereafter, you find yourself laying chest-down on the bed, head faced off to the side, resting on a pillow. The feel of the cool sheets against your bared nipples is exhilirating, as is knowing that the pressure on both sides of your hips is me.
You can't help but marvel at how easily you can let your resistances melt to this person you've only seen for the first time today. Can you trust me? Should you? Your heart starts to pulse more quickly as the questions dart through your mind.
You're distracted by the clinking of glass, followed soon after by the scent of lavender. Oooh... Real massage oil. You hadn't been expecting that one.
Finally the first contact comes. The oil, slightly cool due to its liquid state, isn't too far below room temperature, and it warms quickly as my hands work it into your skin. The weight shifts on the bed, and you feel one of my knees lifting.
"Pull your hair off your neck." I urge, and you comply with your newly-freed hand, sliding it back down to your side once the task is completed.
The weight on the bed equalizes as I settle my knee back down, leaning over your back as I spread my fingers to work at your neck, shoulders, and upper back simultaneously on both sides of your body. The circular kneading motion begins to ebb the tension from your muscles
After what seems to be a painfully short time, due to your half-awake state, you find that I've worked all the way down your back, and now things are getting more racy. You feel my hands working around, underneath your abdomen and picking at the button on the tight, ass- hugging jeans that you're so proud to wear. The button undone, the zipper follows, and my hands begin to part from underneath you, fingers hooking the open front of your pants as they spread.
Slowly, with no aid demanded or given, the fabric is peeled off of your body. You smile to into the pillow as you hear my breath catch when I see that you've worn my favorite panties. Stopping their current assignment, my hands move to your delectable butt to rub over the gorgeous swell of your lace-covered cheeks before resuming their task.
