Just One of Those ‘things’ 02

The first part of this story was in 'exhibitionist-voyeur'. However, in the continuation things move to a new level of 'erotic couplings' involving interracial and first time. All the characters in this story are over eighteen.

It was four fifteen and Gloria, one of my regular clients, was about to pull out her wallet to pay for her massage, when she paused and said she just needed to pop to the washroom.

"No problem. I'll just go and make up the room for my last appointment."

I was nervous and excited at the thought that Devlin would soon walk through the door. When I finished, Gloria was just coming back and reaching in her purse for her wallet. I handed her the invoice; she always pays cash. At that moment Devlin arrived. He was wearing shorts and a red T-shirt. The weather was so much nicer than it had been two weeks ago.

"Go ahead, the room's ready, Devlin," I said, as I stamped Gloria's invoice as paid. He smiled at us as he went in.

As the door shut Gloria said, "What a hunk! I could enjoy running my hands over that, but I suppose I shouldn't say that."

Gloria is in her early forties and married. She tends to over-confide telling me about the more intimate details of their life together. She looks after herself and clearly has an active libido, if I believe what she says, which I tend to, so I was not surprised at her remark. I'm not suggesting she plays outside the lines, but I do know she fantasizes because she's told me a few of them. I'm sure she is straight, but I can tell that she sometimes gets aroused by my massage. Perhaps she's imagining someone like Devlin is the masseur. That's not that unusual. However, if that is the case, she doesn't share those thoughts, thank goodness! There is such a thing as too much information.

I smiled as I locked the drawer but did not say anything. She winked and left. I don't know what her vivid imagination might be thinking. When I entered the room Devlin was lying face down naked with his head resting on the table.

"Do you mind if I don't use the cradle?"

"No whatever makes you comfortable," I said, picking up a fresh blanket and positioning it over him, "Anything special that needs attention?"

"Same as last time would be great."

And that's what I did starting with his shoulders. It wasn't until I was working on his feet and ankles that I sensed a tension in his body which only grew as I worked up his legs to his glutes. I was therefore not surprised to see his state of arousal when he turned over. As I have said before, it is a perfectly natural response, and I imagine it's probably more likely if you are blessed in that department. I mean it's trapped between the table and your body and I'm applying downward pressure in my massage. Generally, both client and practitioner are quite aware that any comment would be inappropriate, but you can't help but notice.

As last time I was aware that various elements of the massage lessened or revived his arousal, and I made a focused effort to keep him well draped. However, the blanket slipped to his knees as I was working on his left quads and his erect penis rose from his stomach taunting me. I won't describe its effect on me other than that when I finished and was ready to move to his head, I unforgivably failed to reposition the blanket.

The whole time I worked on his forehead and ears I watched its reaction to each of part of the massage. I told myself it was a learning experience but that was only half the truth. Finally, before I left the room, I moved beside the table to reposition the blanket. Before I knew what I was doing my hand pressed down on it as I lifted the blanket back in place. I definitely should not have done that. How could I have done that?

I was mortified. What was he thinking? Should I say something? No, I couldn't. Is it possible he didn't realize? Hardly. All these thoughts were pouring through my head as he emerged fully dressed from the room. I couldn't stop myself blushing deeply. Some people think black people can't blush, but our blood suffuses the veins in our face just like everyone else and I knew he noticed. Then I realized I hadn't even printed out his invoice and became even more embarrassed. The truth was I could not even make eye contact.

I realized he was holding out his debit card. Pulling myself together, I gave him the machine as I printed the invoice.

"Can I book another appointment?" He asked handing me back the machine. I took it and opened the book.

"Thursday or Friday?" I asked.

"Friday is fine."

I wrote in the book, "Friday at four thirty with Janice," I said, trying to smile.

He looked a little disappointed but said, "OK then, and thanks for today."

After he left, I quickly started closing up. I went into the room to tidy everything. As I removed the sheets and binned them, I had a sudden recollection of the feel of his fully erect penis. The skin somehow felt softer than Hector's and yet it was steely hard and so thick. I tried to put the thought away but remembered how I had kept looking at his uncovered penis while I worked on him. I felt ashamed and guilty and worst of all horribly aroused. I could feel how moist I was.

Minutes later I locked up and left. I was just starting to walk home when I felt a hand on my arm. It was Devlin.

"Bev, would you like to come for a drink?"

"Thank you for the invitation but I can't accept. No socializing with a client."

He frowned and was silent for a moment then he smiled.

"I'm no longer a client of yours. My next appointment is with Janice."

He had a point, a very technical one to be sure but the fact is I wanted to learn more about him. We had hardly talked during either massage.

"I should probably say 'no', but if you are going to stick with Janice, I guess I can say 'yes, I'd like that.' Where do you suggest?"

There's a wine bar across the road, but I'm not sure I'm dressed for that. There's a pub a block further down or I have wine in my apartment, that's close too, just round the corner and one block over."

"I think the pub sounds best for now." I wasn't sure I trusted him or myself if I went to his apartment and I did not want to send the wrong signals.

So, the pub it was. Twenty minutes later with a beer for him and a glass of red for me, we were exchanging information about ourselves. He grew up in a little town in Saskachewan and had just graduated from U of T with a degree in anatomy and physiology. Initially thinking of physiotherapy, he had just been accepted into taking his Masters in Physical Therapy. However, his ultimate goal now was sports medicine and more years of study. No wonder he knew about muscle groups.

After telling him more about myself and my upbringing he asked if I had a boyfriend and I admitted I was early in a new relationship. In response he told me he was not in a current relationship and hoped he and I could be in one. I now felt I needed to be extremely careful but, in a moment of true confession, told him I had been completely unprofessional in not properly covering him and worse still touching him as I repositioned the blanket.

He laughed then apologised as he knew I genuinely regretted crossing boundaries.

"I shouldn't worry. Janice is quite casual about draping me and often gives me a little 'handshake' if I'm aroused, which I usually am after a good massage." He used air quotes around 'handshake' and seeing my reaction, quickly clarified, "I'm not saying a so called 'happy ending', literally just a friendly squeeze.

I was still shocked. I knew she was more easy-going than me, but still.

"She doesn't mean anything by it. It started more than a year ago almost as an accident."

He was laughing and I realized it did not bother him. By then I realized I was quite hungry, and we ordered some food with our next round of drinks.

"Talking of accidents and such, I saw your hand hovering over me at the end of our first massage."

I suspected he had seen that and decided to confess all.

"I haven't seen many penises and yours is rather special," I knew I was blushing, but I kept going, "My proper boyfriends have all been black. I did give a few hand jobs on dates in college, no more than five I think, four white guys and one Asian. So, your penis surprised me...especially I mean for a white guy." I was blushing even more now, making a complete hash of this with racial comments, "It's bigger than all the others." I tried to stop rambling. Forget racism, I felt I was making myself sound like a sex-mad slut.

"Well, if it's true confession time," he said keeping his voice low as I had, "I'm a twenty-four-year-old virgin."

I looked at him.

"Yes, really. I went to an all-boys school, and I have never been very comfortable around girls. I get tongue-tied and I have anxiety about the size of my penis. In the showers after sports the other boys always made such a big thing of it, calling me 'freak'."

He had suddenly become really emotional, and I realized that he was actually telling the truth.

"It was a big deal for me to have a massage with Janice when I realized she did not care if I was naked. She said a lot of her clients, men and women, prefer being naked. It took all my courage that first time, as nobody but a nurse had ever seen me naked, by nobody I mean a woman. Obviously, she had no idea what size I was.

Janice was so matter of fact. She gave me a great massage. She always draped me and if she saw me, she certainly never said anything. Now I'm going to really embarrass myself. You know that accident I mentioned. It was on about my fourth or fifth massage. She was working on my glutes when suddenly I was more than aroused and I came, I ejaculated as I was lying there.

For a moment I wasn't going to say anything, but I could tell it was a lot and so I told her. She said she sensed I had come and thanked me for telling her. I was so embarrassed, ashamed actually, but she said it was quite normal, not usual, but normal and I shouldn't worry about it. She had tissues and helped wipe me. I was upset, almost crying. She changed the sheets and got on with the massage.

That was the first time she touched me. It didn't happen again but at the end of each massage she would touch it and say, 'there's a good boy!' It's just a joke between us and her way of saying I don't need to feel anxious."

That sort of explained her behaviour, an interesting way of keeping her client reassured I suppose. I wasn't going to ask her about it unless she brought it up.

Wow! If I thought Gloria overshared...but then, wasn't I the one who had started it?

"She's right. It does happen, just not that often." I thought back to how I wondered if he was going to explode on the first massage.

"Do you want to come over for a glass of wine now?" he asked as we finished and paid the bill.

"Maybe not today, I live nearby too why don't you walk me home if you are close."

We set off to my place and as we turned the next corner and I pointed to my building, he laughed.

"My place is there," and he pointed to the building directly across from mine.

"Come have that drink, and I'll walk you home after." We both laughed.

His apartment was about the same size as mine, but he was on the third floor while I was on the second. I looked out of his sitting room window as he poured the wine. I was looking down right into my own sitting room, but I did not say anything. My bedroom window was right next to it, whereas as I discovered his bedroom looked across at the next building along on the same side. He handed me a glass and we clinked and sipped.

As I sat down on the sofa, I rolled my shoulders and said, "Good to get the kinks out."

"I can help with that," he said, "I may not be registered but I certainly understand massage." He moved behind me and began to press into my shoulders around my neck. I could feel the knots as he released them with just the right amount of pressure.

"I don't have a table, but you can lie on my bed if you like."

I gave him a look as I sipped my wine.

"Just a massage, as much as you want."

"Give me a minute to enjoy this," I said, holding up the glass, "it's better than the one in the pub. You can continue on my shoulders for now, but also take time to enjoy your wine."

He did as he was told, until we had both finished our wine and then I said, "I need to use your bathroom."

"Of course, it's through there."

I went in and was surprised. Although his apartment was much like mine his bathroom was much nicer. If I want to shower, I have to stand in the bath, but he had a separate shower stall with both a rain head and a hand shower.

When I had washed my hands I opened the door and said, "What I really need right now is a shower. Can I use yours?"

"Go ahead. I have towels."

"Thank you!" I hesitated before saying, "You could probably use one too."

"Are you saying you would like company?"

"It looks big enough, and I've already seen you naked," I said, as I came back into the sitting room.

"You can use the bedroom to change."

"No worries," I said pulling my top over my head and folding it on the arm of the sofa. As I undid the clasp on my bra, he pulled off his t-shirt and began unbuckling his belt. It began a race to see who could get naked first. I won but only just. It might have been a tie if he hadn't stopped for a moment to watch me slide my panties down and lift them off my feet. It wasn't hard to see he was as aroused as I was, but I did not say anything, just turned and headed back into the bathroom. I stood to one side as he leaned in and turned on the rain head.

"Is that all right or would you prefer the hand-held?"

"No, it's fine."

He stood aside to let me enter first and then came in behind me. It wasn't a huge space but big enough that we were not pressed together. I stood with my back to him and picked up a sponge. I handed it back over my head, saying, "As you're back there you might as well wash my back."

"Gladly," he said.

When he finished, I turned to face him. "Turn around and I'll do your back. Keep the sponge, I see there's a shower brush."

As I finished, I said, "You can turn around now."

As soon as he did I applied the shower brush to his chest and scrubbed it. When I stopped I put it down and squeezing more soap on my hands I reached for his penis. It very quickly became fully erect, and he moved towards me.

"Not so fast. Aren't you going to do my front?"

He grinned and soaping the sponge began to do my entire front although he spent more time on my breasts and groin area.

"Thank you, that's enough. I think we should dry off and you can resume your massage on the bed as you suggested."

I quickly towelled dry and walked through the sitting room to the bedroom. He followed a moment later. Like me he had not stopped to put anything on. I lay face down on the bed and he lay down beside me.

"That's not a massage," I said.

"Sorry." He got up and came back with some body lotion. He began to work on my shoulders again. Next, he let his hand brush lightly in feathering motions over my entire back from my neck to my toes. He repeated this several times. It didn't tickle but it did set every pore tingling. He then began to massage my feet and calves thoroughly. The main areas of stress that giving massages generates are the back and the legs, particularly the feet and ankles, as you are standing and somewhat bent over all day.

After working on glutes he moved to my quads and I spread my legs slightly to see if he would work the inside of my thighs. He moved back to my knees and for a moment rubbed the backs to release any fluid built up there then he worked up the inside of my thigh until he brushed my lips. He must have felt the wetness there for he rubbed gently before sliding a finger and then two into me.

"Turn over, please," he said as he removed them. I wanted more. He had barely started, but I did as he asked. I was now lying naked and open before him, and my eyes fixed on his erect penis. He spread my legs. I was ready for him. Instead, he knelt and pulling me until my legs fell off the edge of the bed, he began to lightly kiss my vulva and then run his tongue around my clitoris. As he repeated this, I once again felt his fingers enter me, one, two, three.

As he continued, he varied his licking on my clit from vigorous to delicate, while his fingering also changed from almost motionless to fast thrusting, but I think he deliberately did not synchronize the two actions. Every now and then he would stop and lightly suck on it. It was way beyond what anyone had done for me before.

"I've dreamed of doing this," he said, lifting his head before burying his nose in my vagina.

"You've seriously never done this before?"

"I've never massaged a girl fully naked before or had one lying on my bed." He replied once more withdrawing his head.

"So, you probably think I'm an easy slut," I said, speaking out loud my unfiltered fear.

"No, I think you are beautiful. I was blown away when I first saw you. It was all I could do not to come when I had that first massage. I had an out of body moment when I seemed to be watching your hands travelling across my naked body. You can't imagine how erotic that was."

As he said this, I found myself having the same kind of experience looking down on his crouching naked form between my visibly aroused labia and gaping hole, the exposed redness contrasting with my deep purple-black skin. He rose to his feet and with one hand beneath my butt and the other under my shoulder he gently lifted me back up the bed before climbing between my legs.

I was so wound up my orgasm hit as soon as the head of his penis entered. He was thick and I felt the adjustment as he found his way into me. He moved very slowly as I was spasming with every millimetre. He must have felt me. My orgasms did not really stop until he was fully sheathed and lay still on top of me. His chest on my flaring nipples. Sensing this he raised himself of his forearms and let his hands play with them while remaining motionless within me.

My nipples are very sensitive I have masturbated myself to orgasm just by playing with them and the waves of pleasure started again. That's when he extended his arms and pushed against me raising my butt as his thighs rose and he lifted his entire body balanced between his feet and extended arms. That's when he truly started to fuck me.

Neither of my previous lovers had ever been this athletic. It was a totally new feeling and not just because of his extra length and girth. His angle above me meant every millimetre of our respective parts was in contact as he plunged down into me, sometimes fiercely sometimes gently. I bent my legs and lifted myself to meet his thrusts. As I came yet again, I felt him come deep inside me.

We lay together panting from the exertion. He was still within me, and I felt him shrinking as I ran my fingers through his hair. Neither of us said a word. I sensed his heartbeat slow as I began to stroke the sides of his brow. I slowly began to massage his ears and earlobes. Then he raised his face to mine and kissed me gently. I opened my mouth and his tongue probed. Suddenly I realized he was hard again and without breaking the kiss he began to move in and out, no urgency, just gentle pleasure.

I could not believe how ready I still was. As he continued, I felt those familiar stirrings grow until I was anxious for him to go faster and harder. Finally, I shouted, "Fuck me like you mean it," but he just continued to slide quietly back and forth, sometimes rocking his hips to provide more sideways movement.

"Be patient," he whispered in contrast to my yell, "it's my first time and I am enjoying, experimenting and learning."

I kept forgetting he said he was a virgin. He knew so much about anatomy, trigger points and the human body. In the end I came anyway just not as powerfully and them he galloped to a triumphant finish. He withdrew and dropped between my legs and began to lick the cum from my cunt. He brought his mouth to mine and shared as our tongues swished it around.