Being a masseuse had its benefits.
Seducing a young attractive woman on the massage table, through nothing more than the power of my hands, was a sexual thrill hard to match. Over the years I had discovered that I could bring even the most innocent woman to such a state thatâdespite herselfâshe was practically gagging for it.
I had to be careful, of course. Test the water as I went along. One wrong step would be the end of my career, not to mention the potential charge of sexual assault that could follow. But I prided myself on having it pretty much sussed out. As each massage progressed, I could sense who was up for it and who wasn't.
And I neverâeverâcrossed the line without being one hundred per cent certain.
We were all at it, of course. The guys I worked with were, like me, Massage Therapists at one of London's biggest chain of health clubs. Our clients ranged from younger to older women, thin women to those with a fuller figure, wealthy married women to everyday but stunning young beauties.
The difference between me and the other masseuses was summed up by one thing. Age. They were young bucks who ... yes ... boasted huge stamina and had muscular bodies to match.
Me? I was nearing retirement age. But that was an advantage, not a drawback. It gave me the one thing they didn't have. Experience! And my encounters with women on the massage tableâand beyondâhad proven beyond doubt that experience counted for so much these days.
Today was going to be an extra special day. I realised that as soon as I peeked out through the blinds at the next client waiting in the reception area. All my Christmases had come at once.
She flicked a hand through her short blonde hair as I watched, her expressive blue eyes taking in everything that was going on around her. God, she was fit. Her tight fitting dress showed plenty of delectable thigh as she crossed and uncrossed those long tanned legs and her tits were simply straining against the pink material.
What was going to make the encounter even more interesting was that I knew her. We weren't friends or anything of that nature, but we had exchanged a few friendly words from time to time at the local pub we both frequented. I wondered if that familiarity would count against me. How would she feel about a massage from someone familiar to her?
Whatever her objectionâshould it comeâI instantly knew I'd find a way to overcome it. This prize was too great to let go.
As I watched her shuffle delectably on the chair, I went through my filing cabinet of a brain to regurgitate what I remembered of her. Her name was Sammi Cannock and the stunning, sexy, larger than life character was in her mid twenties. She used to attend college and rumour had it that she was fucking one of her professors, an older guy.
That augured well...
But I was pretty sure she had moved on from college to work. Wasn't she with a marketing agency now? Then there was the part time photographic modelling work she was involved in. That was no surprise as she was an attractive girl, more beautiful than she realised, with a red-hot body.
Okay, she pissed off a few of the guys in the pub with her attitudeâshe didn't suffer fools gladly and would put down any guy who got out of line with a single, sarcastic throwaway comment.
I had always liked that quality. Sassy women had always been my thing.
I took a deep breath as I glanced at the clock and turned away from the window. Before I headed for the door, I adjusted my cock inside my trousers. It was already reacting to the anticipation growing inside my body. This was going to be fun...
*
The way Sammi's eyes did a double take confirmed that she recognised me. For my part I made no acknowledgement of the fact and gave her a beaming smile and a friendly shake of her hand. Before she had any opportunity to objectâI wasn't taking any chancesâI turned on my heels and led the way to the massage room.
"Okay, Sammi," I said once we were inside. I smiled again but kept my voice business-like as I glanced at my notes. "It's good to see you again. You're booked in for an hour, I see, so why don't we get started? I don't want to waste any of your time."
She nodded at me. That was good. First hurdle overcome.
"It's a full body massage you're booked in for," I continued. "Are there any areas you'd especially like me to focus on?"
"My back's a little tight," she said, staring at me with those deliciously blue eyes. My shoulders, too."
She touched them with her hands and then dropped them downwards to her legs.
"And my thighs need attention. Is that okay?"
"Of course," I cheerily responded. "Just put yourself in my hands, Sammi. I'm the most experienced of the masseuse's here and it's my job to make this as enjoyable and as beneficial as possible."
"Okay..."
I smiled at her again, meeting her gaze. That was one of the things with Sammi. She had the most wonderfully expressive blue eyes. It was well known from conversations in the pub that she could either cut you off at the knees with one of her looks or seem to invite you to fuck her.
They open stare she gave me was somewhere in between the two and frustratingly I couldn't quite gauge her mood.
"Okay," I continued, firmly meeting that look. "I need to pop back to the office briefly. Why don't you get undressed and lie on the table. You can pull that top sheet over you when you're naked..."
"You want me naked?"
Her right eyebrow rose fractionally to emphasise the double-entendre. I smiled. That was another of Sammi's characteristics. I'd seen guys dumfounded at the pub as they tried to work out whether or not she was coming on to them. She loved that game.
"I most definitely want you naked, Sammi," I calmly said.
And how! My cock was lengthening again.
"You can keep your panties on if you're shy," I continued. "Whatever makes you feel the most comfortable. I'll be back in a couple of minutes."
With that, I shot her another reassuring smile and left the room before she noticed my erection. The thought of having my hands all over the delectable Sammi Cannock's bodyâand white might followâwas inevitably starting to get to me.