It started innocently enough - as stories of serendipitous sex often do - and I must confess to not having any idea that the day would turn out as it did - but perhaps I should fill you in a little before launching off on to my adventure with the Southern Belle.
As hot and steamy is the South is, things are much more prim and proper than one might expect - at least to the outsider, which as a "Southern transplant" for only five years - I still was. "Damn Yankee" many might say in fun(?) but I was fitting in well as someone who went with the flow and respected my adopted state in the old Confederacy.
Betsy was a proper Southern Belle. Never brash or loud, always restrained and demure. She was rarely seen without a hat and even when she was carrying a piglet in her arms, her hair was magnificent. I couldn't even guess how old the woman was - and asking would be inexcusable. For the sake of argument, I'd say she was a very well-maintained 65 years old. Tall and slim, 5'8" I'd guess, and in very good shape. She was a woman of many talents and a rancher's wife. (Yes, she was very married.)
I was attending an adult class on a new and interesting massage technique that centered on the use of essential oils to cure and treat a myriad of aliments. Three others and I were the students and Betsy was our instructor. Four volunteers were our guinea pigs for the massage class, but they were all good sports and most of them even enjoyed the free massage. Being a "new age" kind of technique, the essential oils were coupled with reflexology - where pressure applied to very specific locations on the soles of the feet was supposed to aid various organs and areas throughout the body. Skipping past the believability of this theory completely, we learned these locations and massage techniques and moved on to a massage of the spine from the base of the skull to the tailbone.
Betsy moved among the students observing, making suggestions, and often correcting the student's technique as they massaged their almost-all willing subjects. The smell of varied essential oils was heavy in the air and the low murmur of coaching, instructions and the occasional moan of pleasure(?) along with the classical music made for an interesting background noise. Betsy gave me a few pointers and complimented my technique a few times - though without ever saying anything one could construe as forward or suggestive.
As our massaged volunteers dressed and gathered their belongings, Betsy debriefed the students, complimenting and thanking them all for attending, and gently moved then towards the door. She seemed to be ignoring me as I gathered my supplies and packed up my things. "Bye, see you next time!" she called to them cheerfully as the last of them walked down the front walk to their waiting cars, and closed the door.
"Val" she asked, "I wonder if you would mind terribly doing me a huge favor."
"Sure, no problem, what can I help you with"? I asked, more than willing to be neighborly.
She blushed a tad and sheepishly said, "I run these classes all the time - showing people, teaching people, observing - but never getting a massage *myself*. Since you've got this all figured out, I was hoping you would be willing to massage my aching back - I've been on my feet entirely too much and I'm dying for a good massage. Bobby just isn't into this and I'm sure he'd be relieved if he didn't have to massage my back later today."
"Sure, I think I can manage that!" I smiled and said.
"Good, tell you what, you wait here and I'll get ready, I'll call you in when I'm on the table."
People being massaged are often largely naked, but draped with towels to preserve their modesty and keep them from getting chilled, so that Betsy would want to disrobe in private came as absolutely no surprise to me. When she called "I'm ready Val, you can come in" I was fully expecting what I saw - her lying face-down on the table covered with a towels from the nape of her neck to her knees. Her calves and feet were exposed.
I found her CD player and punched "Play" to get the relaxing music going. "You may as well get the full treatment - after all - this is what you taught us, right?"
"Yes" she said, "I'm glad you learned well."
I started by dripping the appropriate essential oils onto the soles of her feet and carefully massaging all of the reflexology point in our textbooks. My oily and fragrant fingers and thumbs worked over her feet for at least fifteen minutes and I was rewarded with the occasional "Ummm" or "that's good" as she relaxed under my ministrations. When I had covered every inch of both feet - some areas several times over -I announced that I would be moving to her spine. "Please, gawd yes" she moaned, "I'm so sore and fatigued".
Gingerly peeling the upper towel hack to expose he shoulders, I anointed my hands and started by massaging Betsy's neck, using firm pressure on either side of her spine starting at the base of her skill and moving down one vertebrae at a time. It really is amazing how you can feel tension in people's muscles and using gentle but firm pressure from your thumbs to massage this tension away. Betsy practically melted into the table as I slowly and methodically worked over her back muscles, then out over her shoulders, around her shoulder blades, and started down her thoracic vertebrae. "This is heaven" she purred as I gave her my full attention and dutifully eased every bit of tension from her back, the scent of peppermint and basil and sage filled the air along with Pachelbel's Canon in D softly played.
As the towel moved down, I saw more and more of her nakedness. Even though it was primarily "non-erotic" areas of her back, it was still new and exciting to be "undressing her". Her breasts were pressed between her body and the padded table, so I could really only see a modest round bulge from the side, even this gave me a bit of a thrill. Though my fingers trailed over her ribs as I worked from the spine outwards, I didn't dare allow them to come close to feeling her breasts - as much as I was tempted to do just that.
I have to admit that I was getting a little nervous and even embarrassed as I worked my way down her lumbar spine to her sacral vertebrae - as I was approaching the area where she had a towel wrapped around her waist. My fingers were starting to push against the towel and I was contemplating stopping entirely when she lifted her hips slightly, then reached back and loosened the towel without comment. It was when I saw her narrow waist swell to her slim hips that I started to feel a tingle of excitement and arousal and I started seeing this Southern Belle in a slightly different light. I pushed those thoughts from my mind though; as such fantasies were completely out of line.
"You have wonderfully strong hands Val" Betsy softly moaned as my thumbs rolled over her sacrum, and worked their way outward to her pelvic wings. My hands pushed the towel further down to the very top curve of her buttocks as I applied pressure with my thumbs to the muscles either side of her tailbone. I thought it was my imagination at first, but I was sure that I felt her pushing her hips up to meet the pressure of my hands. "Mmmmm, that's good, don't stop" she whispered as she gently rocked her hips up and increased the pressure against my hands. "Those muscles are so sore" she meekly whispered as my thumbs continued their downward circles, moving from the center out and back again rolling the muscles of her upper glutes.
Her bottom moved visibly upward now, pushing firmly against my hands, raising up off the table and causing the towel to slip completely from the lower half of her body. For a moment I naively thought it was an unintentional or involuntary reflex to the massage she was receiving, but even I had to admit it was a bit much when she started drawing her knees up and raising her bottom well into the air. "Yes, keep going please" she whispered hoarsely as I continued to work her oiled skin with my hands.