By the end of my second year in business, as a masseur for stressed ladies, things had really started to take off and I found myself having to limit the number of clients I could see in a day. It's all very well imagining a succession of beautiful, naked, stressed out ladies needing attention with a sensuous massage but often, and increasingly so as my reputation spread, they wanted a more erotic experience and I found these encounters could be pretty exhausting.
I understand why ladies come to me. There is no requirement to be active, nothing to give, no expectations to fulfil, just lie there and direct the experience, like a film. There is no requirement to perform, and once satisfied there is no further obligation, just get up and go.
I always stuck to my golden rule, actually there were two rules that I never broke. Number one was only to touch bare flesh unless asked for more. That was quite obvious really, if the client didn't want me to see it she would hardly want me to massage it and I have to say some kept quite an extraordinary amount of clothing on, considering they wanted a massage, but that's their choice. If they want a massage through a fur coat I'll give it a go.
No, the twenty four carat gold rule was 'no sex'. Here I think I have to take time out to define what I actually mean by sex. Clearly massaging someone's breasts could be considered sexual but is it sex? No. Similarly massaging the buttocks and pelvic area could also be considered sexual but again, is it sex? No. So what I actually mean by no sex is simply, no penis vagina penetrative sex. Simple! All the rest is fair game: what they want they get.
Now I would be being less than honest if I said that I hadn't been tempted from time to time. Two mature, often naked, humans trying to turn each other on, and frequently succeeding, is a formula for temptation, but more of that later.
By now a lot of my clients were repeat business or client's friends. Even my first ever client, the 'frightened deer' who could hardly get down to her underwear, came back.
I'd felt so sorry for her but rule one is rule one. Anyway she returned, still looking nervous, but not the 'frightened deer' of the first time. This time she screwed up the courage to take off her bra but, predictably, kept her panties on.
These were completely different panties to the ones she wore last time and I have to confess to now being something of an expert in ladies' 'underpinnings', I've seen so many. These were a good deal more revealing, bikini style, rather than the anti glam pants she'd worn last time, although even those had betrayed her excitement, with a little damp line on the white cotton.
Anyway these were high cut leg with a little pink bow right in the middle: much better. Quite sexy even. For some reason I couldn't help wondering if she was waxed or just trimmed because, in those revealing panties, she certainly was not 'au naturel'. I may well wonder because the chances of finding out were minimal, so I just let my imagination roam.
I habitually start with one leg, I work my way up one from toes to calf, then calf to thigh, ending just short of the towel or panties, as appropriate, before starting on the other leg. This time I noticed that her legs were considerably wider apart than before. Combining this information with the new, sexy, underwear, I guessed that she was looking for a slightly more erotic experience, so I ended my upstrokes only a fraction short of the cotton and was rewarded with low sighs.
Now, I assumed I was on the right track and took equal care with the other leg with the same result. Good for her, she knew what she wanted and was working up to it.
I continued with the back massage paying particular attention to the neck and shoulders and starting the longer strokes from the top of her slightly revealing panties. When my hands reached her shoulders and to start the light return strokes, I let them fall slightly to the sides just passing over the very side of each breast. No adverse reaction, good, but that is as far as I'm prepared to go without more explicit instructions.
Time to turn over, so I held up a towel allowing her to change position
without flashing her boobs and then laid it modestly across her chest. Now she really surprised me. I noticed she had closed her eyes and very discretely encouraged the towel to slip off onto the floor. She was now lying there face up, eyes closed, and topless. She was breathing hard, really hard, but topless, her generous breasts heaving up and down. I can only imagine what her pulse rate was.
