Author's Note: Everyone in this story is over the age of 18. While this story carries multiple categories, I ultimately chose Exhibitionism and Voyeur due to the main body and Kady discovering these tendencies in herself.
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I'm facedown on a massage table, naked -- a state which is quickly coming to be a default for me, and I have no complaints whatsoever -- on sheets that are decadently soft, and even so, present a delicious friction to my nipples whenever I shift. And it's hard to sit still, with Neil's hands, warm with scented oil, gliding over my skin. He's naked too, which is a wonderful state for him to be in, but my head is turned the other way and my eyes are closed anyway. I'm sinking into a most beautiful state of relaxation and arousal; part of me wants to tell Neil to climb up on this table and fuck me stupid, while another part just wants this to go on.
I'm pretty sure the fucking is going to happen anyway, so I counsel myself to patience, though I do rock my hips as his hands squeeze my ass, his fingers dipping into the valley between, rubbing lightly over my anus. It sends a shiver up my spine, and my lips part with an almost silent gasp, my hands moving to grip the sides of the table. He spanks me lightly, and I giggle.
Since our first encounter, Neil and I have worked out an arrangement that suits the both of us. I end up spending the night at his house maybe once every couple of weeks, during which he works his magic on me and I go home exhausted, satisfied, and maybe a little high on whatever the body puts off during extremely intense sex. Occasionally he'll take me out to dinner or a movie or something else. It's always fun, but mostly, it serves to rile me up even further. The man has the patience of a saint, and he knows exactly how to drive me up the wall. To be honest, I'm not sure I could bear the treatment more than every couple of weeks. The intensity of the orgasms he gives me is both frightening and exhausting. As good as it feels, there's only so much a girl can take.
The dates serve another function too -- eventually, this arrangement will end, on one side or another. When it does, I don't want Neil to fall back into his seclusion. By going out, we are reacclimating him to dating and life in general. We get some odd looks, me being nineteen and he being somewhere near forty, but I could care less. I'm pretty sure he doesn't give a damn either. For me, it's an education; for him, it's therapy.
We aren't in love. I like Neil, and care about his welfare, and he's a very attractive man with extremely talented hands, but I've made it clear to him that this is fun and I want no attachments. I'm not settling with anyone just yet. It is, in fact, my stated goal is to explore. To seek out new people and new experiences. To boldly come like no one has come before!
The thought makes me giggle again on the massage table, and I squirm as Neil swats my ass again.
"What's so funny?" he asks me mildly.
"Random thoughts," I tell him. "Brain going in silly directions. Is it going to distract you too much if I talk during this?"
"Not really," he says, his hands gliding up along my back. "I always just kind of thought you were too distracted to talk."
"Mmmm," I agree. "Mostly I just like to, you know, sink into it. Dad tried to teach Just and I to meditate. Just got it, but all I ever got out of it was learning that if you focus on sensations, they get more intense. Problem was, I couldn't NOT focus on sensation, you know. But I was wondering if you had any plans to go back to work."
Neil's hands still for a moment on my back, laying flat on my shoulder blades. They lay there just long enough that I almost turn my head to look at him, and then begin moving again. "I....hadn't thought about it. Why do you ask?"
My eyes close again as he trails light fingers down my spine. "Because I think I want some advice, but I'm always like....I dunno...worried. You're all retired. And I don't want to bring up...bad things."
"You're fine, Kady," he assures me. His hands slide over my thighs, and I obligingly open them a bit wider for him. He is deliberately avoiding the place I most want him to touch, the bastard. I can actually feel liquid dripping from my labia; I'd be embarrassed if I had any shame at all. "Actually....I almost feel like I owe you. You kind of...woke me up. I hadn't considered going back to work -- my wife left me pretty well off when she passed. But not for any reason, it just...literally hadn't crossed my mind. Tell me how I can help."
Well, good. That's settled then. "Am I oversexed?" I ask him bluntly. I can't help it. I've never had any head for subtlety. Time is all we really have in this world, and I just can't see wasting it on saying anything other than what you really mean.
Neil barks out a laugh. "God, Kady. You...." He snickers as he works my calves. That's a great feeling. Even better is knowing he'll have me turn over soon. Mmmm. "Okay. First, let's talk about why you might think so."
"Because...shit, Neil, ever since my first night with you, it's been like..." I trail off, losing words, and make groping motions with my hands. "I don't know. I want it. All the time. I mean, I guess I always did, but now that I know what it's like...."
"Kid in a candy store," Neil suggests, and it's a perfect metaphor. I get what he means.
"Yeah," I tell him. "A fat kid in a candy store."
He swats my bottom for that one, a little harder, and I give a little yelp. "Be nice," he admonishes me. "I think it's too early to say, Kady. I mean, you're young, and by nature, you tend toward sensuality and impulsiveness. You go toward what feels good. Frankly -- and this is something I couldn't say if I were still officially practicing -- if you're going to make mistakes in that regard, now's the time. You've said that pregnancy isn't a concern for you -- I don't suppose you'll consider explaining that?"
"Nope," I say, and let it ride at that. Family secrets.
I can almost hear his shrug. "Then all you have to worry about is disease. I'd tell you to be cautious, but I know you too well. I do think you have the head to be responsible though. You're worried about becoming a full on nymphomaniac, but I think right now...well, let me put it to you this way. Indulgence gets called addiction when it begins to disrupt a person's chosen lifestyle. When indulgence interferes with responsibilities that let one keep life going. Right now, you don't have any responsibilities. And your parents are wise enough, I think, to check you if you go too far."
I was less sure of that than he was, given recent events, but I decided to hold my tongue on that. Besides, he was rubbing my feet. If I made any vocalization at all it would come out in moans of joy.
"So," he continues, "for now, at least, I say don't worry about it. Indulge yourself. Your body is at its most resilient right now. You can take a lot of abuse you wouldn't be able to handle later on, and you're in excellent shape to boot. In the end though, the final arbiter is this: if you aren't comfortable with it, if it bothers you, then it's time to change. So does it really bother you, or are you comparing yourself to an outside standard?"
That was a good question, and it gave me pause as he gave me the signal to flip over on my back. I flip my wild mane of curly red hair back to fall in a cascade over the head edge of the massage bed, and look down at the naked man who is beginning at my feet again. Neil is taller than I am by a few inches, and broader; he and his wife had been active and happy, and Neil had maintained his fitness mostly by reflex it seemed. There is gray in his dark hair and lines around his blue eyes, and gray peppers the light rug of hair on his chest, but the muscles underneath are still hard and solid. He notices me looking at him, and grins, bringing my feet together and placing his cock between the arches, stroking himself a few times in the space between. It makes me giggle, but it's also kinda hot, if a bit strange. Neil's dick is not enormous, but it's hard and thick and DAMN but does he know how to use it.
"Is this the kind of question I should answer now, or think about?" I ask, rising up on my elbows and watching him rub my feet -- with his hands now, he stopped playing with his cock. I cock an eyebrow at him and tilt my head.
"Think about it," he says, moving to the side of the table to my left, his hands rising over my shins, fingers wrapping around to dig into the sides of my calves. One hand releases my leg to place itself on my chest, above my breasts, and push me back down to the table. I go willingly, and he goes back to his massage, stroking my thighs gently. "It's not a thing that should be decided on a moment. I'll say it plain, Kady -- you might be reckless, but you've never struck me as stupid."
I spread my thighs with a sigh as he strokes the inner surfaces, and wriggle a bit as his fingers ruffle the small patch of coppery hair I leave over my mound. "Are you saying all this because you mean it, or because you want to keep fucking me?" I ask him impishly.
"Six of one...." he replies in an amused tone. He moves around the table as his hands rise on my body, stroking my belly, until he is behind me, and I am looking up at him, bending over me. I giggle again as I feel his hard cock bump the top of my head. "I do mean it. You have a rare set of circumstances. Most people are held back by inhibitions they have no control over. Society, family, religion, peers -- everyone says different things and confusion becomes walls between us and what we feel. You don't have any of that. You are remarkably uninhibited and utterly without shame or fear. It's a little terrifying, honestly. You let go in a way I haven't seen often. You might want to look into tantric practices; you seem to have a natural leaning toward some of the basics. That rare set of circumstances, that ability to indulge and let go, means you can probably handle a lot more in the way of sexual experience without guilt or shame than most folks."
That was a more complete answer than I'd honestly expected, and I lay still, staring up at him.
