The Massage

It was an expensive resort. The five grand a night kind of resort. The kind of resort only people like us could afford. That is how we would spend our weekend away together.

Sandra and I are a married couple in their early 30's. We met in our final year of university and have since risen steadily in our lucrative profession. This comes with perks. I'm talking a paid off house in the right suburb, two sports cars, golf on the weekends, fine dining, tailored suits, Chanel bags, summer holidays in over 12 countries - and more money to burn than we know what to do with.

It was Sandra's birthday and I was stuck. I'm usually thoughtful, but I had well and truly run out of ideas. What else could money buy?

Quality time, I thought to myself.

My secretary arranged the booking and cleared my Friday afternoon schedule. She said she knew just the place (thank goodness). What this meant was a two hour drive and two nights in a luxurious resort where Sandra would be pampered. Facials, spas, beauty treatments, you name it. She really loves this kind of stuff.

The drive was long and tiring. We arrived just in time for a cosy dinner at an overpriced restaurant owned by someone famous (as Sandra pointed out) before heading straight for our presidential suite for an early night.

I hadn't had sex with Sandra in over a month which was unusual for us. She was stressed with work and I understood.

Lights off. "Goodnight baby."

***

A loud ringtone sliced through the air. I reached over Sandra and fumbled in the dim early light for her phone. It was convulsing in long pulses on the bedside table, shining much too brightly for my liking.

"H-Hello?"

"Hi Sir, may I please speak with Sandra?"

She sounded professional. I thought it was work.

"Who is this?"

"We are calling from the spa treatment centre on level one. We have a booking for a seven o'clock for Sandra. We were provided with this number when the booking was made. It's now ten past and we just wanted to confirm the attendance."

Sandra could hear the conversation taking place above her head and responded without opening her eyes in a low, groggy voice: "Oh fuck. I'm exhausted, can you please go instead?"

"Sorry, Sandra is unavailable at the moment. Can we please reschedule?"

"Unfortunately that is the only available booking we have today and tomorrow, I'm really sorry Sir."

I instantly understood why my secretary booked the treatment at this ungodly hour. That's what happens with last minute plans.

Before I could say anything else, the womanly voice on the other end of the line continued: "If Sandra is unavailable, I would highly recommend it for you, Sir".

"What exactly is involved in this treatment?"

I was up by now, walking to the other end of our suite and speaking in a hushed voice. My left hand was clasping the phone, the other automatically adjusting my relentless morning erection under my Calvin Klein's.

"Let me see. Ok, the booking is for a full body Swedish massage with hot stone therapy, exfoliation therapy, aroma oil therapy and a facial and scalp treatment. Ninety minutes in total."

I had never had a professional massage. Of all the things I had experienced in my life - never a massage. Still, I had um... valid concerns.

"I'll be honest with you, I'll probably be massaged by a gentleman and that would make me awkward. So -"

"Not a gentleman Sir, the booking is with Aurora. She is one of our senior therapists. She is fully qualified and will put your mind at ease every step of the way. Of course you are at liberty to cancel but the fee is non-refundable."

Standing at the balcony door, I parted the heavy curtain slightly to glimpse the glorious morning sunshine.

"And how much money was the fee, exactly?"

"The booking was $946 including the treatment products. How you would like to proceed, Sir?"

Of course money wasn't the issue but I was curious at the thought of Aurora's therapeutically questionable and yet expensive touch. It couldn't be so bad, could it?

I looked behind me at my wife who was fast asleep now.

"Level one. Got it. I'll be down in 10 minutes."

***

A quick shower later, I found myself heading towards the top floor elevator unsure of what to expect. The resort felt empty and no one was in the lift. I pressed my index finger against the "1" button.

Moments later, a familiar bell ring welcomed me into level one. I stepped out onto what felt like a never-ending corridor until I noticed an arrow pointing left to the spa centre.

I turned at the arrow and swung a solid glass door open. I was instantly met with a rainbow of aromas; the place had a divine smell, like a Buddhist temple or a holy monastery. I could hear soft, calming music.

My instinct was to pause momentarily to ensure I was in the right place. I made eye contact with the receptionist who was a beautiful woman in her mid-thirties; tall, thin, with long brown hair tied neatly in a ponytail. There was a familiar corporate feel about her.

"I see you found the place!", she smiled.

I shuffled nervously at the counter, half-glancing at what looked to be a collection of scented candles, oils and creams covering the shelved walls.

"Sir, you are the lucky first appointment for the day. Welcome."

"Thank you."

"If I could get you to go around the corner for me, you will see a door to your right. This is your key. You will find a locker with the corresponding number on the key. Please disrobe and leave all your valuables in the locker. Please use the robe and slippers we have provided, and kindly wait in the lounge area. You will find a questionnaire form to complete. Please fill it out until Aurora comes to get you."

I did exactly as I was told, heading first to the men's locker room which was empty. I removed all my clothes, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

I'm not going to lie: I am good looking. I am very good looking, actually. To be precise, I'm of Spanish descent, six foot, athletic, I have a pearl white smile, chest hair in the right amounts, no hair in places it shouldn't be, dark eyes with flickers of red, symmetrical facial features, a sexy three day stubble and wavy jet black hair parted to the side in a preppy look.

Still, part of me was sapprehensive about being naked under some silky robe. The slippers felt like they were made of paper and did not fit me. I proceeded cautiously out of the room and into the waiting area, feeling strangely feminine and out of place.

The next thing I recall is being seated on a comfortable couch and completing questions such as "Do you have heart disease?" and "Do you currently take medication?"

I ticked "No" for all the questions, including the question about previously having a massage. I was hoping the "qualified therapist" would go easy.

She then entered.

"Hi, I'm Aurora..."

Her voice was mellow and warm. Her hands reached out and lightly took hold of my right hand in an earnest embrace as she titled her head forward slightly in a respectful bow. Then, she gently pulled her hands back towards her, softly caressing both her palms on the sides of my right outstretched hand. All the while she beamed a sincere smile.

There was nothing sexual about this introduction. And yet I instantly felt it. The familiar feeling of blood rushing downwards. Down...there.

This fuzzy feeling was instantly followed by sheer panic at the possibility of my visible growth beneath my feeble robe. What if I develop an erection during the massage and I am thought of as a creep? I hadn't had sex in a month. Oh, the humiliation.

Thankfully, my anxious heart pounded the erection away instantly. Phew.

The woman who elicited this reaction was in her late-twenties, around five foot five, curvy and full, with long flowing red hair. Her short fingernails were politely manicured and painted a maroon colour. She was dressed in what almost resembled a black Karate robe, except I knew it had nothing to do with martial arts.

"Follow me, please", Aurora said smiling.

I followed her into another hallway where she stood at the entrance of a white wooden door and ushered me in. The room was relatively small. There was what looked to be a kitchen bench with a sink and a tap on one side beneath a row of cupboards. A narrow massage table stood in the middle of the room, diagonally. At each corner of the darkened room was a softly lit candle. The atmosphere was bewitching.

On the bench were several expensive-looking pump bottles and a box of tissues. This immediately conjured memories of me as a high school senior, furiously masturbating to pornography at every chance I could get. I quickly looked away, as though my thoughts could be heard out loud.

Then I heard a real sound: The door closing behind me.

"I see this is your first time receiving a massage", Aurora said in an upbeat voice as she peered over my answers.

"Yes, I'm not sure what to expect."

I was surprisingly calm. Collected. Direct.

"Well, if you feel uncomfortable at any point, just let me know and I will work around you. There is nothing to be worried about, ok?"

Her smile beamed at me again. Damn.

"Thank you, I appreciate that."

"Great! I'll get you to take off your robe and lie face down on the table for me, placing your hands to your sides and your head in the opening at the top of the table. We ask that you keep your underwear on please."

My heart sank.

"Oh... I did- I didn't realise about the...umm..."

"The underwear?", she interjected softly.

"It's fine, and you weren't to know. Lie down for me and -- here." She used both hands to respectfully offer me a thin white towel.

"Just put this over your midsection", she said while brushing the air with her index and thumb across her pelvis, "and I'll be back in a tick."

Aurora left the room. I caught myself becoming nervously excited in my solitude. Why? This was just a massage. People have massages all the time, right?

I removed my robe and hung it on the door before proceeding to mount the table and lie face down, as directed. My flaccid, circumcised penis dangled and rubbed against the silky fabric beneath me as I adjusted. I swung the towel over my buttocks and used both hands to my sides to position it perfectly over my "midsection". I then lowered my head into the carved hole in the table which was lined with soft pillow fabric.

All I could see was the floor beneath the table, as far as my eyes would allow.

So far, so good.

***

It was not long before Aurora returned. I heard her shut the door behind her. I also heard the sound of a lock and key turning.

My eyes were glued to the floor beneath the massage table and I could not bring myself to close them. I was wired.

"Are you comfortable?"

"Yes, thank you", I lied.

"Excellent. Just relax for me."

I could hear Aurora walk around the table, circling from my head to my heels. She was wearing what sounded like slippers. As she stood right behind my feet, I realised I hadn't taken my own slippers off.

"Oh dear, those don't fit you do they?"

I could feel her removing my slippers one by one, tugging them downwards. With both hands, she proceeded to grasp my right ankle and gently move it to the side of the table to be rested on what felt like a small cushion. The same was done to my left ankle. My legs were now slightly spread.

Next, I heard an electronic beep followed by the same kind of gentle, calming music that was being played in the reception. Like a solemn flute echoing over the mountains.

A moment passed and I heard a pumping noise and a gush of fluid. It was then I felt two hands gently begin to rub my upper back in smooth, slow circular motions. The oil was unexpectedly warm and that instantly caused whatever tension I had in my shoulders to melt away.

Aurora's hands were small, plump and focused. She knew the tracks and grooves to follow. Up and down, followed by left to right, followed by a clockwise motion and then an anti-clockwise motion. It was a perfectly rehearsed pattern. Suddenly, I felt the figure "8" being drawn firmly with the tips of her fingers on the small of my back. Wow.

Aurora shuffled her feet back around my body so that she was standing directly over my head. She did this as she worked on my upper back, digging her thumbs into the muscular structure and working her way down to my hips - like someone rolling dough. As I peered down, I could see her toes protruding from her open slippers. They were neatly groomed and painted the same maroon colour as her fingernails.

"Is this ok?"

I could hear a wave of air leave her mouth as she spoke. It was the sound of exertion.

"Perfect, thank you."

The more she leaned over to reach my hips from that position, the more she was forced to bend over me. I was convinced that I could repeatedly feel the weight of her two supple D-cups gently brush against my shoulders. My manhood grew under my weight and it left me no choice but to instinctively lift my buttocks ever so slightly to point my growing rod between my legs.

Fuck. I had done this without thinking. I froze and gulped silently as my accelerating heart beat pounded in my ears. What on earth was I thinking?!

To my relief, Aurora did not run out screaming. The next 20 minutes or so consisted of the same flowing motion over my back and also the back of my legs from different angles. To be honest, who knows what was going on. My primary focus was on actively keeping myself from developing another erection.

Not a word was spoken until I heard her gentle voice echo the words: "Please turn over for me."

It took a moment to register. I was under the impression that massages were given on the back of the body only. As I was still processing, I felt the towel on my midsection lift which prompted me to elevate my head from the table and look to my left where Aurora stood.

She was holding the towel like a curtain, hung straight in the air with her head turned away from me in a modest fashion.

I manoeuvred myself around the narrow table and came to rest on my back. My hands were at my sides. The towel was lowered and Aurora looked at me with a soft smile. The light was dim but I could tell she was flushed in the face.

Without a further word, she bent over and seemed to be reaching for something under the table. The top of her bosom caught my eye. I immediately looked away.

"I'll just put this over your eyes..."

It was an eye mask wrapped in what felt like silk, without a strap. She placed it gently on my face and I could see no longer.

The shuffle of her feet echoed to my right followed by the sound of three or four more oil pumps. Fuck.

***

Two thumbs gently pressed into the bottom of my left heel and slid deliberately upwards towards my toes. This motion was repeated from bottom to top around five times. Then came the gentle, slow, stroking of my foot with two full palms. This was done in an up-and-down manner, with one hand trailing behind the other. I could hear the oil seeping through Aurora's fingers. The sound was wet and sloppy and there was but one unavoidable thought in my hypersensitive mind: If only she had been doing that to my manhood.

That thought was enough. The heat rushed angrily to my loins causing my thighs to tingle into the direction of my sex. I felt my vulnerable cock elongate beneath the flimsy towel, lifting it slightly off my torso. There was no way to hide this. In front of me was a woman - a stranger - professionally working on my body and, horrifyingly, witnessing my taboo reflex.

The worst part was that I could not see the room. Specifically, I could not see whether SHE could see. The panic set in and my heart began to race, causing my breathing to quicken. The harder I tried to muffle my breathing, the faster my heart pounded. I felt like I was running, all the while staying helplessly still and exposed.

Aurora's hands did not stop. The smooth flowing motions of the massage were not interrupted. Luckily the ordeal lasted around twenty seconds before the sheer embarrassment drove all the blood back up to my red face, and I could feel my manhood retreating.

"Is this ok?"

This time she spoke in a much more lowered, hushed voice. I gulped and cleared my throat before I spoke.

"Yes, thank you."

She began working on my right foot in the exact same routine. I anticipated the long strokes before they began and actively avoided an erection by thinking about anything other than what was happening. Success was not without difficulty.

Agonising minutes passed before Aurora moved to my left and gently took hold of my arm, swinging it outwards first then placing my elbow down on my side. She folded my arm as she took hold of my left hand and I quickly realised the earlier routine would be applied to the palms of my hands.

What troubled me (and equally aroused me) what that Aurora held my hand so close to her chest that the back of it almost touched her swollen breasts. I could feel the inner sides of her succulent mounds dangling freely in her thin outfit as she worked the tension away and out through the tips of my fingers with one hand, all the while holding me in the other.

She seemed to focus her attention on individual fingers. First the pinkie; she wiggled it with the tips of three lubricated fingers while sliding them up and away from me in an audible snap.

When it came time for my ring finger, Aurora spoke in a hushed voice again, as though she was trying not to wake anyone.

"I'm just going to take this off for you and will place it right here on the table, ok?"

I nodded in my darkness and felt my wedding ring sliding off me and being placed on a hard surface with a soft clunk.

Three fingers pressed against the base of my now bare ring finger and wiggled all the way to the top and away in a snap. This routine continued until Aurora reached my thumb.

Instead of the tips of three fingers pressing against the base, this time it was all five. They clasped the base and I felt them wiggling all the way to the top. The motion was repeated as though someone was picking a name from a hat. Or...stroking a flaccid penis back to life?

Oh, not again.

My rod launched into action, elongating with a vengeance and expanding mercilessly under the towel. I could not believe how quickly my dick sprung up and twitched twice, so very uncontrollably and noticeably.

The difference this time is that Aurora was right next to me, closer than she had been before. A wave of air left her lungs and lingered on my hand. She had just given a silent exhale and I wondered if she was looking down at my erection.

Not knowing how to interpret her reaction, my mind launched into a terrifying scenario which included deep disgust on Aurora's part and an early end to my humiliating massage. But no sooner had I thought that, she gently placed my arm back down to the left of me, ever so professionally, and moved to my right where she took hold of my right arm. My cock had retreated slightly by that time and I was beginning to recognise an internal cyclical pattern of arousal and fear. I wondered if she did, too.

This time, Aurora skipped part of her routine and commenced directly with the thumb. Applying all five tips around the base, she began to tug upwards...and downwards again. Once, twice, three, four, f- umm...wait, what?

There could be no mistake about what she was doing. I mean, why the thumb? Why so repetitively this time?

"Does this feel good?" her hushed voice echoed curiously.

I nodded.

Up and down, slowly at first then faster and faster. My mind did the rest by perfectly applying the sensation to my aching sex. I imagined Aurora was deliberately milking my thumb in an attempt to bring my cock back to life. I was much less self-conscious. In fact, I felt invited to develop the erection. As it grew, I intentionally twitched boldly it a few times, vibrating the towel unmistakably in the room. It was the most erotic moment of my life.