Easing My Stress

I don't get a massage often. As in, pretty close to never. Mostly because I just don't have the time. But work had been more demanding than usual and the back-to-back flights had put a permanent crick in my lower back that I just couldn't seem to shake. Shelly, my PA, who was more like a mother, had taken one look at my face this morning as I was downing painkillers with my coffee and made the appointment. Now, instead of putting the final touches on my presentation to our shareholders, I found myself driving down a well-treed street in a surprisingly suburban part of town. Shelly had diverted all my calls and whilst I appreciated her efforts I was feeling stressed and out of touch and wishing that I had refused the idea. But the reality was that I couldn't deny Shelly much. She was a surprisingly strong negotiator and the whole mum thing she had going on seemed to cripple my ability to ever say no.

I was still thinking about work when I pulled in front of a large, dark grey weatherboard with gunmetal grey trim and brass fittings. The house looked, well, distinguished was the only word that came to mind. It was certainly not what I had been expecting from a massage premises. But eager to get back to work, I hurriedly, parked and walked through the gate and to the front door. The brass bell gleamed in the sun and gave a satisfying sound as I rang it. After a few minutes I heard footsteps and the door was opened by a tall and very thin brunette. She asked me to follow her and all I could think was what amazing alabaster skin she had. Usually I'm attracted to curves. Small but busty is my general preference. Brunettes are fine, I don't like to discriminate, but a red head is more to my liking.

The brunette was dressed in a baby blue form fitting monogramed V-neck and black leggings. Completely covered, yet not much left to the imagination. I followed her tight ass into a well-appointed waiting room that had a touch of the gentleman's library about it. She said her name was Lara and offered me a drink, which surprised me, and then she scuttled off down a hallway, presumably to make it. The whole place and her demeanor was not what I had been expecting. I wandered if Shelly had been here and what precisely she had booked me into. Yet something about the place already had me relaxing, as though I had walked into a country manor and was about to embark on some kind of holiday.

After a few minutes of wandering around the room looking at books, I realized that a well-built guy in faded denim, wearing a similar baby blue T, now filled the doorway. He had thrown a white shirt over the top and it hung open, giving him a slightly disheveled appearance. His dark blond hair, which was a few weeks past needing a good trim, was untidy and wind swept, contributing to the 'I just got out of bed and don't for a second think that I was sleeping' look that he had going on.

I'm not into guys. Never have been. I didn't experiment in college or eye of cocks in the gym dressing room. I'm not against other guys being into it, but I like pussy. Always have, since Belinda Forks let me finger her in the spa during my first pool party when I was twelve. Probably before, truth be told, or I wouldn't have been trying to get her to spread her chubby legs for me in the first place. But this guy had presence. Sexual presence. I might not be gay, but I have always appreciated beauty. His was more of a raw energy. It was all, masculine. Nothing about his hard angles, his aggressive stance, his piercing eyes could be termed as anything less than pure male. He was leaning against the doorframe, as if he had been there for a while, as if he had been watching me, and my slow progress around the room. He straightened, gave me a crooked velvet smile and took a few steps toward me.

Lara, the brunette slipped in behind him through the door. She had a tray with my drink on it. She smiled too. I nodded, feeling like I was agreeing to something that hadn't even been discussed yet, and took the whiskey. The amber liquid smelt expensive and I had a feeling this was not going to be an ordinary massage. "This is Billy," Lara said. Her voice was husky and low. "Follow me and I can get you ready," she continued. I took a slow slug of my drink, all the time keeping eye contact with Billy. Kind of hard to look away when he was staring me down like that. The tension in the room seemed like some sort of caged animal, just waiting to attack. I wasn't sure if he was about to fight me or fuck me with that kind of eyeballing. I work out; I spend time in the ring so I knew I could handle myself, but the intensity in the room was kind of frightening, and, as much as I hated to admit it, kind of exciting too.

I threw back the rest of the whiskey, feeling the burn rush down my throat, and dumped the glass on a side table. Brushing past him, my cock caught his smell, like leather and horses. I followed Lara's small ass, which begged to be broken, out the door and down a wide corridor; relieved to be away from all that weird tension. She led me to a surprisingly clinical room up a small flight of stairs. There was a shower cubicle in the corner, a massage table in the middle of the room and a leather couch against a wall. The back wall hosted a sideboard complete with massage oils, a burner, a towel warmer and a secretary's chair on wheels. I felt a wave of disappointment. Clearly I had been working too hard and the tiredness had hit, causing me to read too much into what must just be an ordinary situation.

"Get undressed and take a shower. There's a robe behind the door you can wear. I'll be back in around ten minutes", Lara intoned in a slightly bored and robotic fashion. I got the impression she was on automatic pilot and I longed to shake her straight back into my fantasy. As she closed the door I quickly removed my jacket and tie, unbuttoned my shirt and wandered over to the shower, turning it on to warm whilst I removed the rest of my clothes. The water was hot and the pressure strong against my shoulders. It was too much to resist. Placing my hands against the cool tiles I let the water pound into my muscles and begin to loosen the tension of the last few weeks. I closed my eyes and let the warmth lull me.

I was almost asleep on my feet when I felt her strong hands slide across my back. I hadn't heard her come into the room, nor noticed that the lights had been dimmed. She chuckled as my eyes flew open and I looked back to see her thin yet surprisingly shapely body, naked in the dim light. Lara poured liquid soap into her palm and began to slowly run her hands over my back. I closed my eyes and hung my head enjoying the feel of her supple fingers as they began to dance across my shoulders. Her moves were thorough and practiced. Starting at my neck, she ran her hands down and across my shoulders, kneading and stroking as she went. She then moved her hands firmly down my back in small, ever widening circles until she landed at the base of my spine. Her hands reached around and began to work their way up toward my chest, but the touch of her lithe form, now pushed against my back, distracted me. I could feel her small, pert breasts and large erect nipples just under my shoulder blades, her cheek pressed against me.

Lara moved my hands up higher on the tiled wall and began to massage my armpits, an astoundingly delicious feeling. She then worked her way up my arms and scratched her way back down. The feel of her cunt hair tickling the bottom of my ass ensured my cock was past half-mast. She ran her flat palms down the sides of my body and down my legs, crouching as she went. I missed the feel of her tits against me, even though her hands were sending electrical currents all along my nerve endings straight to my throbbing dick. I thought I would explode as she lifted first my left and then my right foot and scraped her nails along the bottom, causing not quite pain and not quite tickling, but immense pleasure. I never had any idea that my feet were so sensitive. I'm usually the dominant during, well, pretty much everything. It was amazing to have someone take charge, but in such a conversely submissive way. Once she had worked her way back up my legs, she slipped around me and knelt at my feet. Lara poured more soap in her hands, looking up at me, allowing me a moment to fully appreciate her naked splendor. Water trailed across her face, her slightly opened mouth and down her breasts. I imagined my cum following the same trail.

She had yet to touch my cock and it strained toward her, wishing to plunge into her pretty little mouth and face fuck her senseless. I imagined my hands snarled in her hair as I gripped the back of her head and thrust myself deep into throat. But she began to slip slide her soapy hands up the length of my body and as she did her body followed suit. Her fingers slipped between my toes, over the tops of my feet, her hands clasped my ankles and shimmied up my calves, her fingers finding that sensitive spot just at the back of my knees. Then up, inexorably up, my thighs, sneaking past my cock and up my stomach, my dick jumping wildly as her breasts began the slow follow. From my knees to my thighs and then pushed against my hard, red phallus, her breasts and protruding nipples challenged my restraint. Her slippy, soapy taunt stomach followed her breasts every move, and the tickly scratch of her pubic hair and slim but muscular thighs completed my torture as they snaked up my body.

Able to take no more of her form now nestled against mine, as she reached her full height, I pushed her back down to her knees, forcing my fingers to gentleness as I entwined them in her hair. Without waiting for her eyes to find mine in a wordless consent and as her knees hit the ground again, I unceremoniously rammed my wanting cock between the luscious lips of her mouth. Her gagging excited me and without thought I pulled out and then pushed straight into her wet mouth. I could feel her tongue playing with the length of me, and her teeth scraped gently along the top of my dick. I was too big for her, but I didn't care. I kept thrusting deeper and deeper into her mouth, using my hands to hold her head still and even pushing her down so she could take more and more of me. I had never been so violent, but something about her made me want to fuck her face harder and harder.

Some slight noise made me look up and around into the room into the eyes of Billy. His pupils were dilated and his lips were parted. He had dispensed with his shirt and T and stood bare-chested. I noticed his hand was slowly rubbing across his denim-encased cock. Whilst I thrust myself again and again into Lara's mouth, my eyes were fixed on Billy, as he stopped rubbing his cock and slid his zipper down. I slowed my pace, not wanting to blow just when things were becoming so interesting. Billy slid his jeans down and stepped out of his underwear. He stood, cock erect, and stared me down. His look was angry and proud. What did he expect from me, fear? Compliance? I smiled and licked my lips. It would be a pleasure to force him to his knees. I beckoned him closer with a nod of my head. He came, though slightly reluctantly. I was beyond caring about orientation, about male, female, about norms. I just wanted to fuck. I wanted my cock inside of them both. I want to possess, to humiliate, to conquer, but above all to feel myself explode within their confines.