I met a very nice woman, her name was Dottie. She was blonde, made up (maybe too much for 9am), decent shape for her age, but her skin had a weathered look to it...like too much sun for a lifetime. She led me into a dark room, pulled back a curtain and there was my table. Head pillow, tight blankets and sheets, a pillow to raise my knees.
She asked a few questions, my answers proceeded, she smiled and asked me to get undressed and to start face up. I nodded and moved towards the chair meant to keep my clothes. I could feel her eyes still on me before she turned and closed the curtain to give a little privacy. Before exiting one more question penetrated from her lipstick caked mouth, "are there any places, you don't want massaged?..being a complete professional of course. I said "no everything's fine.." with a coy smile.
She nodded and left, closing the curtain behind her. I grinned and began to undress, placing everything neatly on top of a nearby chair. When finished I remained in my white boy-cut briefs, the kind that expose a nice half moon cut of solid flesh...enough for a handful or a handle...and my long brown hair in a loose ponytail on top of my head.
I pulled back the blanket and sheets, slipping my body into its grasp. Lying face up as commanded I brought the covers just to the top of my breast and closed my eyes. I announced I was ready and she ripped open the curtain with a draft I could feel on my face. She closed it behind her and hastily ran about the room. Picking up a belt with a holster I saw earlier, which housed her lotion. Suddenly, I felt her presence by my face, but I kept my eyes shut, breathing deeply through my nose.
In a caring sort of way, motherly even..well she was twenty years older than I...she asked me to take a few deep, cleansing breaths. I obeyed, as she recognized this she began to lovingly stroke on massage my face..my neck...my breaths remained slow and deep, intentional even with her rhythm. She began like most therapists to meld my chest into my shoulder.
To my surprise each sweep of her hand, ran gradually lower on my tits. My eyes still closed, I let my body respond accordingly. I started to drift, daydream let my body take my mind into the unknown. My nipples we hard, but I kept my breathing...deep and slow...I think she noticed, even appreciate. I could feel her light touch, slowly encompassing my upper body. Then the pressure grew harder, she pinpointed my muscles...seemed to release them even.
My mind drifted to my own realm. How I would use this table...or how someone could use me on this table. As I started calculating the countless scenarios and positions, the heat building between my legs fueled by my own desires... she brought me back to reality. She took control, knowing I was trying to bring someone or something else into our room...our moment. Even with my eyes closed...I knew she was enjoying this. Her pace quickened, she stroked and pumped her bottle hard each time...deliberately maybe?