Celebrating Her Promotion

Another celebration of Charley Williams promotion to MD of Global Mergers and Acquisitions for a major investment bank

*

"Don't stop, don't stop, keep going," Charley was thinking. "Don't stop your hand, let it go all the way."

The feeling as the girl's fingers slid up the inside of her heavily oiled thigh was amazing. The sensation as they reached that patch of supersensitivity an inch or so down her thigh, sent shudders of lust and pleasure through her.

Charley was at a very upmarket spa in a converted country house in the Cotswolds, near to Blenheim Palace where Winston Churchill was born and is buried. She was giving herself another reward for her promotion, a weekend being pampered at a health resort and spa. She had been there since Saturday lunchtime and had enjoyed a number of treatments. She had luxuriated at having the time to relax and have her hair cut and styled properly, as opposed to having a hair stylist come to her apartment, usually around nine in the evening for a quick cut and blow dry. She had revelled in laying back and having a full facial, a manicure and pedicure. She had swum, had saunas been in the steam rooms and had spent time in the gym, stretching and using the various machines. It was a pure indulgent luxury being away from her Blackberry and phone, using time for herself instead of the bank or clients and doing nothing other than have pleasure.

On the Sunday afternoon following a light lunch after using the jacuzzi, having a leisurely swim, spending a time in the aromatic steam room and taking several showers, Charley had decided to have a full body massage

She opened her legs a little further, hopefully dropping a strong hint. Nothing happened, other than those tantalizing hands sliding up and down her thigh, seemingly going ever nearer to her pussy. God how she ached to feel them on her.

Lying face down her eyes shut, Charley found difficulty in recalling just what the masseuse looked like. She knew she was fairly stocky and not stunningly attractive, but recalled her large breasts. And lying there hoping for the fingers to slide further and slip inside her, Charley imagined the masseuse opening her white tunic and offering her breasts to her.

As aroused as Charley was becoming, so Gretta, the Norwegian masseuse, was also feeling the same. It was unusual, but not unknown, for a guest to want relief on the table in the spa. It could be risky to offer more when it was not wanted. It could cost the masseuse her job. They were not part of the service, although most of them did get lucky now and then.

Was this to be her day? Gretta was thinking as she looked down on the lithe, slightly olive skinned, naked woman on her massage table. As per standard procedures, Gretta had draped a couple of large towels over the client, theoretically to preserve their modesty. As usual with an attractive client, Gretta laid the towels so they covered the woman from mid-way down her back to mid thigh. Against procedure for far more flesh was on show than there should be, but Gretta looked on that as her perk.

She wasn't sure, but thought she had seen some of the tell tale signs with this attractive client, who she had learned was in a very powerful position in bank, a real career woman. Those little squirms, quiet sighs, slight grunts and small movements. Was this client a player, she wondered, her practiced hand slipping a little higher, a little nearer, a little closer to that pretty pussy?

Charley didn't know the form. How could she, she'd rarely been to such a place before, she just did not have the time. Would she be kicked out if she asked the masseuse to relieve her? Would she be reported by her if she made any overtures or asked for sexual favours? Would the masseuse be offended if she was too obviously being sexually thrilled by her?

God it was becoming hard not to show something. The hands were moving more slowly, but felt to be more purposeful, more teasing, closer to her lips. Please, please, she screamed inside, as involuntarily she lifted herself the tiniest amount from the massage table. Had the masseuse seen that? Had she noticed? She wondered pressing herself more firmly to the bed.

Hmmm, Gretta thought, she's feeling something, but is she a quiet one? Up and down, up and down she slid her hands, slowly, now pressing far more softly than earlier, now almost caressing the lovely thighs, now going so close, now sort of asking permission, now almost stopping at the top of each sweep.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, Charley was saying in between reciting the seventeen times table backwards in her head in an effort to take her mind off the masseuse, her tits and hands and her own aching cunt. She couldn't, though, stop her legs opening a little more. Had the masseuse noticed, she asked herself again?

Of course Gretta had, it was her job to notice such things, to see such signs, to be aware of a woman's needs. After all she had been lesbian all her life.

As she slid her hands tantalizingly slowly up Charley's thigh, she imagined what it would be like to fuck this gorgeous creature. She didn't often get the chance of having sex with such a lovely woman, her type were usually, older and fatter and often quite ugly as well. But the signs looked so good. Despite that she had to be careful. Get it wrong, get reported and she could easily be fired and probably struck off the register. Get it right, though, and the heaven of Charley's body would be hers.

Charley's body jerked. Obviously and clearly it jumped as she grunted. It evidently shuddered as the side of the masseuse's hand touched her. As it brushed, very softly against her lips, as it, so gently it could be claimed to be accidental, rubbed against her.

Gretta was testing the waters. A brief touch, quickly move away, look at the reaction and decide what next.

She could see that Charley's lips were glistening with the lubrication of her arousal, a good but not totally indicative sign. She saw the body jerk. Again, an encouragement but not a conclusive indicator of the client's acceptance.

She'd had the touch, she'd moved away, she'd looked at the reaction. What next? More of the same. Another touch, a longer contact. Move away, watch the jerk and shudder and listen to the low moan. Another touch, firmer, harder. The lovely pert bum lifted off the bed, but still there was no clear indicator. Fuck it.

The touch was like an electric shock, but was it an accident? Maybe I'm imagining it? Charley thought not confident to let herself go. Not assured enough to do what she would most like to do; roll over, open her legs, raise her knees, rip the masseuse's coat open, bury her face between those great, big tits and scream, fuck me.

Gretta was pretty, but not completely, sure that Ms Williams wanted it. All her instincts told her that this elegant young woman was up for it. Her experienced fingers could feel the tension building in the slim body, her ears heard the slight, but encouraging, sounds slipping involuntarily from the slightly too thin lips for the woman to be called beautiful, mouth. She was even fairly sure that she could smell the familiar muskiness of arousal. She knew she had to crank up the pressure, turn the screw a bit, take a chance and go for it. But she was a cool Scandinavian and she rarely let her emotions get the better of her and she never took undue risks.

"Would you turn over please?" she said in perfect English, though, Charley thought, in a slightly tight voice.

As Charley started lifting and turning her body Gretta's first reaction was to turn her back as she had been trained and as the procedures specified.

"Never look at the client's naked body, turn away, hold the towels up and avert your gaze," were the clear instructions."

What Gretta should have done, was take the towels from the client's body, lift them up, turn away and then, when the client was on her back, drape the towel over her body covering her from above her breasts to her knees. Then, when the massage was restarted, just that portion of towel needed to expose the part, arm, shoulder, thigh or calf, that was being treated should be peeled back. That was the procedure, the proper way of turning a client over.

Yes, that was what Gretta should have done, but she didn't. Instead, after she lifted the towels from Charley, she let one drop to floor unnoticed, she did not turn away or avert her gaze, she did not hold the towel up, she did not provide cover for Charley and, most certainly, she did not avert her gaze from the superb naked body that turned over on the bed in front of her. What she did was hold the towel by her side and stare at the lithe nakedness that was slowly revealed to her appreciative gaze as Charley turned onto her back.

Charley had not been to many spas and, but was familiar with the way that masseuses acted when she turned over. She was surprised at how different this was. Was this just an oversight, maybe the way it was done by the more liberal and sexually liberated Scandinavians? She didn't know and wondered, was it another sign, an invitation, a request, maybe?

Laying back she was part relieved, part pissed and part excited, when Gretta moved beside the massage couch and started to arrange the towel. Again the normal spa procedure was to do that in a discrete way that minimized any possible embarrassment for the client. Usually one, or even two or three large towels were used so that all but the part of the body that was being worked upon remained covered. Charley was pissed because Gretta started to cover her, relieved because she wasn't being forced to make a decision, for she still could not make out whether anything untoward was happening or whether it was all in her mind, and excited, because the masseuse used just one towel and a smallish one at that.

As Charley lay back, Gretta gazed down at the naked body. Were the nipples inflated, was that liquid glistening on the neatly trimmed patch of black pubic hairs, she wondered as she placed the towel on her client's body? Purposefully, indicatively, suggestively and hopefully the Norwegian lesbian arranged the towel so that one edge was just millimeters above her client's quite dark nipples, the other just a few centimeters down her thighs.

Standing behind Charley, Gretta worked first of all on the slim shoulders. It was easy work, for it was more skin and bone than deep tissue and muscle, other than the shoulder and, of course, those lovely, little tits, she smiled to herself as she concentrated on the massage, wondering if she would get to feel them.

Charley had closed her eyes as the massage had restarted and she was appreciating Gretta's skill as the fingers dug into the muscles across her shoulders. She opened her eyes and sneaked glances at the masseuse as Gretta moved alongside the table and started to work on Charley's upper arm.

She was certainly a big girl, Bigger than any woman Charley had been with. But then all but a couple of those, the two girls she had been with at uni., had been hookers, and when you paid up to a grand a night you got what you wanted, you got what money of that level bought, beautiful girls with beautiful bodies. This was different. This was real life, this was two women exploring, testing and investigating; things Charley knew little about for the murderous hours she put into her job left her little time for normal seductions.

So she was big, so what? There was a prettiness about her face, she had nice eyes, alright her nose was big and her mouth was non-descript, but her short blonde hair was attractive. She had broad shoulders, but then massage probably required that, her waist was, at best, chunky and she had an obvious tummy bulge. And yes when she had turned away Charley had seen she had quite a big, but not huge bum and her legs were, if the describer was being generous, sturdy. But her tits were clearly huge and hey, where the fuck had that cleavage come from? Cheeky cow she's undone a button or two Charley realised closing her eyes again and letting the dual feelings of being massaged and maybe being seduced as well, wash over her.

Gretta placed Charley's left arm back on the table, under the towel. She moved round and massaged the other arm and placed that alongside Charley's body, also under the towel. She massaged both feet and legs beneath the knees. Dead straight, no hints or suggestions. She prided herself on giving a great massage and whether she got to fuck Ms Williams or not, she wanted to make sure her massage was memorable.

Onto the legs, the upper legs, Charley's thighs. Gretta poured oil onto the right thigh, on the inside, high up, just where the towel ended.

Charley almost went. "Mmmmmmm," so good did it feel as the warm, almond oil drizzled across and down her thighs. "Just like cum juices," she thought to herself adding an "oh fuck" that she feared she may actually have said, when the magic fingers glided up and down her thigh.

It felt so good. It was softer and smoother than before. That was purposeful; it was Gretta's seduction sliding, as she smilingly described it. It was not really a massage now, more a caress really, but one with sufficient comparability to a massage so she could not be accused of overt seduction. No the skill, or art, was to put the idea into the client's mind and let them decide. Nearly always they did, but now and then you got one that wanted it, but wouldn't give into her feelings and wouldn't join in; they just took and didn't give back.

The towel moved up a little on each sweep of the hands, It also slowly slid sideways as Gretta's hip "accidentally" pushed it. Charley didn't realise this. She couldn't see, for she had her eyes tightly closed. She was willing the hands that she now looked on as her friends, to go further, not to stop, but they did. Her body was tense, her emotions all over the place as, unbeknown to her the towel moved upward at the bottom and slid sideways at the top.

By moving just a little way down Charley's body Gretta could look up inside the towel and could see the glistening pussy lips. By glancing up she could see the dark pink, almost brownness of Charley's nipples, not all of them, but just the top of each one.

This was becoming an agony for Charley, an agony but one of such pleasure and excitement. One of the hands now seemed to be almost permanently at the top of one her thighs, squeezing, stroking, caressing and massaging. Nearer and nearer to the paradise for both of them that nestled between her legs, that had now opened, without her hardly realising, nearly as far as they could go. Her bottom was squirming a little, lifting off the bed as she rolled her head to one side, her eyes tightly closed her mouth opening and shutting as she gasped for breath.

Gretta saw those gestures, She recognised the signs, but then that was her job to see when a woman was responding to her advances. She saw that Charley was responding, but not overtly. And she noted that her quarry was not opening up, not giving into her advances, not acknowledging what was happening to her. Maybe she wants it but doesn't want to own up to that and fully share it with me, Gretta thought, as her hand, less discretely now, pushed against the towel lifting it further so that a few stray straggles of dark pubic hairs poked out beneath the edge of the material.

Charley knew that Gretta could not avoid seeing the reaction her overtly sexual massage was having on her. Any woman would see it, any masseuse would see it and, certainly any lesbian masseuse would see it. And Gretta did. She saw the reaction, she was thrilled by it and she fully intended to take complete advantage of it.

She saw the body lift off the table a little, the legs open wider, the head roll from side to side and now, the beautifully manicured fingernails gripping the side of the table. She shimmied her hip against the towel level with Charley's waist. It slid down and across the client's body. Charley's right breast was now almost completely uncovered. It was perfect, Gretta thought, smiling as she saw with extreme pleasure that the nipple was erect, upright and clearly very hard.

Charley could not really have missed knowing that her breast was bare, but she did nothing to acknowledge that. Gretta smiled knowingly as she again rubbed her hip against the modestly sized towel in effect pulling it across Charley's body. The top had now slid down each breast and the side, the one across the massage table from Gretta, had ridden so far up and across the slim body that the side of that breast, the waist, hip and outer thigh were all revealed. Obviously, the edge by Charley had slid down the table so that it almost touched the floor. Gretta revelled in being able to roam her gaze over both of Charley's tits and hard nipples and at the same time see her glistening pubes and clearly soaked pussy.

It was time. Now was right. She had done her job and the moment was here. Her prize awaited her, she deserved it; she had earned it.

With another shrug of her hip she caused the towel to fall from Charley's body completely, she revealed everything, she exposed all, she made her client totally naked.

Charley whimpered with sexual relief and delight as she realised what Gretta had done. But she didn't open her eyes, do or say anything and she did not acknowledge that she was now ripe and ready for whatever Gretta wanted to do to her. And Gretta, of course, now wanted everything, it was her right.

With no hesitation, Gretta placed her right hand on Charley's left tit. She squeezed it and felt the first surge of orgasm hit her. She lost all inhibitions and doubts, concerns or worries, she felt bold and adventurous and so fucking aroused that she knew for sure she would cum. She knew as equally certainly that she would also make Charley cum.

Her left hand slid up from Charley's knee to mid-thigh, she paused for a moment, almost as if she was taking aim.

Charley had audibly groaned as the fingers had found her breast and squeezed the soft, so sensitive flesh. She pushed the pliant orb against the hand and luxuriated in the sensations that surged through her as the fingers squeezed back. At that moment she knew for sure that the sturdy masseuse would make her cum. She momentarily wondered if Gretta would cum with her?

But those thought were rudely cast from her mind. Her brain went into an almost trancelike state, there was no room for other thoughts, other considerations or other ponderings as Gretta's hand now moved quickly, surely and confidently. As the masseuse resumed her magical journey up Charley's slim, smooth and very open thighs. As she closed the gap between her hand and its journey's end. As Gretta shoved three straightened fingers right up Charley's cunt.

Charley felt she might explode, so extreme were the feelings as Gretta used her fingers just like a cock and began to fuck the younger woman. Gretta's body jerked as her fingers felt the familiar, warm stickiness of the inside of another woman's pussy. She pumped them in and out and bent forward taking the hugely swollen nipple into her mouth. She sucked, Charley pushed against her mouth. Gretta plunged her fingers as far inside the pussy as they would go and held them there, rigid and unmoving, inviting her quarry to respond. Charley pushed her cunt as firmly against Gretta's fingers as she could.

All pretence, all acting, all make-believe, all subterfuge that nothing was really happening ended. Charley acknowledged, as clearly as Gretta displayed, that she was being fucked by another woman on a massage table.

Charley gave into the feelings and moaned and grunted, grabbing hold of Gretta's wrist pulling the hand and fingers more firmly against her aching womanhood. Gretta pressed back as much as the pressure from her client's grip allowed.