My unreserved thanks to Ella for her small additions that enlivened my drab text, and to Kayla for letting me use some of her words. Kayla is a very gifted writer, and I am trying to convince her to publish in her own right. I hope she does soon.
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Claire dressed in a daze, just pulling on her outerwear and stuffing her bra and panties into her gym bag. Her mind had just about registered the masseuse's name from the tag she had worn on her lab coat. "Kayla," she rolled the name around in her mind as she walked out of the gym, her legs tottering, her whole body shaking, her mind in a maelstrom. "How could I have let this happen?" she pondered as she wound her weary way to the bus stop. While she had been in Kayla's arms, all was right with her world, but the moment she was let up to go home, her entire being was suddenly shaken. "Was it from the loss of her warmth that I feel cold? Or is it because I have been ordered to return, and that thought terrifies me?" she thought, struggling with the alien feelings stirring inside her.
The entire journey was spent tossing these questions back and forth. She could not decide whether she anticipated going back, or dreaded it. She hurried into her apartment, dumped her bag in the hallway and started to strip off her top and trousers as she headed straight for the shower, to try and cleanse the feelings that were fogging her mind.
The shower on full blast, pelting her with hot water, seemed to ease the cold from her body, but her mind was still numb. Mechanically, she scrubbed her body, subconsciously trying to wipe the memory of the massage. The memory would not go, especially when her soapy hands reached her breasts. On the contrary, that only served to reinforce how Kayla had massaged her breasts. Without thinking, Claire started to imitate the motions Kayla had made on her breasts, cupping them, pulling on them from chest to tip, shaping them into a cone. Her nipples hardened once again, just as they had on the massage table.
The cleaning forgotten, Claire continued to caress her breasts, harder than Kayla had done, pulling on her nipples, twisting them until she moaned in the ecstasy of pain. She stopped suddenly. "What am I doing?" she berated herself. "I'm not a slave to my body. I will not give in to this .. this .. feeling." Yet, while she thought, her hands somehow resumed their caress on her breasts, softly this time, tenderly easing the ache in her nipples. The gentle touch on her nipples reminded her of another area that was looking for a similar caress, as the tingle in her nipples translated into a matching tingle that was growing between her legs.
She looked down, in disbelief, at herself. Her clitoris, red and erect, beckoned her, while her nether lips looked swollen and engorged. Absentmindedly, as if to shelve responsibility for her action, her hands gravitated to her core. Both hands petted her lips, as if trying to ask for forgiveness for the harsh treatment they had received at the gym.
The hot water from the shower could not disguise the heat of the liquid emanating from her, still, over an hour after her mind shattering climax. She recalled the taste of Kayla's as she had been nearly suffocated by the dank, exotic, musky taste of the nectar she had been forced to extract, then swallow. The taste seemed to be stuck in her mouth, every gasp of breath giving her another reminder of Kayla's scent.
One hand, doused in her own juices, went absentmindedly to her mouth, her tongue reaching out to it well before the hand reached her lips. She licked off all her own juices from her hand, another first for her. She felt so sexual, so wanton, so naughty as she lapped greedily at her fingers. The forbidden taste sent yet another shockwave through her, and her other hand clenched itself between her legs, her middle finger unerringly finding its way inside her.
Claire slumped down to her knees, finding her legs no longer able to support her, as she continued to hammer her finger in and out of herself in a frenzy of lust, trying to replicate Kayla's fingers when she had finally entered her. Another finger joined in as she recalled Kayla had also used two. Stiffening her fingers, she rooted inside herself, looking for that elusive something that would trigger the same ecstasy that Kayla had given her.
Her hand dropped from her mouth to join the other between her legs, this one heading for the nubbin standing erect. She rotated one finger around it, not touching it directly, delaying that magic moment when her clitoris would provide the sensation she craved. Harder and harder, her two fingers inside her delved deeper, then withdrew, only to slide back in forcefully, again to retreat, until she felt the beginnings of what she knew signalled the final stage of her journey.
Only now did Claire touch her finger directly to her clitoris. It was as if a shock wave had run through her, and she clamped her thighs together as best as she could in her kneeling position, trying to trap her hands between them, to trap the orgasm threatening to burst out any moment.
She realised it was a vain attempt. Nothing, but nothing, could stop the deluge that was ready to flood out of her, like a slowly building wave rising, cresting, ready to smash everything in its path as it shattered. She curled her fingers inside herself, crooking them, dragging them across the roof of her vagina, pulling out the orgasm that seemed trapped inside.
That last motion of her fingers triggered her release, an explosive electric energy, surging and igniting every nerve ending, a brilliant explosion of light and fury. A slow fog began to descend, across her brain, down her body, and she found herself prostrate in the shower, head to the ground, bottom in the air, gasping for breath, her fingers driven back inside herself, as liquid emotion burst out of her, mixing with the now tepid shower water to gurgle down the drain.
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She woke from a fitful sleep, unable to place the sound that had roused her. The buzzing continued as she stared at her clock, then realised it was her mobile phone ringing. "Who can be calling me this early?" she thought, irritated at whomever had disturbed her. The number calling her was unknown, without a caller identification, so it was not someone on her list. Puzzled, she picked up the phone and mumbled "Hello?"
"Claire?" the voice on the other end asked, but there was no tentativeness in the tone. It was a tone of authority, even though it was couched as a question. "Yes," she replied, instantly awake. She knew that voice. She had last heard it when she was told to reappear the following week. Still, unbelieving, she sought confirmation. "Kayla?" she asked, "how did you get my number?"
"From the office," Kayla said, "you gave it when you enrolled. I just 'borrowed' it."
"Why did you call me, Kayla?"
"To tell you that the plans have changed. I cannot wait until next week to see you again."
"But, Kayla, I am not due for my session until Friday."
