April closed her eyes and watched the girl walk from the room again. What a beautiful sway the girl had to her walk. April wondered if the sway had been just for her, or if the girl walked that way all of the time. April decided that the walk had been for her. If the girl walked that way all of the time, the cops would never be able to work all of the accidents she would cause.
April's feet remained on the massage table, her legs still open. Asking the girl out had been the most daring thing April could remember doing. Asking another woman out on a date? The thought of doing that had never entered her mind until today. Of course, getting a massage and being seduced by a beautiful lesbian had never entered her mind either. Having seven orgasms, lying with her legs open to the girls gaze while begging for her number, wanting the girl to stay for the rest of the afternoon, none of that had entered her mind either. April could still feel the masseuse's lips upon her breasts. It had been the only time the girl had tasted April's breasts and it was just before she had left the room. April stroked her nipples with her fingers. Her nipples had responded immediately upon the girl's lips touching them, growing harder as the girl sucked on one and kneaded the other. Abruptly she had taken her mouth away, slapped April hard on her ass and sauntered out of the room, leaving April wet and wanting more.
April's fingers trailed down her body until they reached her wetness.. Her fingers explored her vulva, extracting the abundant wetness, bringing her middle finger up to her clitoris. She closed her eyes again and pictured the girl's breasts, hidden beneath the flimsy crop top, her nipples poking out through the material. She trembled. Her finger flicked against her clitoris, her hips raised violently to meet her finger. The girl's mouth was on April's breasts again, drawing the nipples into her mouth, her tongue drawing circles around the aureole, raising those little bumps. The girl continued to suck on April's breast, bringing what seemed to be the whole breast into her mouth. The suction increased as the girl milked April's breast, her lips and tongue working the nipple into what felt like a cement-like hardness. April pressed the back of the girl's head harder into her breast....
April's finger was unrelenting on her clitoris, her hips pounding against her hand. Her orgasm brought her head up off of the mattress, her body shaking. The force of her orgasm took her breath away. She lay drawing deep breaths as she tried to come down from the power of the orgasm. "That's eight," she thought. She let her fingers drift down to her vagina and slowly closed her legs around her fingers. She held her fingers inside, letting the tremors of her orgasm subside.
At last she made herself sit up on the massage table. Her hair was wet against her neck. There was an especially wet spot on the sheet. She looked at herself in the mirror that adorned the wall. She could see the "orgasmic flush" the girl had told her about. The redness on her chest colored the top of her breasts as well. She squeezed her legs together again to try to shut out the tremors that refused to leave.
April looked at her eyes in the mirror. They were red, like she hadn't slept in days. She felt as if she had totally succumbed to the will of the masseuse... The girl had worn her out and then she had stroked herself to one more orgasm because she couldn't get the girl out of her mind. Images of the girl's beauty kept rushing to her memory, blocking out any other thoughts. She blew out a long puff of air and looked around the room. She knew she would never forget this room with its lingering aroma of the girl's perfume.
She knew she had to freshen up, make herself presentable. She got up and walked over to the basin. She ran cold water and splashed it onto her face to get herself out of her daze. She wished she could brush her teeth. That would have to wait. She reached into her purse and pulled out her hairbrush and started to untangle her hair. How could a woman do this to her? She had been here only an hour and she felt as if she had been having sex for days.. As she looked closer at her breasts, she saw a faint lip impression around her left nipple, the remains of the masseuse's lipstick. Her mark, she thought. She left her mark on me. Her eyes traveled down to her hips and she could see lipstick on the very inner portion of her thighs. She sighed. She had to call this girl. She had to have her again.
April walked shakily over to the massage table and picked up the masseuse's card. She had said her home number was on it. It was the only number on it, along with the masseuse's name. "She made me come for an hour and I never knew her name." April's mind was jumbled, the thought of that making her weak. She looked again at the card. "Mary France" was imprinted in red in a light scrolling font. She closed her eyes and pictured the girl again. Mary France, she thought, I think I love you.
April dressed, took a long look again in the mirror, and satisfied she didn't look like she had had sex all afternoon, opened the door. She peeked out, hoping that the hall would be empty, not wanting to be seen, exposed for the sex-crazy lesbian she was. She quickly stepped out into the hallway and made her way to the reception area of the massage parlor.
A girl about her age was sitting behind the reception desk in a pink sweater that did nothing to hide the swell of her ample breasts. It was buttoned down the front and the top two buttons weren't. April could see the very top of the girl's breasts as she leaned forward to talk to April.
"Everything go alright? "the receptionist asked.
"Great," April said. April took a hesitant breath and said, "Do you think I could leave a tip with you for Mary France?" Worried about what the receptionist would think, April found herself holding her breath. Did other women leave tips? Did other women even come here?
"Sure," the girl said. "She was good, wasn't she?" The girl looked up at April with a gleam in her eye. "She's our best. She specializes in women. I sometimes think she will have every woman in the city converted to lesbianism before long."
"She has a lot of women clients?" April's hopes of getting a date with the girl seemed to be fading.
"That's about all she does. She used to do men, but so many women, especially married women, started hearing about her that she doesn't have to do massages on men anymore. She still has a few men who have been coming to her for a while, but other than that, she doesn't take men as clients." The receptionist smiled at April. "Did she give you a card, the one with her home number? If she did it means she likes you." The girl sat back in her chair and stretched, lifting her arms over her head. Please don't do that, April thought. I am very vulnerable right now.
April breathed a sigh. For a moment she had felt like just another woman with Mary France's card. Now she felt a little better.
"Yes, she did, "April said. "She said she wanted me to call her."
"Did you have to ask for it, or did she just give it to you? "
"I had to ask," April said. "Why?"
The girl leaned further forward. "She usually makes the women ask. Or I guess I should say, 'beg.' "Did you have to beg? Did you promise her anything?"
"Beg....? April pictured herself lying on the table with her legs open, asking the girl for her number. "Yes.....I guess you could call it that. I was ...vulnerable. She had just made me come and I was lying there with my legs open. Mary France was standing between my legs, looking at me with those eyes of hers.... and I told her I would take her out to dinner. I remember thinking that I sounded like a guy asking her for a date. I haven't ever asked another woman out, so I felt kind of strange."
