New Jersey

"I don't think I could ever be attracted to a woman," she says.

"Is that so," I ask, my eyebrow raising in amusement. She's a challenge waiting to happen and I'm more than happy to accept that challenge. She doesn't answer but looks skeptical. She's absolutely gorgeous to me - tall and curved in all the right places with cafe au' lait skin and dark hair. She's a spitfire with a mischievous streak but she's also got a surprisingly sensitive and self-conscious side to her. She carries herself as if she knows she's beautiful, but I catch moments of doubt in her dark eyes.

"Do you trust your body?" I ask her quietly.

Oh what a body it is. Long, lithe, strong arms and legs, ample curving hips and butt, and full, plump breasts with tantalizingly thick nipples whose shadows stand out visibly in the sweaters she likes to wear.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," I patiently explain, "do you trust what your body tells you? You've got an opinion formed from the thoughts in your head. Your brain and your mind tell you that you couldn't be attracted to a woman. For whatever reason, you think you couldn't be attracted to a woman. But, what if your body told you something different? Would you trust your body?"

She hesitates and her brow knits as she contemplates this question. "I don't know," she answers honestly.

"Are you willing to try?" I inquire. "Are you willing to give your body a chance to tell you what your mind might not yet know?"

---

She looks at me quizzically when I open the door. There's a masseuse's table draped in a dark maroon queen sized bed sheet in the otherwise empty room.

"Have you ever had a massage?"

She nods slowly and her eyes narrow as she searches my face.

"Good, so then you're familiar with the idea of undressing to your comfort level." I smile.

She's wary and my blood is racing. She's not afraid but she isn't quite sure what to expect yet. She nods, still not yet speaking.

"Before you undress, however," I continue quickly, "there are some rules we need to discuss."

"Rules?" she asks sharply. Her eyes dart from the table back to me quickly.

I smile. "Yes, all good interactions have rules. These rules are very simple. If you want me to continue, you say yes. If you want me to stop, you say no. Do you understand the rules?"

She looks at me for a long moment, not saying anything. I hear her taking long slow breaths. Slowly, she nods looking into my eyes.

I return her gaze and speak deliberately. "For the rules to work, you need to actually use the words." I pause for emphasis. "Do you understand the rules?"

"Yes," she says simply.

"Are you comfortable with idea of undressing to your comfort level?"

"Yes," she says.

"Good." I break the eye contact and move towards the, door. "Then please do so and lie down on the table, face down, and cover yourself, again to your comfort level with the sheet."

"What's going to happen?" she asks. Now there's a tentative note to her voice. She feels the control slipping out of her grasp and she's not sure when or how it will return.

I pause before closing the door. "Do you remember the rules?" I ask. My voice isn't sharp, but neither is it coddling.

"Yes..." she trails off.

"That's what will happen," I answer simply. "You have complete control. You can stop anything that happens at any moment. Feel free to make use of your control. We can always resume once you give consent."

I shut the door.

---

I knock gently on the door. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," comes the muffled response. I open the door. The maroon sheet comes midway up her back. She is lying face down on the table, her face in the cushioned cut out. She's still got her pink bra on and I'm sure there's a matching set of panties underneath the sheet. I smile. I knew she'd never get completely naked this quickly. But she's curious and the knowledge of that makes me shudder in anticipation.

"Are you undressed to your comfort level?" I ask, walking around the table. I set up a small folding table in the corner and lay a second sheet across it and a bottle of massage oil.

She breathes deeply and finally answers, "yes."

"I am going to use my hands and some light massage oil and will be touching your skin." The devil is in the details. I remember to take my time and not rush things. "Are you ok with that?" I inquire.

The dark skin of her arms breaks into gooseflesh and she can't suppress a slight shudder from running down her body. "Yes," she breathes. Her mind has clearly already started to play this out. I grin, wondering what her mind has had me doing to her in the few minutes I've been out of the room.

"Remember, if you say no, I stop. No questions, no explanations, I simply stop. We can discuss things after you say no, but the moment you say no, my hands go into the air. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she answers.

To acquaint her body with my touch, I let my fingertips alight gently on her exposed shoulder. I brush them across the back of her neck, and across to the rise of the other shoulder, smiling as the gooseflesh follows the trail of my fingertips. I caress the soft down of her hairline and run my fingertips around the delicate shell of her ear. She shudders again and her breath catches.

I'm going to uncover your back now," I murmur quietly near her ear. "Would you like me to continue?"

She swallows hard before she answers. "Yes," she whispers.

I draw the sheet back slowly, exposing the sweeping lines of her back, careful not to uncover the pink clad rise of panties that I glimpse underneath the soft dark sheet. Her skin is smooth and unblemished. There are softly defined ridges of muscle across her shoulders and down her spine. She's holding a lot of stress and tension in her shoulders and back.

"May I undo the clasp of your bra? I would like to have unimpeded access to your entire back."

She is silent for a moment. I wait patiently. After a full minute, she answers. "Yes."

Gently, I undo the clasp and part the straps. I do not remove the shoulder straps but simply allow the sides of the bra to part and give me full access to the smooth expanse of her back and shoulder blades. I coat my palms and fingers in the jasmine scented light massage oil. First rubbing my palms together to warm the oil, I spread the warmed oil across her light brown skin. I slide my thumbs down along the taut muscles and then splay my fingers across the flat planes of her torso, playing across the warmed skin. Gradually, she starts to relax under my hands. I slide them up to the back of her neck and stroke the tight tendons lightly. I slip my fingers under the pale pink straps of the bra and slide them outwards, very slowly, waiting to see if she will say anything. "May I slide the straps of your bra out of the way?"

By way of answer, she shrugs the strap over one shoulder. I don't touch her. She stops, realizing her omission. "Yes," she says quietly.

I reach over and help her slip her arms out of the bra without exposing herself. I massage her shoulders and neck firmly, and she eases back into relaxation under my ministrations. I let my fingertips brush along the side swell of her breast as I work down her arms to her sides. She stiffens slightly but says nothing. I work down to the narrowing of her waist, letting my fingertips play across the small of her back, dipping just under the edge of the sheet to lightly brush the satin edge of her panties. She gasps and I run my flat palms up the expanse of her back and knead her back and shoulders firmly, in safer territory.

The light perfume of the jasmine oil mixes with her own subtle scent - something near to sandalwood but lighter. I inhale deeply, enjoying the feel of her body under my hands, focusing on loosening the tension in her muscles. When I get to the small of her back, she sighs contentedly. I transition my hands to the sheet and stroke firmly down the outside of her thigh. She lies still, seeming to contemplate this change. My hands continue their transit up the back of her thigh and smoothly over the sheet and panty clad swell of her buttocks. As my hands broach the edge of the sheet, I tentatively slip my fingertips under the sheet edge and play them across the lace top of her panties.

"No," she croaks hoarsely.

My hands fly into the air and I step back from the table. I move to the head of the table and squat down. She raises her head a little bit and looks at me. I smile.

"This is where we discuss," I say. "You said no when I went under the sheet." She nods. "Do you want me to stay on top of the sheet when it comes to the area you kept covered?" I ask tactfully.

"Yes," she says. Her voice is still thick.

"Is that all?"

"Yes," she says again, nodding. She puts her face back into the cradle.

I gently place one hand on the small of her back, flesh touching flesh, and one hand on the back of the thigh closest to me, over the sheet. I reacquaint her to my touch slowly. My open palms caress the swell of her buttocks and thighs and she sighs again, relaxing into the sensation. I continue the caress down the length of her firm, long legs.

"May I lift the sheet to work on your legs?" I ask.

I see her body shift slightly as she flexes her legs and rotates her ankles. "Yes."

I lift the bottom of the sheet up and uncover her feet, and then calves, massaging them firmly as I work my way up. Her legs are strong and beautiful. The bands of muscles are smooth and taut. When I get the sheet worked up to her knees, I move back up and bring the top of the sheet midway up her back, so she doesn't feel too exposed. As my lightly oiled hands stroke and caress, I work the sheet up her thighs, firmly massaging their backs and sides but allowing my fingertips to lightly caress the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. Her legs are still close together and while she is relaxing, she still holds herself tightly. Slowly, the sheet is just covering her panties. I pay particular attention to the backs of her upper thighs and the tight tendons of her outer thighs. "I'd like to move the sheet up higher now," I state simply. "Is that ok?"

"Yes," she says.

I push the sheet up onto her lower back slowly, exposing the satin clad curves. "So lovely," I murmur, catching myself as she shifts her body. I fold the sheet neatly across her back and reach over to the folding table for the second sheet. I drape the second sheet gently across her lower legs so she doesn't get chilled. Starting with my palms on the outside of her hips, I move them slowly but firmly up and over the pink swells. I stroke the large muscles firmly and then squeeze each cheek slowly, gently parting them and then firmly caressing them back together. I slip my thumbs under the satin and stroke the muscular globes firmly. I hear her sigh faintly. I repeat the stroke but allow my thumbs to slip higher up over the crest of her ass and hips. I work the material down an inch over the expanse of her hips and she raises her hips slightly to accommodate the motion. "I'd like to remove these now," I croak. My voice is thick with desire but this moment is not mine, it is hers and it will go at her speed.

She lifts her hips in response but I keep my hands firmly against her sides until she finally answers, "Yes."

I slip the pink panties down her hips quickly but gently, the sheet slipping to the floor in my haste. I replace the sheet across her legs. Not losing contact with her flesh for long, I resume massaging the large muscles of her upper thighs and buttocks and then up into her lower back. Her skin is heated and is like warmed silk under my hands. As she relaxes, I notice the scent of her arousal over the jasmine. My heart skips a beat and I feel my own body responding. I slide the second sheet back off of her legs and recover her whole body with the first sheet. She wiggles a little, relaxing even more and enjoying the feeling of the soft cotton covering her now naked body. I slip my hands under the sheet and continue to touch her, gently caressing without hesitation. I let my hands roam freely over her, down the side curve of her breast, to her narrow waist, across a plump curvy cheek, down a thigh, back up her inner thigh. Her thighs part incrementally with each pass and I lightly feather across the sensitive flesh but move firmly away before they make intimate contact. Completing the circuit, I move to the other thigh and then up over the other cheek, hip, waist, ribs, and breast. I complete this slow, languorous circuit several times, listening for the small quiet noises of her relaxation and pleasure. Finally, I bring my hands back up to the back of her neck and shoulders.

"It's time to turn over onto your back now."

I explain how I will hold the sheet so she can flip over unexposed. She flips the discarded bra off the table as she changes position.

I have her scoot down the table so I can remove the face cradle. I slip a thin pillow under her head and a bolster under her knees. The muted light in the room makes her blink. "I'd like to shield your eyes," I say. I hold up a soft black sleeping eye mask.

"Yes," she says and I slip the band over her head and the soft mask over her eyes.

I keep the sheet pulled up to her shoulders and gently run my fingers across her collar bone, shoulders, and down her arms. I massage her upper pectoral muscles, letting my fingertips slip under the sheet and up the swell of her breasts. She makes no protest and her nipples stand out thick and erect under the sheet. I lick my lips but keep my fingers clear of those tantalizing peaks. Instead, I follow the curves around the sides and then down her ribs, careful not to inadvertently tickle her and make her jump. Sliding a hand across the plane and slight curve of her belly, I work the tension out of the intercostal muscles of the ribs and then down to her hips and fronts of her thighs. I follow the ridge of her hips into the tight groin tendons, and her thighs part, pulling the bolster up against her bottom as her knees spread to give me better access to the tight muscles.

The rich scent of her arousal is intoxicating. The pulse in her groin is fast and strong, despite her relaxation. I force myself to breathe deeply and calm my own heart. Of course, inhaling deeply makes me more acutely aware of the delicious woman laid out underneath my hands.

As I work the last vestiges of stress and tension out of her body, the movements of my hands under the sheet drag the top edge of the sheet down her body. I notice that the dark edge of her swollen nipples are visible. I close my eyes for a moment and make a decision. I tug purposefully on the sheet and then pause, exposing one dimpled and quite erect nipple. She takes a deep breath and holds it.

I swallow hard, probably audibly. I tug the sheet again and expose the other breast entirely. "God you are so lovely," I whisper, my self control at its end.

I lean over and breathe a warm breath across the nipple closest to me and she lets her breath out shakily.

"Should I continue?" I ask. I can't keep up the pretense of calm control anymore. I know she can hear the desire making ragged edges of my voice.

"Yes," comes the almost inaudible whisper.

I drag the sheet slowly down to her waist. With my palms cupping the outside of her breasts, I let my thumbs rise up and brush across both nipples. She arches under my hands and a moan escapes her parted lips. I squeeze lightly and then more firmly. I bring my thumbs against the flats of each index finger and roll the delicious nipples gently, which elicits another moan, this time louder.

I move to stand at the head of the table and drop down so my mouth is right by her ear. "I want to taste you now."

She bites her bottom lip and breathes her consent.

I lightly lick the delicate curve of her ear and then draw her earlobe between my teeth, grazing it gently. She shivers and the goose bumps rise all down her arms and breasts. I continue my exploration down the graceful curve of her neck and into the hollow of her collarbone. I kiss and lick and nibble around the swell of her breast, tactically avoiding her mouth watering nipple until I come around the sensitive underside and back up the swell.

I dart the tip of my tongue across the sensitive tip of her nipple and it immediately becomes even more turgid and swollen. She gasps audibly as I wrap my lips around it and envelop the entire peak into the warmth of my mouth. I suck the sensitive flesh hard and flick the tip of my tongue rapidly over the peak until she cries out. I roll the other nipple between thumb and forefinger and squeeze gently. Her fingers tangle in my hair as she pulls me against her, arching into my mouth.

I slip my hand down under the sheet and caress her inner thigh firmly. I can feel the damp heat radiating from her core. I kiss my way down her belly as my hand moves up and my fingers brush damp curls. I pause, and watch her face intently. She seems to realize why I am waiting.

She whispers something, barely audible. I don't move. She struggles to make her hoarse voice heard.

"Yes," she pants. "Yes."

I slip my fingers into her silken heat.