Before I settle in and tell my little story, it may be prudent to tell you a little about myself. I was born Sarah Kathleen Montgomery forty something years ago. My upbringing was fairly normal, two loving parents and an older sister made a happy home. I did okay at school and graduated with a management degree in my early twenties. I've traveled extensively, and seeing the world has made me a better person for a whole lot of reasons. For the last seven years I've worked in a management position for a company involved in event promotions.
Physically I'm quite a big girl, tallish and wide shouldered from years of competitive swimming in my younger years. When I stand in front of that damned bathroom mirror, I see a lady with small breasts a narrow waist and a big round butt. My thighs and legs are shapely and strong, and probably my best attributes in a bathing suit or a pair of jeans. My brunette hair has got shorter as I've got older, much easier to hide the increasing number of grey hairs. These days, I've gone with the spiky untidy look with a few highlights. I guess I'm one of those women who need a little make up and nice clothes to even the odds a little.
When it comes to my sexuality, I'm straight but never been married. Mr Right just hasn't arrived, thrown a dozen red roses at my feet and presented me with an engagement ring the size of dinner plate. After losing my virginity at the age of eighteen, there have been a few men in my bed, but I'm not telling how many. The sex has always been one on one, none of that disgusting kinky three or foursomes stuff that people talk about. The fact that nobody's ever asked me to participate is completely irrelevant, but somewhat disappointing. The last man in my life was dispatched a few months back; he wanted to move to the next step, like move in with me. I was thinking of taking two steps backwards, like I think we should stop seeing each other which didn't go down too well. Since then, my sex life has consisted of a little selfish one on one with my vibrator while watching an adult DVD or two. While I like the close company of a man, I don't miss the after sex farting, snoring and the gooey mess they generally leave behind. In the last few years, the watching of adult DVD's has created a little voyeuristic interest, but it's one of those things that I thought would probably come to nothing.
These days, I'm resigned to the fact that I'll never marry, but that's because I'm now stubbornly selfish, and quite happy with my own company and space. In saying that, I've got lots of friends of both sexes and have a very healthy social life. I own a nice apartment in a good part of town; well if I'm going to be perfectly honest; the bank owns a good portion of it too. While I've got a good job with a reasonable income, financially things would be a little difficult without my little business on the side, which I'm just about to tell you all about.
I was introduced to the art of massage during my swimming years. There's nothing better than receiving a good massage by someone who really knows what they are doing. At the time, our assistant swimming coach could make our taut and tired bodies relax and most nagging pains disappear. About five years ago, I was looking for something to do in my spare time, like a hobby or something to keep the boredom at bay. I enrolled on a reputable massage course and enjoyed it tremendously. I worked hard and earned my qualification, and the certificate is now proudly displayed on my apartment wall.
At first, I just started out massaging friends, but through word of mouth got asked to do more and more. It's since turned out to a nice little business which I can run from home; I've set up a well equipped massage room in a spare bedroom which works out real well. My service started out with only women clients for obvious reasons. Men seem to think that a massage is all about a brief two second rub on the back and shoulders, and the rest is about sex. Maybe it is in some joints, but not mine.
I reckon most women are hardworking creatures no matter what they do, and really enjoy and deserve a little pampering. My massages last around an hour, they are firm but gentle, and worth every cent of the fifty bucks I ask for. By the time costs for hot showers, the cost of washing towels and the supply of oils I use, there's not a huge profit made, but it's enough to make it all worth while. I always finish with a facial, but not the sort that you're thinking of. I place a stool at the head of the massage table, and spend a good five minutes massaging the face with gentle and oiled fingers. The response is usually the same; my clients will usually fall into a dreamlike state as my fingers do their work. And as they hand over the fifty dollar fee, they usually book their next appointment. I usually manage five or six massages a week, and the extra money supplements a few luxuries like nice clothes and meals out with friends.
Most women are quite comfortable to be nude while I work; I have no preference either way. Myself, I usually wear a dark top and tracksuit pants, in the summer months I might consider shorts, as massaging is hot hard work. I suspect there are some men who think all this is highly erotic, but most of my clientele are aged between thirty and fifty five, and have gone through child birth. As one can imagine, I get my fair share of saggy boobs and bellies, cellulite, plus a few stretch marks to go with them. What I'm trying to say is; that I don't get a lot of blonde Swedish bimbo supermodels to massage.
At first I said no to massaging men, but a few clients asked if I would consider their husbands or partners. I've since relented a little, on the condition that the wives or girlfriend's remain in the room while I massage. I insist men have their navel area discreetly covered with a towel at all times, and it's not negotiable. I've installed a comfy chair and a few magazines in the room so that partners are comfortable while the other party is done. But in all, there are only a half dozen men that I do on a regular basis. Now as you can imagine, all this was innocent and above board, and so it was until Zoe Burnett came onto the scene.
Zoe found me by word of mouth, and we hit it off right from the start. She's one of those vibrant and vivacious people that demands fun out of life. Her longish hair was dyed jet black; her figure was lean and toned. While happily married, she considers that all men are a subspecies, and should be treated with the up-most contempt. Zoe and I had lots in common, fashion, music, movies, eating out and drinking, so the conversation during her massages was always robust and often hilarious. Especially if the issue of sex came up, which it often did once we got to know each other a little better. Zoe and her husband owned a successful consultancy, and she would often arrive with a nice bottle of red wine from their boardroom which we could empty without any problem at all.
I'd known Zoe for four months when she asked if I'd massage her husband. I was kind of disappointed in a way; mainly because I thought it would change the dynamics of our unusual friendship, but how could I say no. I talked her through all the conditions, which only made her grin, in hindsight, maybe I should've asked why?
Her husband Brett turned out to be a nice bit of eye candy. Not the type of guy that cause women to swoon at his feet, but the type of guy that a woman would cast a second look over when passing on the street and wonder a whole lot of things. He was tall, good looking and olive skinned; his hair a distinguished salt and pepper grey. He too was lean like his wife, on the massage table his body and limbs were well defined with muscle. I liked the faint splattering of chest hair and the thin dark line that ran down his navel.
Any assumption that it would be less fun with Brett around was quickly dispersed, for he was quick witted and downright cheeky. The three of us were soon having lots of laughs. And as much as they insulted each other, it was obvious that Zoe and Brett were very much in love, the sarcastic humour was just a big game. Right from the start I always massaged Zoe first and then Brett, she would just wait with a towel wrapped around her as I did him. Brett laughed the first time I gave Zoe a facial when he was in attendance, but funnily enough seemed to quite appreciate it when it was his turn. Zoe just looked over at him with some contempt and advised that these were the only facials she wanted in future, his reply was rather impolite. Anyway, the only real down side to Brett being there was the addition bottle of wine that was produced on arrival, for I was beginning to both anticipate and our little tipple.
I'd massaged Brett four or five times before the fun started. That night, Zoe was sitting back flicking through a woman's magazine and talking incessantly while I worked my way down Brett's back, shoulders and then his thighs, missing the bit in between. I got down to his ankles and then his feet, and then got him to turn over while I discreetly averted my eyes incase of any towel slippage.
Zoe watched with some interest as her husband carefully turned over.
"I wouldn't worry too much." she stated casually. "You haven't got much to hide."
Brett laughed, "Just shows what you do for me?"
Zoe smiled, "It's okay to insult me, but what about Sarah? Doesn't she do it for you either?"
"Don't worry about me." I replied. "Those stiff things are just a bloody nuisance in this business."
"Especially one as small and ugly as his." Zoe slipped in.
"You've never complained before." he replied in a mocking and sulky voice.
I just laughed and began working oil into Brett's chest, our eyes met and he smiled up at me.
"Take no notice of her; she likes to gang up on me when she gets a chance. I've never had any negative comments about my manhood. All I'll say is that I've got a nice one."
Zoe threw the magazine on the coffee table and glared up at me, "Sarah, don't you agree that the male sex organs are the ugliest things in the world?"
"Well, unfortunately, I haven't seen a huge number." I replied with some dignity.
"I'm not asking how many you've seen, I'm asking whether they're pretty or not."
I thought carefully about my answer while working on Brett's right shoulder and arm, "Well they're not exactly beautiful, but they certainly have their uses. They're kinda nice to have around in the right circumstances."
"Mmmmm, I suppose you're right." Zoe replied thoughtfully. "It's a pity they don't stay hard all the time. Then when you went to a party, you could tell who the best man was before you chose one to take home. Would save on lots of disappointments that way."
"That'd be no good; then all the girls would wanna take me home." Brett murmured.
Zoe sniggered, "Nope lover boy, you'd be last choice. It's a good thing you caught me when you did, otherwise you'd still be on the shelf."
As I finished working down Brett's shoulder, Zoe continued on the sex thing, talking about some of the good looking well hung hunks she'd spotted on the net. While it all sounds rather sordid, it was really quite funny with Zoe's personal little mannerisms chucked in. She went on to describe in some humorous detail what she'd like to do with one of those hunky men given half the chance. I eventually moved downward to Brett's upper thighs while making sure my hand didn't slip untoward under the towel and his privates. I have to say that Zoe had spectacular imagination, for she had both her husband and I entertained in her sordid stories.
I was working Brett's knee joints when I first noticed the towel over his navel began to rise. I watched with some despair as my first professional erection rose substantially high in the air. The next thing I know is that Brett's humming Bruce Springsteen's 'Dancing in the Dark' while making his erection dance under the towel.
Zoe looked at her husband with pure contempt and raised her eyes to mine.
"Just ignore him, he's just showing off. It'll go away soon."
But it didn't, and as I worked down Brett's legs, he continued to make his erection dance under the towel. And as much as I tried not to, my eyes were drawn to it. Eventually, Zoe got to her feet and approached the table.
"Sorry to put you through this Sarah, but if I don't do something about it, he'll make our lives a misery."
Zoe removed the towel and I got the first glimpse of Brett's thick long cock, it was a fine specimen with a large straight shaft and thick circumcised head. Zoe picked up the bottle of massage oil and dribbled some over his cock before taking him in hand; a large smile appeared on Brett's face.
