Her First Visit
It was hot and humid, and for some reason, that always turned her on. Maybe it was acres of sweaty flesh everywhere she looked; maybe it was because she didn't have to wear as many clothes. She liked the way her tits moved around under her light sari. Judging from the looks she was getting, so did most of the men she encountered.
She and hubby had decided they needed a break from work, so they had asked for sabbaticals. Two months to rest and recuperate, to enjoy the sun and warmth in another part of the world. Couldn't get much better than palm trees, friendly locals and weekly massages.
They had seen it yesterday, and it was exactly what they were looking for. A quiet little place on a side street, catering to tourists, offering 'couples massage'. They had dropped in to book a session, pleased to see how clean it was, right down to a quick health check.
And now they were coming for their first visit. The two women who ran the place greeted them with big smiles. When Heather saw them, there was a bit of a tingle. She sometimes thought like a guy, and she liked their slim, hard bodies. Aum was older, maybe 30, and Sai was in her mid-twenties. Aum seemed to be the boss, and she took over immediately. "I lady," she said, smiling. She pointed to the other masseuse, "She do boy," and that was that.
There were two cubicles, divided by a sliding rattan screen. Even though it was supposed to be a 'couples massage', Heather was secretly glad when Aum pulled the divider closed; it was more relaxing not worrying what you looked like when someone worked your body.
Aum said "On table." Heather hesitated, but before she could even ask the question, Aum added, "No clothes. On belly."
That took care of things. Different places had different rules; here, it was as simple as 'no clothes, on belly'. While Aum prepared the oil, Heather slipped out of her sari and panties, and lay face down on the massage table. She loved everything about massages, the feel of hands on skin, her muscles turning to liquid, the utter relaxation. She listened to the music playing in the background, a restful white noise of exotic Asian melodies.
Five minutes in, Aum said "I like you. Others fat. You small, like me."
It was so casual and honest that Heather laughed. And she was pleased with the remark. She was slim, trim and proud that at 33, she weighed the same as she did as a teenager. Aum, though, was even slimmer, supple and lithe in that sexy Asian way of hers. And judging by the way her colorful sari caught her nipples, cute little boobs, too. Heather caught herself. She was here for a massage, not to fantasize. Much.
Aum's hands glided over her, oiled and knowing. She was surprisingly strong for such a tiny woman, digging deep into her flesh. Heather admonished herself at the pleasure she felt as her boobs pressed into the table. Did everything have to have sexual overtones? Sure, just because she was lying here, naked, a stranger's hands on her body, nothing to it, right?
She felt Aum's hands on her back, pressing into her. Up to her shoulder blades, memorizing the terrain, then back down again. The woman prodded and pushed, and slowly Heather sank into the liquid relaxation of the massage. Her hands slid onto Heather's ass, squeezing, and just as quickly they were gone, trailing down her thighs, but then they came back. Aum knew what she was doing, that was obvious, but was it a massage, or was it more?
Then Aum said, "You over." Heather hesitated for a second, then turned over. What to hell, those were the rules.
As she settled back, she wondered what Aum thought of her body. Even though she was 'small, like me' as Aum had said, her tits weren't. Not huge, but big enough to play with, and not as firm as you'd expect on someone her age. Flat, hard abs, and then those loose tits sliding around on her torso. Didn't bother guys; they all seem to like them a little loose. Of course, most guys didn't care one way or the other: loose, firm, big, small- guys loved tits, didn't they?
So the fact that she was lying there naked didn't really matter. Although she also wondered what Aum thought of her bald pussy. She liked keeping in shape, and had decided that a shaved pussy was part of the look. She remembered the looks of arousal on the faces of the guys at the reunion when they first saw her. So what did Aum think?
The masseuse went to work on her legs, pulling the muscles, working upwards. Back down to her ankles and then up again, to her thighs, hands circling almost sensuously. Heather was no longer floating in the moment; she was acutely aware of Aum's hands, trailing over her abdomen, even lightly skimming her pussy once or twice.
Heather felt the massage coming to an end, and she was totally relaxed. Aum moved to the head of the table and leaned over her. Nice scent from her sari, and the woman worked her oiled hands into her shoulders, then slid down along Heather's arms. She crossed over to her belly, and worked her abs a bit. Then Aum brought her hands up, right onto Heather's tits. Not an accidental brush; she squeezed gently, pulling her nipples, 'massaging' her tits for a full minute.
When her nipples were rock hard, Aum said, "For husband", with a little giggle. Then, "Is over."
Heather lay there as Aum tidied up. She was flushed, and she was aroused. On the other side of the divider, she could hear hubby's session wrapping up, too, but she wasn't quite ready to join him. She rolled off the table and slipped into her sari, wondering if her arousal was obvious.
In the small office, both women were as professional as always. It was as if the grope had never happened, and Heather realized that maybe she was making a cultural judgment. It was just the tail end of the massage, and maybe it was related to Aum's obvious appreciation of Heather's trim body.
When Aum asked, "See you for next time?", Heather was glad that hubby piped up with a "Yes", because she didn't trust her voice. He obviously had enjoyed his massage, and tipped generously.
His First Visit
When Heather suggested they book a massage, he was more than happy to oblige. He knew from experience that not all massages were created equal.
He had once tried a place offering 'one-on-one attention', not really knowing what to expect. And- wow: Mae-Ling, pretty, slim, and very sexy. There was no pretense involved - instead of a massage table, there was a bed with clean sheets, and by the time he had stripped, she was waiting, totally naked. They ended up on the bed, but to his surprise, she didn't mind just chatting for awhile, which was sort of fun. Then he had explored her body, her tits, her soft skin, and when he got to her pussy, he found out that she was dripping, as aroused as he was.
She sucked him for awhile, then quite expertly slipped a condom on and let him slide into her. At one point she squatted over him, supporting herself with her hands on her knees. She was facing him, wide open so that he could see it all, his cock sliding in and out of her exquisite and very wet pussy. It had been a very satisfying 'massage'.
And now he had high hopes for another satisfying massage. He had seen a dozen Mae-Lings on the street; maybe one of them would be working in the massage place.
It was good from the very start, the place clean and obviously well-kept. Two slender, diminutive women greeted them. The older one assigned herself to Heather, which left the other one to him. Her name was Sai, and she was a pretty little thing, with a sparkle in her eyes. Like Mae-Ling.
There were two adjoining cubicles, but without much fanfare, Heather's masseuse pulled the divider closed, which was okay with him. Sai saw his expression, and nodded toward the divider. "She do girl. I do boy," she said, then "On table."
She made a 'clothes off' gesture with her hands. He wasn't shy, so he thought 'what to hell'. He stripped, aware of Sai watching, then he climbed up onto the table and lay face down. For the first time, he was aware of the soothing music wrapped like a curtain around them. Sai leaned in and he felt her hands pressing into his flesh. Ahh, that's what he was after, mostly. Well, partly.
She was good, and slowly any thoughts of other massages faded as he almost fell asleep under her touch. After a few minutes, she prodded him, clearly waiting for him to turn over. He did, trying not to think of past massages.
Warm oil on his stomach, then her hands slid up to his shoulders. Then she started in on his legs, but the higher she went, the more his thoughts wandered. He wondered if there would be incidental contact, maybe her forearm pressing his cock as it had on another massage table. The thought had obvious consequence, and he felt himself stiffen up.
Then Sai slid her oiled hands onto his balls. He inhaled sharply, and she giggled. If he thought she would move on, he was wrong. She started to gently massage him, soft hands caressing his balls. The effect of her delicate fingers was obvious; his cock started to rise.
Her hands moved again, right onto his cock. No pretense, no accident: she wrapped both hands around his meat and started to pump up and down. Her palm came around to caress the head, then back down onto his shaft. Usually, he was pretty good with these things, but the suddenness of her actions, and the delicate touch of her fingers was too much.
He started to come, and one of her hands dropped back to his balls, gently squeezing. She slowly, expertly milked him, cum mixing with oil. And she knew exactly when to stop. He lay catching his breath, one of her hands wrapped delicately around his cock, the other cupping his balls. He opened his eyes and looked at her; she raised an eyebrow. The back of her hands were covered with cum, and there was a bit on her forearm. He glanced at the divider; she caught his eye and shook her head, grinning. No one had heard him.
She rinsed in a small bowl of water, then turned back to him and started the massage again. He realized that she had jerked him off to get it done with, and now the real massage - at least the therapeutic part of it -could start. For the rest of the session she worked her magic on his other muscles, and when she was done, he lay totally relaxed, almost flaccid. So to speak.
Back in the tiny office, he tried not to show his bliss. A tip, that was for sure, and when the other woman ended it with "See you for next time?" he agreed, as casually as he could.
