Im Loving It Ch 03

After Steve admitted he wanted to see me with Miko, he talked about it incessantly, mostly during sex. His fantasies about hiding in the closet and watching Miko with me turned us both on so much, and he liked me to talk about what I would do and what Miko would do to me. Steve's cock got so hard when we talked about it I could literally feel it swelling inside me, and whenever I talked about swallowing Miko's cum, Steve would cum. Almost like clockwork. He was so turned on by Miko cumming in my mouth that he couldn't stop himself.

But then what happened is, after cumming, Steve would back down from the fantasies and feel weird. "I don't really want to see that," he said multiple times after a Miko fantasy session. "Is his cock bigger than mine?" (No) "Let's just keep it in our fantasy play." (Okay, honey)

But later he'd get horny again and say, "I want to watch you suck Miko off. It's the only way I can get over the images bombarding my head." I didn't say anything about his two month affair with Sadie or how I could get over that. I certainly did not want to see them together, and I knew it wouldn't help me get over anything. Despite the fact that I'd gotten boned worse on the cheating than Steve did, I was more okay with it than he was. He couldn't seem to shake the fear that I was secretly lusting for Miko, and contacting him.

So our relationship stayed in this weird holding pattern for a week, circling around the Miko fantasy like a tide, creeping into shore and then flowing back out, leaving tide pools of arousal for us to wade through.

Miko texted me a few times, but I kept him at a distance. He tried writing sexy texts and normal 'whats up' texts, and I kept my answers brief, giving him nothing to respond to. Finally after days of this Miko asked me point blank 'So I feel kinda like you played me, Rorie. Was I some rebound? Cuz we used to be friends.'

I was at work when I got this, with a half hour window between massage clients at the gym, and then I had to go to my private studio for one of my own clients. Steve knew I wouldn't be getting home until about 7 pm tonight, which gave me a bit of time to gently explain the situation to Miko. I wrote back, 'No didn't play you. I had a great time but I can't repeat it now. Steve and I are working things out.'

'got it,' he texted back. 'sry to bother you then'

Now I could tell I'd hurt his feelings. I could've left it at this, but it would've gnawed away at me. 'I really enjoyed what happened with you Miko.' I paused. I wanted to tell him about all the fantasies Steve and I had been having about him, but then I would be betraying Steve. I continued writing, 'I just want you to know I'm not rejecting you. At this time I just can't be with two guys, and I'm going to see where this leads with Steve.'

A few minutes passed before my phone dinged again. I eagerly grabbed it and was disappointed with Miko's glib response 'roger that'.

Stacy, one of the young girls working at the front desk, must've noticed something in my face or mannerisms. "Somebody's getting hot sexting!" she chided, totally misreading the situation.

I smiled at her, trying to play it off, even though I was bothered by Miko's lack of understanding. "My boyfriend," I lied, forcing a sassy grin.

Then I told the desk girls I had to get the room ready, and asked them to send the client back when he got here. I'd already prepared the room, I just needed to get away from them and not be scrutinized by gossipy bitches. I hated working at the health club, but until my own business caught on I was stuck doing this. The pay was shitty and a lot of people didn't tip very well because they were members of the gym and felt like they shouldn't have to. The soldiers from the base generally tipped pretty well, and so did the rich people with lake houses on Ontario, so I hoped my client was one of them.

"He" turned out to be a she; I hadn't even checked my schedule for the day, or I would've known it was Tamara, one of my regulars!

"Boy am I glad to see you!" I said.

She beamed at me. "Not as glad as I am to see you!" she said. "I'm the one getting the massage you know." She laughed and looked seriously at me. "Girl, I can see you've got something on your mind. Spill it! God knows I'm always spewing my guts out to you."

It was true. Tamara was one of those feisty, wild, smart women who works in a bar and has no fear. She's been coming to me for six months and hasn't booked with any other therapists since we met. I'm practically her psychologist and confidante as she navigates the wounded, hectic mess she calls a love life.

"Okay, I'll give you a few minutes to get undressed and get under the sheet," I tell her.

"Fuck it!" she says, pulling her sports bra over her head to reveal a gorgeous pair of D cups, with large, prominent nipples. I laugh, and she doesn't miss a beat, just kicks off her shoes then pulls her lycra shorts and panties down in one motion. I wasn't prepared for this at all, although I also wasn't really surprised. She's got a sexy body, with a neatly trimmed blond bush.

Tamara sees me looking at her body and squeezes her boobs. "These make me so much money, and all I have to do is show them off to drunk guys at the bar!" She laughs and does a little twirl. "It's not like you haven't seen me naked a hundred times, right?"

"Sure," I laugh. "I see naked people all day. As long as you're comfortable."

She flops herself onto the massage table, on top of the sheet, facedown, and then wiggles up to put her face in the cradle. Her voluptuous ass shakes pleasantly as she does this. She has a pleasing body to look at. I've had a few experiences with women in my life, though it's not my main passion.

"Ummm, do you want to get under the sheet?" I ask.

"Nah, I'm too hot from the shower. I'd like to cool off."

She's never done this before, and I wonder if she's flirting with me. I start warming her up with long effleurage strokes around her trapezius, infraspinatus, and rhomboids, which are parts of her upper back, where Tamara holds a lot of tension. She moans and relaxes for me with a heavy sigh. Then she says, "So, Aura, tell me what's going on? You've obviously gotten something bothering you."

I make sure to stay focused on her body and what I'm doing. There's a massive difference between massaging with intention and massaging while distracted. I've actually had therapists massage me while talking, and it was clear they were distracted and not actually attending to my body's needs. I've even had a dentist yacking away and not paying attention to what she was doing with sharp objects in my mouth!

Once I'm in a meditative zone and connected to Tamara's body, I can talk. I tell her about Steve's cheating and my cheating with Miko, and how Steve got really turned on by it, and how he's waffling between me doing it and not doing it. Then I tell her about blowing off Miko and how he's got hurt feelings now.

Tamara bursts out laughing and says, "Oh my god, Aura, you're a hot fuckin' mess! It's kinda hilarious." I'm doing petrisagge on her traps at this point and I jab her in a trigger point. "Ow, hahaha why'd you do that?" she asks.

"Because it's funny," I snark back. "Why'd you laugh at my pain?" I try to sound light, but I actually felt a little snubbed by her response, except irreverence is also one of the qualities I love in Tamara.

"Aww, sweety, listen: don't let men rile you up ever, okay? First off, you don't owe Miko anything. He got his dick sucked, he should consider himself lucky, and he needs to respect the fact that you're in a relationship and your partner comes first. He should also quit thinking selfishly, and appreciate your honesty and loyalty to your partner."

I really couldn't argue with her, and I liked how matter-of-fact she was. "Okay," I said, "the bigger question is what do you think about Steve? I mean, he wants to hide in the closet and watch me suck off this other guy. That isn't normal. And he doesn't seem like he really wants it—more like he's trying to talk himself into it."

"Aura you're overthinking this way too much. Fuck normal, first off. Who cares what's normal—are we still trapped in high school? Let him whack off in the closet if that's what gives him his jollies. Maybe Steve is bi?"

I shake my head and then realize she can't see me. "No, he's not into guys. He's into me being a slut."

"That's about the best quality a boyfriend can have, if you ask me," Tamara said, giggling. "It's like a free pass to have fun whenever you want. So what's the problem?"

Her attitude was so simplistic, but I couldn't argue with her. I was under no pressure to do anything except be myself and enjoy whatever I wanted to enjoy. Steve hadn't even asked me to be with another girl. He really hadn't asked much about what I felt or thought, because he seemed consumed with his own emotions: both his insecurity, and his arousal for what I did to Miko.

I told her, "I guess the problem is really that things feel really good right now, but it's almost as if it's only good because our sex life is orbiting this fantasy he's having. I don't feel like it's about me, as much as I feel like he's objectifying me. We've had more sex in the last week than we had in three months combined!"

"Okaaaaay," Tamara drags the word out like she doesn't understand the problem. "So, is the sex good?"

"Yeah, it's great."

"Just let him have his fun, then, and don't take it personally."

"How can I not take it personally? Even when I'm talking about Miko fantasies, I'm still with Steve and turned on by Steve. It's like he's just lost in the fantasy and my body is just his blow up doll!"

Tamara laughs. "So be his blow up doll for awhile and enjoy it, who cares? Guys are horndogs. They can't control it. Just accept their nature and love it for what it is. It's not like every minute of sex has to be flowers and lovemaking. Be dirty, enjoy it. Turn the tables on him and make him your object. You control the fantasy, so own it and make it be what you want."

I thought about that, and it was a good idea. "I wasn't saying I want it all to be romantic," I told her, as my hands worked their way into her glutes. It felt really weird massaging a naked person who wasn't under the sheet. I could see her whole body, and her ass jiggling from my motion. Her legs were even open a little, and when I moved around her, I could actually see her vagina lips. I appreciated how pretty her body was beneath my hands, and decided I enjoyed having no sheet, as strange as it was. If it was a naked man on my table, I think it would've felt a lot more awkward. But a woman feels like a beautiful, unthreatening creature made of soft, inviting curves, just here to be pretty and be enjoyed. There's no aggression or boners or crazy maleness to disrupt things.

"Just let it be filthy," Tamara says. "Follow his lead for awhile and see where it takes you. If you don't like the direction, you can either tell him that or cut him loose."

She was right. There really wasn't anything more for me to complain about. And I didn't want to be that self-pitying whiny girl who goes on and on about herself, so I changed the subject and asked how her guy situation had been since we last saw each other. Tamara was fucking two guys on and off—one she'd met at her bar, and one she'd met at a bar down the road.

"Nothing new," she said. "I like them both and neither one stands out enough to make me cut the other loose. Also neither one stands out as boyfriend material, so we're just having fun."

She was moaning her approval a lot as I massaged her butt and upper thighs, while she told me the differences between these men. One was a really arrogant, aggressive, player type. She said he wasn't half as good in bed as he thought he was, but he was funny and fun to hang out with and waste time. The other was an insecure musician guy who was really sweet and sensual, and he wrote songs about her and was just crazy about her in general. She was afraid she was going to break his heart.

"Aren't musicians normally the heartbreakers?" I asked, swearing I could smell musky arousal from her pussy as I worked on her hamstrings. I furtively looked at her labia, feeling shy even though there was no way for her to catch me, (short of her head spinning around like Linda Blair in The Exorcist)! I couldn't see any glistening wetness there, though I admit I felt like running a finger between her lips and just seeing if she was excited. I couldn't do that, though; it was totally unprofessional and could cost me my job, my license, and this budding friendship.

"Not this musician—he's the heartbroken type. Mmmmm, right there," she said breathily as I worked her adductors and gracilis. These muscles are in the front of the body, so I was reaching between her legs to pinch and knead them. They were also, geographically speaking, as close to her vagina as I could get. I wasn't teasing her on purpose, this was a good angle to work on this muscle group from, but it seemed I'd really gotten her turned on because she was ever so slightly rocking her pelvis while I massaged.

Again, I had the fantasy of touching her pussy, and because I was distracted, the edge of my pinky actually brushed against her pussy.

"Oooooh," she moaned.

"Sorry," I said.

"No, I liked that," she said.

I knew I couldn't let myself cross this line, but I did let my pinky brush a little harder against her labia again as I massaged her adductors. She moaned again, and my finger came away with a little wetness on it.

My heart raced with excitement. This moment was so thrilling I wanted to throw caution to the wind and go for it. Her skin was luscious beneath my hands, and her butt was clenching beautifully as she wiggled her pelvis back and forth. Tamara and I had always been affectionate and told each other how pretty we were, but this was really taking things a lot further. And I couldn't do it. I wondered if I was blowing an opportunity that I would regret.

I leaned my lips down to her ear and whispered, "I can't do this here."

"Ohhh please, you can do it," she said. "I give you permission to touch me everywhere."

"I can't sweety. We're at the gym and I could lose my license. I'd be happy to give you a private massage at my office, though."

"Oh no no no, here, now," she said, raising her head from the cradle. "I need you to touch me." She lunged toward me, and I let her take my lips between hers and kiss them. Her lips were so soft and gentle, and I felt my own arousal surging inside of my chest. I wanted her so badly. We kissed hungrily for a few seconds, her tongue slipping along my lip and into my mouth, tentatively exploring each other. I pulled away first.

"I want this too, but you know I can't," I said.

"Okay," she said. "I understand."

I continued the massage and Tamara kept undulating. She slipped one hand between her legs and began touching herself. I continued my massage with professionalism, working my way down her legs, as this gorgeous woman writhed and worked herself into an orgasm in less than two minutes. What I saw was her hand working fast circles on her clit while her hips moved in time, and then she froze for a second as if she'd stopped, let out a deep hissing sigh, and suddenly her entire body was spasming all over. I could feel her legs shaking as she came, and I noticed a wet stain beneath the sheet where she'd leaked all over it. Her pussy was sopping wet and the hair was glistening, and I could smell her sex like intense, earthy perfume, which made me want to taste her.

I can't pull my eyes away from this beautiful sight. I'd never seen anything like it, such carnal innocence and beauty dancing together. I'd always felt like massage and sex should go hand in hand, but I also knew that the laws are what they are, and there are lines I cannot cross. If I lose my license, I go back to being nothing, slaving away for tips in some restaurant, or trying to work my way up in retail. The thought of either is utter hell to me.

Soon Tamara flips onto her back, I put a towel under her neck, and we are all smiles, our eyes beaming at each other. We share a look of mutual satisfaction and appreciation that lasts for several long moments, and then her eyes slowly close.

I let my eyes trace her exquisite body, softness and fleshy curves flowing so nicely together as her boobs bow to her waist and then her waist flourishes into voluptuous hips and thighs. What a lovely work of art she is! I begin working on her face, draining her sinuses, which I can hear from her breathing are swollen. The pressure of laying face down on the face cradle does that to most people.

After the face, I begin working her scalp, which sends her drifting off to sleep. I finish the massage barely able to contain my own excitement and wetness. I can't take my eyes off her beautiful body. Would it be cheating for she and I to hook up? I'd already basically promised it to her, but I hadn't gotten Steve's permission. I needed to ask him when I got home.

Tamara gave me a hug and a tongue kiss before she left. After she closed the door, I poured some lavender massage oil onto the sheets where her juices had soaked in. I didn't want the laundry people getting any ideas about what went on in here.

When I checked out at the front desk, I saw that she'd left me a $40 tip!

"You must've done something right!" Stacy said. I didn't know if she was implying anything, I just kept an even face and smiled.

"I guess I fixed her achy spots," I said.

"Everyone says you're the best here," Stacy said. "What you just got tipped is what I make in five hours here. Maybe I need to go to massage school!"

"She Is the best," the other desk worker, Liz, said. She'd gotten a massage from me before.

I blushed. "Aww thanks," I told her. "I'm not that good."

I headed over to the office and massaged a guy who was one of my regulars. He's a big guy who needs deep tissue massage, and it really wears me out to get into his muscles. It was the opposite of massaging Tamara, and I felt no attraction for him, which is normal. He tipped $10, and then I headed home.

Steve had cooked an elegant dinner for me, which took me by surprise. It was salmon in a garlic, white wine sauce with lemon, and slightly over-cooked asparagus around the side. I felt a surge of love for him at the sweet gesture, and we ate and laughed and had fun. As we were nearing the end of our meal, I told him about Tamara getting turned on during her massage.

"That's super hot," he said. "You could actually smell her pussy?"

"Yes!" I said. "It was hot. I actually told her I wouldn't mind giving her a private massage later and touching her all over."

"Oh my god!" Steve said. "I really wanna see that!"

"Yeah?" I said. "Okay, I'll ask her if you can be there."

"You mean you didn't tell her I would be there?"

"Well, it just didn't come up. We were sorta lost in a moment together, and to be honest, guys were nowhere on our minds."

He looked a little bummed at that. "Oh. I understand." He paused, and I could see his mind working on something. Then he looked at me and said, "If I can't be there I don't want you to hook up with her. I mean, she doesn't have to do anything with me, but I want to at least be able to watch."

Ahh, he was jealous. I understood why, but it kind of put a damper on the whole excitement I'd been feeling with Tamara. What was flowing between she and I was just ours, and I didn't really feel like a guy belonged there. I'm sure she wouldn't want a guy there either. That would definitely change the dynamic and make it all about him and less about us exploring each other.

"Okay," I said. "Although I don't think she will want a guy there."