I left work and walked across the car park to the small massage therapist's room that was attached to the end of our building. After a stressful day at work, with customers and bosses yelling at me and demanding attention I felt drained, tired and tense. I popped my head around the door and saw Gail sitting at reception, a book of pencilled figures in her hands, glasses perched on her nose. She was in her early 40's, not unattractive for her age and slim, standing at about chin height. She had shoulder length blond her and a friendly and open face. A photo taken some years ago sat by her reception, of her, her husband and a young daughter and she was fairly attractive then. She owned and worked the small business herself. Age had taken away the striking, wolf whistle beauty, but left an honest, natural attractiveness. She looked up and smiled.
"Hi James, you look well and truly beat. Hard day?"
"Don't even ask. I just want to go home and forget it. I just came by to let you know I've closed everything else up. You're the last to go."
"No problems. Come hear a second. Let me do you a favour."
"Sure" I said. I sat down on her chair and she stood behind me and probed at my shoulder muscles with her fingers. As soon as she touched them the stress seemed to disappear. After thirty seconds she was done.
"Wow, that was awesome. How'd you do that?"
"It's easy. I hope it stays off your shoulders long enough for you to find some peace. Have a good night."
"Thanks, you too." I said and left.
But within days I was just as tense and I decided to employ her services again. I made an appointment with her after work, to get a neck and back massage. She gave me a cheap rate and left me feeling revitalised and refreshed. I began seeing her once a week, revelling in the way she revived me. Then a friend suggested I try a full body massage, said they were amazing. I felt a bit unsure about it but my friend explained that they were far from sexual, and were all about letting things soften and relax, "Not about getting things hard!", as she put it with a laugh. So, hesitantly, I decided to give it a shot.
"Okay, I'll be back in a few moments. Get undressed and make yourself comfortable." Gail said, and pressed play on a tiny, cheap black CD player in the corner.
Soft relaxing sounds of the beach drifted through the room as she slipped out and closed the door. I sat in a chair by the CD player and undid the laces in my polished black dress shoes and eased them off my feet. My socks came next, then I stood and pulled my blue polo top off and undid the button of my black pants and unzipped the fly. Stepping out of them I laid them over the chair and then pulled off my trunks and tossed them on top. It felt strange standing there naked in the small room, but it wasn't uncomfortable as the air was warm and the music relaxing and I was glad to be out of my work clothes. I grabbed the small white towel from the side table, folded in half as she'd told me and climbed up onto the massage table, twisting back to lay the towel over the cheeks of my arse and looking in the mirror directly behind me to make sure everything was covered. I saw I'd put it to high and that she would have been able to see quite a lot and, embarrassed at the thought, I adjusted it a lot lower. I then put my head face down into the hole in the table and closed my eyes.
Instantly I felt the stress begin to ebb from my mind, the music was having an amazing effect, but my muscles were still tense and I patiently waited for her to come back. I had begun to doze such was the power of the music when I heard a light rap on the door and a voice call out, "Are you all set in there Daniel?"
I snapped awake in an instant and called out in the affirmative. I was a little nervous at being virtually naked in the room with her, and hoped her attentions didn't cause anything to stir and embarrass myself. I'd never had a full body massage and had no idea of how they worked or what you were supposed to do. But I figured worrying was what had landed me on the table in the first place, that thinking too much was causing my stress so I thought I'd better just go with the flow.
She gently opened the door and closed it behind her. Efficiently she crossed to the table and took up a tube of some sort of oil. It was strong smelling, but not in an unpleasant way. I guessed it was some sort of specialist massage oil. She then squirted it into her hands and put the tube over my shoulders and added a little more. I felt a tingle as it slowly slid down my skin and followed my spine down to the base of my back, pooling slightly in the nook that was created by my back ending and the muscles of my arse rising.
My senses were heightened by the fact that I had my eyes closed and I could hear and feel everything, every little movement she made. The fabric of her clothes gently rubbed as she moved over my right shoulder and her hands made slick, wet noises as she expertly rubbed them together and went to work.
Her touch was amazing. She expertly went to work on all the muscles of my back, starting high up at my shoulders and neck and then slowly working her way down. Every muscle was grabbed and untied by her fingers and palms. She constantly commented every time she found a particularly tight area, concentrating on each as she found them and gently easing the tension and strain all over my naked back. It felt like I was melting into the table and I drifted away on a raft or relaxation, the sounds of the beach sending me on my way. I needed have worried about any concerns of my sexual arousal; I was too out of it to even think about that sort of pleasure.
Or so I thought. She ended that part of the massage by standing right by my head and putting a hand on either side of my body, gripping fairly tightly, thumbs at my back and fingers around the sides. She then used the lubrication of the oil to slide her hands slowly down each side, from up under my arm, down over my rib cage and down the sides of my stomach. But her fingers were long enough to reach a fair way around, all the way to my front and I felt a lightning response to her hands as she reach my stomach, sensitive in its nakedness, and then went further down to my hips and the towel placed over them. Despite the warmth of the air and the oil I could feel my skin stand on end, tiny goose bumps rising all over my bare flesh. She repeated it three times and each time the same response occurred. I was wide awake now and worried at how my body was reacting. I could feel my penis begin to swell and move. But after the three there were no more and she walked down to the end of the table, applying more oil to her hands before beginning to work my feet.
As I was face down, the soles of my feet were facing the ceiling and she began needing them with her thumbs. She applied a fair amount of pressure, pushing them hard up the middle of the soles. I'm a ticklish guy but in her hands my feet were obedient puppies, and the pressure was further relaxing my whole body. She worked the heels, the toes, the arches, everything, all the while I could hear the wet, slick sounds of her lubricated fingers working at my skin. I was lucky she had lubed up well as I think she would have pulled a fair few hairs out of my legs.
Up the ankles she went, loosening up the joints there before moving on up to my calf muscles. Here she spent a fair bit more time, kneading the think muscles like an olden day housewife kneaded dough. At each new part of my naked body that she'd begin to work, she would start off slow, getting the muscles warmed up before really attacking them and punishing the stress out of them.
My knees were the next to get her attention. She used her other fingers more, getting in and around my knee caps and using her thumbs to probe the soft part at the back. She'd now been working on my legs for about fifteen minutes and she was up to the meaty part, the long, broad, muscles of my thighs.
First she moved around the table to start on my right. Standing right by my arse, her hands barley inches from the cheeks, she went to work. Her hands were right where the towel ended and her workings actually started to move it. She wrapped both hands over the muscle then gently clenched her hands, almost fondling my right thigh. She'd clench and release, clench and release, getting the muscle soft, like putty in her hands. Then she started to knead it and this is when the towel started to move. Some of her techniques would cause a cheek to wobble and the towel would shift ever so slightly. It began to ride up and I could feel it, the new naked skin exposed as it felt the air. Centimetre by centimetre the right side of the towel came up until it was riding right on top of my arse, and I was sure the bottom of one of my cheeks was visible.