I saw this book on how to become a masseuse/masseur on my son David's desk and asked him about it.
"I just thought I might be able to pick up a few bucks giving massages. You do a lot, tuition is expensive, so I thought I could help out a bit by making some extra money." I certainly wasn't going to stop him from earning his own money. "I've already practically memorized the book, the only problem is that I have to find someone to actually massage, unless
you
wanna volunteer. I'll get the practice I need and you'll get free massages. Sound good?"
My ex-husband never gave massages, unless it was to the whores that he screwed around with during our marriage. And I certainly could use a good massage. "Sure. Why not?"
He didn't have a massage oil warmer, or massage oil for that matter, so later that evening he put a bottle of baby oil into some hot water that he'd just taken off the stove. A few minutes later, David asked if I was ready for my massage. Actually I had been looking forward to it all day.
"Yeah," I said.
"Alright. Uhhh...we don't have a massage table just yet, so we'll use your bed. Take your clothes off, wrap a small towel around your waist, lie on your bed and let me know when you're ready."
"You want me to take
all
my clothes off?"
"Of course. You don't give somebody a massage through their clothes, do you? If you went to a professional he'd tell you the same thing. Let me know when you're ready." I went upstairs. At no time did it occur to me that I wouldn't have any clothes on, but in retrospect it only makes sense. Neither did it occur to me that my young son would be touching my almost naked body. I changed and tried not to think about it. Then I laid on my stomach and called to David. A few moments later he came in.
"I downloaded some New Age music, the sound of waves on the beach, the rain forest, whales, some soft classical music. Which one do you want." I always loved the beach, so I told him to put that on.
"Take a few deep breaths and clear your mind. If your mind is tense, your body will always be tense no matter what
I
do." I forgot about my boss, my coworkers, my ex, everything, and tried to imagine I was lying on the sand at the shore. David, meanwhile, bent my lower leg back and started to massage one of my feet. The warmth from the oil on his hands penetrated deeply and the result was incredible. What walking, running and tight, uncomfortable shoes had done to my feet in the past thirty seven years was now disappearing within seconds.
After an all to brief amount of time spent on one foot, David began to massage the other. Then he went after my calf muscles and thigh muscles, one by one, kneading the baby oil into my flesh and working each portion of my legs until they achieved a state of relaxation I'd never experienced before.
"Alright so far?" he asked.
"Perfect," was the most accurate word to describe my current condition, but it was still an understatement. The warmth of the oil penetrated my back as my son's hands glided up my spine then down my sides. Or maybe it wasn't the oil. Maybe it was the heat generated by my own body as I became flushed from the physical pleasure I was receiving. All my ex ever focused on was my mouth, tits and pussy, but in the past few minutes I'd experienced more bodily gratification than any sexual encounter I'd ever had in my entire life. David's hands eased up to my shoulders and neck and I was intrigued as to how someone as strong as my son could impart such a gentle and tender caress. I decided then not to ruin the moment by overanalyzing it. I simply let myself enjoy what was happening.
"Let me get another towel," he said. He came back and placed it on the bed next to me. "Lie on your back and use that to cover up your...top." He turned around and I was more than half tempted to just throw the other towel away. I was even tempted to get rid of the one I was using to conceal my pussy. I'd never felt so in tune with my body before. I was no longer a drone for big business or a vote for some self-serving politician or a mortgage holder with debt and obligations. I felt like a free and carefree human being again and I didn't want to submit to the requisite covering on my body that society dictates. I wanted to feel free and natural.
But I covered my tits with the towel anyway. Civilization was still wielding its control over me.
"O.K." I said. David placed one of my hands on his shoulder and began to rub my arm up and down. I looked at him and cursed the fact that he was my son. If he was anybody else I would have pulled him down, shoved my tongue into his mouth, ripped the towel off and put his hands on my tits. He was a phenomenal masseur. He had removed virtually all the of tension that was created by stress. Unfortunately, he was replacing it all with sexual tension.
After he attended to my other arm and hand, he went to work on my throat. I always loved the feel of a man's hand on my throat. The idea of a man having the power of life and death over me. Or maybe my own sense of helplessness and being at the mercy of someone else...the whole rape fantasy thing. But even better was when my son began caressing my chest. He never went lower than the top of my tits, but I was still getting so aroused that I could feel some juice trickling out of my tingling pussy and slowly rolling down my thighs.
