His hands were so good, strong, firm but soothing, the tension in her neck and back dissipating. Every year was the same, rushing to get things perfect to keep her husband's paranoia at bay. Her sister trying to avoid her obligations again, and this year keeping secrets, that wasn't allowed in their relationship. The girls trying her patience with the bikinis and the demands for a pool party. Then there were the relatives, his side as well as hers.
That tension began creeping back, as she began replaying the three arguments, she had had this morning alone. Ted, wittering on about the pool and where the warmest spot would be, then accusing her of not buying enough food, just because he hadn't looked properly for the burgers and sausages. The twins insisting on the slut-cut bikini bottoms, the bikini tops were bad enough but at least they covered more flesh. She wasn't a prude, but the neighbours would be there, most of them were middle aged blokes who would have heart failure and/or solid boners.
Somehow, her son Tony managed to placate Ted and his sisters without too much trouble. Ted had his supplies of heart clogging red-meat to burn on the barbeque and the girls compromised by wearing beach shorts over their bottoms.
Then there was her sister, at least she arrived on time for once to help, recently she had been late for their daily gym and yoga classes, turning up looking washed out. Then she initially refused to take her turn fending off the advances of John, saying she didn't feel like it. There had been no way she would avoid it for a third year in a row, it was her fault he thought he could get away with it, so at least that one got settled without Tony's intervention. Still, that hadn't been all her sister had done to cause her worry, why had she needed to tell her today, it could have been left until tomorrow, another day wouldn't have meant anything different.
She heard his voice telling her softly to empty her mind, it was a soft lilting voice complimenting the massaging strokes of his hands. She let go of her thoughts, and felt the renewed tension melt away to be replaced with something akin to pleasure, sensual pleasure. Semi-naked face down on a bed a man straddling her body, being soothed by his hands and voice, this was worth the risk of embarrassment if anyone found them, a wonderful thirty minutes away from all the noise and forced conversations. She now wondered why she had been so reluctant to sneak away from the party, if anyone did find them, she wouldn't get the blame anyway, that thought left a contented smirk on her face.
There had been that moment of embarrassed discomfort when he had deftly slipped her sun dress off her shoulders, then equally deftly unclasped her bra, as he instructed her to lie face down on the towel spread over his bed, before he went to get the massage oils. She had been free to remove the bra without showing him her tits and settle on the towel before he returned. She briefly wondered if he would have been so relaxed if he realised, she wasn't quite who he thought her to be.
The noise outside seemed to change to a rhythmic chanting but fade into the background at the same time as she relaxed, closed her eyes, and enjoyed the sensations flowing from his touch. It felt like he knew exactly how to handle her, where to be firm, where to be gentle, this was so much better than the girl at the Spa last weekend.
His face had moved close to hers; she could feel the warm breath on her cheek and neck as he spoke softly. He had asked her something, it didn't quite register as she concentrated on the pleasurable warmth spreading through her from the massage. She nodded and murmured ascent regardless of the question, at this moment he could do anything he wanted. She felt the bed move as he shifted position further down her body, then he stretched over her, his hands returned to her neck, then shoulders, down her arms, returned before descending in longer strokes down the full length of her spine.
She let out a murmur of contentment, as those hands glided back along her sides, fingers brushing fleetingly her side-boobs, sensual, not groping like most men would. The longer he reached the closer his torso came to her back; she could feel his warmth. His breath on her neck again fleeting, then his hands repeated their journey over her upper body, she heard her own sigh. This man would make any woman want more, if only they weren't who they were, she might roll over and let him massage her breasts.
That thought gave her an involuntary shiver and a throb down where it shouldn't be. Much more of this and she would need to ask him to give her a few minutes 'alone' time. Another smirk, if she was feeling this good in such a short session, she wondered what his female clients would want, maybe even get, another shudder.
She forced herself to ask, "How much longer have we got before we're missed?"
The reassuring, lilting voice, responded, "As long as you need!"
The long stroke down her back slipped lower over her buttocks, a gentle clasp then back along her sides. She pressed her legs together to halt the new throb, but it made it worse, so she spread them apart again bumping against his knees. I need to stop this or he'll witness something he should never see, or hear and probably feel. Her mouth opened only to sigh as his torso made contact, lightly sliding over her upper back, she was sure she could feel his nipples graze her skin, her own were now extended pressing into the towel below her.
She was sure he knew the affect this was having; he just didn't know on who. Then through the fog of pleasure a nasty, kinky thought came into her head. He knows exactly how to make her feel this way, he has been practising on an exact copy of her body. In fact, as far as he knows this is the body he is used to, and she is the copy.
He lifted her arms above her head, kissed her neck lightly, he shifted one leg between hers and she felt her legs gently nudged apart. Another movement and he no longer straddled her but knelt between her spread legs. His body stretched over her, the skin-to-skin contact firmer, only the massage oil easing the motion, then pressure against her buttocks. She knew what was causing that pressure, she knew she must stop this now, it felt heavy and solid against the lacy cloth of her knickers. It lifted, she sighed, relief and disappointment, sprang to her mind, more disappointment if she was being truthful.
Her sister probably encouraged this little game getting her thrills, leading him to the edge, but how did she stop herself crossing the line? They were always teasing each other, but she would stop it if he got too revved up.
He's just playing his part in her sister's game, still it's not her fault either that he's got her worked up, no, if her husband was only a proper husband, the thought melted, contact again firmer, his hips grinding, her buttocks squirmed. Was it him trying to find a way through the cloth or she trying to capture him? How can she stop this without awkward questions, who controls this game?
Stop she said, but not out loud, only a grunt, then a groan escaped her lips, a grunt which she translated as,
Her internal voice pleading, "Please I want it, now, and I want it deep."
Did he understand her bitch in heat noises? Most probably, he was a natural seducer, she could feel that confidence from his first touch. The gentle one-handed grip on her wrists held above her head, the other hand snaking between their bodies, all it would take was a quick tug of thin material to one side and a thrust, that's all.
A groan, "Do it!" she said in her head, another longer groan and a moan as his fingers caught the edge of the material,
The voice in her head screaming, "In, push it in, don't be gentle!"
A squeal, a scream, a crash, raised voices, swearing, more screaming coming through the bedroom window.
"What the fuck is that?" she heard him say, as reality kicked in, his body lifting from hers.
"Bollocks," he moaned, "We better get dressed and get down there!"
She opened her eyes, at first focusing only on the thick tube sticking up and out from his groin, then scanning the rest of his taut body. Her mind registering, a tattoo, a pair of cherries, on the left side of his groin.
"Come on," he insisted, pulling up shorts, tucking himself away from her lingering gaze, "It looks like someone's fighting down there!"
Shocked out of her inertia, she rolled off the bed and grabbed her dress, her breasts swinging in full view. Ignoring her bra, she rapidly shrugged the dress on, fumbling as she buttoned the top, her nipples still aching, forming obvious points through the material.
"I'll go down first," he said, checking the hallway, "Follow as soon as possible."
She watched him go as she bent to find her sandals, 'He was going to do it, he was going to push himself into me, his thick cock, his heavy balls!' the thoughts came to her, as she struggled with the straps on her sandals.
'He would have taken me,' she mused, then stood finally, 'I would have let him, I was about to beg him!'
"Concentrate," she said out loud to no one, then the thoughts struck her, her sister has used him, she has felt him inside her!
She swayed reached out to steady herself on the doorframe, more shouts from the garden, she needed to move, stop thinking and compose yourself.
Lifting the hem of the dress, she slipped a finger under the leg of her knickers and eased the material out of her bum-crack, sticky wetness coated her finger. Still wobbly she tried to focus as she too checked the hallway then made for the stairs.
******** Forty minutes earlier ************************************************************