Wow… I haven’t written a post since February. That’s atrocious.
But I have a really good excuse. Well, two really good excuses, in fact.
Firstly, I’ve been working on my next book. It’s taking me a lot longer than I had hoped because I keep changing directions. But I can’t help that – I keep getting new ideas. I’ll be writing for a few days and then things will start to go off track but I’ll like the new way they are going even more than what I had originally planned. So I go back and rewrite the previous chapters to work with the new idea.
And secondly, I hurt my back. Really badly. I was stepping into the shower and I lost my balance just a little bit, not enough to hurt at the time, but I must have thrown my back out because a few hours later I was screaming in agony. Luckily the pain subsided when I laid down, but as soon as I tried to sit or stand I was howling so I knew something was really wrong. I obviously couldn’t drive so I had to call an ambulance.
It was very dramatic and extremely painful. The ambulance staff tried several times to help me walk because they couldn’t get the gurney up to my bed, but every time I moved from lying down the muscles in my lower back went into spasm and I was in the most pain I’ve ever known. So in the end they brought in a stretcher to carry me to the ambulance.
Lots of drugs and a few hours later I was much more comfortable and the next day, able to leave the hospital, albeit walking very slowly and bunched over. A visit to a neurologist confirmed that I had a herniated disk and would need physical therapy which I was very happy to do. I do not ever want to throw my back out like that again.
And this is where the juicy part of my excuse begins. The following account, just like my post on the EAA Conference in Las Vegas, really did happen exactly as I describe it below. Every word. Mostly.
I made an appointment at a nearby center for back pain and sports injuries. They gave me an evaluation and I was told that I would have several sessions with a massage therapist and then I’d also start working with a physical therapist who would guide me through exercises to strengthen my back. It sounded like an excellent plan and so I arrived the next day for my first massage therapy session. I was really looking forward to it because, not only would it make my poor hurting back hurt less, but I’d always wanted a professional massage and never been able to justify the cost.
I stood (sitting was still too painful) in the waiting room, trying not to stare at the other patients. Hearing my name, I looked around and saw a young, very fit – very, very fit – man smiling at me. I smiled back, and probably blushed too. (I blush far too easily, but I can’t help it; I’m always thinking naughty thoughts.) I followed the very nice looking man, who introduced himself as Alexander, through to a small room. He closed the door and asked me to lie down on my tummy on the narrow, padded massage table. I did so. And blushed again.
I’d just presumed my massage therapist would be a woman. But here I was, alone in a small room with Alexander, a very good looking man who obviously used every lunch break to work out on the center’s exercise equipment. His smile was kind and gentle and his face seemed too cute to be on such a manly body. A manly body that was about to touch my womanly body. I hoped his sense of smell wasn’t too acute or he’d know that I was really, really looking forward to this therapy session. Although the blushing had probably already given the game away and he must have been used to ladies swooning on the table. He really was delicious. I tried, and incredibly I think I actually managed, to not whimper or moan during the following thirty minutes when Alexander’s hands touched, massaged and kneaded my back. And even fairly low down on my butt. I was very proud of myself and I even managed to act fairly normal once the session was over. Alexander said he’d like to see me three times a week for the next few weeks. I’d have gone back every day.
After a couple of weeks with Alexander’s expert hands, my back was really starting to feel a lot better. (Even if other parts of me were in desperate need of attention.) At the end of the second week, he explained that three times a week was working well for me but that his schedule was really full the following week and he didn’t have anything available. I tried not too look too disappointed at the idea of having another therapist replace the wonderful Alexander for a week, but then he asked if I could come in later than usual. He said that normally the center closed at 9pm but that he had the keys and would be willing to stay late so that we could continue our sessions. He promised me it would only be for a week, then I’d be able to come back at my regular afternoon time.
I pretended to think about it for a few moments before agreeing. We made an appointment for the following Monday at 9pm.
That weekend I did not buy a new pair of black lace panties. And I definitely did not buy a new bra to match them. Nope. Didn’t do it.
On Monday, I arrived for my session wearing a very flattering yoga outfit that I hadn’t bought that weekend either. The center seemed very different without all the bright lights on full, the constant movement of patients hobbling around and the non-stop murmur of voices. Alexander looked up from his book and smiled at me as I entered the now dimly lit reception area. That same smile I’d seen the first day that comes from knowing that you do what you do, very, very well. And that everyone you do it to wants more.
He tossed his book lightly onto the reception desk.
“Go lie down, I’ll be right there. Just need to lock the front doors in case people see the lights and think we’re open.”
I nodded and went to our regular room. He was locking us in. Well, that did make sense though. It wouldn’t be safe to leave the front doors open with cash in the register, the computers and all the exercise equipment and stuff.
I laid down on my tummy as usual and waited. Alexander arrived a few moments later.
“How was the weekend? Any problems?”
Alexander’s voice was exactly the same as the touch of his hands – soft, warm, confident, calming.
“No problems over the weekend, no, thanks. My back is definitely getting better.”
“That’s great! I think you’ll soon be ready to start the physical therapy exercises.”
“Cool.”
I couldn’t think of anything else to say. His hands were on me now and it took all my concentration to not like it too much. As usual, he carefully pulled my top up a little to bare my back. Just as carefully, he pulled the pants down enough to be able to massage my very lower back. All very professional and proper.
He had been doing his usual massage for about ten minutes when the sound of his soft voice surprised me; he didn’t usually speak at all while he was massaging me.
“I’d like to try something a little different this session. Your back seems to be responding very well but I think I could do you even more good if I were to work a bit higher here, and a little lower here. Is that okay with you?” As he spoke, he placed his soft, warm hands lightly on my back, indicating where he meant.
I was very happy for him to go as high – or especially as low – as he wanted, but I didn’t want to appear too keen or to make it seem as though I thought that this was anything other than a professional massage session. However much I wished he would be extremely unprofessional with me.
“Of course, that’s perfectly fine with me. Please do. You’re the expert!”
He slid his hand up under my top all the way to that very sensitive part of my neck and I squirmed.
“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
“Oh no! Not at all, it’s nice. I mean, it’s fine. That feels fine.”
I buried my burning cheeks in the massage table.
After a few moments he spoke again, “I don’t usually ask this of my patients, but it would make things a lot easier for me if you wouldn’t mind undoing your bra strap. If that makes you uncomfortable it’s perfectly okay and I can still work around it, but it would make the massage smoother and more effective if your back were completely bare. Actually, you know what, what if I leave the room for a few moments and you take your bra and t-shirt off? Just lie down on your tummy when you’re done.”
It was a question, but it wasn’t. Something in the tone of Alexander’s voice was telling me to strip and so I just nodded, glad that he seemed to fully expect me to agree.
A few moments later he was back and I was lying half naked on the massage table.
I felt very vulnerable. I wasn’t sure what was happening but I was loving it.
A little gasp as his hands made contact with my very naked back caused him to ask me again if I was okay. I just nodded in reply, not trusting myself to use my vocal chords. I was sure there was a moan in my throat that would escape before any words did.
Alexander’s hands were now lightly massaging the nape of my neck. Oh, I love that so much. Why is that so few men know about that place? I never tell anyone that it’s such a sensual area to be touched because it’s like a switch for me. Touch me there and I’m gone. I’ve been had like that twice in my life before. Each time I had absolutely no intention of having sex but they found my neck. The flirting was suddenly over, my eyes were closing and I was in deep need.
Alexander knew about that place and it was having its effect on me. I had already been embarrassingly turned on before even climbing on the massage table but now the ache was beginning to get painful. In such a good way. I didn’t care if he saw, I pressed my groin into the padding of the table.
His voice was very low as he said, almost in a whisper, “I can do a lot of good for you like this. Just relax. Are you okay, am I making you feel nervous? We can stop at any moment.”
The idea of stopping now almost sent me into a panic.
“Oh no! It’s fine, I’m fine. It’s great. Please go on. I’ll try and relax. But don’t stop. I’m sure you’re really helping my back. Please continue. It feels great.”
I stopped talking before I started begging.
Then his hands were moving down my back. Slow, firm, deep massage followed by soft, gentle caresses.
When he reached my lower back he pressed just the right way, in just the right place. I let out a moan. Oh no! What should I do? Apologize? Lie? Make up an excuse?
But his voice was low and close to my ear as he said, “Shhhh. It’s okay. Just relax. Everything is okay.”
I whimpered and didn’t care that he heard or knew how very turned on I was.
“Roll over onto your back. Slowly. I’ll help you. Shhhh. It’s okay.”
I just did as he said, not caring that my breasts were bare and that this was rapidly becoming much more than I had signed up for.
“You’re beautiful.”
His hands slid gently down my throat to my breasts, cupping them softly. Another moan escaped me, but I was no longer trying to control anything. My breathing quickened and my gasps grew louder as I felt his fingers gently pinch and play with my nipples. Then his mouth was on my breasts, kissing, his tongue flicking one nipple while his hand played with the other.
My hips bucked. How had this happened? I didn’t care, I just wanted more of it and so when I felt his hand move from my breast and begin to slowly trace a line down my tummy I did nothing to stop it.
His fingers reached the top of my yoga pants. I pushed against his touch, silently begging him to keep going. I needed it so badly. He moved achingly slowly, his hand now hovering at the waistband of my panties. He suddenly bit gently but firmly on my nipple. It sent a jolt of pain-pleasure straight down to my pussy and I cried out, “Touch me! Please! Touch me!”
Then his fingers were between my legs, bathed in my juices as they circled my clit, slowing teasing at first then with more speed and pressure until I screamed out with an orgasm that slammed through me.
I was breathing very hard and clutching onto the sides of the massage table. My whole body was shaking. It felt amazing. I slowly opened my eyes and tried to focus on the man who had just given me the strongest orgasm I had had in years. He was taking something out of his pocket. I watched in a sort of haze, as he slipped his clothes off and slid the condom out of its wrapper. He then leaned down next to me and spoke very softly, “Let me help you onto the floor. I don’t want you to fall off the table.”
He picked me up like a fairy tale prince cradling his princess and gently lowered me to the floor. He then lowered himself over me and began to kiss my neck. In between the soft kisses he whispered, “I’d love to fuck you now. Is that okay?”
I whimpered and breathed a yes and then, at last, I felt him slide into me. I cried out as he filled me, opening my legs, spreading for him as widely as I could. My fingers dug into his back, that beautiful muscular back I had admired so often and that I could now finally touch and feel and smell.
He was as skilled with his cock as he was with his hands as he moved on and in me, changing rhythm, speed and position. I moved with him until I felt him shudder and then groan loudly. I locked my legs around him and pulled him deeper into me, my pussy still contracting from the amazing orgasm he had given me, milking him now of every last drop of come.
We laid like that for a few moments before Alexander stood up. My breathing began to return to normal and I watched in a happy glow as he carefully removed the condom and wrapped it in a tissue. Then he helped me to my feet and we dressed in silence.
Once we were fully clothed he stood in front of me and put one hand on my shoulder, the other he used to gently stroke my hair. I leaned into his touch. It was warm and comforting.
Then he pulled me close into a hug as he whispered, “That was amazing, Charlotte, thank you. You responded very well to today’s session. We have two more special sessions this week and then it’s back to our regular afternoon slot. Unless you’d rather just wait until next week.”
“Oh, no! I mean yes, two more special sessions would be great, I mean, fine. Thank you, I’d like that.”
“Wonderful! See you at 9pm on Wednesday then. I think we’ll try the same deep muscle massage that we did tonight and perhaps I’ll add a little work on your jaw muscles too. When people get tense, they tend to clench the jaw which isn’t good. We need to keep all your muscles warm, relaxed and happy. Sound good?”
Alexander pulled away from the hug and stood in front of me. He took my hands in his and squeezed gently.
“Yes, thank you, that sounds very good.”
I walked home thinking of Wednesday and licked my lips.
Comments