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Conflicts In The Heart - A Tormented Passion

Fantasy vs. Reality in a dream like state of mind leads to a conflict in the heart.
We share a quiet time together… two new friends getting to know each other better and when I sense that you are physically a little tense and tired I offer you a shoulder and neck massage.

“Come sit here in front of me,” I say as I move slightly closer to the sofa’s edge. You respond quickly and seat your self on the floor between my spread knees.

You are wearing a simple, silky white blouse that is which is a favorite of mine from some photos I’ve seen and I note that it is loose fitting across the top of your shoulders.

After you get settled I place my hands across the tops of both shoulders and my thumb tips meet right over your spine. I try to grip using the palms of my hands to avoid unintentional pinching and pain. The silky fabric glides nicely as I work across your shoulders in closer to the base of your neck and begin using my thumbs to stroke upwards on the muscles on either side of your spine.

Gradually I abandon your shoulders and begin to comb through your hair with my splayed fingers. The action starts one handed low on your neck and then the other hand takes it place becoming a slow, soft, continuous motion. I flex my fingers some to intensify the massaging of your head and scalp. Gradually my finger tips reach around and massage your temples, forehead, and lightly … oh so lightly … caress your eyelids. Is that a purr I hear from you or just a soft sigh?

As my hands and fingers retreat from your eyes, they linger a moment again on your forehead and temples before once again lightly massaging your scalp and head. As my hands and fingers take their starting places again, I realize that you have loosened a few buttons on your blouse and pushed the opening back some modestly revealing more skin across the tops of your shoulders. I pay a little more attention to your shoulders again, and this time, my long fingers gently flex their way across your upper chest and drift teasingly close to the gentle swell of your covered breasts. Gradually, someway, somehow, my finger tips find their way under the fabric of your blouse and softly stroke your skin over the beginning of the rise of your breasts. My thumbs are hooked on your neck and prevent my hands from drifting lower still.

One last thing I do is slowly stroke upwards from the top of your breast and across the front of your neck. Each finger tip lightly finds its own path multiple times to the underside of your chin and jaw. I soon am literally cradling your head in both hands as I lean over and gently place a kiss on the top of your head.

“How was that...have you had enough?” I murmur in your ear

“MMmmmmm….I’m about,” is your soft, sleepy reply.

“Sit still while I fix these cushions on the floor and then you can stretch out for a back rub,” I say. I then line up the cushions in such a manner that there is a space between two….a space that you instinctively realize is a comfort zone for your breasts.

As you are settling down on the cushions, I slip a small pillow under your pelvis and tummy area to help support the alignment of your spine. The effect also elevates and accentuates the curvature of your bottom. I ask for some body massage oil and you tell me where to find it. Returning to your side, I realize you have wisely finished unbuttoning your blouse and pulled it free from your skirt… but not removed it. With your tacit approval, I then carefully pull the blouse down your back till the collar is just even with your shoulder strapless bra ... and the sleeves even with your elbows ... leaving both of your arms by your sides. Even with this, you are all but asleep with a sweet smile on your face and a low, almost guttural mmmm sound.

After putting a bit of oil in my hands, I literally start over by massaging the tops of your shoulders again and work my way out to the joints. I’m also able to come down lower on your back to the shoulder blades. From there, I slowly and methodically work my way up your spine and out to one arm. Taking your upper arm in my hands, I gently begin a continuous palpation of the muscles...all the way out to your finger tips.… pausing only long enough to free your arm from your blouse sleeve. I carefully flex and pull on each finger and massage in between them and then firmly rub the thickness of your palms. Backtracking up your arm and across your shoulders, I give your other arm the same careful attention. Even though both of your arms are now free from the sleeves, I leave your blouse lying loosely spread over your lower torso.

Your verbal responses to my comments have all but disappeared, your soft smile of contentment and subtle body language of approval have not.

Replenishing my hands with oil...after laying your blouse aside...I now begin to glide my hands over the expanse of your lower back and slowly work my way upwards and outwards. My fingers are now reaching, stretching, lightly grasping your sides gently as they move up and down. You are hardly aware of the gentle movement as I release the clasp of your bra and lay the straps out. The length of your back is now totally revealed to me from your neck down to the low riding skirt waist. My finger tips lightly … carelessly even … caress the sides of your breasts almost reaching around enough through the space between the cushions to stroke your nipples. Because of the oil, my hands and fingers now glide effortlessly from your neck to the upper part of your sacrum. I can see a hint of a tan line through the oil’s sheen. Gradually, I’m able to rub any discomfort out of your back and I can feel your body soften and yield beneath my hands and fingertips.

I marvel as a couple of darker freckles seem to be trying to hide in the cleft of your spine...the oil just highlights these personal beauty marks in the dim light. While I’m covering your body with a lap blanket from the sofa, I lean over and murmur in your ear that I love your freckles and ask…”Are you satisfied yet?”

“Mmm...I don’t think so.”

“ ‘Mmmmmmm….I don’t think so’ you say. What do you want me to do next...feet, legs?”

“If you don’t mind, the balls of my feet are sore...and my ankles, too. Just DON’T tickle!” is your answer and admonishment.

You seem a little more alert now, and wiggle around just a little to resettle yourself on the cushions. As I pick up a foot, you bend your leg at the knee and slightly spread your legs as I bring the foot to my lap. I have to reposition myself to be kneeling more directly behind will be easier on both of us. I don’t say anything, but I just casually remove your socks while trying hard to avoid any contact with your foot that might be ticklish. I can grasp your foot in such a manner that my thumbs are on the thick ball of it and I begin to massage rather firmly. After several minutes of this I gradually ease the pressure and start to run my fingers between your toes and in the crease under them. I also lightly flex and tug gently on each toe. The murmur of your voice indicates approval of my touch. I replenish the oil on my hands and am gradually able to rub it into your skin. While in the process of oiling your foot, I’m able to massage your heel and gently flex your ankle.

After laying the one foot aside, I pick up your other foot and while doing that you wiggle a bit more and spread your legs out a bit wider. I see to it that your second foot receives every bit the attention the first one did, but instead of stopping there, I continue the massage on down the calf of your leg to the back of your knee. I take my time doing this and try to use my thumb tips to chase away some muscle tension I feel. Eventually I have to move your legs further apart so that I can move myself closer behind you. You use this moment to wiggle a bit and resettle yourself and I help you rearrange the pillows under your lower torso. Now I can bend your knee such that I can get a good, two-handed grasp of your shapely calf and can use my fingers too, and I’ll be able to really go after the tension I feel in that pretty leg of yours.

With my hands re-oiled, I start a long...and slow... up and down stroking of your leg from your ankle to your knee. I see that there is a surplus of oil on my hands and I have to be very careful not to let it soil the hem of your skirt. At the first opportunity I can take, I rub and wipe the excess oil onto the calf of your other leg. I then start to slide the hem of your skirt up some (so it won’t get oil on it) and you surprise me by reaching down and pulling it up even higher...almost to the lower side of your firm curvy, bottom. Your modesty and dignity is still preserved, but just barely.

The act of pulling your skirt up so high...along with your soft sighs of contentment …. prompts me to ask if everything is OK. Your reply is a quiet sound (and a very slight, further spreading of your legs) that seems to invite my hands and fingers to venture onto your thighs and to continue this massage.

Always keeping my hands on you, I begin to rather vigorously rub up and down your thigh. This warms up your silky skin and also seems to push the blood circulation back towards your body’s core. While doing this, I do a light rotating or twisting motion of my hands on the upward stroke and follow that with an almost straight line stroke...fingers spread...back down to your knee. On the upward, twisty, stroke, my fingers come very, very close to venturing into that demurely hidden secret, forbidden zone that defines you … not just as a female, but as a woman. I can actually feel extra heat on the side of my hand that obviously radiates from your womanly core.

WOW!! I’m having difficulty maintaining my composure as I shift attention on your legs again and start repeating the massage process. A conflict is building within me. I’m beginning to “want” and this is NOT supposed to be about me… it is all for and about YOU. Purely by accident, my finger tip crosses that invisible line into your secret place and touches you briefly and softly. Your whole body jerks at the surprise of this intrusion.

Oh God, what have I done? “I’m so sorry. It was an accident and I did NOT mean for that to happen….please forgive me.”

“Its OK...I just wasn’t expecting that and it surprised me.”

As you settle back down, you wiggle your legs slightly and that signals me to continue. I lightly go back over both legs from the top of your thighs down to your toes. You seem to be accepting of my apology and your body has become thoroughly relaxed once again.

I then lean over your body and do a similar repeat on your back and arms before slipping your blouse back on you. As I move aside a few strands of your hair to kiss your cheek, and then your neck, I smile as you appear to have drifted off to sleep. And in a whisper I ask…

“Shall I cover you?“

Your response is to start to turn over onto your back. You quickly cover your breasts by pulling your blouse together. It is, however, left unbuttoned, and your bra remains on the floor. As you are doing so, I’m able to locate a small pillow for your head and then help to place the larger pillow under your bottom and lower back for comfortable support.

Where do I begin on this side? I decide to start on your face, neck and upper body. There is tiny bit of awkwardness, but I’m able to massage what I see and then I shift to your legs again. I leave your feet alone now and start to concentrate on your legs. This time, you pull up the hem of your skirt to the top of your thighs… spread your legs out some... and that reveals to me a tiny bit of a glimpse of your panty covered core. I can feel additional heat radiating from your center.

This has made me uncomfortable due to the physical reaction my body is having. I wanted this to be for you but my focus is rapidly shifting to my own carnal desires.

As I boldly slide your skirt up towards your waist, you grasp my hands and pull them to your chest...your blouse has slid open leaving your breast exposed. I now want desperately to caress your breast… to wantonly taste your puffy, dark, rose colored nipples. I want it all with a tormented passion.

Forcing myself to go slow to savor this experience, I start with a careful massage of your upper chest and gently rub the oil into your skin. My palms glide lightly over your nipples and I feel them change from soft and puffy to firm and erect. Your nipples actually tickle my palms. Your eyes are closed and you do not see me lean forward over you. You do feel me lightly kiss and suckle on each of your breast as a warm, sweet smile creeps across your face.

I continue to softly stroke your body from your neck, down to your chest, between your breasts, your breasts themselves, and across your belly to the edge of your skirt. My own passion and desires flare up and without even asking, I find the zipper and button and loosen the waist band. As I start to tug the garment down off your body, you instinctively raise your hips to enable me to remove the garment. I take off your panties in the same motion leaving your secret beauty now on full display before my eyes. A fevered heat seems to radiate from your core. I feel it on my face as I lean down for a closer look in the dim light. I have to pause a moment and let my eyes drink in the vision before me. I’m hardly aware that I’ve taken such a deep breath and now I rather suddenly, and loudly, exhale. Oh God, what carnal conflicts I feel in my heart as my focus wants to change from you to me.

The soft murmur from your lips and a slight shuffling, spread of your legs draws me back to seeking out the tension spots in your body. Now, without fear of the oil soiling your clothes, I begin by reaching down repeatedly nearly to your knees and drawing my hands rather firmly up each leg, not stopping till my thumbs are pressing alongside your neatly trimmed sex. I change my hand motion around to see that that entire area of our body receives attention. I feel the tendons in the crease between each leg and your crotch. I let my fingers lightly caress the length of the thin slit between your lips. This caress is on their return upward after finding … exploring … tenderly massaging, and probing that secret, hidden area down below the portal to your womanhood. Your clear, honey-like fluid is beginning to seep out.

Each movement of my hands and fingers across your sex seems to further weaken whatever it is that seals back your honey-like fluids. The clear flow starts as a drop and steadily increases with each movement of my hands and fingers. I lean closer and the delicate scent of your heated essence fills my nose and senses. Your tiny, sensitive bud is beginning to protrude. Your entire womanly region is slowly rocking up and down in a measured response to my strokes. Each slow pass of a finger tip along that slit and between those lips seems to elicit a physical response. It is as if I can feel your inner folds grasping in your body’s reaction to my finger’s presence. I can stand it no longer and lean in to steal a kiss in your sacred place. I want to sip your honey from your womanly font. I must have my thirst for you slaked, and in so doing, for just a tiny, fleeting moment of eternity, the tip of my tongue rolls itself into a slender trough and engages with your small bud. My tongue and your sweet bud seem to be in a mating act of their own. I can feel your body stiffen and spasm in several waves of contraction as you let out a long, low moan of relief.

I do not deserve this. My heart is full of conflicts and my feelings of passion for you are tormented. I want, I desire, I lust for more, but I can’t do anything more in this dream.

“WAIT” ... is the last sound I hear as I close the door behind me.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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