The promise of the massage on Saturday was the only thing getting Michelle through the week. Ever since she found Brett with that blonde hussy last month, it was all she could do to just get out of bed in the morning, and this week seemed to be actively conspiring to make things worse.
On Monday, there was the jerk who ran into her car as it was parked on the street outside her house, busted out a headlight, and left without leaving a number. On Tuesday, she hadn’t met her sales quotas, and so they made her stay after work for an hour and a half doing cold calls until she hit them. On Wednesday, she got pulled over and ticketed about the busted headlight, despite her best efforts to look simultaneously sad and sexy for the policeman. On Thursday the car place told her it would cost $300 for repairs and that they’d have to keep it over the weekend, which meant that she had to pay for a cab to work on Friday, where she had a surprise performance review where they’d threatened to put her on probation.
Michelle had her massage scheduled, and she’d go and get to lie in the dark and close her eyes and feel the soothing touch of another person’s hands on her skin, and nothing—absolutely nothing—would be her responsibility.
So, despite everything, Michelle was smiling when she dragged herself out of bed Saturday morning and headed down to the massage parlor. She always went to the same place and always had the same therapist. Amanda knew where she was tight and what sorts of strokes she liked. Also, Amanda had seen her naked before, so at least she didn’t have to worry about being judged.
Michelle pushed open the door and walked inside. The air was cool, and the room was darkened by slatted, wooden blinds. A small Zen fountain burbled in a corner, and relaxing flute music was playing. She sighed. Things were already looking up.
Michelle found her way to a soft, leather couch. She sank down into it and closed her eyes. It felt good to sit. And soon Amanda would call her name, and she’d follow her back to the massage room and have a little hour of heaven to counteract all of the hell she’d gone through this past week.
Her eyes closed, Michelle moved her neck slowly back and forth and shrugged her shoulders. Ouch. She was tighter than she’d thought. She needed this. She really, really needed this. She needed the kinks worked out of her shoulders, and she definitely needed that huge knot worked out of her neck so that she could stop feeling like she was looking at the world half sideways.
And also... it just sounded nice to be touched. Things had been lonely since the split with Brett. And although Michelle knew that what she really needed was a white-hot fuck, if she couldn’t have that, then at least some platonic, therapeutic, skin-on-skin contact sounded nice.
A voice rang out, breaking Michelle out of her reverie. However, it wasn’t Amanda’s voice. It was a man’s voice, deep and thick and with a trace of a luxurious accent.
Michelle snapped her eyes open. A muscular Hispanic man stood in front of her. He wore dark, tight-fitting scrubs that accented his wide shoulders and broad chest. His skin was a creamy brown, and his arms were large and strong. He had short black hair and a dazzling smile. And, Michelle couldn’t help but notice, he had a tremendous cock. It bulged out against his tight scrub pants, tight enough that she could see the way it hung against his leg, and she almost thought that she could make out the outline of its head.
Michelle blushed and looked up. Why on earth was she looking at his cock? She needed a lay more than she’d realized.
“I’m Michelle,” she said quickly. “But my appointment’s with Amanda.”
“Ah,” the man said. “Amanda is on her honeymoon. I’m filling in.” His voice. It was the sound that dark chocolate infused with chili peppers would make if it could speak. It made her heart race.
“I didn’t know Amanda was engaged,” Michelle responded, wondering if she was as flushed as she felt.
“She eloped,” the man said with a wide smile and a shrug. “I’m Raul.” He extended a hand for Michelle to shake. She took it. The skin was soft and smooth, but the muscles underneath felt strong. She could imagine those hands on her, kneading her muscles and trailing over her skin. No, Michelle. Focus, girl.
“Well, I do really like Amanda,” Michelle hedged. If she got onto the massage table with this man touching her, she’d never be able to sit still. Her nipples would poke through the sheet like drill bits, and she’d probably get wet enough that she’d leak on the table. “Do you know when she’ll be getting back?”
The man smiled. “Two, three months? They’re travelling the world now, backpacking in Europe, sleeping under the stars, sharing a sleeping bag. Very romantic.”
Michelle smiled weakly, finding herself imagining sharing a sleeping bag with Raul.
“You look tense,” said Raul in a voice like a samba. “I don’t think you can wait two months. Come on back. I’ll take care of you.”
Michelle laughed, then stifled it. Yeah, he could take care of her. He could take care of her all night long. But was it a good idea? Maybe she should just go home and eat a couple pints of ice cream instead.
Then Raul took her hand and pulled her to her feet.
“Come,” he said, flashing those dazzling teeth again. “Satisfaction guaranteed. If you don’t like it, you don’t pay.”
Well, all right. This wouldn’t be so bad. He led her down the hallway, placing one hand lightly on the small of her back as though he were leading her in a dance. His touch was electric, and Michelle felt as though her entire consciousness were contained in that half square foot. What would it feel like when he touched her naked skin?
Raul eased open the doorway to the massage room. Michelle had never been in this room before. It was beautiful, dark and comfortably warm, lit by the shifting flames of a pair of candles. Along the walls, there was a painted mural of a nighttime river passing through a forest. Silver moonlight reflected on the water and glowed in the leaves, and off in one corner, a solitary deer stood with dark, shining eyes. On the opposite wall, a large mirror hung. And in the center of the room, there was a massage table draped tastefully with soft, white sheets.
“So, Michelle,” Raul said softly. “What can I do for you today? What sort of massage are you looking for?”
“Well,” Michelle said, “Just a regular one, I guess. I’m – I’ve been really stressed out lately. Things have been awful at work, and I just broke up with my boyfriend, so I’ve been under a lot of pressure.”
Raul nodded. “And where do you carry your tension?”
“Here,” Michelle pointed at her shoulders. She hesitated. “And also my glutes.” See, this was why she liked being massaged by Amanda. With Amanda she never had to explain where she was tense or be the weird girl who asked for a butt massage.
Raul just nodded. He looked her body up and down, like a mechanic inspecting an automobile. “When’s the last time you had your breasts worked?”
“Uhhhh,” Michelle managed. “Never? Amanda didn’t do that.”
Raul frowned. “We should do that. Your chest is too tight, and it’s making your shoulders slump. Plus, breast massage really gets the lymph moving.” He straightened. “I’ll leave you to undress. Please remove all of your clothing and get under the sheet, facedown. I’ll come back and we’ll begin.”
Before Michelle could say anything else, Raul ducked out and closed the door. Breast massage? The thought was strange, and a little frightening, overly intimate. But still, the thought of Raul massaging her breasts, cupping them in his hands and rubbing them in circles, circumambulating them and then gradually spiraling inward toward her nipples–
Michelle shook her head. God. She was way too horny. She began stripping off her clothes and glanced toward the door. How long would it be before Raul came back? Maybe she should just masturbate before he got back and take the edge off. Then at least she wouldn’t be quite so charged when he came in and touched her with his warm, soft hands.
She pulled her shirt off over her head, then tugged her jeans down over her hips. Then she unclipped her bra and shimmied out of her white cotton panties. She let them fall to the ground, then gathered up everything and kicked it into the corner.
Michelle straightened and looked into the mirror, trying to get a preview of what Raul would be touching. She brushed her hair behind her ears and puckered her lips. They were full and pink, and she’d always liked how they looked. She looked at her breasts. They were large and full and white. They weren’t as perky as she’d have liked, but they were big, and she liked that. The areolas were large and brown and contrasted sharply with her white skin. Her nipples were pointed now, even though the room was warm.
Michelle looked at her stomach and hips. They were round and white, and if she was honest, there was some cellulite and dimpling around her thighs. It’d be nice if she could do something about that. In times past, Michelle had been quite sensitive about her weight. She’d concealed her breasts and belly behind baggy shirts and dresses, trying to hide herself. That’d been the one good thing about Brett. While he was with her, he’d made it clear that he didn’t just tolerate her roundness, he loved her for it. Of course, that was before he left for that blonde bimbo. Asshole.
Michelle glanced at her pussy, wishing that she’d taken the time to shave. Her black hair was trimmed, and it certainly wasn’t unruly, but she did sort of like the way it looked when it was entirely naked and smooth. Then she laughed at herself. Idiot. Raul would never see her there. She was getting ready for a massage, not to have sex. So why were her nipples tight and why was her pussy starting to get wet?
Michelle got up on the massage table and snuggled down under the sheet. It was soft and smooth, but very thin. It felt feather-light on her, and she could feel it clinging to every contour of her backs, legs and buttocks. She placed her face in the headrest, feeling the soft fabric against her cheeks. All she could see through it was a small circle of carpet.
There was a light knock, and Raul came in. Most of the time, Amanda waited for a response from Michelle, but Raul just walked in. Maybe he just assumed that she had finished. Or perhaps he had been listening at the door, and heard her climb onto the table.
Raul turned on some light music. It was relaxing and soothing, but it had a gently insistent beat, a touch of erotic spice amid the sweetness. Michelle heard soft footsteps as Raul crossed over to the massage table, then felt him lift the sheet, pulling it slowly down off her back. As the sheet glided smoothly over her skin, her heart skipped, and she wondered how far down he would pull it, imagining him whipping it off of her to expose her buttocks and legs, and between them, just the hint of her pussy.
Raul stopped, folding the sheet back just above the swell of her buttocks. He gathered some massage oil in his hands, then began to knead her back. His touch was magical. Michelle melted as she felt his strong, hot hands working on her, working out the kinks.
“Mmmmm,” she sighed happily. She could get used to this.
His hands wandered around her easily, finding and dissolving her spots of tension as though he’d worked on her a hundred times before. He finished her back, then moved to her legs. Unlike Amanda, he didn’t cover up her back when he finished with it.
Raul started at her feet, massaging the arches and heels, squeezing her toes. His touch was wonderful--smooth and firm, strong without being demanding. Now he folded the sheet back at her knees to expose her calves, which were always the most tender places on Michelle’s body. She gritted her teeth, expecting the pain that usually came when Amanda worked her, but it didn’t come. Raul touched her gently, like a lover, coaxing the tension away instead of beating it out of her.
Now he folded the sheet up further, exposing her thighs so that only her buttocks remained covered. She tensed for a moment, thinking about how big and white her thighs must look, spread out over the table.
Raul merely murmured, “You have a dancer’s legs. They are graceful and sturdy.”
Michelle had never thought of herself like that before. She relaxed. Raul’s touch felt good on her thighs. He began just above the back of her knees and moved slowly upward, stroking the outside of her legs, then the center, then inside. He kneaded her, moving slowly up the inside of her thighs until he reached the sheet, and she hoped for a moment that he would go further upward still, up under to touch her in the places where she longed to be touched.
“You want me to work your glutes now?” Raul asked.
“Yes, please,” Michelle said, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice.
With that, Raul grabbed the sheet and pulled it gently off of her, exposing her completely. Michelle froze. This had never happened in a massage before. Amanda always massaged her through the sheet, or occasionally folded it to reveal one buttock at a time. Michelle had never been this naked in a massage before. But then she’d only ever been to see Amanda. Maybe Raul just did things differently.
Michelle felt totally exposed, and a little bit nervous, but there was also something exciting about it, and she realized that she’d wanted Raul to see her naked, that she’d hoped for this.
Raul began to knead her buttocks slowly, with one hand on each cheek. Michelle hoped that he liked how she felt. She’d always thought her ass was too large and soft, and she’d wished for a trim, toned one that was nothing but a curve of muscle. But Raul was touching her tenderly, firmly, and his touch lingered. Maybe he liked it. And maybe that wasn’t the only thing he liked.
Michelle realized that she wanted him to see more than just her butt, so she began to slowly relax her legs open. She didn’t want to be obvious or to come off slutty. She just wanted him to find himself with the ability to take a peek. So as his hands moved on her ass and massaged the muscles, she allowed the motion to jiggle her legs a fraction of an inch apart, then a fraction more. She wondered if he was watching now, trying to make out the outlines of her slit.
“Mmmmm. You are very tight,” Raul said. Michelle couldn’t read his moan. Maybe it was just him noticing her tightness, but she hoped that it was him noticing something else.
“I told you,” Michelle said. “I carry a lot of tension there.”
“You know,” said Raul, “every tension your body carries says something about you. If you’ve got anger, you feel it in your chest. If you’ve got fear, you feel it in your stomach. If you can read it, you can tell a lot about someone by the tension they carry.”
“So what does a tight butt mean?” Michelle asked.
“It means you need to let go,” said Raul.
Michelle took a deep breath and let it out. “I’m trying to let go,” she said.
“I’ll help you,” Raul said, and she could hear the smile in his voice.
Michelle felt the table shift as Raul climbed up and knelt between her legs. She took in a sharp breath and turned to look back, then realized that she’d lifted a breast off the table and came back down with a blush.
“You’re tightening again,” said Raul. “Relax. I can get a better angle from up here.”
He began massaging her again, now pushing down on her buttocks with his full body weight. Michelle groaned. This was amazing. She’d never felt such delicious pressure there.
“It’s good, no?” asked Raul.
“Yes,” Michelle said. “It’s very good.”
Raul’s touch was working out knots that she didn’t even know she had, and there was a delicious naughtiness to knowing that he was there between her legs, that her pussy was spread wide open and that he could see everything if he wanted. And she didn’t care. She hoped he was watching.
He stayed there for a long time, massaging her ass. He worked the round part up near her hip bones and the muscles out at the side. He worked the muscles that went down into the crease at the bottom of her buttocks, and then went further in. He was so close to Michelle’s pussy now that she felt her breathing start to pick up. No one but a lover had ever touched her here. She trembled, but his fingers were calm and sure, and although they strayed close to her, they never touched her.
“You are very tense here too,” said Raul.
“And what does that mean?” asked Michelle.
“Some things you don’t need to ask.” He got off the table with a bump. “Time for your front. Do you want the sheet back?”
Michelle blushed into the face rest. Could she really just roll over without the sheet? The thought was embarrassing and frightening and delicious. “No,” she said at last. “It’s okay.”
“Then roll over please.”
Michelle did, pushing herself up onto her hip, then letting herself fall onto her back. She knew she was naked, but she felt
naked, with nothing on her front but air. She felt her heavy breasts splaying to each side, relaxing downward. Between them, she could see her belly rising and falling with her breaths. And down below that was the hint of black hair at her pussy. She fought the urge to close her legs.
“You breathe with your stomach,” said Raul. “It’s good. It’s the way we were meant to breathe.”
“And you do it when you are nervous,” said Raul. “It’s even better.”
“I used to sing,” Michelle managed, her arms folded over her stomach.
“Ah,” said Raul, sitting at a stool behind her head and beginning to massage her neck and shoulders. When Michelle looked down, she could see her breasts wobbling with his motions. “What type of music?”
“Opera.” Michelle laughed awkwardly. “You know, ‘the fat lady sings.’”
Raul stopped for a second, his warm hands paused around her neck. “Hush,” he said. “You are luminous. Like Venus. Like Ishtar. You are woman.”
Raul started working again, and Michelle fell silent. No one had ever talked to her like that. Even Brett, who loved her fat, had only talked about how he liked her big titties, had only slapped her ass and whinnied.
Raul finished her neck, then moved to her breasts. Michelle gasped when he touched them, but he was gentle and slow, running his fingers gently over them, cupping them in his hands and moving them slowly in circles. He said something about breast health and moving lymph around, but Michelle was taken up with the sight of his brown hands against her white breasts, his strong, firm fingers against her abundant softness.
Michelle’s nipples were already firm when Raul began to touch her, but now they sharpened and became rock hard. She fought back a moan of pleasure as he touched her, and she closed her eyes. He was feeling her, seeing her. Surely he noticed.
“Easy, Michelle,” Raul’s musical voice came. “It’s natural. Don’t worry.”
She opened her eyes and saw him looking down at her.
“You punish yourself too much. Just be.”
Michelle smiled and just was. She enjoyed the warmth of Raul’s hands on her breasts, and she felt her chest relaxing as he continued to touch her. She whimpered softly when his fingers brushed over her nipple.
“Good,” said Raul. “Let it out.”
Michelle was soaking wet now. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she felt her breathing speeding up. God, she could let him touch her like this forever.
All too soon, Raul moved from her breasts and began massaging her stomach. Amanda had tried to massage Michelle’s stomach too. But Michelle had never let her. Her stomach was so soft and wide and white, like dough. She didn’t want anyone else touching it. Michelle flinched and made a face.
“Stop judging yourself,” said Raul. “You’re beautiful. It’s another one of the curves that makes you a woman.”
Michelle relaxed. Raul’s hands did feel good on her stomach, if she let them. And when he was touching her stomach, he was moving closer than ever to her pussy, which ached and throbbed for his touch, although she knew it wouldn’t happen.
Raul began to speak softly in Spanish as he continued to stroke her belly: “Tu ombligo, como una taza redonda que nunca le falta vino mezclado; tu vientre como montón de trigo cercado de lirios
God, his voice was even more beautiful in Spanish. She had no idea what he was saying, but his voice made her want to sit up, kiss him, and pull him on top of her.
Raul moved slowly downward, massaging lower and lower on Michelle’s abdomen. He placed his hands in the creases at Michelle’s hips and began to slowly rub them. Then, he moved slowly inward, until his fingers were just touching the top of her pubic hair, resting on the tip of her pubic bone. Michelle panted and tried not to buck. His fingers were less than an inch away from her pussy, away from her throbbing clit which felt so full that she was sure he could see it.
“Very tense,” said Raul. “The boyfriend you talked about, it’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”
Michelle nodded quickly, almost frantic with desire. “Yes,” she said.
“You’re still holding onto him,” said Raul. “Let him go.”
And with that, he plunged his fingers down onto her pussy.
Michelle gasped and almost cried out. The sudden touch was electric. She’d known she wanted him to touch her, but she’d never realized she wanted it this much. His touch was like heaven.
“Oh God,” she moaned.
“Yes,” Raul murmured. “God.”
He touched her lightly, teasingly at first, but then moved into slower, firmer touches. He moved both his hands up her pussy, sliding her lips between his fingers, massaging them and filling them with blood.
Then, just when Michelle thought that it felt as good as it could possibly get, he slid a finger up inside her slit, between the lips, and ran it up to her clitoris. The moment he touched her, she cried out and arched her back.
“You’re good enough, Michelle,” Raul said. “You are woman. You are yoni. You are divine.”
He slid over the top of her clit, then placed his fingers around her and squeezed gently. It was the most intense thing she’d ever felt in her life. No one had ever touched her like this. Not Brett. Not herself. Not any of the other half dozen lovers she’d taken in her life.
Raul smiled down at her and continued gently stroking her. She stared up at him, her mouth open, panting. “I need,” she managed. “I need.” Words failed her, and she grabbed at him, feeling his cock through his scrub pants. It was hard and long, and stood up perfectly erect, tenting his pants out away from him.
“No,” said Raul softly. “That’s not what you need. Not today. Today all you need is yourself. Just relax, receive. Let go.”
Michelle grabbed at his cock again. She hungered for it. She wanted to feel it inside of her, filling her up, entering her and driving out all of the void and the emptiness that she’d ever felt. “Please,” she said. “Fill me.”
“Another time,” said Raul. “Today is all about you. You don’t need to be filled, because you’re not empty. You’re enough. You’re enough.”
He took her hand, placed it on her breast. She felt full and warm in her hand. She’d never realized how good she felt. She squeezed slowly, then ran her fingers slowly over its curve to feel the sudden firmness of her nipple.
Raul continued to touch her. His touch became quick and light again, sliding along her inner lips and stroking the very tip of her clitoris. As he touched her, she felt the tension beginning in her, and she moaned.
“Yes,” Raul said. “Just let it happen. Welcome it.”
Michelle moaned again, and she let her body go limp. Her legs fell open and her head relaxed against the firm massage table. She welcomed the climbing pressure in her groin, let it build in her. It built and built, growing in her like clouds billowing on the horizon, and then all of a sudden, her climax struck like lightning.
Michelle cried out and convulsed with a sound like weeping as the waves of pleasure rocked her. She felt a blissful disconnection, as though she were far away from her body, as though she were floating.
She felt full of pleasure, full to overflowing, as though she were a goblet full of orgasm, and her contractions were nothing but ripples and splashes at the surface. And above her, filling her view was the beautiful brown face of Raul, who was whispering softly to her in a language that she couldn’t understand.
Michelle’s climax lasted for a long time, and even after it finally passed, the feeling of happy fullness remained. Michelle lay there on the table, not thinking, not even feeling, but just being.
After some time – though she couldn’t tell whether it was minutes or hours – she noticed that Raul was gone and that she was alone in the darkened room. She stood and stretched. Her body felt loose and warm, and when she caught sight of herself in the mirror, her first thought was that she was beautiful: like a mother goddess.
She dressed slowly, and quietly, then exited the room. Raul was standing behind the desk in the front area.
“You had a good massage?” he asked.
“Yes,” Michelle said. “It was – it was heavenly.”
Raul smiled, and Michelle watched his dark handsome face with its white teeth like snow.
“Will you – ” Michelle started. “Will you be filling in for Amanda long?”
“Just today,” said Raul. Michelle’s heart sank. “But,” he said. “If you liked today’s massage, maybe you can come and see me privately. At my practice. I have some other techniques that maybe you’ll like.”
Michelle smiled. “That would be wonderful,” she breathed.
He slipped her a business card.
Michelle dug her wallet out to pay, but Raul stopped her. “No,” he said. “This one’s free.”
“But I liked it. I was satisfied,” Michelle said.
“Not as much as you’ll like the next one,” Raul said. Then he turned and walked down the hallway.
Michelle watched him as he went, his strong muscular back and his tight, round buttocks which filled out the backside of his scrub pants.
Then, when he’d disappeared into their room, Michelle pushed open the door of the massage parlor and stepped out into the bright, bright sunlight.
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with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
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