Anne’s First Erotic Massage

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00353 515 73 20

Anne couldn’t hide her nervousness when she shown into the window-less room by the older woman. She had no real idea what to expect. It contained a massage table, as she imagined, and a shower recess in one corner, but the other was occupied by a large spa tub. The lighting was low yet bright enough to pick out the pink tones in the piles of fluffy towels on a shelf. There was also a single chair, so she sat in it, sensing that this was expected of her, and wondered what the coming hour would bring. She registered there was piped ambient-type music playing at a low level – no doubt to help relax the clients.

Moments later the older woman slid the door open again, looked in and told her “Have a shower, sweetie. Relax.” Anne nodded; a shower, okay. She understood that bit. Making sure the door was firmly closed, but rather alarmed to see there was no lock, she quickly stripped off her shirt, trousers and shoes, arranging them on the chair and hook provided, then removed her bra and panties, tucked them under her folded trousers for modesty’s sake, ran the shower, placed a couple of towels close by, and jumped in before the water temperature had reached optimum level. She figured the best thing to do was have a fast shower and get out quickly, wrap herself head to foot in towels.

However, no sooner was she under the stream of water, taking care not to get her hair wet, than the door slid open and someone entered the room. Instantly Anne turned away from the door so whoever it was couldn’t see her nakedness. She peeked back over her shoulder and reacted. It was a woman. She had imagined she would be massaged by some muscular man, but the young blonde woman in the doorway was wearing a lacy bra, g-string, heels, and nothing else. She was spectacularly well built and Anne immediately felt embarrassed by her own body.

“Hi, I’m Fifi,” said the woman, closing the door and slipping her heels off in one gesture. “What’s your name?”

Anne’s plans to stay as quiet as a mouse in the shower and hope the woman would go away evaporated. “Um, Anne.”

“Well, hi Anne. How’s about we have a spa you and me?”

‘A spa?’ thought Anne, ‘I thought we were having a massage?’ “Oh, okay.”

So Fifi put the plug in the spa and started running the water, adding a generous burst of bubble bath. “Do you want a drink, Anne? A glass of champagne perhaps? Beer? Soft drink?”

“Um, no nothing thanks, I’m fine.”

“Coffee, tea, bonox?”

“No,” replied Anne, not smiling, “I’m fine. Really.” She turned the shower off, then wondered how to get out of the shower and into a towel without the curvaceous, extraordinary looking Fifi getting a look at her. God, how did she get herself into this mess? Why on earth did she agree to a massage of any sort, let alone an erotic massage? What a fool she was! As she slid open the cubicle door and reached for her towels Fifi got there first, picked up one of them, shook it out, and held it out to her. Standing there with her arms across her breasts and crotch Anne had not choice but to reach for it – choosing the crotch hand.

Fifi gave her a big smile, “This your first time?”

Anne nodded, realising that that was pretty obvious.

“We’re going to have a nice time,” said Fifi. “I want you to relax, because I’m going to be relaxed, okay?” And she smiled.

And Anne thought it was a nice smile. She nodded again, wrapping herself in the towel and going through the motions of drying herself – although since they were about to have a spa that didn’t seem to make a lot of sense. She stood patting herself through the towel, wondering what to do next.

Fifi put her hair up into a knot and then proceeded to undress. Anne stared – she couldn’t not stare. Fifi’s breasts were large but not huge, champagne-glass-shaped, with dark, permanently-erect nipples. Her belly was trim, her legs long and well-muscled, and she looked to have an all over tan. When she stepped out of her g-string she revealed that her pubic hair – as dark as her strong eyebrows – had been shaved into a kind of an exclamation mark. Anne suddenly felt kind of shaggy and unkempt. Is that what women did these days? Shaved themselves like that?

Fifi smiled at her again, turned and, legs apart, bent over the spa tub to check the water temperature, offering Anne a view of her perfect bottom and a glimpse of her pubic mound. Anne quickly looked away, embarrassed and shocked at herself for looking. But then she took another peek at this gorgeous and totally unselfconscious goddess.

Fifi dipped her elbow into the tub and laughed, “Just right for baby.” She stepped into the tub, turned internet casino to Anne, invited her in, then sat down in the bubbles.

Put on the spot, Anne had no choice but to smile back – although it was admittedly a strained smile – put the towel aside and step into the tub as quickly as she could. Then she too sank beneath the bubbles, sliding down until they covered her insignificant breasts.

“Do you often do this?” She asked Fifi.

“What’s that? Give massages? Or give massages to girls?”

“Yes, to girls,” replied Anne.

“From time to time,” said Fifi. “It’s a nice change from men. Women are different, they respond differently. I like that.”

“Oh,” said Anne, unable to think of anything else to add. Then she jumped as a hand caressed her thigh under the water.

“It’s okay,” smiled Fifi, “don’t be nervous. I know it’s your first time. It’s going to be nice, believe me. You’ve got nothing to be scared of.” And with that she slid closer to Anne so that their bodies touched.

Anne plucked a smile from somewhere, “You’re so beautiful.” “You’re very pretty yourself,” replied Fifi. Anne laughed that away. She knew she was nothing compared to this goddess. But Fifi was serious. “You are a really lovely woman, Anne. I can see that. You’ve got a beautiful smile, you’ve got beautiful eyes. I can see into your soul.”

Anne smiled, abashed, pleased at the compliment and sensing it was genuine. “Well, you’re absolutely gorgeous Fifi. I’ve never seen anybody like you. You’ve got the most amazing body.”

Fifi smiled and nodded, “Thank you. All natural too, no silicone.”

Anne smiled, “I didn’t think so. Um … Are you a … a lesbian?”

“Me? Of course not. I’m as straight as you are.” Fifi stretched a hand behind Anne’s neck and caressed the nape with her fingertips, giving her the lightest of massages. “Just relax, baby, that’s what we’re here for.”

For the first time since she arrived Anne began to feel like relaxing. She smiled and closed her eyes and listened to the music. They were playing Enya now, something from almost 20 years ago, ‘Orinoco Flow’, and she remembered she’d always liked it. Now here she was sitting in this warm tub, covered in fluffy suds with a beautiful woman, naked, who was caressing her neck like a lover. Maybe she was dreaming. But then Fifi’s free hand found Anne’s and pulled it towards her. Anne suddenly found her palm resting on the incredibly smooth, warm skin of Fifi’s inner thigh. What did she expect her to do now? she wondered, deciding to leave it right where it was so that she didn’t get into any trouble.

“Are you relaxing, Anne?”

Anne nodded, she was relaxing.

“Does that feel good?” Meaning the neck.

Anne nodded again.

“You can touch me anywhere you want, you know. Anything goes, Anne.”

Anne nodded a third time, her mouth suddenly dry. God, she wished she had asked for a glass of soft drink.

“Do you want bubbles?”

It took Anne a second to understand the question. “Oh, yes. Why not? Thanks. Sure.”

Fifi pressed the button at the edge of the spa tub and it filled with surging bubbles from the many jets. Anne watched her as she repositioned herself so that one of the major jets was aimed between her legs.

“Mmm, now that feels nice.” Smiled at Anne. “Find yourself a jet.”

Obediently Anne followed Fifi’s example and felt a powerful jet of water pushing between her legs and pummelling her pubic area. She smiled back at Fifi, “You’re right. It’s nice.”

“Sometimes I think God is a woman,” smiled Fifi.

“Is that your real name? Fifi?”

“Well, actually it’s Fiona but my dad always used to call me Fifi. My mum hated it, she said I sounded like a French poodle.”

Anne smiled again, liking this woman. She adjusted herself slightly so that the water pushed the hood clear of her clitoris. It felt exquisite.

“Hitting the spot, huh?”

Anne immediately moved again, embarrassed at being caught out.

“Come on, let’s get out of here, get on the table.”

Anne’s sense of security evaporated again. She was enjoying this tub experience where bodies were disguised but intimacy was achieved. However it seemed there was nothing for it but to do what Fifi said.

The masseuse stood and reached for a towel, water and suds streaming off her glorious body. Anne found her face so close to that shaved pubic mound she could count the trimmed hairs.

“Come on baby, let me dry you.” Fifi stretched a hand to her and Anne had no choice but to stand in front of her. She felt small, lumpy and ancient next to this canlı poker oyna goddess, but Fifi’s friendly, genuine smile set her at ease. “You are lovely,” she said, and sounded as though she meant it, wrapping Anne in the fluffy warmth of the towel, “I can’t wait to get my hands on you.”

Fifi finished drying herself, got out and arranged her massage oils. “Okay, when you’re dry, face down on the table please.”

Anne hurried to oblige, and adjusted herself on the table. She’d had massages before when she’d pulled muscles in her lower back and that table had a hole for the face so you could lie in a perfectly flat position, but this table didn’t have that, so she had to lie with her head to one side. Then she realised why it was designed like that; both walls on either side of the table were covered in mirrors, and as she lay with her head to one side she could see Fifi in full-length rear view, preparing her oil. When she turned her head to look at the other wall she could see her in frontal view. It was a voyeur’s dream come true – but where else could she look?

For the first time Anne had a chance to study Fifi uninterrupted. She truly was beautiful. She held herself like a dancer, or perhaps like an athlete. Either way Fifi knew how to move, was proud of herself and relaxed in her nudity.

She turned to Anne and drizzled massage oil from the base of her neck down her back to the top of the crevice between her buttocks. Anne shivered at the cold oil. “Sorry baby, I’ve got nothing to warm it with in here. But don’t worry, you’ll soon warm it up.” And with that she began to work the oil into Anne’s smooth, warm, slightly damp skin. She started on her shoulders, working out knots Anne didn’t realise were there. Anne felt that familiar rush of endorphins that occurs when a good masseuse is at work. It quickly became evident that Fifi definitely knew what she was doing as she worked her way down Anne’s back to her buttocks and kneaded them. This wasn’t so bad – really it was just like a conventional massage, Anne thought to herself, the only difference being they were both naked. But since they were both women, so what?

Then Fifi picked up her oil and drizzled a little bit between Anne’s buttocks so that it trickled down across her anus and between the lips of her pussy. Anne flinched involuntarily from the coldness, the alien touch, the intimate touch. But it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. Next Fifi got to work on Anne’s lower half, lifting her feet so that her legs were slightly apart she ran her clever hands the length of Anne’s left leg from her ankle up her calf … up her thigh, slowly … all the way to her buttock, her thumbs just grazing the protruding curls of Anne’s untrimmed pubic hair. Then she moved to the right leg and repeated the process.

And all the time Anne lay with her head to one side, watching Fifi work, knowing that this woman – this strange, beautiful woman – could look up and see her unguarded sex if she wanted to. And yet, being so vulnerable, so laid open to her, felt not only natural but somehow right.

And then Fifi turned her attentions to Anne’s feet, first massaging her soles, which suggested she had more than a passing knowledge of reflexology, and then doing what no reflexologist would do. She lifted Anne’s feet to her mouth and sucked her toes, one by one, sliding her warm wet tongue between each. Anne gasped. It was one of the most intimate things she’d ever experienced. Better than oral sex (at least, her husband’s version of oral sex).

When Fifi was finished teasing and tantalising Anne’s pretty feet she moved up to the head of the table, leant down, kissed the top of her head and whispered in her ear, “Turn over now, baby.”

Anne lay still for a moment. Turn over? That meant exposing herself fully to this woman. Was she prepared to do that? What would happen next?

Fifi settled the issue by slapping Anne on the bottom, “Come on, move,” she commanded. Anne turned over as she was told and lay still, her feet together, but Fifi grasped Anne’s ankles and moved her feet apart again, “This way.” Then she moved back to the head of the table and began massaging Anne’s temples. Slow, gentle, delicate movements that felt ever so good. Anne had her eyes closed, trying to forget that Fifi had a complete view of her imperfect body, but when she opened her eyes she could see the undersides of Fifi’s superb breasts, her nipples jutting. It was an amazing view and Anne couldn’t take her eyes off them.

From Anne’s temples Fifi shifted her attentions to her arms and hands. For the first time in her life Anne wished she had better poker oyna muscletone; were her arms flabby or just relaxed? The hand massage Fifi then gave her was very firm but felt surprisingly good. Anne could feel herself turning into a limp jelly.

The masseuse’s next move was to dribble a little oil from Anne’s throat to her navel, where it puddled, and then begin working it into her belly, breasts and shoulders. Anne didn’t dare look; her nipples were already erect, she knew, and Fifi’s ministrations only made them harder. She had never liked people touching her breasts – didn’t even like touching them herself – but now Anne found herself enjoying it. Fifi was gentle and knowing and soon Anne didn’t want her to stop her gentle caressing. A rogue thought popped into her head – what would it feel like to have Fifi suck her nipples?

Now Fifi moved to the bottom of the table again and began massaging the front of Anne’s legs, calves, and thighs. Once again her hands travelled right up to her crotch, and once again she let her fingertips just brush Anne’s pubic hair, applying a gentle pressure to the lips of her pussy. And each time the fingers arrived they seemed to apply a little more pressure.

Despite willing herself not to respond, this regular friction was beginning to seriously arouse Anne. Never in her life had she actively fantasised about other women – certainly never about having sex with one. But there’ was something about this highly-charged erotic atmosphere and this gorgeous woman’s professional touch that allowed Anne’s free-wheeling mind to go places she’d never been before.

Suddenly the caresses stopped. Anne opened her eyes. Fifi was standing back from the table pouring massage oil into her cupped hand and rubbing it over her own breasts, belly and hips. As Anne watched, fascinated, Fifi climbed onto the table, her head over Anne’s hips, her hips over Anne’s face, and lowered herself on top of her …

Then Fifi performed a most remarkable body slide, rubbing her breasts over Anne’s tummy and hips and thighs, and her belly and groin over Anne’s breasts in such a way that Anne could feel that strip of pubic hair brushing her nipples like the gentle strokes of a piece of steel wool. Fifi then angled herself so that her own stiff right nipple slid back and forth across Anne’s pubic mound, nudging her clitoris, causing her pelvis to rise involuntarily and her tummy muscles to twitch.

But Anne’s mind wasn’t entirely focussed on the pleasurable sensations radiating from her groin or her breasts. Because Fifi had her knees planted on the table either side of Anne’s head and shoulders, Anne was given a close-up view of her pussy, and because most of the hair had been removed – other than the landing strip above her mound – Anne could see the sculpture and contours of her pussy lips in all their glory. She realised she’d never seen such a sight before. Hadn’t even looked at herself so closely. Yet she wasn’t shocked or disgusted, or appalled. Her state of arousal at that moment was such that it seemed natural. Actually it seemed to Anne almost like they were making love.

Then, to Anne’s disappointment, Fifi climbed off the table: “Did you like that?”

Anne couldn’t help but respond honestly, “Can you do it some more?” “Uh-uh; the hour’s nearly up, baby,” Fifi whispered. “Do you want me to finish you off?”

“Finish me off?”

“Do you want me to make you cum?”

Anne smiled at her, “I never cum, Fifi. Not even with my husband.”

Fifi smiled back at her, bent down and kissed her forehead, “Well there’s a first time for everything. Give me your hand …”

Anne extended her right arm. Fifi took it and placed it between her legs, beneath that landing strip. Anne felt her fingertips touch the lips she had been examining a moment ago. She was aware of light stubble. But mostly it was body heat she was feeling. Fifi held her hand there. “Put your finger inside me, baby. Go on -“

Anne had already crossed so many barriers in the last hour this command didn’t seem completely beyond the pale. Maintaining eye contact with Fifi she inserted her first finger between her lips and pushed it into her vagina. Which was very warm, very wet and very accommodating. Anne couldn’t look away from Fifi’s eyes. How could something so familiar feel so strange and so wonderful?

“See? I’m excited too. I want to make you cum, Anne,” Fifi said, lifting Anne’s hand to her mouth and kissing her inquisitive finger. “Open your legs, baby… trust me.”

Her reservations swept away, Anne moved her thighs as far apart as the table would allow. Fifi tipped another drizzle of massage oil into the honey-coloured thatch of Anne’s pubic hair and let it trickle its way between her swollen lips. And then the blonde woman cupped Anne’s pussy and began the slow and gentle job of bringing her to her first orgasm.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00353 515 73 20

Yorum yapın