Massage therapist for women
My stories are a cycle of true stories that have happened to me in my real life. Essentially, these stories are my life diary in which I haven't lied a single bit. Here is my first story, which happened to me very recently.
A Masseur for Girls.
I am 30 years old. I am married, live with my wife and child, and our sex life is excellent, but sometimes I want something besides sex with my wife, though I think, like any man.
I spend most of my time on work that I really like; in it, I can express myself, engage in creativity, be free, but as often happens with beloved work—it is low-paying.
It is precisely for this reason that I have to work part-time as a masseur in a salon.At one point, clients in my salon became fewer and fewer, and I had to come up with various tricks to lure clients into my salon. My calculation is aimed at married clients, to whom, depending on the situation, I added light erotic touches to certain parts of the girls' bodies in addition to a simple body massage. But only in such a way as not to embarrass them. If a girl made it clear (by arching, moaning pleasantly, or simply closing her eyes) that she wanted more than just touches, I began to act more boldly, actively stroking increasingly intimate places.
One fine evening, a regular client came to me. Medium build, nice tummy, short hair. And as usual, she undressed in front of me, despite the separate changing area behind the screen. Turning away from me, she remained in her underwear, which resembled a swimsuit more than lingerie. Wrapping herself in a sheet, she approached the massage table. With a familiar hand gesture, I pointed her to the chair; she sat down, resting her head on the table on her arms. I, having first applied a soft cream to my palms, began massaging her neck and shoulder area: shoulders, neck. I always did this responsibly, not paying attention to the fact that clients sometimes have to endure pain. But this time, after a couple of movements, I began to do a softer massage, trying to spread the cream over her body with light touches.
— Alla, you are especially relaxed today, probably everything at work has settled down, (she had previously told me about her problems at work);
— Yes, Andrey. Everything has settled down, so I came to you earlier today, thought you might be busy with other clients;
— No, Alla, today I only have you.
After these words, she turned her head in a special way, looked at me, closed her eyes, and pretended to simply adjust her uncomfortable posture. In that look, there was a flash of something, either joy or a feeling of interest in me.
Finishing the shoulder massage, I asked her to take her place on the table. She spread the sheet, lay on it with her bottom up, that is, with her back to me, habitually unfastened the straps of the top part of her underwear—her bra—and pulled down her panties a little, so that the dimple on her bottom was visible. I applied a bit more cream to my palms, this time a more warming and pleasant one for the body, but at the same time slightly tingling the skin. My clients especially liked this cream, and sometimes they even asked me to use exactly this kind of cream.
I began to massage with light, smooth movements, stroking her back, shoulders, arms, touching that very dimple on her bottom a little. I consider this dimple the most beautiful dimple on a girl's body; whenever another girl pulled down her panties, I couldn't take my eyes off it. While stroking Alla, I seemed to accidentally catch that dimple with my little finger and linger on it for a few moments. My client couldn't help but notice this but remained understandingly silent. Today I decided to experiment and not cause unpleasant, painful sensations for the client. I simply smoothed her back with the skin-arousing cream. And as I understood after a few minutes, she liked it. I continued. Gradually, I moved to her legs and a couple of times ran my hand over the bare part of her bottom.
Suddenly, unexpectedly, I suggested my client turn over. Usually, I don't massage the front part of the body. Alla, without asking unnecessary questions, without opening her eyes, and holding her bra, turned onto her back, continuing to press the top part of her underwear to her chest. I lowered her arms along her torso and started with them. Refreshing the cream on my hands, I smoothed her arms, doing it more and more gently. Then I moved to her shoulders, gradually moved to her stomach, stroked it, moved to her legs. I did this with special care, trying not to miss a single point on her body. I paid special attention to some points, stroking them for a very long time. Alla did not open her eyes; it was clear that she was relaxed and wanted more. Then, as if by accident, I touched her bra with my hand, shifting it slightly. Alla did not open her eyes. I repeated my movement.
She remained as before. Then I went over her whole body again and began massaging the muscles of her legs, increasing the pace. With each movement, her bra began to shift to the side, and then it completely fell off. Alla lay motionless and did not open her eyes. With my hands, I reached her breasts, touched them lightly at first, then more strongly, touching her nipples. Then, reaching the inner part of her thighs, I began to stroke as gently as possible there too; my right little finger, as in the case of the dimple on her bottom, seemed to accidentally slip under the narrow part of her panties, and I felt her lips with my finger. Under the panties, all the hair was neatly removed; there was only pleasant, delicate skin.
Seeing that Alla was not opening her eyes, I began to act more actively. I began to caress her lips through her panties with my hands; they were moist from her juices. But suddenly she stirred. Forgetting everything, I returned to massaging her stomach, then her arms. My fly, unnoticed by me, ended up positioned right in front of her eyes. She opened her eyes. I thought, well, that's it, I've done a lot of unnecessary things. But she did not lift her head from the table, only looked into my eyes, as if asking a question; I nodded affirmatively to her, not knowing myself what she wanted to ask or say. Then she lowered her eyes to my fly and slightly opened her mouth. I definitely understood her desire. I moved closer, confidently unzipped my fly, took out my tool—it was larger than average in size. And placed it right into Alla's mouth.
So erotically and tenderly did Alla take it into her mouth, barely touching the head of the penis inside her mouth with her wet tongue, that I unexpectedly came. My client also did not expect this, however, she froze and waited until absolutely everything came out of me, and she did not lose a single drop, despite her head being on its side. After that, I moved away from her. She raised herself on her elbows, smiling, looked around, then at me; I understood that she wanted to spit. I said, you can spit on the sheet. But she said nothing, closing her eyes, again rested her head on the table. Her body was waiting for a continuation. I immediately understood this and began to act actively. I moved her panties aside with my right hand.
How wet she was... With my right hand, with my fingers, I began to actively massage her inside, finding her clitoris. And with my left, I began to massage and press a little on her pubic area to increase blood flow to the lower part of her body. My movements began to accelerate; I did all this more actively. Alla's quiet moans were heard. And then she arched and came. I, still lightly stroking a little, continued my actions, then realized that my client was exhausted. I removed my hands and looked at her. She still held my juice in her mouth! Alla smiled at me and demonstratively swallowed everything that filled her mouth. And smiled at me. Then, as usual, she went to the shower and a couple of minutes later got dressed.
— Alla, this happened because we really wanted it. But we will continue the massage sessions;
— Okay, Andrey, see you.
That's how my story of one evening ends. Alla still comes to me for massages. And even recommended me to her friends. Whether she told them about what happened between us or not, I don't know yet; we'll see when they come to me for a massage session.
Author: Andrey Sintez, 2009.
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