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Fifty Five Minutes Massage

By: funtoppings



Somewhere between the "FUCK YOU" and the "YOUR MOM'S N'OLD HAG" and the "LAST TIME YOUR IDIOT BROTHER CRASHES IN OUR PLACE", Steven noticed that the rain sure had become more and more cerebral. It was like the skies and his wife were singing on the same tune. In a split second of quietness he was able to slip in a humorous thought of how maybe there should be a job opening for wife-whether-man. We're expecting sunny skies in the morning and a bad case of bitchiness as night grows near, he'd say. Not a good day to be taking your wife out for a vacation that's for sure. Steven was amused by the idea as a soft breath of a chuckle grazed his upper lip. But then another thunderous boom blasted in the darkly heavens and another fiery stare from his wife Helen and that weak grin collapsed back to a full-on scowl. Boy, what a miserable day those two were having.

The plan was simple and mapped out two months in advance. After sixteen months from their last vacation, which was so happen to be their honeymoon, Steven and Helen Cruise decided it was time for a much needed break. Since Steven started working as an accountant for a young internet-based company on Broadway and Helen got a job as an assistant for Martha Basil, a hotshot New-York wedding planner, the lives of this fairly young, childless couple, have become a complete and utter dull.

They decided on taking a weakened off- no work, no punching numbers in a calculator till your fingers goes raw, no calls in the late evening by a crazy bride-to-be who suddenly decides her favorite color is yellow and a call from an even crazier Martha who will tell you to call this person or that person so everything is changed because the bride changed her mind. No nothing.

Just serenity.

They will have a nice peaceful drive, they will eat good food in a fancy restaurant, they will get a nice soothing massage (Make sure you book us to a place with a spa, Helen told him with scintillating eyes, I'm dying to get a massage and be all pampered), at night they will make love and at day they will make some more.

And so our loving husband found a great little bed and breakfast in the serene town of Lock Haven, Pennsylvania- Tubman's Inn. Spa, tennis court, satellite TV, swimming pool, humble staff, Serenity. You name it.

But sometimes- shit hit the fan, as Steven would so eloquently say.

The drive started so nice, they were like two sixteen years old driving to the cinema, knowing that they're going to make-out for the first time, half way into the movie. They were chitchatting and laughing along the drive on how they were the oldest youngest-couple they know, and instead of flying to Hawaii or Vegas they prefer a nice quiet bed & breakfast in Pennsylvania. And as the car's fuel dial gradually dropped, so were little drops of rain who were accompanying them like an unwanted hitchhiker.

Little by little the skies drew cold and so was the conversation in the car.

It's hard to tell how it started, like all marital disputes. But this wasn't like all marital disputes, this was like a marital dispute riding a red Lamborghini and taking the highway instead of the Exit.

They began to talk about money and how Steven was too tight or was it Helen who was too loose and maybe it was about how screwed up Helen's family was or maybe it was that Steven liked his two shots of scotch before getting to bed or was it Helen who was the heavy drinker?

Whatever the case may be, a lot of closed doors with things-you-don't-say and a lot of locked closets with things you don't-ever-ever-say were opened and unleashed during this now hellish drive. And by the time they got to the Inn, it was looking less like a loving young couple looking for a new place to do the old bump and hump in the sack, and more like two escaped convicts who were locked in the same cell for a year , each for whacking off the other guy's family.

"Do you have a vacant room by any chance?" Helen said with a cold calmness to the elderly black receptionist at Tubman's Inn.

"You got to be kidding me. You want a separate room, what are you fucking mad?" Steven said with wrath, his voice fainting a bit when he cursed as to not to upset the old receptionist.

Helen turned her head halfway, eyes looking at the corner of the room. Her long black hair, a bit soggy from the rain when they ran from the car to the lobby, squashed against her face.

"You better fucking know it I'm getting a different room."

Steven could see waves of heat coming from his wife's temple, trying to somewhat deforest the icy exterior she was wearing.

He stared at her wondering if that was the woman he so loved and married and what did he see in her in the first place. Then he turned his head and she now was giving him a dead stare. In a moment of sudden sadness, Steven wondered if she was thinking the same thing about him. She Was.

"Well, you are in some luck tonight. We have 17 rooms in this place and only 5 rooms are taken for this weekend." The old receptionist said with soft words. "How about I give you a room for just tonight and tomorrow you will see how you wanna go about your day". She said reconciling.

Oh boy, Steven thought, another room another dollar. Maybe if I tell her I'll sleep on the floor in our room or a sofa than she'll change her mind, or maybe I'll pull out the old "I'm sorry babe" and things cool off till morning or maybe

"I'll take it!" Helen snapped.

Steven wiped his wet hair from his brow and gave a sad look towards the old receptionist, looking like a hound dog caught in a net, and she gave him a kind look in return.

Yep, sometimes shit hit the fan.

-----------



Helen dropped her luggage immediately as she entered her lonesome room.

She swung both her hands up in the air and then plummeted on the soft king sized bed, back first. It was like she played the role of a crooked banker in a really cheesy western and the sheriff finally gunned her down to end the show. The bullet hit her right between her shapely breasts and now she must fall back in an overly dramatic way on a stack of hay, or the bed in this matter.

She glanced silently at the room and instantly noticed it was hot as hell in it. She was still cold in her face and in her hands from the sudden thunderstorm they encountered along the way. Her hair and clothes still a bit moist.

A small headache started to build from the sides of her head like it always does when she get short-tempered.

Outside it was booming thunders and shooting rain, like a platoon of soldiers was shooting at an enemy inside of an old World War II tank.

She studied her room, still lying on the bed, looking at things upside down or from impossible angles. The room, much like the all place, was cabin-like. The floors were hard wood and the walls were washed yellowish stones. The big empty oak closet had a cool antique look to it, Helen thought, as well as both the nightstands. The entire room was mixture of brown and orange mixing up together as they flow on the heavy heat from the air-conditioner painting the room with an old-times-in-the-country type feel. 

She now began to feel sweat trickle down from her hairline.

My god this room is boiling, she thought for a second. The owners must have set the rooms to 100 degrees or something!

She rose halfway from the bed by leaning on her elbows.

One side of her brain told her to look for the air-conditioners remote or turn it off manually, but then another side (the more irrational side) in her brain told her that the warmth was fine and in a strange way, it was really soothing.

Helen swayed her head in a sort of a trance, her headache was bouncing to the right when she moved her head to the right and then bounced back to the left when she moved her head left. Soon enough, the heat will immerse the pain in her head, making the headache ooze from her ears with soft cold drops.

She looked down at her chest, where a shiny white puddle of sweat formed in her cleavage area almost completely covering her warm pink skin. She could feel the sweat forming under her white silk shirt. Tears of moisture made their ways to the nipples area, circling around her areola like they were following a curvy line. Helen's mouth started to form a small grin, same way stoners grin when they take a first puff.

The heat was intoxicating: She remembered there was a bad drive not longer than an hour ago, and a really sometimes-annoying-as-hell husband shacking just a couple of doors down the hall. But all those thoughts were beginning to form a sizzling mixture in her brain, boiling up an exploding in the smoldering heat of the empty room.

Her tongue softly brushed the forming crust on her upper lip. Eyes becoming watery as the eyelids feel heavier and heavier. Maybe even falling to a nice long nap...maybe she will succumb to the heat and like the hypnotist says in his most famous act- you will fall asleep in one...two...thr...NO! She jerked up.

Helen sat on the bed shaking her head, shaking that immense feeling of tiresomeness. She stood up, feeling completely heavy for a moment. The voiceless sound of the emptiness of her room made for an unpleasant atmosphere. She felt as she must put her body in some form of an active state--so she unpacked. When that was done she turned on the TV and stopped at the first music station she landed on. Now- a shower would probably do the trick.

She had a vision before they were coming here on how the first night they would take a long sensual shower together. She would soap his back and he will soap hers, and somewhere down the line Steven would draw her deep to his chest and then take one of his foamy fingers and put it right between her eyes, sliding his finger down and making a line of foam all across her nose. They will giggle.

But that won't happen now.

She looked at her cell phone resting on the nightstand. Steven didn't call, send her a message, knocked on her door, nothing. Probably sitting in his room, on the bed, maybe watching a dirty movie (if the motel gets those anyways). Whatever, she sighed.

Next to her cell phone was the room's telephone, probably to get in touch with reception- even though this place is so relatively small and solemn that she could most likely just open her door and shout to the old lady at the welcoming desk, then again she was pretty old looking. Also on the nightstand was a glossy pamphlet. Helen picked it up- the writing on it was almost blurry in the room's growing heat. It read:

 WELCOME TO TUBMAN'S INN, BED & BREAKFAST

WE INVITE YOU TO RELAX AND ENJOY THE PEACEFULNESS OF MOTHER NATURE IN ONE OF PENNSYLVANIA'S OLDEST RESORTS.

OUR STAFF LIVES TO SERVE YOU!

Underneath was the opening hours of the dining room – breakfast was 6:30 AM- 9:00 AM, lunch was 12:00AM-2PM and so on...

There was a price rundown of different things not included in the motel's room price. Helen glanced over the list, she had a hunch what she was looking for (massage), but she couldn't quite see a clear image of her thought. Her pupils were moving franticly within her sharp eyes. Moist began to form on the pamphlet under her thumbs. Her eyes widened:

TUBMAN'S INN SPECIAL MASSAGE: 55 MIN – 145$ (DIAL 1 FOR RECEPTION).

Another depressing thought ran through her head- making her lips tighten and her teeth to softly grind against each other. She imagined it before, how she and Steven would lay half-naked on one of those massage tables next to each other. They would be holding hands and stealing shy glances of one another from time to time. Steven might turn a bit a red like he always does when feeling a bit uncomfortable or bashful. 

Helen glanced back at her cell phone. Steven ain't calling- probably getting drunk from the cheap liquor in the mini-bar. He must be laughing his head off right now, on how I was able to ruin the first vacation we had since our honeymoon, with my bitching and bickering. His always calculated accountant brain already forming plans of attacks for tomorrow morning, she thought. Helen took a deep breath- sucking the almost fumy air in the room to her lungs. She picked up the Telephone and pressed 1.

"Reception," The old lady answered. Helen for some childish reason felt a surge of amusement.

"Hi, it's room 14. Wondered if it's not too late to get one of those massages you have written here on the brochure."

"Ho, not at all ma'am. We will be more than happy to send you a masseur to you room whenever you feel like one," the lady said kindly." I can send him to you room in an hour. Thirty minutes. Five minutes. You name it".

Helen felt like that "LEAVE TO SERVE YOU" motto was being taken more seriously in this place than in other places, or at least this kind old lady seemed to think so.

"Well, I was just on my way of hopping into the shower," Helen calmly said, "So twenty-five, thirty minutes, should be fine."

An earsplitting blast of thunder roared above the resort, like a roaring dragon flying over a medieval castle.

"Ho, those thunders..." the old receptionist murmured.

"This would be an added one hundred and forty-five dollars to your tab," she said quietly, almost apologetic. 

"O.K."

"Okay. I'll send him in thirty minutes. Enjoy and call back on every matter you feel like. I'll be here tiil' midnight." She said with a shade of raspiness in her voice that old people were having after talking for a long time.

"Okay, thanks a lot, bye-bye." 

Helen gleefully lowered the phone's earpiece to its place. She glared back at her cell phone with malevolent eyes. Picked up the phone and texted to Steven: GETTING A MASSAGE. Send....

Her feeling were mixed with uncertainty- did she notify him that, because she wanted to hurt him? Or maybe she didn't want him tomorrow, when cooler heads prevail, to look at his running tab and see: ho look, Steven, your selfish goddamn-wife ordered a fucking massage last night. Nothing says I love like doing stuff on your own.

She shook those thoughts from her head when growing anger crept up from the back of her mind. A massage- even if alone- would be just fine for her right about now. Actually it would be perfect. 



The storm outside was still a rumbling terror, painting the heavens with dark colors. 

Helen slid the gliding sapele-wooden door and entered the dim shower room. The fluorescent lights flickered as she clicked the switch, and the entire room came to life.

The shower room was amazingly white, almost blindingly. She was like Dorothy standing at the heart of the Emerald City of Oz.

A big wall-mirror at the western wall made the room look doubly large. In addition to her already tiresome and loopy state, she was now even more disoriented than before. 

The room was sparkly clean, like it was never used, almost like it was a promotional picture for a new cleaning product. 

The bathtub was a wide open belly of a hand-carved turquoise marble stone.

Helen slipped off her thong sandals and she was now making her way to the middle of the room in what almost felt like a hovering motion. She removed her silk shirt and dropped it carelessly to the white tile floor. A sudden burst of coldness speared through her body like a frozen cannonball in the belly, making her bra-covered breasts to heave up and down.

Her reflection in the mirror was now bright and glaring back at her as if there was a second person in the room. She looked back at her image and in moment of self indulgence she admired her well kept figure. Still at her early thirties, not old by any standards, but her body never felt so raw and fresh.

Helen unhooked her bra, resealing her bosoms from their lacy covers to the wide open room. Her nipples erected from the sense of chill, and she knew if another great thunder will burst through the skies- her nipples will indurate like chess pawns.

Helen bended her back towards the tub's faucet, it was a beautiful, two-handle, high-arced, roman-styled faucet made of polished brass.

Here boobs collapsing down as she bends, giving her a nice heavy feel in her chest.  

She turned on the water and corked the drain. The fumes were growing heavy from the pouring water almost instantly. Helen played with the hot and cold faucets to reach some sort of a reasonable blend, and finally she found it- but she did keep it mostly hot.

Her buff colored trousers were next to drop, leaving her with nothing on but her soft-fabric, blushing pink panties. Helen, at that moment, made for an astoundingly heart-throbbing sight. She moved around, butterfly-like in the shower room, which was fuming by the second creating an intoxicating hazy and vague feeling to the room much like the main bed room.

Her panties were snugly tucked between her firm butt cheeks. Only one thin triangular piece of fabric was covering her most libidinous flesh. 

With a quick motion, Helen slid two thumbs under the waistband and slowly removed her undies. Her pussy- once the most coveted and protected organ in her body was now stripped of its dignity and showered with vulnerability. Much like a lilac kept under shade, deprived of the sun, once the cover was down- it suddenly blossomed bright and shiny, releasing an arousing scent of aromatic freedom. At the top of it was a small puff of tangled dark hair.

Her panties were now crumpled useless at her feet as she stepped over them. 

Helen was finally a silky smooth naked figure- a grown, strong-minded woman that was peeled of all her armors and exteriors. She was a little tired, a little foggy, the soft pain in her head was now a small glimmer, but it was still there and for some, almost unexplained, reason- she was a bit horny.

Something in this place was filing her brain with salacious thoughts, making her nude body clench and a knot to be formed in her belly. She felt her pussy was oozing soft creamy moist from her labia and that ho-so familiar pleasurable aching inside that wanted a sense of fulfillment.

Helen closed the faucet (in the meantime the tub has filled up three-quarters deep) and went into the tub.

Blup! There was a dull sound and a light splash of water, as Helen sunk inside the open mouth of the tub. Hot, boiling, water was now covering her body from head to toe. The pores of her body opened like a million mouths and sucked all the heat inside like a sponge .She dipped her head in the water and rose it back up instantly- her dark hair and face were now drenched in water. A modern Eve taking a bath at her own private secret lake, she thought.

She grabbed a bunch of liquid soap packs (courtesy of Tubman's Inn, Bed & Breakfast), and emptied them all over her body and water.

God, this feels so good, she thought. And why the fuck am I so damn horny? Should I call Steven? Should I just tell him, let's leave all the bad shit behind us and have a wild act of make-up sex (a fuck, it feels more like a good hard fuck rather than sex).

Without noticing, her soapy hands were now traveling across her body- moving from her stomach down to her thighs and then all the way up to her neck. She dropped her head down to rest on the tub's tiles as if it was a sign of surrendering to her body. A soft, almost unintentionally vicious, grin formed on her face. Her eyelids were slowly closing. The warm water feels so good, she thought, soaking me with heat at every inch of my body. 

Both her thighs were now squeezing against each other, trying to somewhat subdued that immense tickle radiating from her clit.

The word MASTURBATION has suddenly flown over her head, with big capitol letters- each one shinier than a Christmas light. There was something stopping here. An adult married woman should not be sitting alone in a bathtub and fingering herself like a horny teenager, she thought. It's not on a par with her standards.

Standards or not, moments later she felt yet another pleasurable prickle from deep within her groin, resulting with another tightening of her thighs. Her hands were unawarely over her bellybutton, playing frantically with one another. They took a life of their own and slowly started to slide over her warm, smooth, skin down to her crotch area, trying not to get caught by the Brain as if they were a child reaching for the candy basket when he was being told not to. The feeling of being held back poked sharply in her head, and she could not find a way to release it.


Fifty Five Minutes Massage



Helen found herself in a half-dazed-half-conscious sort of state- her mind was almost completely clear of thoughts but her heart was pumping hard under her chest. She was in a dream-like condition- where rational thoughts were lost but unsorted pictures came to life. She began to see an image of a huge grass field under picture-like pale blue skies. At first she thought no one was there, but then she saw a sweaty naked couple having outrageously wild sex at the heart of it. If sound were to accompany her vision then it would probably be the sound flesh slapping hard against each other. It was her and Steven, she now realized. And this wasn't any fantasy sex- this was a highlight reel of the best sex these two have ever had since they got married. Or maybe it was a memory flash of the best sex they ever had period. And it wasn't just Steven's face she saw as the form of the guy who was ramming his cock in and out of her body: she saw Allen (they dated for a year, before she met Steven), and there was Roger (They dated back in College) and there was Marty (wearing the same leather jacket he was wearing ten years ago, when she met him at a bar and he took her to his place for what have been her one and only one-night-stand). Faces switched from old lovers to new ones, cocks transitioned inside her pussy. Nothing was imaginative about it- they moved in her head the same way they moved in her real life, back then. Familiar, yet rare sensations of divine pleasure one's gets to feel sporadically during one's life span.



Under the water her palms formed a fist. Her pussy was trembling with unfulfilled pleasure. But in her head it was fulfilled, in her head- cocks of different shape, males of different body were oozing with sweat trying to make her reach the point of climax.

Helen's left hand reached up to her right breast and she began to squeeze on her nipple. Not one long pinch- but a series of presses at tune with the beatings of her heart. Each press sent jolts of pleasure down her spine all the way to her knees. She never knew her nipples were so sensitive, and how much arousing pleasure was stored inside them.

Her pelvis was moving forward, sinking her body deeper in until her lips were at water level.

The other free hand was now cupped over her pussy. Her thumb was twirling and twisting over the pubic bone, curling up under small unshaven spot of hair above her dripping cunt. Her vagina was absorbing hot water from all angels making the sensation of pleasurable twinge to grow even harder. Even her anus, once a tight opening, now became loose and soft as the water soaked up on its flesh.

Her right hand was now sliding its self up and down her pussy- the tip of her middle finger was traveling from her clit to her anus, back and forth. 

Her heart became a burning sun under her chest. Her body was quivering as she gasped for air and got water in her mouth, unintentionally.

"Ho god," she whispered. Her voice was cutting through the silent room like cold blade.

She opened her eyes and tilted her head left, where she saw her image reflecting from the mirror. Something clicked in her head and as she shifted up a little. She threw both her arms up in space like someone pointed a gun at her. Her hands were scraping the air as if they were, mechanically, still programmed to rub her skin, until she finally landed her arms on the sides of the tub. 

Her heart was still pounding and her thoughts were still racy.

Once again her head collapsed backwards and she released a giant sigh.

Her lower body was a pile of mush under the water. Her pussy was still burning like an un-extinguished flame. She will not tend to it any more. 

She would only orgasm in her head.

For now.

----------

That woman is just crazy, so goddamn crazy! Steven thought to himself. I mean I plan this all vacation out for us, pick up the place, drive all the way from New York for over three fucking hours, and for what?

"For fucking what?" he spoke out loud unconsciously. The sound of his voice in the empty room made him feel a little nervous for a second.

He was sitting on his king-sized bed (big enough bed for you and the missis!), in almost complete darkness. The only light came from the night lamp besides him, spreading a dim, dark-orangey blanket of light.

His back rested vertically at the top of the bed and his tired feet were poised straight on the mattress. The room was beginning to fill up with a sour stench of his socks, still on his feet. It was a smell, a man knew at the end of the day- that it was the end a long and grueling fucking day. 

If his wife was here she would probably tell him to throw his socks away and hop to the shower room for a much needed bath, with that stinging tone in her voice, he thought. Well, you ain't here, little lady.

He reached for the remote that was resting on the nightstand and clicked on the TV. The blue light projecting from the screen was as unpleasant for his eyes as being stabbed in his pupils with ice picks.

On the screen he saw an evangelistic zealot talking passionately to his band of followers about mambo-jumbo that Steven never believed in.

Steven shook his head slightly, looking at the screen with thin eyes. 

He flipped the channel and it was Animal Planet- Mother Lioness and Father Lion are roaming the arid lands of Africa, looking for food to feed the young'ns. He wondered if Mother Lioness also likes to bitch a lot to Father Lion when they embark on their little adventures.

(I wonder if this place gets porn)

The camera zooms on an unsuspecting zebra. Taking her final few breathes, Steven thought. And as sure as hell, the lioness leaps up in the air and tackles the zebra down to the ground with all her might. Dinner is served.

At the sight of a pack of feral animals dinning from the torn flesh of another animal, Steven flipped the channel.

(porn)

Home Shopping Network- No more back pain with the new and amazing- Relax-O-Chair! The commercial screamed. There was a guy there that really wasn't happy with his current chair- he crunched, and groaned, and held his lower back with one hand and the back of his neck with the other. Steven smirked at the sight of the guy's outlandish over acting. Click!

(Nice bed & breakfast like this don't get the nude channels, Steven, and if they did the owners would probably scramble the channel so you couldn't see it).

History Channel. Steven actually enjoys this channel more than others back at home. War facts, crime tales, global escapades; it was all riveting stuff. He felt bored enough to explore the channels some more, but if nothing good pops up, I'll return to this one, he thought. Click!

Black and white comedies. Click! Music channels. Click! News Channels- some guy was eaten by a shark in Australia. Steven shivered a bit. Click! The 88' NBA Playoffs. Click! Cooking Channel. Click!

The blonde female had, what must have been, the most gigantic pair of breasts, Steven has ever seen. The guy was pumping his cock in and out of her narrow asshole. It was making her boobs jiggle left and right and she bellowed a loud moan of pleasure. Steven fumbled with the remote before he quickly hit the MUTE button. He found porn.

The thought of stumbling upon a porn channel was indeed buried somewhere in his mind, but it was almost an unintentional thought and now that he did find it, what was he to do.

His wife was only a few doors down the hall from him, most likely mad as hell at him and he was sitting in his room watching a porn flick. If Helen could have seen him now she would burst up in flames from anger, he thought. But damn that girl has a massive set of tits!

The fellow was lying on the hood of a car, his long shaft pointing towards the skies as the blonde bombshell jumped on top of him- each time she dropped, she was swallowing his entire cock inside her ass.

Steven amused himself with idea that the girl must have one of those ridiculously corny porn names like: Lola HardKnockers, or Jessica Honkers.

The blonde was rubbing her clit furiously, and her poor anus was being demolished by the young man's cock. She at least seemed to enjoy it- the volume was muted, but it was very apparent that she was screaming her lungs out. It was one of those over-the-top, only-in- porn, type of a scream, Steven thought.

Now they switched positions- the well-endowed female was on her back laying on the car's hood and opening her legs welcomingly. Her swollen pussy was opening its mouth; its lips looking really worn, and it was giving all a clear view of her rosy cervix. The guy grabbed her in both thighs and pushed himself forward, spearing his cock inside her warm opening.

It was at that point that Steven's cynicism crept forward from the back of his mind. He began to see the artificialness of the entire thing in front of him, even releasing an amused grunt out loud, that didn't sound convincing at all. Almost as unconvincing as the notion that the porn flick didn't have any influence on him. But it did, and he knew it, because under his jeans he began to feel that all too familiar transformation.

It felt like someone was shrinking his pants two sizes down, and his organ was getting crushed by its pressure. His cock was becoming stiffer and stiffer underneath. 

The guy on TV was ramming his own good wood in and out of her cunt, and with his free hands he grabbed on to her colossal veiny tits for leverage.

Steven was adjusting his position on the bed- his cock was growing so big that it was pushing the flyer of the jeans towards his bellybutton.

He watched with glazed eyes as the female dropped on her knees and opened her mouth to the young man.

The guy on the screen was rubbing his cock, now blood-red and ready to burst, and after a few pumps of the fist he released thick wads of semen straight to her waiting mouth and tongue. The camera zoomed on the blonde's shiny new face and

Steven's cell phone suddenly beeped.

His heart jumped five feet out of his chest. The sound of the phone was vibrating in the air, cutting through the silence of the room. 

Steven felt like he was twelve-years-old again, and his mom caught him with a pack of nude ladies playing-cards.

The screen was blank, without even noticing he punched the ON\OFF button, as soon as the first tune burst out of his cell. He rubbed his eyes and waited for the redness, which suddenly washed his face, to fade off.



This is ridicules, Steven thought, jumping like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar. Now who the hell is texting me a message at this time? I suppose it could be Helen, but she looked downright mad-as-hell with me earlier so I somehow doubt it.

But it was a message from Helen.

All that Steven saw were three words: GETTING A MASSAGE.

Steven felt indifferent about it, almost didn't care at all. Okay, get your massage, he thought.

"Who gives a fuck," he groaned softly.

Steven felt his hard-on softening under his pants, feeling much like a hot air balloon being gunned by a rifle.

He sat on his bad silently with thoughts running thru is mind, it was only for about ten seconds, but with the complete dead-silence in the room it felt to him much longer.

Steven grabbed the pamphlet from the nightstand and looked it over with sharp eyes, small frown on his face. At the bottom half of the page he saw what he was looking for:

TUBMAN'S INN SPECIAL MASSAGE: 55 MIN – 145$ (DIAL 1 FOR RECEPTION).

If you are getting one then I see no reason why I shouldn't, he thought.

He suddenly felt his lower back tensing behind him, his shoulders becoming two stiff rocks and his neck bone transformed into hard metal.

It was like his body was giving him a sign of approval- you need a massage Steven, it's your vacation too, enjoy it.

Steven called the receptionist and ordered a massage to his room as well. He told her to give him twenty minutes or so, so he can take a shower- it has been a long day.

When that was settled, he threw his hands in the air and stretched his back. 

He glared at the dark TV screen, looked at his wrist watch and thought that maybe he should check for one last time what was happening in Porn-Ville, before hitting the shower- he did have twenty minutes before the masseuse came, that's more than enough time.

He clicked open the TV and the naked people were still there doing more of that good-old fucking thing they like to do.

It looked like this time they were in some kind of a big, empty warehouse that looked cold and metallic. There was a dude with shoulder length blonde hair and a tiny goatee and he was doing it doggy-style with an extremely attractive brunette with voluptuous breasts. In front of the brunette was a very attractive middle-aged woman with smooth honey toned skin and a large set of tits, sitting with her legs wide apart and being eaten by the dark haired girl.

The brunette was devouring on the woman's open pussy like a starving dog- her tongue was going up and down the length of the oozing vagina, throwing in a couple of kisses to the clit for good measure.

The guy was holding on the brunette's pelvis and was giving her a nice back and forth action from the back, sometimes causing her to stop her labia munching for a soft sounding moan and a gasp of air.

The older woman threw her head backwards with glowing ecstasy, one hand massaging her puffy nipple and the other resting on the floor for some leverage.

Steven thought that her eyes were giving her age away and she must be at least forty-five-years-old, but her tanned well-kept body was more astoundingly irresistible than most of twenty-years-old he usually sees. 

The brunette had milky-white skin; her hair was dark and full, and her lips were coated with an eye-popping, red-cherry lipstick.

The camera zoomed on her face- a sheaf of sweaty hair covered her eyes, and her chin and lips were painted with a layer of shiny female juice.

Steven felt that stiffening felling again under his jeans.

The guy was working faster and faster from the back- his pelvis bouncing back and forth from her soft buttocks like it was trying to start a fire underneath. The brunette drove her face even harder towards the older lady's crotch, as if the harder the man worked his cock in her pussy the more she wanted to feed on female juices.

The mature woman, who was making almost uneasy faces like you made when you were either in severe pain or in that fragile line of uncontrollable feeling of pleasure, slammed both her thighs on the younger girl's head- locking her head to her snatch.

From the guy to the brunette to the older looking woman- it was like a human chain of ecstasy and sweat.

Steven's left hand was a fist in it was pushing lightly on his crotch- his penis was becoming burning red underneath, his lower muscles contracting with pleasure.

He did not masturbate, nor did he go to take that shower. 

For the following twenty minutes he just set on the bed and watched his porn with the thunders and rain as his soundtrack.

In fact, he completely forgot that he ordered a massage.

-----------

A knock on the door.

The rain has been pouring down hard for over three hours all over the serene city of Lock Haven, Pennsylvania, where a nice little bed and breakfast by the name of Tubman's Inn was shaking at the lightning and trembling at the thunders. And over there, at room 14, the silence was stronger than anything, almost so out of place it was like the room was at a parallel universe .The only sound, or maybe a hum, you could hear in this room, not the rain nor the exploding thunders, it was the soft buzz from the air conditioner which was exhausting thick and steamy hot air, and the soft sounds from a television set (its volume down almost all the way), where Roy Acuff was signing about the "Wabash Cannon Ball" in the oldies music channel.

Another knock on the door.

And in that room, soaking in the bathtub like an angel fallen from the heavens onto the waters of the Mediterranean, was a beautiful woman by the name of Helen Cruise.

The sound of knocking on the door was nothing more than a flat poke in her meditating state, where naughty and deviant visions were being screened on the back of her eyelids for the last...how long? Five minutes? Ten minutes?

Like a chain reaction- finally the knocking sound has been triggered in her ear, making her heart flip in its place, snapping her eyes open like window shutters. When her eyes opened it felt like she had jumped from one reality to another.

"What...Oh shit..." She whispered, trying to get a sense of placement. 

There was a voice on the other side of the door.

She has dozed off, apparently, and completely forgot the massage she has ordered.

"HO, just a minute! I'll be right there!"

Next to the mirror, she saw a white fleece bathrobe tossed on a hook, with the words TUBMAN'S INN sewn over it with gold letters. The robe jumped to Helen's eyes as if the room knew exactly what she needed.

She got up from the bathtub, her lungs shrinking with the burst of coldness, and put on the robe. The fleece felt wonderful on her body, it warmed her up instantly and it soaked the water nicely from her skin.

She went inside the main bed room with haste; her breasts were jiggling under the robe, the nipples were grazing gently against its fabric.

The room was still very hot, so hot that Helen felt it almost instantly dried her body and hair as if she stepped inside a room where instead of walls there were giant blow-dryers.

On the floor, next to her bed, was one of her luggage she brought along with her. It was open, and a lot of it was emptied out earlier, but some items were still there (some lotions, some pills, half empty bottle of water and her unmentionables).

Helen grabbed a fresh pair of panties and slipped on to it. At the moment the fabric of the panties made touch with her pussy, Helen felt her knees buckling under her.

Her pussy was still very much raw and tender and whatever feelings and thoughts went into her head once she entered the shower room, they were still with her. 

Get a hold of yourself girl, she thought, they're waiting for you at the door and this is the last thing you want to be thinking about before getting a massage. You're a strong and classy lady, so just try to relax.

"Just one more second!" 

She took a big breath, feeling very much exposed under her robe. But she had massages before, and she knew that it would be expected of her to strip down to, at least, her briefs.

She closed the waist-tie and made it into a little knot, and went for the door.

Helen put her hand on the door knob, looked back at her room to make sure nothing strange was out of place, and at last opened the door.

The man who stood In front of her was a very tall and young-looking black man.

He had a very pleasant expression on his face; his eyes were like two milky marbles under his chocolate-colored skin and his lips were giving a kind smile, so genuine you couldn't teach it at acting schools.

Helen studied him; looking up and down, he was very tall, and he felt very nice to her almost immediately. His kind smile was infectious and she found herself smiling as well almost to the point of giggling.

He wore a white uniform, with the motel's name stitched to his shirt. Both his arms were busy- the left one held onto a dark, nylon tote bag and the right one held on to a folded massage table, that looked like a big blue suitcase to Helen at first.

"I'm so sorry I kept you waiting, please come in," she said calmly, as if the woman that scorned her husband just an hour ago was nothing more than her mean double from another world.

The man nodded his head and stretched his smile just a little bit more as he went inside the room.

Helen observed him quietly, as she closed the door behind him. He was really tall, probably over 6'6 she thought, his body was rather slim but his arms looked strong and muscular, especially after carrying those two heavy bags. It was hard for her to tell his age, but if she had to take a guess it was somewhere in the twenty-five-years ballpark.




Fifty Five Minutes Massage



Helen was grinning, but she was hardly aware of it, and under her robe she began to feel sweat again because of the warmness in the room. She suddenly realized that it might make the gentleman before her a bit unpleasant-

"I'm sorry it's so hot in here, I'll lower the temperatures. No idea why I kept it so ridiculously warm." 

"No, it's Okay," his voice was soft and composed and made Helen stop in her place as she drew her look back to him."I actually find it very relaxing, and it will go well with these scented candles I brought.

From his black tote bag he took out two scented candles, of different shape and color. Helen's eyes grow big at the sight of them and her smile was widened.

"Wooow, I didn't know you're going to be using these. This is so cool."

He laughed politely in return.

Helen sat on her bed and just marveled at him as he masterfully made her cabin-looking guest room into a steamy and aromatic massage parlor.

The suitcase unfolded into a massage table in just under a minute. Nice little gizmo, Helen thought.

He positioned one candle on the television stand, and the second one he put on a desk that was under a small wall mirror.

She observed his hands, which in no more than a matter of minutes will be rubbing on her flesh; his fingers were long and dark, his nails looked polished and trimmed and they had a bright pinkish tone. They looked like good, gentle hands to her.

He worked very quietly, and Helen felt that if someone doesn't say anything right now, she would burst up in giggles from uneasiness.

"I'm Helen, by the way."

"Hello Helen. I'm Marvin," he smiled and turned his face towards her direction. 

Helen couldn't hold the laughter in her stomach after that and she let out healthy giggle sound, and Marvin did as well.

After that Marvin, went back to the set up portion of the massage and Helen still kept her eyes on him. She wrestled a thought down in her brain, but eventually that thought kicked thru- Marvin, was a in fact, a nice looking man in her eyes. That made her think immediately of Steven and some sadness grew in her belly. Her mind trailed off with some thoughts, but all of that quickly disappeared when a strong scent of lavender invaded her nose.

"That's lovely," She said, reacting to the now-lit candles.

"You can hop on now, Helen," he said and gestured with his hands at the table.

Helen nervously walked towards the table and put both her hands on the robe's waist-tie, she glanced over her shoulder where Marvin stood holding a large white towel to her back, like a magician would hold to his assistant before the disappearing act. His head was tilted backwards so she he wouldn't make her feel uncomfortable and that made him look more precious in her eyes. 

She unrobed and positioned herself on the table front first, squashing her breasts against the table's surface. Behind her, Marvin covered her back with the towel, and when she finally had good laying position, he folded the towel to her waist-line, exposing her back to him but keeping her buttocks and thighs still covered.

Helen's head was titled to her left, almost making contact between her chin and left shoulder, and her arms rested at the sides of her body.

Last time she had a massage, which was a long time ago, she had her head stuck in one of those holes that some massage tables have, and she didn't like it all that much back then, so this was much better in her eyes.

She found the table to be much wider than she originally thought, with a lot of arm and leg room. Her heart was bouncing like a ping-pong ball from the table to her chest; she was much more excited to get the massage than she originally thought.

Marvin was oiling his hands with warm and soothing massage oil.

When his big hands finally made contact with her body, it felt to her as if something showered her internal organs with radiating and pleasurable heat. 

The oil was warm, and his hands moved with ease, feeling soft as silk over her back.

He coated her entire upper body with the warm oil- from the top of her neck to her lower back; both her arms were grazed gently with lubricant. Her body, now receiving a nice and healthy shine, was like raw and tender meat, ready to be molded to a delicate dish by its chef.

The oils sizzled on her skin, and she could feel her muscles softening around her bones. 

The strong scent of lavender glided in the hot air and surrounded the room with its powerful aroma, making the room smell like a flower garden being rained down by marshmallows.

Marvin put his big hands on the sides of her body, both his thumbs positioned at sides of her spinal cord. He then continued to slide his hands all the way up, from her lower back to her neck- his thumbs pressing against the sides of her backbone and making each one and one of the segments in her spine feel like it was made of rubber.

The feeling was so incredible it made Helen gasp for air and, and to, a much noticeable, tremble in her legs.

He did it five more times and by the time he brushed his hand for the fourth time against her back she was sure her body turned to Jell-O.

His hands rested on her right shoulder and the base of her neck and by using his thumbs he began to make slow, calculated, tiny circles over the area, working firmly into her muscles.

Helen felt knots in her neck kneaded into mush, little glands of tension shatter into a puddle. When he felt he was done with her right side he asked her to turn her head and he did the some to her left.

All the time Helen kept her eyes closed- she saw darkness mixed with shapes and colors and smells. A small droll spot formed at the sides of her lips, and her belly once again began to tie into a soft knot like it did earlier when she went into the shower.

She was hot, but not just because of the ventilated heat; she was hot because the man touching her semi-naked body, made her feel real good, maybe better than she have felt for a long while.

Marvin continued his work with grace, and exquisite technique.

His hands moved with such gentle care and sensual pleasure, in a way almost un-man like, Helen thought.

He wrapped both his hands, once more dabbed with oils, around her left arm and began to brush down his hands from the top of her arm to the base of her palm. In the middle he would massage the muscles around her bones into a fine tissue. And then do it again to her opposite side.

A massage is a great device to clear all the tension and stress in one's life, a great way to relax and rejuvenate your body to its peak-condition, and Helen knew that. But this massage, while it did all that, it also felt very sensual to her. The heat and aroma in the room were so intoxicating that she knew that in a way she wasn't thinking in a right-mind. She also knew that she was a much stronger person than to succumb to her urges so easily. But with each more rub- her will faded, her protecting shell broke and her hunger grew.

His hands were right above the towel-line, and he continued to wiggle his fingers over her body in comforting motions. She felt his hands move real close to her more personal areas, and her heart skipped a couple of steps. 

(Maybe he will go a bit lower...)

Marvin began to work on her legs- he brushed his oily hands all over her feet, his fingers traveled between her toes and then the most amazing thing happened: he began to squeeze gently on her toes- both his hands worked on one digit at a time. Helen never knew the amazing implications of a foot-massage and without noticing, her body began to quiver.

Jolts of pleasure were sent from her pinky to her knee like lightning, and from her knee the pleasurable vibration worked its way up until it stopped at her crotch, where a burning-red vagina was beginning to exude creamy juices all over Helen Cruise's panties and leg.

The man continued to work on her tiny toes, and almost breathless, Helen thought, that if he doesn't stop it now, she might just very well send a hand under her briefs and start rubbing at her clit.

But the man did not stop- he rubbed her toes, poked at her joints and massaged her sole and ankles. He used a measured amount of pressure with each stroke- starting off gently, but increasing the force each time.

Helen's hands formed a sweaty fist and she pressed them hard against the surface of the table. She wasn't sure how she looked like from the outside, she might look like any other client Marvin had on his table over the years, but inside she knew what she felt- inside her bones turned into rubber and her clit was a glowing bubble, blowing more and more each and every second.

When Marvin finished the foot-massage and dropped her feet- Helen felt like she's been through a twenty-four-hour sex-marathon, where the guy left her before she could ever reach an orgasm. Her body was no more, now, than tenderized flesh and glowing heat.

There were a dull couple of seconds, where Marvin lobed up his hands some more, and Helen forced her eyes open to see what's going on.

The room was a big blur to her- from her point of view she saw the door (although it looked nothing more than a big brown oblong shape in her fuzzy condition), She saw a desk with the white scented candle on it (she could of sworn the smoky aroma from the candle was moving like a snake towards her face). 

How long has passed since we started? She wondered. Her sense of time was warped.

Marvin moved around her, he was such a large individual yet she was amazed how deathly-quiet his movements were.

He stood right next to her face and began to work on her left shoulder-blade with two hands wrapped over it like he was molding pottery.

She suddenly found herself staring dead-on at Marvin's crotch- she glared at it, and her mind began to wonder...

It was still raining outside. The small cabin in the forest atmosphere the room induced, actually made Helen think she was in some sort of solitude.

Marvin was still working on her back.

(and things done in solitude are never to be spoken again)

After that he moved to her thighs.

(we are stranded under the heavy storms. Nothing coming in, nothing coming out).

The towel was raised up- now only her buttocks are covered.

(nothing in, nothing out)

His thumbs and fingers worked around her upper-legs section.

(in and out)

The more his hands moved higher and higher on her leg, the more she felt that tickle in her pussy.

(in and out, it has such a sexy connotation to it )

And then he moved the towel completely.

Her breath stood still in her lungs and her body froze.

She wore silky-white panties- nicely tucked between her fleshy cheeks.

The possibility that Marvin was not only staring at her mildly-bare ass, but may also be staring at a wet spot on her panties, made Helen stiff.

But Marvin kept quiet. He messaged her buttocks gently- his palms moved in circular motions on her cheeks, making a vibration felling in Helen's body.

His movement was limited because of her underwear and he couldn't work on her entire derriere, but what he managed felt good.

A speck of drool dripped from Helen's mouth to her hair and she could actually hear it break. 

Marvin hands, warm and slippery, made their way to her groin area.

His index finger, rubbing against her flesh, was just a finger-nail from the fabric of her underwear. Just a finger-nail away from rubbing the most tender spot in her body.

Just a finger nail...

And what did he see there? Helen dazedly questioned.

Did he see the wet spot? He must have.

Did the odor of passion from my pussy overcome the intoxicating aroma from the candles?

Martin rubbed and rubbed at her crotch. First slowly, like a swing going up into the air--and then down. Up-- and down. Up-- and down.



But then his movement paced quicker. And quicker. And quicker.

This is it, Helen thought.

She wiggled her hands from the jolts of sensation her body was feeling, but did no more than that.

And the faster Marvin moved his finger at her crotch- the closer it moved towards her panties, towards her burning-red slit.

It moved so quickly now that Helen felt fire growing from underneath.

A fire so great and wild that the only way to overcome it was to shower it with her juices, which dripped out profusely from her pussy by now.

And then his right index finger made its way to her swollen pussy, and it made touch.

Helen panted.

He rubbed her back with his left hand, making circles of hot oil all over it, so warm it melted into her belly. But he's right hand...

He's right finger... It made contact with her pussy.

Her panties were stretched aside (just at the crotch), and his finger now began to rub at her moist (very moist) and tender pussy-lips.

Helen eyes were closed and her lips were bitten.

(Maybe if I don't look. Maybe if I don't speak. Maybe I can just enjoy it).

She felt weak everywhere, but not in a bad way, but in a wonderful way.

The finger was now rubbing at her clit like lightning, her legs shivered endlessly.

She had felt that big knot growing inside her belly and she knew what it was.

She knew that any second now, she would explode with such an orgasm that it might make heart stop in its place.

It will be an orgasm so powerful- greater than she had ever reached before. Greater than those she envisioned in the shower earlier, by leaps and bounds.

There were no more places for delusions. 

She wanted him to finish her, and finish her now, because there is so-much that her body could handle. I want his cock, she thought. I want him to fuck me, and finish me, because I can't handle this teasing no more. I'm seconds away from passing out from that enormous feeling of pleasure coming from my pussy. My clit is burning up- he just brushes over it and then moves his finger away. He teases me constantly and I can't seem to hold it in (hold what in? my senses, my juices, my orgasm).

Helen panted some more. Her arms and legs were twitching with the amount of uncontrollable sensations.

Please fuck me, she thought. Fuck me.

"Fuck me..." she whispered softly. Her voice came out like a broken glass from her dry throat. 

She did not open her eyes, nor did Marvin respond. He just continued to paint her pussy red, as the blood rushed to her vagina and clitoris.

Soft muffled sounds escaped from Helen.

She ground her nails onto the canvas-surface of the table.

An inch of Marvin's index finger wedged itself between Helen's swollen pussy lips and it made its way inside her warm and drippy opening.

When his finger slid up and down this time it was accompanied by a slimy squishing sound.

Helen jerked her legs as her hips went into convulsion. It was like being tickled in your feet by feathers- it feels so good you want it to stop.

And then he did.

His finger was out and Marvin took a step backwards, making Helen open her eyes for the first time since the erotic-portion of the massage began.

She guided her eyes towards him, never moving her head from the table, and their eyes finally locked. He had the same gentle expression in his face like before. Same inner-calmness she saw in him the moment she opened the door for him. Her body was a quivering mess and this dark stranger is the one at fault, the man to blame, the one who drew more from her than anyone before. Her eyes looked at him in a pleading manner, as she bit softly her bottom lip.

Only thing she could have thought was: Please, don't stop.

"Turn over" he said in a voice that was something of a whisper.

Helen did not question, but just did as she was told.

She felt heaviness as she turned, and her body-parts felt so warm when they touched each other: leg against leg, wrist against chest. Warmth.

She laid on her back and her breasts were now perking up like mountains under humid skies.

A lump was caught in her dry throat and it did not go up or down, just froze there, like the rest of her. Frozen.

Marvin oiled his hands some more and then began to rub oils all over her chest and belly.

Her eyes closed again.

The feeling of his hands lubricating her breasts and nipples, which were stiffening more and more, was a new realm of pleasure.

He moved close to her face, as his huge shadow covered her head and he began to press softly on her nipples.

"Mfff..." some more of that muffled sounds escaped Helen as she quivered.

He pressed the nipples again, with just a little tighter pinch.

"Ah..."

She felt that lightning traveling across her backbone and striking her with full force in her clit every time he squeezed her nipples.

He began to twirl both nipples between his thumb and index finger of each hand, reaching yet another peak of excitement in Helen's body.

The stimulation to her nipples was amazing and it made her body feel like it was buzzing from electricity.

She wanted him so badly to show her his cock. Just slip it out and shove it inside her. 

His big hands now tried to grab both of her entire tits with one grasp.

The breasts felt like putty in his hands and he squished them, and mashed them and massaged them under his gentle hands.

When her nipples finally stood raw and stiff like stones, and their color was glowing-pink, he decide to slide his hands down slyly across her belly and down to her crotch.

All the time Marvin moved around her like a sculpture targeting his statue from all angles and from different positions, moving swiftly and peacefully across the hard-wooded floor.

His hand grabbed the waistband of her panties, and Helen did not flinch, she did not open her eyes, she just raised her pelvis an inch from the surface and let him unravel her burning attraction.

The pussy was shining with anticipation.

It was already soaked wet like a leaf in the rain, and the vulva was puffed and swollen, a red shade of sensation all around it.

Curls of pubic hair were drenched by the moist of massage oil and sweat.

Helen finally decided that strong odor of sex coming out of her pussy defeated the spring-times scent from the candles with a whooping knock-out.

Marvin shoved his middle and ring finger inside her vagina and a squishy sound and pumping veins welcomed them in. With two of his fingers in, he resumed his up and down motions from earlier. Her clit in the meantime has ballooned into a bright bulging ball.

With his free hand he began to rub at her clit, softly resting his palm over her pubes.

"Ho...God..." Helen began to cry with pleasure. Her legs bended and then she just kicked them in the air with ecstasy.

His always maddening method of teasing her slowly and then quickening the pace was yet again in affect. Every time his two-fingers slid their way up between her lips and grazed the clit, it made Helen convulse in pleasure.

He slowly slithered his fingers down, and then slowly back up- to ring the bell. And that bell always rang. It rang so hard it was vibrating unstoppably. 

His motions picked up pace, and as they did he shoved his fingers further in, until her pussy swallowed both of them.

Inside her snatch he folded his fingers up a bit, and he could feel the walls of the cervix pumping and pulsing against his fingers. With rapid motions, he began to flicker his fingers along the tight mouth of her pussy, making Helen moan and shudder every time it went up and every time it went down. 

His other hand massaged the clit furiously, puffing it up even more.

The juices secreted out of her hole as if it was a drooling mouth.

Her heart was booming under her chest and it seemed to pump with the same rhythm as the fingers in her vagina.

Her breathing was that of an Olympic sprinter before the finish line. And she was before her finish-line; she felt like that knot in her belly was about to burst, she felt her uterus contracting hard, and a force, almost unknown to her, was seconds from being unleashed. 




Fifty Five Minutes Massage



Her moans grow louder and louder and they eventually turned to screams.

Screams so loud they came out like blades scraping her throat.

Her back arched and her legs quivered. She felt an uncontrollable urge to gush out fluids in the form of a forcible stream. What is this? WHAT AM I FEELING? I'm about to blow, IM ABOUT TO BLOW.

Marvin's fingers worked their way with gun-shot quickness, he felt her tremble, contract and...

He drew out his fingers.

In a sudden flashing moment Helen's mind went completely blank and all she saw were bright pinkish-purple colors, and that wide grassy field under the picture-like blue skies.

"AHHAAAAAA!!" she came with a roaring bellow as she squirted streams and streams of creamy and concentrated vaginal fluids.

It was the first time was ever able to reach such a level of climax that her body squeezed out juices in such force and power. In the seconds after that she felt as if someone had stuck her naked inside a freezer as she was shivering all over. But she was not cold; she was warm and sweating like mad, in fact.

She felt tenderness all through her body and her crotch and legs twitched for several minutes after. Her heart was accelerating, even after the fact, and her breathing was hard and heavy, causing her breasts to heave up and down. 

The orgasm she had was like an electrical shock, and it didn't want to fade away. The only thing she could do was lay there and quiver.

But her sexual appetite, her carnal desire, it also did not fade away.

She wanted more, she could handle more. 

I must have more, she thought. I need him to fuck me.

Marvin kept quiet the all time. He took off his shirt and moved next to Helen's head. She looked at him softly, her eyes were sparkling sapphires.

She looked high; high from pleasure, high from orgasm.

Her mind was a blank, but the hands seemed to function on their own- they began to unzip Marvin's trousers. And then just reach under his briefs and pull it out, so she did.

Helen gasped.

It was very big.

----------



"You're carrying a lot of tension in you." The masseuse said with her girlish voice.

Steven's throat was dry and the complexion on his face was a bashful-red. His mind blanked and his throat somehow made a sound:

"Really?" He said with a high-pitch tone, not certain if it was indeed his own voice.

The masseuse ran both her dark hands across Steven's back- her crotch rubbed against his rear end in the most intimate way.

Steven lay in a mild state of a shock on the bed. My god, he thought, I can feel her pussy rubbing against me. Is she aware of it? Is it on purpose? 

"Yes. But it's okay. I'll make it better. Just relax" 

There's only so much I can relax with a stranger's cunt rubbing itself against me, Steven thought. This massage does feel amazing though. 

Room 8 of Tubman's Inn, bed & breakfast, was the host of a massage session. Nothing more than an innocent massage session. So innocent that if you blurred your eyes, or didn't put on your glasses- it would look like you are spying on a couple having sex on their bed.

Her hands kneaded his broad shoulders and back and Steven could feel each muscle in his body liberate with joyful pleasure. He could also feel his major hard-on. That cock pressed against the bed, with the gun loaded and ready to fire, was not making it any easy for him. How did this happen? 

Well, it happened when he decided to watch "just one more minute of porn", as he said earlier in his head, and time just flow by him.

His day was long and awful. A three hours plus car-ride will make any man a little tired, but add to it a bickering wife and the fact that you drove all this time just so she can get a separate room, that was gods' big joke for the day, he thought.

He wanted a shower- warm water to spray on his body and put away the terrible stench of sweat, car, roads and mad-wives.

But those two Scandinavian babes on the TV didn't help much.

It was hard to go take a shower while Heidi and Helga (names he made up in his head) were screwing each-other with a big purple strap-on and eating one another's young and seductive pussies.

Steven felt like he should at least wait for the climax scene, where, most likely, the girls will shake rattle and roll with orgasm, just as if he had waited for the punch-line at the end of a Saturday-Night-Live sketch.

But he misjudged the time and just as Heidi was sticking it inside Helga's ass, a knock was heard on his door. Steven shrieked and jumped in his place as his heart was pumping hard in his chest, just like his veins were pumping on his solid-red dick.

Who is it? It must be Helen, he thought.

When he went to door, he stretched his olive-colored shirt down as much as possible, so it covers the bulge in his pants.

But it wasn't Helen- it was the massage Steven ordered and forgot almost instantly about.

The girl giving him the massage was a young black woman. She wore a white tightly buttoned shirt with the words TUBMAN INN sewn over it. She had a matching colored skirt, that didn't even reach her knees. Her hair, golden-brown like maple syrup, was knotted into long and tight dreadlocks that ran all the way across her back to her ass. 

She was quite short, a head below Steven, and she obviously carried a large pair of breasts under her blouse, a fact that Steven was not indifferent to.

He welcomed her inside and they exchanged pleasantries. Her voice had a childish tone to it and it came out of her mouth so soft and hazy that it sounded like the talks you hear in your dreams.

The white colored uniform made her look like a nurse, Steven thought amusingly, and as if she was listening to his thoughts she asked him to strip down and lay on the bed with nothing on but his shorts.

Steven never gave much thought to the fact that the massage would take place on the bed, he assumed it would be anyway, but what did made him nervous was the fact did he had to strip to his shorts with his huge erection just waiting to pop up and say, Hello World.

Nervous and red with shame he decided to bite the bullet and undress, taking advantage of the fact that the masseuses, which he leaned her name was Desiree by this time, was setting up the room and creating an interesting ambiance. 

She dimmed the lights a little bit and lit scented candles that she brought with her inside a black tote bag. She also spread a large white towel on the bed, where Steven will lay later, and another soft towel, neatly folded to use as head cushion.

He watched her set up the room; her bum was creating a nice round shape as she folded her back to spread the towel on the bed, her big breasts swayed under her blouse, and Steven suspected she had nothing under.

He shook the thoughts from his head and realized that ogling Desiree was not helping with softening his erection.

At the end he decided to man-up and just drop down his jeans with a quick motion and immediately position himself on the bed.

He did so, and his eyes widened with panic when he saw the tent in his boxers, so he lunged on his belly hoping that Desiree did not notice it.

He wasn't sure but, as his body collapsed on the bed, he thought he saw glimmer of smile on her lips.

Steven thoughts, at those first few seconds, were: I need to cool off this erection, especially now that my dick is pushing against the mattress and my belly. If I get too excited I might go-off.

But what happened next took him by surprise, something that caught the breath in his lungs and made a dry lump in his throat.

Desiree jumped on the bed beside him; she oiled her hands with warm oils and applied it to his body. Then- she climbed on-top of him and sat, with her legs spread, over his buttocks and started to massage his back from there.

Steven was stunned by this. He remembered his friend, Leo, once told him that on a trip to Thailand, he went to a place in Bangkok for a full-body-massage, where the girl rubs up on you and you end up fucking her. He was quite sure that Leo's massage session started not-so different from his own.

Now he just sprawled on the bed, motionless, for the last who knows how many minutes and allowed her to rub her hands all over is back and shoulders, hoping his gun won't fire under him.

And it was tough. Before she entered the room, thanks to free-nude-TV, his horniness level reached mountain-high, a fact he did not take care off.

He was only a second away from masturbating before she knocked on the door. And now she mounted him- riding his backside, feeling her vagina under the fabric of her panties rub against his butt cheeks. The added weight on his throbbing dick, and the added heat that radiated from Desiree's body was not easy on his genitalia.

The massage itself felt wonderful and he tried to concentrate on that fact more than anything. The odor from the candles, something fantastic that smelled like a flower garden under dewy skies, filled his lungs.

Her hands were soft and gentle, they moved over his body with mesmerizing care. Her thumbs and fingers were so tender yet they pressed on every knot and muscle in his body until they vaporized. 

His back and neck began to feel like an abandoned minefield, where every few inches another tension-spot was kneaded to an explosion, one so great it sent shivers up his spine.

When she reached for his shoulders, her long dreads splashed on his back like a million ropes, tickling his body in a way that made him smile.

His shoulders were boulders and his neck was a wreck.

She punched him lightly with closed-fist hands over his upper back like a pastry-chef fisting his dough, and he had a childish urge to break a sound, just so he could hear it echo with inconsistence in the air.

He kept his eyes closed tight, because she was working too close to him and he didn't want to make eye contact, it would have made him nervous. At one point she leaned so close to his head, while working on his neck, that he could sense her breath, coming out warm like the first puff of summer wind. She was so close that, her soft lips were almost touching his, and he felt her eyes were fixed on his eyes the all time.

But, of course, he couldn't know that for sure.

His mind was a dark blank, and every now and then images would spur up in the emptiness. He saw the blonde with the heavy set of tits, sucking on her own nipples- the veins in her tits so clear they looked like a road map. When she disappeared-- the brunette came in, her body white as sheet, except for her cherry colored lips and that shine, she still had that juicy shine around her mouth.

Two thumbs made circles over the muscles in his biceps, turning them to a mere sponge.

Helga and Heidi, the two large breasted dykes from Scandinavia, were sixty-ninig each-other, their tongues looked like those of a dog feeding from his bowl.  

Desiree's knuckles buried themselves against his flesh- they moved slowly around his spine and shoulder-blades, making him vibrate with pleasure and even release a soft sounding moan.

Desiree. Her name was so unique and mysterious.

He saw her in his mind, in the black space where a parade of naked bodies came and go, but she (Desiree, what a name), she wasn't naked. He tried to undress her in his mind but her long bangs seemed to cover her entire body not giving access to his eyes.

He swallowed spit and felt his cock now throbbing with passion.

He tried as hard as possible to think of something else, to subdue the feeling burning inside him, burning at his crotch. Maybe a song...

He remembered an old Neil Diamond song, and involuntarily sang it in his head. 

(Desiree, Oh Desiree/ There I was found, by the sweet passion sound)

What cruel jokes his mind was playing on him. Or maybe it was her.

What was she trying to do to me? He thought. She was driving me mad- massages, sure they suppose to feel good, but this felt so more intimate and in a way wrong. I can feel her vagina rubbing at my backside, for Christ-sake. I can sense the folds of her pussy tenderly pinching my rear.

The time stood still in the room.

If he listened close enough, he could hear his wrist watch, thrown on the night stand, tick and tock with every passing second.

He would hear a TICK, and then his heart would pump fifty times, Desiree would work on one side of his body then switch to the next, he would inhale ten times and exhale ten times, the song "Desiree" would be sung in his head from start to finish, and then he would hear TOCK.

It was like the all world around him, was being normal, but only on the bed the reality was different- like a wet dream.

He felt strange as if he has given his body, not to a massage-expert, but to a powerful voodoo goddess. He felt overpowered by her.

He wanted to drift away with his mind and his thoughts, and let her do what she wants to do.

(And what she would do, is no more than give me a massage, because that is she her job, and that is what she is doing, regardless of how it makes me feel. And to be honest I'm as horny as I have ever been so I may not be thinking straight anyway) 

While Steven rationalized things in his head, Desiree got off him and sat on her knees besides him. Steven felt like he was about to scream: NO, DON'T GET OFF. But he only did it in his head.

"Okay, now turn over" she said. The echo of her words vibrated in the silence of the room for a couple of seconds before Steven could comprehend what she said.

"You need me to turn over? On my back?" he said with a dry tone, not sure if he, in fact, heard her right.

"Yes"

Yes. So simple-- yet so conflicting.



He was embarrassed to turn over- if he would, she would, undoubtedly, see the tent in his boxers. He tried to think of her as a nurse, like her clothes resembled, and as one she has probably seen everything in her work so there is no room for shyness. She was a stranger before she came into the room and she will remain one after she leaves. He will never see her again, and that is a really important thing. Sure, maybe tomorrow or next week she will laugh with her friends over coffee about the guy she massaged who had a monster hard-on while she worked on him, but if that's the case then so be it. 

The most important factor was that he didn't want her to stop. He needed her to continue.

He turned over, his face washed with red color, his hands pulling his boxers up a little bit.

When the turn was complete, Steven timidly looked at his crotch and his bulge was as big if not bigger, than he thought. It looked like, when Helen was already in bed when he came late from work, and all that he saw was a huge lump in the bed covered with blankets. Sometimes he would uncover the blanket, wake her up and make lover to her. He wondered if Desiree wanted to uncover his. His penis suddenly made a hopping motion under his shorts as his muscles contracted with excitement and Steven knew he should shake such thoughts from his head.

Desiree, did not seem to change expression at all, she just rubbed more oils on her hands and ran it across his chest and belly.

Steven's eyes were wide open and blazing, his head, resting on a folded towel, and he observed Desiree's moves and motions.

All of a sudden their eyes met, and time seemed to have frozen again.

Desiree's eyes were staring at Steven's in such an intense manner that he could see sparks flying from their edges. She still moved both her hands in circular motions all over his upper body, but her eyes were locked on his, and they were trying to read him, maybe succeeding. 

Steven thought of Medusa, of Greek Mythology, with her wild hair of serpents, similar to Desiree's feral dreadlocks, and how whoever looks at her turns to stone. He didn't turn to stone from watching Desiree, but his dick has become a solid rock underneath.



At the end it was Steven who closed his eyes, giving a huge exhale of stored breath that sat still on his lungs.

He decided to let the cards fall where they may.

When Desiree brushed her fingers over his nipples he could not believe how good it made him feel. The oils on her hands were making them erect and full of tenderness. She brushed her hands several of times over his chest and nipples and each time she did his nipples hardened and he could feel a slight sense of orgasmic shiver going through his body.

Her hands traveled south- over his navel and just a hairline over his boxers. His pecker pointing up was almost poking her hands, but she continued her massage right above his bladder, and he could feel his cock jumping in its place with enthusiasm and his cum building in his testicles like a wild-fire. 

Desiree began to sway her head almost like in a trance and her braids traveled everywhere on his body- they tickled his shoulders and his ribs, they splashed over his nipples and his chest, they bit his belly like thousands of golden-brown serpents, each bite so glorious he could laugh with pleasure.

When her hand reached under his drawers and slid down below his cock towards the pubic bone, Steven was sure he has suddenly fallen asleep and was in the midst of a naughty fantasy. But reality kicked in like a wave of hot shower, and he realized she was in fact oiling and massaging his crotch.

His body felt numb- even if he wanted to stop her, because the voice-of-reason in his head told him it was wrong, he could not let her stop.

All the blood rushed from his head to his loins, and his heart was like a rubber ball, bouncing off endlessly between two walls.



Desiree's right hand was stuffed under the waistline of his shorts, beneath the cock, rubbing and oiling his bushy pubic hair. Her left hand, made its way from his thigh, slyly sliding under the left leg of his shorts.

The hands under his boxers: met, stroked one another, rubbed against his crotch. It was like two kids playing under a camp they made from their blankets, where you couldn't see them but you could see a lot of grumbling under the fabrics.

And all this time, her hands never once, explicitly rubbed his cock. They moved around it, besides it, underneath it, but not once did they grab his boiling red cock and stroked it like he so wanted her to do.

She teased him endlessly, making him weak in the head just as much as in the knees. He tried to bite his lips inside his mouth, so he can somehow regain a feeling of consciousness and control, but it did nothing for him. He was as close as he has ever been in his life to climax without ever having his dick touched.

Desiree, after giving Steven a lengthy crotch massage, decided it was time to slip him out of his shorts.

When she did undress him, Steven did not argue, did not question it in his mind- all he did was raise his pelvis so his boxers could finally be freed from his body.

His dick was uncovered similar to the way you would uncover a new Ferrari as the mystery prize in a game-show: big, red and dazzling.

His cock was swollen with red and purple shades looking like a dynamite stick, where the spark of fire was trickling down the fuse line and almost touching the blasting cap. He was ready to explode and shoot endless wads of semen all over the air, drenching Desiree's gentle and caring face with thick white cum.

Desiree was still rubbing more oils and lubricants all over his crotch- the palms of her hands, fingers and thumbs moved everywhere like a snake. They moved over his belly, they pushed against his bladder giving him the immense feeling of urinating like a madman, they brushed over his thighs, and they coated his ass and his perineum with warm oils.

Steven could feel her fingers massaging his anus, coating it with creamy and warm lubricants. The feeling of a woman's finger rubbing his anus was so unique and unfamiliar, and it felt really good, so much that he couldn't hide from the fact it was exciting him. He could feel muscles around his anus loosening, and relaxing like all the other muscles in his body already felt.




Fifty Five Minutes Massage



Then he felt a sensation he never felt before; a sensation so strange and unknown that once again he doubted of he was still a part of his regular reality or on a completely different reality from his own:

Her left middle finger began to wedge its way up his asshole, tunneling inside his tight rectum. The feeling of million-and-one nerve-endings shimmering with tantalizing electricity was bursting inside of Steven's body.

His brain, like a men coming out of a coma, suddenly sparked into action and screamed in his head: THIS IS WRONG STEVEN. THIS IS WRONG.

He reached out his left hand and grabbed, lightly, at her wrist.

Desiree shrugged off his hand with the ease you shrug off lint from your blouse.

The way his hand was thrown away, so effortlessly, made him realize he didn't want her to stop- it felt just too damn good.

And once her finger hit the spot- he felt a new wave of orgasmic pleasure in his body, almost knocking him out cold.

Desiree's finger curled up inside of Steven, the head of the finger was moving gently around the narrow space: feeling, rubbing, sensing. She looked for that magic spot, the one that shaped like a small pea, but was powerful enough to make any man fold like a wet napkin.

When her finger made touch with Steven's prostate, it was like pushing in the final plug to the lights of a Christmas tree- everything just lit up, bright and shiny and full of life. 

Steven moaned instantly, like reflex, when she touched it the first time. His cock throbbed with pleasure, begging to shoot a long and lasting climax. His hart BABOOMED under his chest, and his nails clenched hard at the bed sheets.

"It's amazing..." the words escaped his mouth slow and accompanied with heavy breathing. 

"I can't hold on any longer...I need to finish this...please I..."

Steven sent his right hand to his dick- he could not hold on any longer. However, before he could touch it, Desiree shoved his hand away and tucked it under his back. 

"No...I need--" he muttered.

He sent his second hand towards his rod, but got rejected just as easily again. Once again she grabbed his hand, the left one this time, and tucked it under his back, making him look like a man lying cuffed.

Inside him, her finger curled with a slow "come here" motion, pressing the button and causing his body to shiver and contort.

Steven looked at Desiree and gave her a pleading gesture with his eyes.

He felt emasculated by her, but it was okay. Inside this room, miles from his home and friends, under dark and stormy skies, surrounded with an aroma so special that you thought you were somewhere even further away on the globe- like a deserted island on the Pacific. The complete sense of isolation, took over, his wife Helen was a blurry silhouette in his head. In here, a young masseuse by the name of Desiree could do whatever she wanted to me, he thought. And I know it will feel glorious.

But the endless teasing would not stop. Desiree began to unbutton her shirt with her free hand. A button after a button, she moved slowly and with the same sensuous rhythm her finger rubbed his prostate.

Steven watched as each button unfasten, her dark skin was now uncovering before his eyes, a large pair of breasts was starting to peek at him- no bra, like he suspected.

Her boobs splashed out eventually; they were very large and inviting, her nipples were chocolate brown pointing at Steven, surrounded by dark circles.

Steven thought it was the most attractive set of tits he has ever seen, no doubt in his mind about that. He wanted so much to suck on them and burry is head between them, forever. He swallowed a ball of spit as he gazed at her; his eyes never blinked.

Desiree took her right boob with her free hand and drew it close to her chin. Her tongue slunk out of her mouth, pink like strawberry ice-cream. She began to swirl the tongue in seductive circles around the nipple, which was puffing up by the second, and leaving a trail of hot saliva over her dark areolas.

Steven was out of breath; his excitement level was so high he felt like he might go mad with bliss. The finger inside his ass was rubbing lightly on the button, that walnut shaped tissue of orgasmic pleasure, his cock seemed to even go larger in size every time she pressed it. His ass was feeling really loose, lubricated with one of her special gels and oils she brought, and he found himself thrusting his pelvis forward to accept even more of her finger. He had a feeling of wanting more and more- he was the ultimate image of "The Sin of Lust", and he began to accept it.

Desiree's mouth closed around her nipple and she began to suckle on her own tit. Her lips looked luscious and tender, and Steven gave her an envious stare; he wanted her lips and tongue to tend his throbbing cock in the same manner, he wanted it so much.

Her boob was fat and heavy in her hand, looked like an over inflated water balloon, and the way part of it was lost in Desiree's mouth made Stevens' teeth grind. She sucked on her tit long and hard, her left middle finger still massaging the prostate with precision.

After a while, Desiree stopped sucking on her nipple, which by the looks of it grew even fatter in her mouth, looking like thick rubber eraser covered with saliva.

Her eyes glanced at Steven's cock- red, hard and begging for attention. The expression on her face almost never changed- she still had that calmness and inner peace, a complete opposite of Steven who was a sweating and shivering mess, a man who's had his entire brain cells turned off, except for the one cell- the cell that carries all the deviant thoughts and hidden fantasies.

She lowered her head towards his crotch.

Steven's nerves contracted with anticipated pleasure, making the cock pop in its place.

She was now only half an inch from his rod, her face hovered over the shaft of the penis, like a spaceship, looking for a spot to land. The warmth radiated out of her face like a furnace; he could have sensed her nose, her lips, her cheeks, all so close, but she still wouldn't touch. It felt like millions of worms crawled all over his shaft, tickling it all over to the point of torture.

She blew hot air from her lips over his cock; the air was puffed out so warm and so heavy it was feeling like flames over his dick.

His pre-cum juiced out at almost instantly, coming out no more than a tiny bubble of clear juice, but it was not the end. Steven felt like more was coming. He felt it building endlessly inside him since the prostatic treatment began- he was going to blow a huge load of semen. All he could hope for his that she would give him a slight touch, and he would be driven off the edge. 

"I can't take it any longer...I need to cum...Please, please, ple--"

His pleading stopped and turned into a moan and quiver when she began to flick his prostate faster than before, reaching new heights of pleasure.

"Release it, Steven. Relax--and release" her voice spoke to him like an echo from the other side of the tunnel.

Her finger moved faster in his anus with the motion of "come here" (cum here?).

She wanted him to relax. To release. 

Release what?

"Release it Steven. Don't hold back."

A million and one things jumbled in Steven's head, but as he felt her soft and slippery tongue make contact with his cock, all the images shattered to bits and pieces, and he could only think of one thing: RELAES IT STEVEN.

His nerves contracted hard, his pelvis jumped high in the air, and with the mere touch of her tongue--such a soft touch it may have been a dream--his cock squished out two clear streams of, not urine or cum, but prostate fluids. He cried hard with ecstasy, his body shook like he was being poked by a thousand pins.

The juices, milked out of his penis, fell warm and diluted over his chest and belly.

He looked at her with wide glossy eyes, bewilderment washed his face.

"It's not over, Steven. You still need to cum don't you?"

Her voice sounded like a hallucination, but she was right, Steven did not feel satisfied at all. She may have milked his juices, but his cum was still waiting to explode, his orgasm still trembled in his loins and his cock still stiff and red waiting to detonate.

Desiree grabbed the base of Steven's cock (finally a touch! He thought) and swallowed the head of his cock like a lollipop.

Steven panted, her lips felt so good and soft and her tongue was twirling around the thick bulbous head of his cock, like no woman has ever done to him. In a quick and sudden motion she nosedived to his belly and accepted the entire length of his shaft down her throat.

Steven was amazed; his cock has always been bigger than the mediocre guy as far as he could honestly say, and seeing it disappear in her mouth like that was astounding. 

Not giving him too much time to gawk and pant- she almost instantly threw her head up and released his dick from her mouth's clutches. When she disbanded from his cock a loud squishy sound was heard like a big wet kiss, and tiny drips of drool sprinkled from her mouth.

Steven jerked his pelvis like crazy; he was so close to end it but she took it away from him so quickly.

Desiree began to move the finger in his ass in an IN and OUT action.

She's fucking my ass, Steven thought. It feels good...

Her mouth once again took his entire meat down her throat- the tongue brushed all over the foreskin and neck of his dick, and then it was back up again making that loud squishy sound and even more saliva dribble.

Steven moaned and he was almost certain that he would suffer from a massive a heart attack any moment now, it was more than ten men could handle.

But Desiree went on- her finger IN and OUT, her mouth went UP and DOWN- it was all rhythmic and in-synched. Like she was playing on giant orchestra assembled of: his cock, his prostate, his heart, his mind...

Eventually she took his dick in her mouth and wouldn't let go.

Steven could not decipher Desiree's motives form the moment she went inside the room; she was a complete mystery to him. But he did feel at that moment, that it was not all about him, something twinkled in her eyes, a hunger, that wanted to enjoy his meat in her mouth, almost animalistic in a way.

He looked down as that familiar feeling of climax roared inside him, just waiting for the last contraction in his body to give up, and he could see Desiree's head go up and down on his shaft with her long knotted dreads dangling everywhere.

And then his heart turned to fire and he was set-off.

He moved his hands from under his back, freeing from their imaginary cuffs, and slammed them down on top of Desiree's head. His pelvis jumped up, like he sat on boiling metal chair, and his body shivered all over. It started as a sole spark but quickly generated to a massive boom and it blasted outside his body at the speed of light.

His cum spurted out of his cock with what felt like eternity to him.

The first couple squeezes of cum were gushed down Desiree's throat and down her belly, she had no chance to avoid it. When Steven's hands over her head felt numb and she jerked her head up, a never-ending stream of milky white semen sprayed out of his cock and splashed everywhere in the room. His dick was a fountain of cum, the streams were long and thick, some of it landed on his shoulders, some landed on her face, some on his. 

The smell of sex and semen filled the room instantly- a smell of a man satisfied, a man relaxed.

He looked at Desiree, his own eyelids half-closed, like a drunk , and her face a bit shiny at the mouth but mostly still intact, and her expression still solemn as before. He felt wrong for forcing her to take his cum (or did he force her? Everything was a blur...like a dream...)

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to--"

"It's all well, Steven," She said giving him genuine and nice smile, cum now glowed clearly from her lips and chin, "and you still want more, Steven, don't you? There is still more relaxing for you to do"

Steven felt as if his orgasm rewound back into a glowing entity inside his belly. His cock was still hard and red, his prostate still raw and beating, he had more cum to give.

Her voice, her touch, her presence; it all made his orgasm build inside of him again. 

Desiree drew her finger from his ass and wiped it on a wet towel, she tossed her blouse out the bed to the floor- her boobs looked bigger and juicer now, each tit gravitated to its respective side creating an inverted V shape between them.

She grabbed her skirt and panties with her hands, and slid both of them down to her ankles in one swoop motion.

All the time Steven ogled her, with a watery mouth, and worked his hand over his saliva and cum drenched dick with pumping actions.

Desiree cuddled next to his body like a kitten; her body was warm and nice, heat radiated from her to him and vice versa- both naked bodies, both hot and aroused. 



She stuck out her tongue and began to scoop cum-juice from his belly to his chest and to his neck, until a yellowish-white chunk of semen was scooped on her tongue and then downed into her belly.

She then climbed on top of Steven, squirming her nude body on top of his, rubbing against the mixture of massage oils and semen that draped his body. Steven could feel the pressure of her weight; over his belly, over his chest, over his penis. It was the good kind of pressure.

Desiree took one of her magnified boobs and held to his mouth, and Steven accepted it without hesitation. He sucked on her nipple like a hungry child, feeling it stiffening in his mouth. He jumped from one boob to the next- licking around the nipples, nibbling on them, leaving sticky saliva wherever he goes.

He never had such a big tit in his mouth. Sure, Helen has a nice and round pair, he thought, men always ogle her when they walk on the street together. But this was something else- boobs so naturally big, they wiggle in your hands and mouth like pudding.

"Do you want to fuck me, Steven?" Her face was only inches from his face. Her breath brushed his nose and lips, feeling warm and smelling like semen. She was rubbing crotches with him. His cock was sandwiched between both bellies, and the feeling of arousal grew inside him again, harder. His eyes closed from heaviness, his body began to quiver again.

"Yes. Yes, I want to" he whispered. 

She drew her face close to his cheeks, so close he could feel cum sticking to it, and she whispered softly in his ears:

"Will you fuck my pussy, Steven?" Her voice drifted slowly to his ear, and he could hear a silent pause between each word she said. 

"Yesss"

"My pussy is special, Steven. It may be too hard for you to handle"

"Please...I want it"

"Once you're inside me, you will know. Are you not afraid?"

"No. I need it"

"Your heart is throbbing madly. Do you dare to punish your heart with more ecstasy? Will you risk it, just to be inside me?"

"I will"

"Will you relax, once inside my pussy, Steven? Will your body relax?"

"It will"

"A massage is all about Relaxation. Relaxation of the senses. Relaxation of the mind. Relaxation of the body"

Steven swallowed balls of spit- his Adam's apple bobbed up and down like a monkey on a stick. Her words drove him crazy like a mad spell.

He wanted her pussy, more than he wanted air, more than he wanted blood to run through his veins. He needed it.

Desiree rolled of his body and after giving him one more passionate glance-which he missed under his paralytic state- and she began to orally stimulate his cock again.

After a minute of sucking, Steven's cock was strawberry red, and ready to go. She bent her knees and positioned herself to sit on his cock. She brushed the tip of his cock over her dark labia and he could feel the warmth emitting from her tight opening. The cock wedged in, between the lips, and Steven felt like he pushed his dick inside a large and molted candy. When his dick disappeared inside her cunt, Desiree began to wiggle her pelvis, making his cock wiggle with her.

For the first time since the session began- Desiree moaned.

Steven snapped his eyes open- a sexy ebony figure was mounted on his body, a fantasy figure with flesh and bone.

My pussy is special, she said.

It was.

Inside her hot pocket was like nothing he has ever experienced. The pussy was so tight, it was like an anaconda wrapped firmly around his pecker, chocking it until it became numb with arousal. The heat inside, was like a million candles melting over a frozen body.

She worked the muscles in her thighs and began to jump on his dick, and Steven thrust his pelvis up and down in return. Desiree moaned again, and Steven moaned with her. He grabbed her ass and pounded on her, hard and fast, each time with more force than before. Her tits swayed from side to side, going up in the air and then slapping back on her skin, with a loud smack sound.

Both bodies were exchanging sweat and juices, and when you cannot tell which fluids are your own, your bodies become one. They were one.

Steven felt his orgasm building up again, and he just a couple of humps away from painting her pink pussy with white colors.

When he came inside her it was accompanied by a large moan.

He could not believe he could reach the force of ejaculation, as big as before, and it wasn't, but it was still a massive squirt. 

Cum drooled from Desiree's stuffed pussy, down her thighs and dripped on his belly. Desiree, maybe lost just a touch of her mystic in Steven's eyes, but she was still very much composed, very much in control.

"Are you satisfied, Steven? Are you relaxed?" even her voice sounded less dream-like, and more normal.

"I am, I am. Thankyou..."

"But we are not done, are we Steven? You still have more to give?"

More? He wanted more, even his sexual urge was still raging inside, but he wasn't sure his body could handle more. He squirted out every remaining drop of juice he had in-stored. His body felt drained.

"Steven," She continued, "how about my ass. Don't you want feel it inside my ass?"

"I do..."

"You will"

----------

"HO YES MARVIN! FUCK ME! FUCK ME HAR-DER!"

Helen Cruise, who usually spends her days by running around with stylish outfits, working for an esteemed business-woman in her hometown of New-York, was a far cry from her previous self.

Now, she was being vaginally penetrated by a large black man, a complete stranger to her, and she could not get enough of him. 

When Marvin showed her his cock, she almost fainted from disbelief. It was a long and dark piece of meat, dangling down to his knee like a snake from a tree.

She tasted it, and tried to force it down her throat, maybe even swallow it all. But when she realized, she could only consume less than half of his giant member, it made her even more lustful than before.

She craved for his cock inside her pussy, she wanted to feel this long and thick shaft pummel inside her, with forceful pleasure.

Now, lying on the massage table, her desires came into fruition.

She and Marvin were having incredible sex, the type of sex you have knowing you might be risking your ability to walk for days later.

She was overwhelmed by the size of his cock in her pussy. Her entire cervix expanded inside, as he tunneled his large dick inside her in fast IN and OUT motions. Just like she fantasized.

Every time his cock went in- she could feel it grind the buried spots-of-pleasure in her vagina, with such force that no cock, she ever had or will have, could ever do. When his cock went out- its large and curvy head would brush her swollen clit, sending shivers down to her knees.

It was orgasmic pleasure all around, and Helen found herself driven to points of mental ecstasy as much as physical.

"Ho, yes!! Drill me more Marv....ho yes FUCK ME!!"