0 comments/ 53474 views/ 4 favorites His Hands By: spiritlover Janet had been looking forward to this for weeks. She had won a door prize at the Christmas office party weeks ago and was surprised and excited to find that the prize was a free one-hour massage at one of the local health clubs. She called and made the appointment and was asked, "Do you prefer a male or female masseuse." Janet thought for a moment and instinctively said, "male." "Wow," she thought, "Where did that come from?" After the appointment was made she began to have some reservations. And she also felt a strange new excitement. Then she remembered that the health Club was a reputable establishment and she really did not have anything to worry about. Several days later she arrived at the health club at the appointed time and was ushered to a private room. She was left alone after being advised to undress and place a large warm towel around her body. She wondered, "should I leave my underclothes on or take them off." Her instincts led her to remove her bra and panties and place then neatly on top of a small table which also contained various oils, a small heating plate and several large candles. It was the perfect temperature in the room. She felt neither hot nor cold. She sat back in a soft chair and waited for the masseuse. As she sat there she looked around and noticed the large mirrors on each wall, and on the ceiling above the massage table. "Fun," she thought, " I will be able to watch what is going on." This was her first professional massage and she was not sure what to expect. She did know how much she liked to be touched and receive back rubs and foot rubs. It invariably aroused her and as she had these thoughts there was a soft knock on the door. A stocky Hispanic man entered. He smiled at her and introduced himself as Emilio. He was drop dead handsome and built like a body builder, and about 10 years younger than she. He prepared a clean sheet on the massage table and moved a small stool next to it so she could climb onto it comfortably. Following his instructions, Janet moved up on the table and layed on her stomach. The towel she was wearing opened in the back and as she rested there Emilio opened the large towel and momentarily left her naked. He quickly placed a smaller warm towel over her buttock and thighs. He told her to relax, and as she lie there with her eyes closed he moved around the room and started a CD that played soft relaxing instrumental new age music. The candles were lit and the scent of Gardenia's filled the small candle lit room. Just the ambience alone was enough to relax her she thought. She felt Emilio move to her left side and heard him open a bottle and rub his hands together. The massage began. Belying his massive muscles his hands felt soft and gentle as he lightly began to spread the light warm oil over her neck and shoulders. As his hands moved in slow large circles she felt the warmth of the blood flowing under his hands. Ever so lightly he moved from the base of her neck and skull to the edge of the towel near the small of her back. His touch was heavenly. Emilio gradually increased the pressure of his hands on her skin and found small knots of tension which he persistently massaged until they relaxed. There was complete silence between them as he worked. Janet moved into a relaxed state and her mind began to visualize Emilio and his hands moving sensually over her body. As he moved around the table to her other side she opened her eyes as he moved past her head. She was eye to eye with his crotch. Inside his white sweat pants she saw the bulge of his penis. He was slightly aroused and the entire length could be seen pointed downward toward his leg. Janet quickly closed her eyes hoping he would not notice her looking. But the image became even more vivid in her memory. She realized that she had become somewhat aroused by his hands and now this vision of his slightly aroused penis fueled her imagination. She began to feel the touching of his hands as a sexual encounter. Emilio moved down the table next to her hips. He pulled the small towel covering her buttocks downwards, folding it neatly as he uncovered her, until it was lying over the upper part of her thighs. "Was this normal," she thought to herself. Somehow she had not expected being so exposed to his eyes and hands. At the same time it excited her as he began to knead her buttocks between his hands. The oil ran down into the crevice between her cheeks and he deftly slipped a finger to catch it, gently touching her anus. She flinched and he momentarily stopped. Then she relaxed and found herself opening her legs slightly. The familiar warmth was beginning between her legs, as she knew she was beginning to become moist. "That was a test" she mused, "to see what my reaction would be." "He is trying to arouse me" she fantasized. She had no desire to stop the magic of his hands and fingers. "Two can play this game," she thought, as she reached for the towel and dropped it to the floor. She could almost see the smile on his face as he moved his hands with more vigor over her buttocks. Emilio retrieved the bottle of warm oil from the water bath and using the small nozzle ran a rivulet of oil down the back of her thigh and calf. Moving his hands quickly he spread the oil over her legs and ankles. Moving upwards he placed one hand on each side of her thigh and began kneading the soft flesh. She felt the back to his hand lightly touch her labia with the faintest electric touch. He then moved down her thigh to her knee and then back up her leg to her thighs again. Again he massaged her thighs deeply and as he worked his fingers in her flesh, the back of his hand again brushed against her labia. "Please" she thought, "touch me there." As her excitement increased she opened her legs slightly by reflex. She knew that he was looking at her pubic area, now open to him, and this excited her. She wondered if he was getting as excited as she. Just as she was prepared for him to become more adventurous he moved his hands down her leg to her calf and began rolling the large muscle between his two powerful hands. Angela was confused between her feelings of arousal and joy of feeling his hands caress her. She felt him squirt some oil on her feet and bend her leg upwards. Her toes touched his stomach as he used his thumbs to press gently and deeply into her arch and ball of her foot. Angela resisted the urge to giggle as she experienced the tickling sensation mixed with the pleasure of his firm touch. Then he massaged each toe, one by one, rubbing the space between them and pulling it firmly. His touch was light and gentle as he moved between her toes, then to her heel and top of her foot. He lingered on her foot for more than 5 minutes before moving to the other foot and repeating the sensuous ritual. Angela was in heaven. Every touch became an escalation of her ecstasy. She moved beyond simple sexual arousal to a deep contentment. She felt her body surrendering to his touch as the experience moved from cognitive impressions to a more basic instinctual release. She stopped thinking of where his hands were touching her and entered a thoughtless place of touch and reaction, pure pleasure uninhibited by her expectations. She was barely aware of the warm oil flowing down her other leg. This time he moved from her ankles to her upper thighs. She was now in rhythm to the pace of his hands and lost herself in the immediacy, the moment rather than anticipation. As he moved to her upper thighs he again touched her now open labia with the back of his hand. This time he lingered with his kneading of her thighs and his knuckle pressed between her folds and brushed lightly at the entrance to her vagina. Angela let out a moan of pleasure as he lingered for a few moments before again moving down her leg to her calf and back. Oh how she wanted him to touch her. She was startled when she heard his soft voice. "Time to turn over" he said as he handed her a warm towel and turned his back. The magic reverie was broken as Angela rolled over and pulled the warm towel over her. She became aware of her surroundings. She had spent the time of massage so far looking downward and mostly with her eyes closed. Now she could see their reflections in the mirrors all around her. And the candlelight flickering in the darkness cast a glow on their flesh. Emilio was sweating and his face glistened as he moved to the head of the massage table and began to massage her face. She closed her eyes as he gently placed the fragrant oil on his hands and with two fingers on each hand made small gentle circles over her forehead. He moved to her cheeks, massaged her nose and her lips, and her chin. Back to her temples and down the side of her face and neck. Leaning over her he slipped his oily hands under her towel and over her breasts. Angela looked upward and their eyes met. He asked permission with his gaze and Angela knew they had passed some imaginary boundary. She smiled at him and he bent his head and kissed her gently. She was immobilized by the power of the moment between them. Angela reached upwards and placed her hands on the towel over his hands. She massaged his hands and pressed them to her breasts as her hardened nipples pushed against his palms. She watched as Emilio moved around the table and stood beside her. He removed the towel covering her and dropped it to the floor behind him. He held the bottle of warm oil above her breast and a single drop splashed on her nipple and ran down her side. She flinched with the sensation. Angela watched her reflection in the overhead mirror. It was like a movie playing as she watched the reflection and felt the drops touch her most sensitive nipples. Emilio smiled and poured a small trail of oil down her stomach. He then began massaging her breasts, one in each hand as he looked into her eyes. Their eyes locked as his hands made soft circles over her nipples. She glanced upwards again to watch as his hands moved down to her ribs and chest and stomach, spreading the oil until she was glistening in the candlelight. She was feeling she was the most beautiful and sexual woman in the world, as she watched his hands moved over her breasts, chest, and stomach. Angela looked at his crotch. His cock was fully aroused and sticking straight up in his sweat pants. It looked like the top was nearly free of it constraints. Without hesitating she reached and gently grasped his cock through his pants. Emilio let out a small moan as she moved her hand up and down the huge shaft. She tugged his sweats down slightly and the head of his penis emerged. Emilio smiled at her and placed some oil on the head and she placed her palm over the top, gently squeezing and releasing the pressure as she closed her eyes and melted into the table. Emilio stopped massaging her for a moment as he pulled his sweats off and stood before her completely nude, just as she. She looked at his beautiful body, muscular and yet gently soft, sculptured but not grotesque. Freed of its boundaries, his cock stood out in front of him and she marveled at how beautiful it was, matching his stature perfectly. She spread the oil over it as she began to stroke him. Squeezing her hand around the shaft as she felt his hand move over her pubic hair. He moved his hand downward until his hand covered her entire moist area. Janet spread her legs as his middle finger probed the folds of her labia. Gently he inserted his finger, sliding in effortlessly in her warm channel. Janet began stroking him in rhythm to his finger entering and withdrawing. She looked at Emilio's face, eyes closed and biting his lip, sweat dripping from his nose as he slipped into the erotic passion. He should not be doing this, he knew it was dangerous, and this same danger heightened his excitement. How many times had he wanted to do this? How many times had he masturbated to this fantasy? Janet moved her hips against his hand. After a few minutes he placed some oil on his hand and trapped her engorged clitoris between two fingers He moved his fingers in a rolling motion against the shaft. She had never felt anything this exciting. She grasped his cock more firmly and quickened her stroke. Emilio responded by placing his fingers over her clitoris, moved his fingers in circles, deftly applying the perfect pressure. She felt her excitement mounting and reached for her orgasm. All of this foreplay had raised her passion to a fever pitch. She felt his cock swell in her hand and knew he was nearing the edge also. As she neared the edge she moaned in loud abandon, her body tensed, holding on one more moment at the exquisite peak. Emilio sensed her at the edge and slowed the pace of his magic fingers, holding her there until he felt his own passion reaching the boiling point. They erupted together in ecstasy. Janet felt his hot cum erupt across her body as wave after wave of orgasmic pleasure racked her body. They froze in time for a few minutes. Emilio gently massaging the outside of her pubic area as Janet held his softening cock in her hand, grasping it firmly until is slipped from her grip. Together they tenderly climbed down the mountain together. Not a word was spoken. They locked eyes and smiled at each other. The timer went off and startled both of them. Emilio took a warm towel and wiped the cum from her body and table. Janet sat up and they kissed tenderly. Absent the sexual tension between them they suddenly felt awkward. Thank you was too little, excuses too obscene. They parted in silence. Emilio wondering what had happened to him, Janet knowing that for many long nights she would visit him again in her fantasies, remembering his hands. His Hands When my client called and asked me to come to an all day meeting, the only thing I could say was "Yes sir. What time does it start and what do I need to bring to be prepared?" The meeting, which was 2 days later, was truly an all day event. It started at 8AM at his office and proceeded to another location finishing at 4:30 PM. There were over a dozen people in a long conference room talking about the various aspects concerning the project. Sometimes the discussion was one group conversation; sometimes we broke up into two or three subgroups. Everyone was dressed in ties and suits or dresses. We covered several important topics, resolved several "open issues" and avoided major personality conflicts. For the most part, things went off really well. The client, the project and the meeting were successful. My part and involvement in the meeting, however, lasted less than five minutes. So, as far as my productivity was concerned, my day went from critical input and decisions to hopeful learning to a complete waste of time. I guess the only good from a situation like that is my mind has time to wander. With over 6 hours of idle thinking, the human mind can think of several different things. First, I'll start to think about all the work related things that I could be doing. This will be followed by what I need to get done as soon as I get back to the office: answer email, return calls, etc. Then there will be a list of things I need to personally do: wash laundry, clean house, etc. But like most people, my mind will eventually wander to sex and fantasy. Being one of 2 women in the meeting, there were several "potential" candidates around the room to select from as my fantasy object. On this particular day, my mind focused on my client. In my fantasy, he reminds me of Robert Mitchum. He's around 45 – 50 years old, wears glasses, short wavy hair, somewhat tall and a bit thick, but not fat. I like to think of him as a rugged nerd. He has a desk job, but in the evenings and weekends, he works on his ranch, which is outside of town. He does a lot of work with cattle and sheep and considers this to be his true passion. Because of these two completely different types of work, I always let my focus wander to his hands. They are thick and the palms and fingers are calloused from years of outdoor work. The nails, though, are short, clean, and have a slight manicured look to them. In business settings personal presentation is not only important; it's critical. I'll watch him use his hands to describe finer details or point out something on the layouts that may have been missed. While watching him use his hands, I will always wonder what those hands must feel like. Against my own soft, feminine hands are they hard and rough? Do the pads of his palms feel thick and strong, like the hands of a man who has worked for years outside? How would those hands feel against my naked flesh? As I continue to stare at the way his hands move to illustrate his point, my fantasy will start to kick into full gear. I'll start to imagine him asking me to stay after the meeting. He'll ask me to stay late and help him develop a strategy for a new development plan, something that would be just the two of us, working together. After everyone has made promises for follow up calls and emails, then general talk and chat follows. Afterwards, everyone else leaves. He comes over to where I am sitting. My head is down, leaning over a pad of paper expecting him to give me some general directions that would be best written down for later use. As I am ready to write, he leans over me. He's so close to me that I can feel his breath on me. His cologne smells musky and mingled with his odor. It intoxicates me and my eyes are half closed as his lips gently run across the line where my shoulder meets my neck. He brings his hands over my writing hand to take my pen away. His lips brush against my ear as he tells me we'll be working on something a little more 'hands on' than that. His hand, which has been resting on my own hand, will come up my forearm and reach across to my other shoulder to turn me around. I'll swivel around, and he'll then take both of my hands and place them on either armrest, he'll lean into me and give me a slightly rough open mouth kiss. He'll come to a full standing position and move my hands to either side of his waist. My eyes will be squarely level with his groin area. My hands, now, move with a mind of their own. I'll bring them to his belt and unbuckle it. I'll unbutton the top button on his trousers and pull his pressed laundered shirt out. My hands will run under it up his stomach and chest. I'll feel the hair on his chest and run my fingers through it. Feeling the course hair, I'll find his nipples and squeeze, pinching them. I'll roam all over his chest and belly, trying to feel every inch of him at once. He'll then take my hands out from under his shirt and gently raise my hands and myself so that I am standing and leaning against the conference room table. He'll place my hands on either side of me, with a look, an understanding, where they remain there while he moves his own hands by unbuttoning and opening my blouse and front hooked bra. He runs those hands up my torso, to my breasts, and I am able to feel every thick joint of his fingers. In my mind, I can feel my nipples harden to the point of being almost painful as the little jagged seams along his palms catch against my own dark brown crinkled skin. His fingers are thick and incredibly strong, but they are oh so delicate when squeezing my nipples, pulling them away from my body and then letting them bounce back into place. I arch my head back and let out a deep loud moan. His finger comes back over my lips, "Shh", he says, "We don't want anyone to hear us do we?" I take this finger into my mouth and suck on it. My lips run up and down, licking it on all sides. I want him to know what more we could be doing. Thinking the same thing, it is now his turn to moan in response. He takes his hands and cups my face. The thick pads of his fingers soothingly message my temples as his palms cup my cheeks. I feel myself begin to melt into his touch. He moves his hands to my shoulders as he guides me lower. As I slide off the table and my knees sink to the carpeted floor, I bring my own hands up and unzip his fly and lower his trousers down to the ground. He's not wearing any underwear and I can see that he's semi erect. I bring my fingers up along the outer edges of his legs, feeling as much of his legs as possible. I let my hands guide themselves to his groin. I gently cup his balls with one hand and slowly, but firmly stroke his cock with the other. I open my mouth and lick the very tip of his now moist tip. I've been wondering how he would taste this whole time. He is now fully hard. As I lick him, I tilt my head up to let my brown eyes gaze into his green ones. His eyes dreamily stare at me as he brings his hands back to my face. Using this opportunity he mentions again how much he likes working with me; having me work under him. He is my client and I am here to serve. I moan and let the vibrations in my throat tickle his prick. I let him control the tempo; let him control the motions, when I feel him pull himself out of me. He guides me back to the table and has me sit on it. He then pushes my shoulders down, so that I'm laying across it with my legs hanging over the edge. His hands start at the knees and raise my skirt up. He cups my mound and quickly squeezes, feeling the dampness through my pantyhose. I start to groan and want to come up to kiss him when he firmly holds me back down again. He continues to let his hands wander up my body and grabs onto my panty hose and pulls them down. His mouth is following in immediate pursuit as I can feel the rough stubble of his 5 o'clock shadow and the softness of his tongue wander from my belly button towards my sexual release. While his mouth is work its way down to my clit, I feel his palms on the inside of my knees pushing them up and apart; giving him access to all of me. Letting him be able to lick me from clit to asshole. He then moves his hands back up my thighs. As he uses one hand to spread apart my nether lips to have complete access to my pussy, he uses 2 digits from his other hand and inserts them, fully, into my wet, hot pussy. Between the softness of his tongue and the firmness of his fingers, it becomes more than I can handle. I want to scream out my release but knowing where we are and the risk that is involved, I keep my mouth closed and my voice quiet. Keeping my vocals in makes the intensity of my release even more so and I grip his fingers with my internal muscles. I want to draw them in as far as they will go, never wanting to release them. I am gripping so hard that it becomes almost painful as he pulls them out again. He laughs softly to himself as he rises from sitting on his haunches. He positions himself between my legs, grabbing on to the outside of my thighs with his strong hands, always in control. He guides his cock into my pussy setting a nice rhythm that is neither to quick nor to sedate. He grinds himself into me and I can feel his balls hitting my asshole with every thrust. Knowing that his hands are busy holding on to my legs, controlling the motion, I let my own hands wander. One hand goes to my nipples and begins to alternate pinching them. This hand squeezes each nipple forcing them to harden and pulls them out away from me. The other hand roams to that place where our bodies meet. I alternate between rubbing my clit and stroking his cock on the out swing. His head has been thrown back, he's panting and he was lost in the moment. When my hand comes into contact with his prick, it startles him a bit. He grabs my hand, shakes his head and pulls out of me completely. This takes me back and I am worried that I may have offended him, but he smiles at me; and motions for me to roll over on my stomach. Here is where I remember that old saying, "The customer is always right." I know what he wants and so I roll over and position my ass for the best access to it. This isn't my first time at ass fucking and I realize that he's been using my pussy as lubricant for this moment of penetration. I am worried because knowing that he's strong, he may hurt me. I shouldn't worry. He slowly works the tip into my ass and then pulls out again. He does this a few times until I am use to the feeling and he's able to get more in my ass without it hurting. He grabs onto my hips and begins to pound away into my ass. I love this feeling and press my ass checks together. He then says the thing that other men have said to me, "God, your ass is so much tighter than your pussy. It's incredible!" My eyes are half closed, glazed over. I am lost in the moment. Some men don't know how to fuck an ass. They just pound away like it was the same thing as pussy, but let me tell you, it is not. Ass fucking requires smoother strokes, more control. This is important especially if you want the receiver to appreciate it. I can tell by the way he's going at me, he knows what he's doing. He's in control of himself, me and the situation in general. He's grabbing on to my hips pretty tightly squeezing a bit roughly. I know he'll leave finger size bruises. Bruises that I'll have to explain to someone else later. His grip is getting tighter, his breathing heavier and I know what's coming. After a few long strokes, I feel it, his wonderful release in me. He's still stroking in me now, but slower. He's using his cum now as lubricant for those last glorious strokes in me before he pulls out. Somebody starts coughing and I come into clear reality of what is going on around me. At this point in time, I am sitting with my legs crossed at the ankles and my hands are in my lap. My head is slightly bowed in a subservient position. My lips are parted because my breathing has become slightly labored and my mouth is watering. I lick my lips often. There is a flush across my chest that is rising from my breasts and is almost over coming my neck and face. Under the table I am desperately squeezing my thighs together trying to reach some sort of completion but not be noticed at the same time by the gentlemen on either side of me. That's when I feel it. I don't feel the beginning of a final release, but rather eyes, which are upon me, watching and noticing what I am doing. Watching what I am REALLY doing. Hesitantly and with a bit of fear, I look up to see who's observing me. Somebody else is talking and my client is staring at me. His head is slightly cocked in my direction; eyes twinkle over the rims of his glasses as very slowly, a grin starts to spread over his face. He's been studying me for a while and judging by his look has accurately determined my predicament. It seems to me that right here, right now we are frozen together, alone, in time. Like a deer crossing the highway gazing dreamily at the headlights of my oncoming death, I cannot look away from his stare. I am transfixed into his mischievous eyes. He's holding my gaze from across the room and yet, he's looking me over. He's taking in my every physical tale-tale detail. Noticing the reactions within me. Could he possibly know that he's the reason from my state of arousal? Does anybody else see this? How will I react around him the next time? And then ever so subtly, he winks and motions with his eyebrows, face, and mouth. He acknowledges my actions; the public desire that I'm displaying. Then he turns to address the question that someone else is asking, all the while stroking his fingers in circles along the table's edge. He then turns to everyone else and thanks them for coming and asks me to stay afterwards to discuss some further options he has for a special project. His sly grin appears again as he winks at me one more time.