2 comments/ 31107 views/ 11 favorites Bad Habits By: Ask For More This story is dedicated to C, who probably never expected to become a muse. * Surprised? Just a little. I could barely believe what stood before me. Clad a simple black dress, two straps which started between the neckline and the cleavage, and ended just above the knee. Lithe and statuesque was the only way of describing her that I could think of. Slightly curled blonde hair which was cut just below her shoulders, framing a gentle smile that was accentuated by red lipstick. Bright blue eyes complimented her caucasian Eastern European features - I guessed that she was from somewhere like Poland or the Czech Republic. "Body to Body?" she asked, in slightly hesitant English. Definitely Polish. ----- The past couple of years had been rough for me. Now in my mid thirties, life hadn't quite turned out how I expected. It hadn't always been that way though. When I was 25 I met who I thought was going to be the love of my life. Her name was April and I thought she was beautiful, but at the time both of us were in relationships, so there was no subsequent contact. Two years later we both happened to be at a social gathering arranged by mutual friends. In the obligatory catch up conversation both of us found common ground as two people who were newly single and exchanged numbers at the end of the night. Six months later she asked if it was possible to crash at mine so that she could go to a party we were both invited to (April lived 2 hours drive outside of London near the coast). Being the generous soul I am, I said she was welcome, and at the end of the night, we were in bed together, cuddling and kissing like teenagers. The next few years passed like a dream. April left the sticks and moved in with me after three months - we had so many common interests that it didn't take us long to fall in love. I had also started a new job working at a major news agency, which had been a life-long ambition of mine. The pay was bloody good for a journalist, and the work was even better, as I was assigned to cover sports. April would often tag along with me, and we travelled the world together, having amazing moments in every country that we could get to. There was the physical chemistry too. She was by far the most beautiful woman I had ever been in a relationship. Despite only standing at around 5'2", April had an amazing body - a generous 32C bust that was incredibly sensitive to touch, and a physically toned body thanks to regular gym sessions. I wasn't bad myself - at the time I was playing for two different football teams and was very physically fit, albeit a bit chubby due to my love of cooking and eating. Our sex sessions were frequent and energetic - both of us had great stamina and were often horny thanks to the constant exercising. Marriage had started to become a real possibility, but slowly things changed. I damaged my knee in a match after falling awkwardly - two surgeries sidelined me for close to a year and a half. About six months after my injury April started suffering from eczema around her groin, which made it painful for her to have sex. Due to her condition, we stopped having sex completely, but what could I do? We were soulmates, totally in love, and destined to spend the rest of our lives together. ---- Another two years passed. We still weren't having sex, despite her eczema clearing up - there had been some slight scarring which caused April to lose confidence in her appearance. She didn't want to be naked around me, and was totally unresponsive to anything I tried. Thanks to my now ravaged knee I had put on a significant amount of weight, so my own self esteem was also fragile. The sexual frustration was causing a lot of stress as well; I had taken to masturbating frequently when she was either out or asleep. The intimacy had completely gone from our relationship and we had become more like close friends who shared a house. I was carrying a lot of guilt over my libido - I knew the lack of sex was a problem but I felt like a bastard for letting it affect our relationship, as I loved her and I didn't want that to be the reason for ending a relationship. Truthfully, it had been over for a while. I had fully supported her throughout her health problems, so much so that she eventually started taking me for granted. She made very little effort to make me feel wanted or loved, and I was facing the harsh reality that our relationship was over. It took me a year to face the facts and tell her that I wanted to end it, but then she gave me a glimmer of hope when she begged me not to end it, and that she would try harder. So we gave it another go, and it seemed like April was trying - we even managed a couple of sex sessions over the next month and I thought there was hope. Until she decided that I was right, and told me that it was definitely over. ---- It only took her a couple of evenings to move out. I was devastated, and for a week I stayed at my best friend Brian's house just so that I wouldn't be alone. Even though it had been a long time coming, the pain of ending that relationship was traumatic. Brian was a trooper throughout the whole thing, keeping me distracted with gaming, sports on TV and plenty of alcohol and food. I'm amazed he lasted the whole week. Then I got hit by another blow a month later; April posted a picture of herself on Facebook with a new boyfriend, happy and smiling, and I realised that she'd been cheating on me for a while. Begging for a stay of execution from our relationship was a way of giving herself time to develop an exit strategy, and fall straight into the arms of another man. Afterwards, I sank into a dark depression, becoming a loner, staying at home, eating, smoking, and drinking myself into oblivion most nights. I was an emotional wreck, piling on weight, and since I had alienated my friends, I couldn't see what was happening to me. --- The pattern continued for half a year. My weight was starting to get out of control - when I started to socialise again, many of my friends were shocked by the huge gut I was carrying and how haggard I looked. Dating was out of the question - my self esteem was at an all time low, and I felt unattractive and overweight. The lack of sex over the past few years had badly affected me. I was badly in need of release, but the guilt over my previous relationship had affected my confidence and ability to perform, leading to difficulties with my erection. The doctor prescribed Viagra to help me with this, but since I wasn't dating, I had no one to actually try it with. So there I was, sexally frustrated, emotionally and physically broken. My life had fallen apart in what seemed like no time at all, and I needed something to push me back up. --- One day I was browsing on the internet, looking for a decent masseuse. My physiotherapist had recommended regular massages while I was recovering from surgery - the muscles in my body had weakened and tightened up due to lack of exercise. Rehabilitation had finally started, but it was going to be a long process, and my estimated recovery to full fitness was a minimum of a year. Not knowing where to go, I decided to look at advertisements on Gumtree, a website which specialises in listing for just about anything. When I did a search for my local area, about 10 ads popped up, all giving various experience, and types of massage, with prices. It was a bit confusing, so I decided to see if I could find some information or reviews to help narrow down my choices. Googling turned up a number of links, but one caught my eye. "Full Body Massage Forum" or FBMF for short, seemed to have a lot of posters and topics. So I signed up, and spent a bit of time looking through it. The sections were divided up by different categories, starting with area. Clicking on "London", I looked at the next categories available, which were "Non Sensuall", and "Sensual". Sensual? Obviously curiosity got the better of this cat, and I clicked on the Sensual section. It was further divided into "Independents", and "Massage Shops". Digging deeper, what I learned was a big surprise. It seems that there was a thriving scene for masseuses who would offer extra sexual services, ranging from handjobs, body to body massages, or even full on sex. On FBMF there were long threads discussion the merits of certain masseuses and establishments, with prices, services, and attractiveness of providers discussed fully. I was intrigued by this, and spent the next few hours reading up to get more information on how this scene worked. ---- Despite the problems I was having sexually, I had never considered seeing an escort. Without trying to sound arrogant, I was a decent looking guy, and a good conversationalist, which meant that I rarely had to deal with a dry spell. There was also the usual concerns over sexually transmitted diseases, and my own pride. Should I really have to pay a woman to have sex with me? However this new revelation offered another option - I could still have a sexual experience without having to run the risk of STDs, and also get a massage at the same time. The regular posters on the FBMF forum seemed to enjoy it, many of them saying that it was a relaxing environment which wasn't as pressure or intense as seeing an escort. With all this in mind, I decided to give it a try. What did I have to lose? My needs as a man were over-riding any concerns my brain might have. So I went about researching different providers, trying to find one that I thought I could take a chance with. The one that caught my eye was "Soft Body Massage". It wasn't too far from my house, and had received some good reviews. Posters had commented that there were two women working there who were both attractive, and provided a good service at a reasonable cost. They had a professional looking website, and the photos of the masseuses, while having the faces blanked out, were quite sexy. I wasn't stupid enough to think that they could be real pictures, but the opinions of the forum users were enough to convince me. So I called up and made an appointment. --- The location was a flat in a vaguely modern apartment block, situated on a quiet suburb road just a 10 minute drive from my house. It was a gentle spring evening, sunlight leaking through fluffy white clouds as it prepared for it's descent beyond the horizon. I was apprehensive as I approached the apartment, with numerous questions running through my head. Would there be a 300lb beefcake ready to avail me of my personal belongings the minute I walked through the door? Would the women working there actually look anything like their pictures, or would I get a grumpy old bag trying to make ends meet by jacking off horny men? The doubts were piling up, but I resolved that it was too late. I was committed to seeing it through, no matter what happened. The grumpy, middle aged woman who let me in to the apartment did little to ease my fears, however she then led me through another door, and commanded me to wait. Even though I've had massages before, I had never seen a room like this. Thick curtains covered the window, and a gentle glow emanated from a dim lamp placed on an top of a small bookcase; instead of storing books the shelves carried a variety of massage aids: oils, lit candles, and towels. A massage table was the centrepiece of the room, wooden with adjustable heights on each end, and a hole where a head could fit if one was laying face down. Two small sofas and a coffee table added another sense of comfort, with the walls painted a deep shade of what looked like purple. I could hear music playing in the background, some sort of spiritual soft music that one would usually hear in a spa. Despite this, I was nervous - what would my masseuse look like? --- "Body to Body?" "Yes," I just about spluttered out. My mind was still trying to process the beauty of what stood before me, and I blessed the day that my curiosity got the better of me. "Please take off your clothes and lie on the table. Face down." Disrobing, my sense of shame returned. I hated the way my body looked, but this Polish goddess didn't bat an eyelid. Instead she smiled and motioned towards the table. I raised my self onto the massage table, face down as instructed, hearing it creak gently as I settled in. This was a proper massage table that actually had a hole in it for the face to rest in. I felt her soft touch and then the drizzle of warm oil on my back and legs. I started to relax as she began to massage the oil in. "Do you prefer soft, medium or strong?" she asked. "Strong please," I replied. Her hands started to dig into my back, and yelped a little in pain. "Maybe medium is better?" I heard her giggle as she softened her motions. "You're stronger than you look," I proffered, the downward position muffling my speech slightly. "I go to the gym a lot," she replied, "and I use the things for my hands, where you squeeze? I don't know the english name." "Grip strengtheners?" "Say again?" "Grip strengtheners," I repeated again, this time slower and louder so she could hear my pronounciation. She followed my words, saying it a couple of times to get the words right. "What's your name?" I asked. At this point I didn't care what happened, I only knew that I would definitely be making repeat visits. "Camilla." ---- The massage continued at a comfortable pace. Camilla was definitely a skilled masseuse, and we talked more as time progress. She was from Poland, as I had surmised earlier, and had moved to the UK to learn the language, and to find a more interesting life. Her English had more than a slight accent, and I made sure that I spoke clearly and slowly so that she could follow my speech. We found a common ground in travel - she was planning to go to Asia for a few months once she had saved up enough money. Thanks to my chinese heritage I had the opportunity to travel Asia extensively over the years, and so I offered some of my experiences. I wasn't sure how much she actually understood, and the conversation was mostly one way, but it helped to calm my nerves even further. Camilla seemed to be warming to me as well, making an active attempt to converse, and even laughing at some of my stories. Her massage skills were excellent too. My body was responding well to her machinations, the tightness in my back and legs easing as Camilla worked her fingers and hands through the muscles. I was quite impressed - I had received a number of massages over the years, and had to admit that Camilla's was one of the best. I felt her touch draw away, and heard a rustle of fabric. Wondering what was going on, I started to speak, but then felt more warm oil on my back, and another touch - her naked chest was resting on my back. So this was what a body to body massage was. She drew her body along my back, using her hands to guide and follow the movement alternately. It was a wonderful feeling, something I hadn't experienced in many years. I had forgotten what it was like to have a woman's touch on my naked skin. The table creaked suddenly, and I realised Camilla was now straddling my body. She lay down onto my, caressing me with her hands while she slid her body up and down, her breath tickling my neck and shoulders. All thoughts of conversation disappeared from my mind - the sensation was overwhelming and overriding, and all I could do was enjoy the moment. When she lifted herself off me all I felt was regret. "Please turn over." ---- Make me crazy, don't speak no sound, I want you to prove it to me in the nude. ---- Lifting myself up, I flipped over on the table, taking care not to tip it over. Sitting up, I could see her fully naked figure, and I gawped for a moment. Shorn of the black dress, Camilla was a sight to behold. Probably around 5'7", I couldn't help but see how well defined her body was - her earlier claim of going to the gym rang true in my head. A washboard stomach, slim and strong legs, a defined frame; she looked like a fitness model. Her breasts were small but fitted into the proportion of her body. "You're beautiful," I murmured. I was captivated. "Thank you," she smiled in response, and blushed slightly. My heart jumped, in the way than a man's heart would when seeing a beautiful woman smile at him. The fact that I was paying for a massage service was completely forgotten. She took a pillow from the shelf and laid it behind me at the top of the table. "Lie down," she instructed, placing her hand on my arm, still smiling. I was still admiring, and the touch brought me back to to reality. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to stare," I offered. "It's ok," Camilla replied. "I like it." There was that smile again. --- Addicted to the way you move --- She picked up the bottle of oil and started to pour it onto my front, following the stream with her free hand. Both legs, my chest and abdomen, and then finally, my cock. It jumped a little at the warmth of the oil, and then started to rise when her hand touched it. Camilla smiled at me again, obviously pleased at my response. Putting the bottle away, she returned to my legs, massaging my thighs, then my feet. Now that I was facing upright, I could fully observe her movements. There was a sensual quality to them - rhythmic, gentle and deliberate. As she glided her hands up my body and moved around to the side of the table I could see her derrière, wonderfully round and toned. She started to manipulate my cock, cupping and massaging my balls and running her fingers gently up and down the shaft. I let out an exhalation and closed my eyes to enjoy the sensation. With my eyes closed, I didn't see her get on top of me. They opened to see her perched on my thighs, that smile once again dazzling me. Camilla leaned forward, moving almost like an exotic dancer. I could feel her abdomen pressing on my cock, her hands on my chest. She glided downwards, and my manhood was now smothered in her breasts - side to side she moved, stimulating me with her bust, her skin soft and her nipples providing a contrasting touch. Then she moved upwards in a sweeping motion, bringing her face to face with me. I was almost stunned at this moment, overpowered by her beauty and the sheer sexual nature of her movements. She maneouvered herself around, moving her head around mine, her lips agonisingly close to my own as I felt them on my cheeks and my neck. My hands raised almost involuntarily, and rested on her back. I wavered for a moment, wondering if I had crossed a boundary, but her smile reassured me once again. I felt a couple of kisses on my nose and cheek and my excitement returned, yet she maintained a distance just beyond reach of my mouth. --- I can't control this feeling, girl cos I know you're here. I feel you from the floor to the ceiling. --- The body to body continued for a few more minutes, Camilla teasing me beyond belief. My erection was raging by the time she got off the table, and I was ready for release. Standing beside me, her attention became fully focused on my cock. She added more warm oil, and began a smooth sliding motion up and down my shaft. Her free hand massaged the rest of my body, my chest, my nipples, and eventually, my balls. For my part I was now caressing her ass with the hand that was closest to her. She quickened her motions, and I felt my release coming; for the first time in years, not from my own hand. Eventually I couldn't hold it any longer, and my cock erupted, warm cum flowing over her hands and onto my stomach and she jerked every last drop of it. My body shook and I let out a few gasps as well, the intensity of my orgasm surprising me. The combination of the teasing, the body to body massage, and Camilla's stunning beauty had brought me to a place I hadn't experienced for a long time. Bad Habits are Hard to Break "Heather?" Chris asked, slightly sarcastic. "Don't even act like you don't know who this is," Heather said on the other side of the phone. "Yea, what's up with you?" Chris asked, although not really interested. "I'm actually going to be in your part of the state this week," Heather explained. "My husband has a conference in Atlanta and I'm going to be bored all day." "Uh huh," Chris replied, urging her to get to her point. "I wanted to know if you wanted to hang out and catch up," Heather replied, seemly oblivious to his apathy. "Let me take you out to lunch, my treat." "I think the least you owe me is lunch," Chris replied. "Call me when you are heading out in the morning and you can come pick me up. I deal with Atlanta traffic enough." "Sounds great. Have something in mind where you want to eat," Heather said enthusiastically. "Talk to you tomorrow." "Bye," Chris said. Chris immediately pushed End on his cell phone and searched his contacts to dial another number. "Jake," Chris gasped. "You will not believe who just called me." "I don't believe you, who?" Jake replied sarcastically. "Heather." "Heather? Your Heather? The slut you were practically engaged to all those years ago?" Jake asked. "Same one," said Chris. "What the hell did she want?" Jake asked with increasing curiosity. "She wants to have lunch," said Chris. "Apparently she is stuck in Atlanta all week for some conference her husband is going to." "That's not all she wants to have," Jake said assumingly. "Jake, she's married now." "So what, bad habits are hard to break." "I know and she definitely had a crowded field at the end of our relationship but for the majority of it she was awesome." "Whatever dude, I'm just saying, don't be surprised is she pulls something on you." "Okay, we'll see." "Let me know how it goes." "Will do" ********************** "What the hell," Chris groaned into the phone. "Morning!" said a perky voice. "Lunch is in the afternoon if you didn't know," Chris said. "I've been up since 6AM, you're lucky this is only an 8 AM wake-up call," replied Heather. "Get up." "What do you want?" Chris whined. "Breakfast," said Heather "Hell no, that's like half price on a meal, and you owe me." "Calm yourself, I'll treat you to both. I'm bored now!" "I'll give you something to entertain you," Chris thought, stiffening his already rock-hard morning erection. "Fine, come to Homer Heights, the apartment complex right off 85 just past the TA and call me when you get here," said Chris. "Sounds good," said Heather. I could use some T&A this morning myself. "Chris?" asked Heather. "Chris?" "Huh? Yea, sounds great," Chris replied, realizing he had drifted in his thoughts about him and Heather's past experiences. "See you in a minute," said Heather before hanging up the phone. Chris thought about Heather's hot body; her huge tits and tight, athletic legs and the fantastic sex they used to have, although it wasn't just him she was sharing it with. He had put so much emotional investment into the relationship he could only get rid of her when he found out about the cheating. What he would give to just have her sex again. He continued to think about it as he jacked his cock, hurrying an orgasm before she showed up. ********************** Chris had just enough time to clean up before Heather knocked on his door. Chris's eyes were wide as he sighted a slimmer, sexier Heather standing before him. She wore heals and panty hoses, which went up under a conservative knee-length skirt and topped with a tucked-in button down shirt that was tight enough to show her still-enormous rack and a flatter stomach. Her long blonde soft curls were pushed back with a pair of expensive-looking sunglasses. "Hel-lo," Chris finally stammered. "Nice place," Heather said as she quickly eyed his apartment. It was a modest apartment but still nicer than anything he had owned before, especially when she knew him last. "It's a place to hang my hat, let's go," Chris said as he pushed Heather through the door. It was all he could do not to drag her kicking and screaming into his bedroom to rape fuck her. ********************** Heather and Chris sat down at a small outdoors table in front of a gourmet café. Chris found it difficult not to stare at Heather as she adjusted herself in her seat, straightening out what were obviously her thigh-high stockings. Chris bit his lip thinking about what else was under that skirt. "What can I get you folks?" asked the waiter. "I'll have a number 10 with extra bacon and a Pepsi," replied Chris, naming of the most expensive item on the breakfast menu. Heather rolled her eyes and said "I'll have the fruit place and a Mimosa please." "Yes, small or lar-" "Large please," Heather interrupted. "Yes ma'am," said the waiter, looking at his watch at the early hour. "No melon in that fruit place," Chris said before the waiter walked away. Heather couldn't help but smile noticing Chris remembered after all this time how much she hated melon. "So, how have you been?" asked Heather. "Oh, same ol' same ol'; nothing to report," Chris answered, obviously not wanting to talk about himself. "What have you been up to lately?" Chris asked, eager to change the direction of conversation. "I did finished grad school and was looking for other work, but after John and I got married I sort of stepped into "playing the roll" while he took off on his plans," Heather said with slight disappointment. "I mean, he's a lobbyist, a lawyer lobbyist at that, it's not like he needed both of us to work." "He looks like he kept you in shape," Chris said, eyeing her up and down. "Excuse me?" Heather asked in a stern tone. "I'm just saying you're obviously good at 'keeping up appearances' for him in public," Chris replied, inferring her athletic shape. "I suppose," Heather said, not sure if that was his true inference or not. "You've obviously had some work done," Chris continued, trying his best to hold back a smile. "I have not!" Heather screamed. "Oh come on, not even a little around the mid-section?" Chris went on, reaching his head around the table to get a better glance at her shapely body. "I think three hours a day in the gym is all the stress this body can handle," Heather said, blushing when she realized that's not all her body had handled. "Oh dear God, she's turned into her mother," thought Chris. Heather's mom was always snobby to him and it was more than obvious to him what her marriage to Heather's father was really about -- money. "I don't know Heather, you'd have to prove it to me," Chris grinned. About that time the waiter had come back with their drinks. Heather didn't even flinch when he put down her enormous glass of Champaign and orange juice. "I see your appetite for alcohol hasn't changed much," Chris laughed. "You still don't drink?" Heather asked with surprise. "No, it leads to bad decisions," Chris replied, glaring at her accusingly. "Yeah, listen, I'm sorry about all that," said Heather. "I know it might not mean much to you now but I had a lot of issues back then and I'm sorry if I hurt you." "You didn't hurt me, that whole thing had taken its toll anyhow," said Chris. "Oh, well, I'm glad it wasn't that big a deal," Heather replied. The waiter came back with their food and Chris took the opportunity to excuse himself. ********************** "Dude, what's going on?" Jake asked on the other end of Chris's cell phone. "Holy shit, Jake, Heather looks so hot!" said Chris. "So has she hit on you yet?" asked Jake. "Hell no, she's not even thinking about that," said Chris. "She's all upset about 'how she broke my heart' and her shitty life." "Whatever, you just keep acting like you don't want it and she will jump all over you," said Jake. "Yea right, thanks for the advice, I have to get back." Chris said before hanging up the phone. ********************** Cleavage. That's all he could see as Chris came back to his table. There is no way he went the morning and didn't notice her perk tits coming out like that; she had to have unbuttoned her shirt. He could tell she tanned and her boobs were as luscious as he remembered from before. She had the most sensitive nipples and she ached and begged for him to touch and suck her until she came. Chris quickly sat down before she could take notice of his growing dick. "Don't let your food get cold," she said and she took another swig of her drink. "Can I get you another one ma'am?" asked the waiter, jumping to her attention from behind Chris. "Yes please," Heather said as she put the empty glass on the table. She picked up the glass one last time to shake the last of the drink down her throat. A drop of condensation fell from glass and landed on her chest. Chris eyed the droplet as it trickled across her breast bone and finally dove down the valley between her breasts. Chris wanted her so badly. "Woo, that felt good," Heather said, wiping the dew off her chest. The waiter came back with another gaudy glass of mimosa. "Thank you," she said, quickly taking up another gulp. Chris could tell she was feeling the alcohol already. She had hardly any food in her stomach and she was always a light-weight, even when she was drinking a lot. "Are you not hot out here?" she asked, pulling her shirt collar open even wider, exposing even more of her heaving chest. "No, I'm good," Chris said, barely able to take his eyes off her tits. "I'm about ready to get into some AC," Heather said, hinting it was time to leave. "You're in charge," said Chris, flagging down the waiter. Heather cannon-balled the rest of her drink before the waiter got back with the check. ********************** They were lucky Chris lived so close to the café, Heather wouldn't have been able to drive much further. "Oh, thank God!" she exclaimed as she walked into Chris's apartment, which was bustling with air conditioning. "I don't know how you handle this Atlanta weather," she said as she plopped down onto his couch. "You get accustomed to it," Chris said. He decided to take Jake's advice and took a seat in his side chair, purposely not sitting next to her. She made a face of disappointment before sitting up and chatting away again. Heather went on about her "new life" and how different it was from what she pictured she would be at her age. When Chris and Heather were together, they had a modest ideal of being married and being poor together until one of them landed a dream job and Heather could get pregnant and whoever didn't have the kick-ass job would be a stay-at-home parent, which Heather was strongly trying to avoid. Now is seemed she was a stay-at-home mom, but without the kids. "I love my husband and he takes good care of me, but I just thought I would have done more with my life at this point, you know?" said Heather. "Sure," said Chris. He finally went to go sit beside Heather in an attempt to comfort her. "You are really sweet to be so nice to me after all I did to you," Heather said, trying to regain herself. "It was still fucked up you felt the need to go fuck around when all you had to do was tell me you didn't want to have a relationship anymore," said Chris. "But it's hard to have ill will towards you after all this time." "But still . . . ." Heather's voice trailed off as she nuzzled closer to him. There was a long pause between the two of them. And as if an alarm went off Heather lunged at Chris and kissed him; a passion-filled kiss. He could still taste the sweetness on her lips from the orange juice and champagne. Her mouth was hot and eager as her tongue raced across his in a lustful frenzy. At first Chris has little reaction but to just kiss back. Mostly shock kept him from fondling her the way he imagined just that morning when he was getting off to the thought of her body. "Oh God," Heather screamed as she pulled back from their kiss, covering her mouth with her hand. "What?" Chris asked. "This is not me anymore, oh God, I can't do this again," Heather said, more to herself than Chris. "Bullshit," Chris exclaimed. "You know you want this." "That's not the point, Chris, I'm married and this isn't right," said Heather. "I never should have come here." "Oh hell no," Chris said, beginning to get angry. "I said you owed me and I didn't mean breakfast." Before she could react Chris grabbed her by her hips and pulled her towards him so that she was lying down on the couch. "What do you think you're doing?" Heather asked, in a less fearful voice than Chris had anticipated. "Getting my due," Chris replied as he pulled her legs apart to reveal what he suspected about her thigh-high stockings. He was even more confident about his accusation when he saw that she wasn't wearing any panties either. "Oh, you little slut." "No, Chris," Heather said as she struggled away from him grip. Chris grabbed both Heather's wrists and pinned them above her head to keep her still. With his other hand he grabbed the back of Heather's long blonde hair and pulled her head back. Heather was trying to push Chris away from her with her legs but he wedges between them and pinned her still with his pelvis. Chris then leaned in close to her ear. "You know you want me to fuck you," he whispered in a harsh tone. "I'll do it if you tell me you want it." "Chris, please," Heather begged. Chris tightened his grip on her hair and made her wince. "Please what?" Chris asked, simultaneously thrusting his now rock-hard cock into her. "Ahh, please, we can't do this," Heather whispered back. "Tell me you want it, tell me you want me to fuck you," Chris said as he continued to tease with thrusts. "Oh God, yes, please, please fuck me," Heather said finally. "I want you to fuck me." He let up on her just enough for her to get her hands to the hilt of his pants as she revengingly unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down off his hips. Chris's dick sprung from hiding. Heather's eyes widened as she revisited its beauty. She had forgotten what it was like to be with an endowed man. Chris peaked at 7.5 inches and he was definitely maxed out right now. Chris spread her glistening pussy lips open with the head of his dick. He teased her slightly, pushing just the head in and out, coating it with her increasing wetness. He kissed and bit her neck as he continued to pull her hair, waiting for her to gyrate into him. Heather was rolling her eyes back and clawing at his back, begging to be fucked. She pressed her fingertips down his back and Chris could feel she was leaving red streaks. She surprised Chris when she reached over his ass, grabbed with both hands and pulled him into her. Both of them opened their eyes wide and enjoyed the rush that waved through their bodies at the recognition of feeling each other once again. "Oh my God, yeeessss!" Heather screamed. Chris worked slowly with full strokes in and out of her wet pussy, looking at his cock glistening as it came out of her again. It didn't take long till he increased his pace and drilled Heather the way she liked to be fucked. Heather lifted her legs to accept Chris even deeper. His gyrations made her ass bounce up and down on the couch until their rhythm was in sync. Chris reached under her back and he held onto her shoulders so he could ravage her even harder. "Chris . . . I'm going to cum," Heather said with anticipation in her voice. Even after all this time and with a new husband, he still knew how to make her cum just as quickly. "more, more, More, MORE, MORE, OH MY GOD, YeeeEEESSSSS!" Heather screamed loudly and in Chris's ear. He felt his pelvis get warm and then he felt her wetness, her massive wetness, all over him. Her cum made her pussy even more slick and easy to fuck. Heather lay there, almost limp from her orgasm, as she let Chris fuck her even fast still. Chris felt the cum building up inside him. He lifted himself up, preparing to cum. Instead of pulling out and hosing her down with his nut, which is what Heather expected of him, Chris leaned over, grabbed Heather by the back of her neck and kissed her. His kiss was hard and hot. He still couldn't help but grunt as his dick exploded with cum inside her hot pussy. Heather could feel his dick pulsing with every last drop. Chris lay still on Heather, kissing her more softly, for a minute until he could regain his composer. When he finally lifted himself off her Chris looked down at the flooding that Heather had done to him. She must have needed that nut real bad. "Oh my God, I haven't cum like that in years," Heather said breathlessly. "Well, since you, I suppose." "Oh really?" Chris asked sarcastically. "If I was so great why were you fucking other guys then, huh?" "I knew it! You are still hurt over that still." Heather said with excitement. "Oh, shut up," Chris replied. "It's hard to get upset when your bad habits are the reason I just fucked your brains out just now." Heather looked like she wanted to say something else but she cut herself off. "Why does it matter to you anyway?" Chris asked. "It doesn't," Heather said, getting off the couch and eager to end the conversation. "Just ego I guess." Chris suddenly realized he hadn't seen Heather naked yet. As she walked across the room away from him he could hardly tell she had even had sex. Besides her fabulous sex hair and pink complexion, she looked no different than she did that morning. "Umm, don't you want to take a shower or something before you go back to your husband?" Chris said, trying not to sound obvious. "Oh, he'll be at the conference until late tonight; I'll be fine to take a shower back at the hotel before I see him next," Heather said. Chris now regretted that he had been so forceful; he wanted to enjoy seducing Heather out of her clothes. She was sipping on bottled water from his refrigerator and trying to cool down her body. He could see her through the kitchen eyelet and even though he had just fucked her, he felt she was unattainable still. "So, are we still on for lunch?" Chris asked. Bad Habits "Thank you," I whispered, smiling and feeling at peace. "You're welcome," she replied. "I enjoyed it too." "Really?" Realising that my eyes were closed, I opened them to see her beaming at me. A few minutes later I was showered and ready to be on my way. Camilla showed me to the door, and gave me a kiss on the cheek as a goodbye. I was smitten. --- Lady when we lock it low, we get together It's an overdose --- Over the next six months I became a regular at Body Mind, normally going once every three weeks, always asking for Camilla when I booked my sessions. The company itself was quite professionally run - I was even given a loyalty card on my second time which entitled me to a free session after six visits. As time progressed, Camilla and I became more acquainted with each other. Her english improved as well, which made it easier for us to talk and get along. We learned more about each other - I told her about my work as a journalist, and entertained her with more stories of my life. She was only 21 compared to my 32 years, so there was still a lot for her to experience, and we talked about her hopes and ambitions for the future, as well as some of her interests. I wasn't surprised to find out that she was a very sexual creature - she often attended fetish parties and loved dressing up. That scene was entirely new to me so I was intrigued, and she told me some stories of her own about some of the debauchery that happened at these parties. It was a world I would never enter, but the stories of her adventures, and the vivid descriptions of the outfits she wore allowed my imagination to run riot when our sessions turned towards the climax. As we became closer she allowed me to touch her more. It became normal for me to be able to massage her breasts, or fondle her pussy lips when they were within reach. She started holding my hand when she was jerking me to climax. On one memorable occasion I was allowed to suckle her nipples. However the boundaries remained in place; we never kissed, and all sexual contact was with hands only. The intimacy we had only increased as we became closer, yet Camilla was always firm that we would never cross the line. I even asked her to dinner once, and was met with a gentle rebuffal that she didn't go out with clients. I was a little dejected after that, but I understood her professionalism, and didn't go out of my way to push it further. After all, I was enjoying myself in the company of one of the beautiful women I had ever met, so why ruin a good thing? As for my personal life, it had improved slightly. One night I had two of my best friends over for dinner, Brian, who I mentioned earlier, and Shirley. The three of us had lived on the same street as children, so we had grown up together and were extremely close as a result. Brian and I had played on the same football team and Shirley went to a school near mine. As a trio we were inseparable, and most of the best times in our lives were spent with each other. I hadn't told them about my illicit body to body massages though - some things should be kept private. Anyway, on that night all the problems I had faced came to the surface, and I had a meltdown in front of them. They had been trying to get me out of my depression for a while, and we were on the subject of death - one of my cousins who I was close to had passed away suddenly a couple of months previous, and that had affected me greatly. Eventually, after recounting all the setbacks I had faced, I broke down in front of them, bursting into tears and blubbering that life couldn't get any worse. Shirley cradled me in her arms while Brian handed me tissues and talked me through my pain. It was a horrible night for all of us, but it ended up being a positive experience. I had always been the type of person who didn't reveal my feelings to my friends - I tended to suffer alone as I didn't want to drag other people down with me. As a result, most people who knew me didn't realise how badly I was hurting inside, since I was always able to put on a jovial front when I was out with them. Even Brian and Shirley hadn't realised how badly I was hurting. After that night, I started to get a grip on myself. I realised that one of the reasons I wasn't recovering mentally was because I was trying to keep myself together and power on through it, when really I should have stopped and taken time to properly reflect on all the setbacks I had faced. I started to get regular counselling - more tears ensued, but it gave me the chance to fully rationalise and understand my feelings. My friends made more of an effort to keep my spirits up, and helped to get me out of the house and back into the social scene. --- This is the highest cost Take you and make you off Love you and leave you lost Will you forgive me? --- One day I was with Camilla for our usual session. The day had been a rough one; three people had called in sick at work and I had to write a bunch of articles to cover for them. By the time I got out of the office it was close to 8pm, and I had taken the last appointment of the day as a way of rewarding myself. When I arrived, Camilla also seemed a bit tired, but to her credit she didn't let it show, and my spirits were soon lifted. I had gotten into the habit of booking longer sessions with her just so we could talk more - often she would like naked on the table next to me and we could chat for a while about life while fondling and caressing each other. It seems stupid when I think back, but it taps into a innate human need for many of us. People will go to great lengths for two things - sex, and to avoid loneliness. As a journalist I have covered my fair share of heartbreaking stories about those particular subjects. Not to mention the number of relationships I have observed over the years that seemed incomprehensible to me. I am lucky to have been in love, and maybe unlucky to have lost it, but one thing I do know from my experience is that the fear of losing love outweighs just about any other emotion I had ever felt. That's why many people will turn to paid companionship when there is no other option, just to have that feeling of someone else beside them who won't judge or criticise. I once interviewed a notorious escort, who told me that more than half of her clients didn't even want sex, they just wanted someone to talk to. I found that baffling at the time, but having experienced more of life, I didn't find it so strange anymore. As was our routine, we were cuddling on the table and talking, when Camilla said something that really hurt me. "Your breasts are bigger than mine," she had said idly, with a giggle. My weight was still a sensitive issue to me. As someone who had been very fit in the past, I had stubbornly refused to acknowledge what I had become. My last weigh in had hit the scale at around 220lbs, and I was getting to the stage where I could become classified as obese. Shirley had been nagging me constantly to lose weight, but I kept ignoring her. Perhaps it was due to my lack of self esteem after April had left me - I didn't feel like I could be better or deserve better, so I hadn't tried. I never told Camilla how I felt when she said that. I carried on smiling, and we finished as usual, but when I went home that night I took a look at myself in the mirror, and thought that I had to change. Mentally I was the road to recovery, but I needed a kick to get me going physically. Camilla was only making a playful joke, but for some reason it had cut me more deeply than any of the comments my friends had made. Upon reflection, I think it's a combination of a couple of things; firstly, she was the only woman who had seen me naked since April. Secondly, I felt that her beauty was something that put her way out of my league, and that joke was a harsh, if not deliberate reminder, that I was far less attractive to the opposite sex while in that state. After that night I made a resolution to myself to not go back to Camilla until I could get myself into shape. My next physio appointment was a week later, and I told him that I wanted to get back into shape. No matter what I would have to go through, I needed to get back to my old shape. He was a little surprised at my determination, but put me into a proper rehab program which would involve intense workouts twice a week. They were designed to strengthen the muscles in my legs so that I could start running again, and even play football again. So I submitted myself to those, and added extra workouts on the days inbetween to train the rest of my body. I changed my diet completely, smoked less, drank less (a person still needs their vices!), and became a dedicated fitness buff. I started training with Brian, but eventually had to train on my own, as he complained that my workouts were becoming too hard for him to keep up. The gym became my second form of therapy. It took me about 9 months, but eventually I managed to drop over 60lbs. The physio was amazed at the progress I had made and signed me off with a big smile. My therapist was happy too - I had taken all the negatives in my life and used them as motivation. I was happier with myself and with life, and my confidence had returned. Socially, I was starting to get those looks from women again; Shirley began to pimp me out to her single friends with confidence, and even though I never progressed into a relationship with them, I did make some new friends, and was even able to have sex again, which was another personal achievement. I did try and go back to see Camilla again, but when I called up Soft Body I found that the number was disconnected. I logged back into FBMF for the first time in months, and found out that the business had closed down 3 months ago. The other masseuses who worked there had moved onto other companies and taken their regulars with them, but Camilla had disappeared. Presumably she had saved up enough money to take the Asian holiday she always wanted. It was a shame - I wanted to see her again so that she could see what I had been able to achieve, and to show her the happier person that I had become. I still browse the forums from time in the hope that she will resurface and start working again; while I originally went for sexual release, the relationship I got from it was welcome and unexpected, and I harbour a tinge of regret and loss at the sudden ending of it. Hopefully one day I can go back to my bad habit.