The Masseuse Ch. 02


I wasn’t so surprised, this time around, to see Abigail on my client list for another massage session. Part of me was wondering if she would stay away, but she had clearly enjoyed her massage and fucking session last time. She hadn’t reported me for lewd behavior. So I knew there was a chance that she would return.

But I was definitely pleased. I had, ever since that one session two weeks ago, planned hundreds of different massage sessions for her. I pictured spending an entire session on her breasts, seeing if we could make her cum that way. I wanted to rub her all over as a vibrator hummed inside her. Would she let me fuck her mouth as I rubbed her shoulders? And so on.

So when I went to the room to prepare for her session, I came up with a vague plan. Hopefully, she would still want to fuck—that had to be why she returned, right? She wouldn’t return for just a plain old massage, unless it was part of a plan to drive me crazy.

Hmm. Maybe that was her plan.

I went out to the waiting room and found her there, wearing tiny daisy duke shorts and a low-cut black t shirt. Her hair was left down, stopping just above her ass, and she was all softness and curves. She was smiling broadly as she saw me come out.

“Last time was just so good,” She said by the way of a hello, “That I just had to come back.”

“I’m glad,” I said, noting the two other people in the waiting room along with Betty, the receptionist. “I always try to please me clients. Any soreness from last time?”

“Just the good sore,” Abigail said, blushing slightly. “Like I’d been worked over hard, you know?”

Ha. Yeah. I knew.

I lead her to the room, which was across the hall from the one we used last time. “Same thing?” Abigail asked. “Strip and go under the covers?”

Mmm. “Well, I was thinking,” I said in a low voice. “The covers just got in the way last time. Why not just lie on top? It’s not like I haven’t seen you in the nude before.”

“Hmm,” Abigail said playfully. “I’ll get cold.”

“I’ll keep you warm.” Besides, there was a heating pad.

Abigail suddenly grinned. “Well, then. I suppose you won’t object to getting naked too? In the name of convenience, of course.”

I smiled and put a lock of her hair behind her ear. “Okay. Just let me go outside so it looks like we’re innocent.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Abigail said. “I’m nothing but innocent.”

I snorted and left the room, closing the door behind me, and had a quick idea. I went to the cabinet where we kept spare lotion, and found one of the few bottles of oil we had for people with skin allergies. Perfect.

I waited the right amount of time, my cock getting stiffer by the second, then knocked on the door and came in. Fuck—Abigail was lying like a centerfold model, on her right side, her knees slightly bend and her breasts playing peekaboo through her hair. There isn’t a more erotic sight than breasts poking through long hair—any guy will agree, and probably any lesbian too.

Well,” Abigail said, idly tracing a pattern on her naked hip. “Your turn.”

Yup. I started off by taking off my shirt, throwing it against the door eagerly. My khaki shorts came off next, and finally my briefs. Out I sprung, my dick eager to meet Abigail.

Final item was my socks and shoes, which I just kicked off. “So, ma’am,” I said. “Am I fit for duty?”

“Looks like,” Abigail said. I walked a bit closer to her and she stopping running her fingers on her hip, instead reaching out to my dick. “You’re big.”

“Eight inches.”

“Thick, too.” Abigail used her pinky finger to swirl around the tip of my cock, and I gave a low groan. “I didn’t really get to see you last time—didn’t get to appreciate. Does he have a name?”

“Not really,” I said. I knew some guys who had named their dicks, but it felt a little creepy to me.

“Hmm,” Abigail said. “Little Dean. Dick Dean. Dean’s Beans.”

“Or you could just call Bostancı Escort it my dick,” I said.

“Mmm. Dean’s big cock—it just wants to get in my pussy, doesn’t it? Pound away and bottom out? Feel me squeeze and twitch around you?”

She started swirling with her index finger now, faster, and I groaned again. Then she stopped and lay face down. “Massage time,” she said. “If you blow so early, what are we going to do?”

“I wasn’t going to cum this early,” I retorted.

“Well you might have started fucking faster, and where’s the fun without a bit of foreplay, hmm?”

Well, two could play at this game.

I took her hair off her back and brought it to the top of her head. Then warmed the oil in my hands and pushed down, just like I had last time. Only this time, I pushed as far as I could, down past her ass cheeks, and gave a few circles of her pussy hole. A little creamy white juice was already coming out, so I rubbed it in.

This time, Abigail groaned, and like I dreamed of last time, my dick was right by her mouth. I gave a few bounces, so it slapped her on her mouth, and she rewarded it with a long lick.

I came back up and started working on her left shoulder. “I’ve been thinking about you,” I said.

“I’ve thought about you,” Abigail agreed. “I kept on thinking about you, and then I would have to play with myself, and so yesterday, I went, why not come back? Because it was the hottest thing, Dean. Knowing that someone could hear us. Knowing that you wanted me enough to risk everything. Knowing that you were going to fuck me.”

“Tell me about it. “

“You were there!”

“No, I mean, tell me about you playing. Maybe the last time. The time you were so desperate you knew you had to come back.”

“Hmm-mmm,” Abigail said as I started working on a knot. “Well, I have a long commute. So typically, I would start thinking of you while driving home. I drive past the community college, so maybe that is why. And I would remember how good it felt—how hard I came.” Goosebumps came on her back. “Does that make me dirty? That I liked that somebody could come in on us, or that someone could hear us?”

“Sexy,” I said. “Or sensual. Nothing bad.”

I felt her give a little sigh by my dick. “So I usually wear skirts to work, so eventually, I get horny. And the first time, I was stuck at this red light and thought, why not? So at the traffic light, I hiked up my skirt and put my panties to the side.”

My dick twitched at the thought. “Mmm.” I said. “No nipple play?”

Well, I didn’t want anyone to see,” Abigail explained. “I mean the whole point—well, some of the point–was that I could be caught, but I don’t want to be. So no nipples. At that light, I just took a finger and strokes up and down, a circle around my clit to a circle around my pussy.”

I can feel her muscles loosed as she tells the story. I move, so unfortunately my dick isn’t by her face any more, but go to her lower back so I can have a look at her pussy. I can almost see it throbbing.

“Just slow circles,” She says. “And then the light turns green and I had to take my hand away. I’m telling you, this made me want traffic. And I hate traffic!”

“So what did you do at the next red light?”

Abigail sighs and brings her head to the side. “Figure eights this time. I might flick my clit, purely on accident, of course, but never going inside. And with my other hand, I teased my thighs—slowly running up and down.”

I couldn’t resist it. I took my oiled hands and went between her legs, running up and down her thighs. Abigail gasped. “Like that,” she murmured. “Like that. Dean, you need to touch me.”

“Not yet, ” I said. “This is sweet revenge for playing with me earlier. What happened at the next red light?”

“Just a pinky inside,” Abigail said. “But always moving. Rotating. Going in or out. Slowly. And with my other hand, just up and down. Sometimes stopping below Anadolu Yakası Escort my clit, sometimes stopping above.” She tried to grind into the bed, but there’s no relief for her there.

I run my fingers through her hair as I go over to her other side. “And the next light?”

“I just wanted to get home at this point, but I also wanted all the ref lights so I could actually get going,” said Abigail. “It didn’t seem safe to fingerfuck while driving, and I like to tease myself. So the next light I did two fingers, my index and my middle. Fucking myself at a good pace. And I let my thumb go up, like a bunny ears, so it would hit my clit…Dean, please.”

I smiled and pushed down on her left side, getting her ass cheek but not what she needed. Abigail tried to thrust her ass up but I brought my hands away from her ass; she tried to reach down but I caught her hands. “Not yet,” I saw. “You didn’t tell me how you got home.”

I moved back to by her head, so my dick is jutting out by her face, and she can smell and see me, teasing her some more. I rub up and down her neck. “I’m a clit girl,” Abigail said. “I mean, maybe many women are, I don’t know. So the next light, I don’t bother with my pussy. I spread my lips up and out with one hand, and on the other hand, just rub as fast as I can. Licking my hand to keep it nice and wet, pinching my clit, doing circles at some points and just grinding against it at others. But then the light turns green and I have to get going, and I can start to feel some juices near my thighs, they’ve run down my skirt. And it’s just one more light until I get home.”

I look down at my dick. It’s purple, some precum leaking out. I didn’t know the hearing about how a woman could get off would do anything to me, but this was definitely doing it for me. “And then?” I ask.

“Final light,” Abigail said quietly. “And I came close, I really did. I pinched and squeezed my clit, I pounded my pussy with three fingers, I was bouncing up and down on the driver’s seat and maybe someone could see, but all I wanted was to cum. But the light turned green, and I couldn’t. I was never able to cum until I got home, any time I tried. But you could make me cum. You could fill me up right now, Dean, please…”

“You still haven’t answered my question,” I said, reaching down again. Surely she could see my dick by her. “What changed your mind?”

“Well, two days ago, I park my car in the garage and I’m desperate,” Abigail said. She pauses to give my cock a little lick and then blows, her own sweet form of torture. “My roommate was doing laundry, the dryer was on and I knew that meant she was home, but I didn’t care. I took off my panties and skirt and sat on top of that old, thumping driving, humping myself and thinking of you. And I came, I squirted all the way down it…please, fuck me…”

I can smell her a bit now, so I figure my torture is over. I stop massaging her neck and instead walk around the table, trailing a few fingers down her back, until I reach her sweet bottom. I take each leg and pull her down the table, making her straddle it, so her glistening pussy is available to me. “So when you were rubbing yourself up and down,” I say, taking a finger from each handing and rubbing the outside of her slit, then the inside, opposite directions. “You were thinking of me?”

“Yes,” She said, giving a little gasp as I carefully avoided her clit that was peeking out from the hood. It was dark purple.

“And the figure eights?” I asked, now moving my fingers that way, around her clit and her leaking hole.

“Yes,” Abigail said, her breath hitching as I went faster. “I pictured you.”

“And when you pounded in your pussy at the red lights?”

Abigail gasps as I dig three fingers into her pussy without hesitation, moving up and down, as fast as I can. “Yes,” She said. “Yes!”

“And as you fingered that clit?” I ask, using my other hand to move apart Pendik Escort her folds, and seeing that purple head. It was just begging to be flicked, so I started with that, then just rubbing, up, down, left, right…

“Yes,” Abigail cries out. “Yes! Fuck yes…I’m going to cum, I…ahhhhh…”

I could feel her walls grip my fingers and see it trying to milk me, but I didn’t stop either pounding away or rubbing her clit. Twice she tried to lift herself away from me, her pussy so sensitive after her orgasm, but I didn’t let her. I just let her continue on the high until eventually she was just gasping for air, and quiet.

“I haven’t tasted you yet,” I said. “That is a shame.” I licked off one hand; she tasted like salted cream. Delicious. I use my thumbs to peel apart her folds and kiss her pussy softly, once, twice, then stick my tongue inside and out like a quick lap, then suckle the hole, then explore down nearer her front, trying to find those drops of cum to eat.

When I feel her start trying to grind against my chin, I know she’s ready again. I get up on my knees behind her on the bed, kneeling, and carry her up so her back is to my chest.

“I feel you,” Abigail said.

“You know why you couldn’t cum at the traffic lights?” I ask Abigail. She shakes her head. “You weren’t doing anything to these beautiful breasts.” I knead them with both hands, getting her inverted nipples to pop out, lightly circling them as I continue to massage. “It’s criminal, to ignore them like that.”

“I didn’t want anyone to see” Abigail mewls.

“You work in an office building, right?” I ask Abigail. She gives another nod. “Good. Tomorrow, when you’re thinking about me, I want you to take two binder clips. Just the small ones. Then, before you leave, go to the bathroom and take off your bra, and bring out these nipples.” I take my hands away from her breasts, to get my fingers wet, and then bring them back down, playing with her nipples some more. “When your nipples get nice and hard, put the binder clips on them.” I pinch her nipples with my hand, and she hisses.

“It’ll hurt,” Abigail said.

“No, it’ll feel,” I said. “It’ll feel even when you’re driving. And you’ll know that you’re doing what I told you to do. You’ll cum. Trust me.”

And as I say that, I bring my cock between her lips, feeling new wetness bathing it. Abigail moans. “You were very loud last time,” I said. “You need to be quiet, understand?”

“Yes,” Abigail said.

“Kiss me.”

Abigail turns her head to the side and brings her lips to mine, and as she touches me there I thrust inside. I feel her moan in my throat. Unlike last time, where I was just slamming from the word go, this time I take it more slowly. Halfway in, halfway out. Full in, full out. Halfway in, long pause, out.

“Dean…” Abigial says, breaking the kiss.

“Shh,” I say, before suckling her earlobe.

“I need more.”

“Then take more.”

Abigail reaches down, between her legs and mine, and I feel my balls resting on her hand. She gives them a slight squeeze, and then she’s not just meeting my thrusts, but thrusting back.

I build the pace, feeling myself start to slam against her ass. I take a hand and reach down to her clit, flicking it, while her spare hand reaches to my back and helps hold her stuffy. Abigail is gasping, and I feel her start to twitch on me.

“Squeeze,” I say.

Abigail squeezes, with both her hand and my pussy, and I fuck her one, two, three, four, five more times before I feel myself explode inside of her. Abigail tries to rise off of me but I stop, leaning back onto my feet and helping her to sit on me.

“Wait,” I say, and I run my fingers through her hair and along her scalp.

Eventually, the two of us stop moving. I lift Abigail off of me, exiting her with a slight pop, and she turns around to look at me. “I still haven’t tasted you,” Abigail says softly.

“You can clean me up,” I suggested.

I was surprised—but maybe I shouldn’t with Abigail—but she did bring her head down, and lick me off, until I was clean again. “I could mostly taste me,” She said, sounding disappointed.

I kiss her lips softly. “Don’t worry. There’s always next time.”

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