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The Masseuse

The Masseuse

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Published by Catherine Bell

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Published by: Catherine Bell on Mar 01, 2010
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial


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The Masseuse

word count: 522

The wide straps of her full support brassier cut into the folds of her skin producing a challenge for Jeremy. He slid his fingers under the straps adjusted them and allowing access to the pillowy flesh of her shoulder blades. As she lay face down on the table, he concentrated on the soothing music melting around them.

“Yes, that’s right Jeremy” her voice broke in over the quiet jazz. “That’s where it hurts.”

The quiet sound of her speech caused his blood to warm at a low simmer. He dug the nail of his middle finger into the palm of his hand, drawing his body away from the sensation.

The allure of a much older woman harassed him. Applying a controlled allowance of pain was one of the most effective and discrete forms of distraction. Slamming a hand in a desk drawer or thrusting a chair leg down on a big toe could be accomplished in most rooms they put him in, leaving him free from torment.

He stretched his hand out on the soft mound making up her lower back and administered measured pressure. This move pulled out a deep, throaty moan from Mrs. Porter. He bit down on his lower lip until he tasted the saltiness of blood.

Adding more oil, he expanded his work space to include the voluptuous sides connecting her back to the soft cushion of her stomach. Kneading in such a focused manner caused the heat between his hands and her skin to radiate. He glowed in the warmth. She sighed again audibly testing his resolve. He bent his pinkie finger back wincing from the burn.


The Masseuse

word count: 522

Pressing just hard enough to cause a wave of skin to move along under his thumbs, he worked his way up her arms. Rewarded at the end of his journey, her shoulders met her neck in a sensual roll of flesh. He massaged the spongy mass staring at the array of silvery ringlets covering her head. Her hair smelled of vanilla and he found himself lingering in the aroma.

Breathing from his mouth in counts of four, he finished the massage with a slow press down her back releasing the pressure only when his fingers met up with the thick elastic waistband of her underwear. Remaining no longer than he dared, he spoke in a whisper. “Thank you, Mrs. Porter. Take your time getting up.” He stepped out of the room without making a sound, closing the door behind him.

After Mrs. Porter left, Jeremy prepared the room for his next client. Replacing the sheets and towels with fresh linen, he smoothed the table with clean hands, and put on a prepared blend of new age sounds.

A quiet knock on the door let him know his next client had arrived. Mrs. Cullens stuck her head around the door and gave a shy smile.

“Are you ready for me?” she asked.

“Ready when you are.” He answered as he took four more deep breaths and wrapped his hand around the edge of the towel cabinet door, pushing it closed. Watching his fingers redden as he pressed, he smiled with gratitude.


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