Jan Week 3: Spa Day with Samantha...: "That lovely face of yours..."

“On that lovely face of yours,” Ethan finally managed, voice thick, words half-slurred with need.

Ethan, sweat-sheened and trembling, could barely keep his eyelids open as he gazed down at Leah beside the table. There was something both carnal and comic about how easily they had shed every pretext of professionalism, how thoroughly the day’s stress had been replaced by a more urgent tension, and now—he was seconds from coming undone. Leah tilted her head in mock consideration, then looked up at him, lashes fluttering.

“You know, I’ve heard that’s fantastic for the complexion.” Her smile was equal parts parody and pornographic invitation.

Ethan grinned, a little mad, a little desperate.

“Swear to god, you’ll be glowing after this,” he said, his bravado only barely masking the way his thighs trembled under the onslaught of her mouth.

Leah’s brain barely registered the implications—the mess, the guilt, the impending need to clean herself up—because all she could focus on was the taste of him, the pulse of power between her lips, the way he was reduced to animal noise and shuddering need. She pressed her thighs together, relishing the way she could feel her own slickness pooling between her legs, the ache in her pussy almost unbearable.

She let her lips slip free, stroking his shaft sensually as she moved beside the massage table and down on her knees. Ethan quickly moved to stand in front of her. Leah began bobbing her head on his cock as she knew he was close and wanted to keep him there. She took her mouth off his cock and began stroking quickly, looking up at him in anticipation.

She hadn't needed to do that very long.

“I’m gonna cum!” he blurted out in pleasure as he moved his hand to his cock and began to stroke himself toward Leah’s face. Leah had her mouth open, just in case. He stroked himself and the first thick explosion erupted and nearly went up Leah’s nose. Part of its thick rope flew errantly on the spa floor. His second rope gave the tip of her nose and upper lip a display of warm manly face cream. He continued to stroke himself on her face, smearing it partly on her cheek.

She gave the shaft a final squeeze, coaxing out every last drop, then licked a dollop from her upper lip, eyes locked on Ethan’s. He looked like he might faint, or cry, or maybe propose to her on the spot. He had never done that to a woman—nonetheless a client. For a long moment, Leah simply admired the absurdity—the mess clinging to her chin, the cum warming her cheek, the way Ethan’s cock still twitched in aftershock.

“Fuck,” he whispered, voice cracked. “That was…” Ethan finally breathed as if he were dazed with exhaustion and awe.

She could feel it: the utter, blasphemous power she held over him, and the way it made her own body thrum with need. She wanted to crawl onto the table and straddle him, to fuck him until they both forgot the world outside this room. Instead, she sat back on her heels, drawing a finger down her cheek to collect a milky pearl.

“Better than a deep tissue?” she teased, wiping another streak off her chin not caring how depraved she must look. She folded her arms beneath her breasts, the motion inadvertently lifting them just enough to draw Ethan’s gaze. He tried to laugh, but it came out as a strangled, post-orgasmic whimper.

Ethan could only nod, still catching his breath.

“Holy shit,” he finally managed, the words vibrating in the filtered air. “You’re…fuck, I’m going to remember that for the rest of my life.”

Leah felt an absurd sense of pride, a kind of wicked satisfaction blooming in her chest.

She stood, giving Ethan a moment to compose himself. His eyes tracked her as she moved around the table, every muscle in his body still trembling with aftershocks. Leah took a small towel from the supply cart and dabbed her face, then turned back to face him, one eyebrow raised as she heard him

“I guess you may want to shower huh?” he said as he busied himself looking for his uniform.

“I probably should, I suppose,” Leah said in a haze of pleasure.

“You know if you ever want my card I could do house visits.” he said with a smile as he pulled his pants up and then started working on putting on his top.

“Thanks,” she said, giving him a smile that said ‘it was just a one-time thing handsome’ and grabbed a nearby towel and headed towards the shower portion of the spa room. “Maybe if I come back, I will request you.”

He nodded.

“Any time.” he moved toward the door, understandable but also hopeful that she would return for another fun row. “This concludes our session. Feel free to use the facilities and return to the lobby whenever you are ready.” He said it as if he had just performed any other massage for any other customer. Then he gave her a playful wink and left the room for her to shower and get dressed.

Leah showered and toweled off, surprised at how steady her hands were. Her whole body tingled, a deep, viscous hum running beneath every inch of skin.

She dressed slowly, basking in the afterglow. There was a sticky ache between her legs, a soreness in her thighs and shoulders, but she wore it like a secret medal. Her hair was a mess, her skin flushed, her eyes bright and a little wild. She checked her phone: no missed calls, one text from Samantha—“Drinks in the lobby when you’re done!”—and a spammed group chat about bridesmaids’ shoes. There was a moment, as she zipped up her jacket, where guilt wanted to tap her on the shoulder, but she ignored it. She wasn’t going to let anything mar the gorgeous, illicit power she felt right now.

She emerged into the lounge area, where Samantha already waited at the bar, swirling a martini and talking with two other women in robes. The three of them looked up as Leah approached. Samantha’s gaze settled on her for a half-second too long, brow arching in that all-knowing, you little minx way she’d perfected since freshman year. Leah couldn’t quite meet her eye, but Sam didn’t press.

“Holy shit, you’re glowing,” Samantha said, sliding Leah a fresh mimosa. “He must have done a real number on you.”

“He…he really did.” she said with a chuckle.

“Get a happy ending?” Samantha winked and nudged Leah in jest and they both chuckled.

“Ha ha very funny.” Leah said-her voice edged with something that Samantha couldn’t quite place. “Thank you so much for getting me to come out to do this today. I think I really needed it.”

“Of course! We should do it more often, honestly. You need it as a teacher more than most of us.” Samantha took a long swig of her drink as if just thinking about being a public teacher made her need the spirits swirling in her glass.

Leah and Samantha finished off their drinks and then parted ways. Leah headed back home to Jonathan. While Leah was able to have her fun and even shower behind closed doors—maybe there was just something about the way she would be acting that evening that would belie a sense of shame. Maybe it was just a sense or tensions she was giving off as she drove home, she knew that the shower at the spa couldn’t wipe away the act she had done—even if the soap had smelled like rainfall and eucalyptus mist…