The massage

Maya and Jesse came for dinner and we ate it together as was our custom. After the meal we made some small talk and they left, which was convenient for me since my ‘date’ was coming soon. Tom came in dressed in the same pair of shorts and tight shirt, he was empty handed since I had a massage table and all the lotions in the world. I also wore the same summer dress over the thong bikini.

“Ready to work your magic, Tom?”

“Sure. Please take off your dress and lay on your belly on the table.”

It was nothing unusual to be told by the masseur to take off one’s clothes, but in the current circumstances it turned me on, albeit only slightly. I turned my back to Tom and slowly removed the dress; I was not performing a striptease but I gave him a good chance to appreciate my motions. He would soon have the opportunity to appreciate my body in a more physical manner. I laid flat on the table and said:

“Could you, please, undo the straps of my top?”

“Of course, missus Eve.”

There I was again, lying in nothing by a thong bikini bottom next to a young handsome stud who was about to touch my body. Massage! He was about to give me a massage; that is something entirely different.

Tom poured the lotion onto my back and began his work. To my relief, and to some point disappointment at the same time, it was an actual honest massage. His hands were strong and firm but professional, his skill might not have been top notch yet, but it was enough to relax my muscles. Tom was methodical and worked without rush; he massaged my neck, upper body, shoulders and then the rest of my back. His firm touch was pleasant but it did not evoke the dirty thoughts that had plagued my mind before. I got the feeling that he was not even ogling my body with lust like he did before.

Tom’s hand ultimately abandoned my back, I was left in a state of comfort and relaxation; that was the best praise for his job. But the massage was not over, Tom moved to my feet. Without saying a word he once again applied the lotion and began to work his strong talented fingers. It was still a professional approach, but for me personally it felt different this time. There was some truth in the dialogue between Julius and Vincent, foot massage was not just any massage, even if both participating parties pretended otherwise. While my feet were being taken care of and my whole body relaxed even further, the internal mental pressure of arousal began to build up. At the same time I once again became aware of Tom’s gaze. I was lying on my belly and my legs were slightly apart, the young man was standing at my feet and without a doubt looking at my booty covered with just a skimpy thong. The risk of him spotting something more was high.

Minutes went by and my arousal grew slowly but steadily, luckily for me I had not gotten wet yet. Fortunately for my decency Tom eventually finished the foot massage and moved to my calves. This body part was not mentally erogenous and just like my back needed some additional care to relax. The young man was as methodical with my calves as he had been with other parts of my body, but I could feel his arousal growing. Staring at my oily body (and touching it) could not go without any effect on an eighteen year old. Something in his touch changed albeit only slightly and I could still sense his gaze on my curves.

Calves are tricky muscles and need a lot of attention, but eventually Tom was done with them and he proceeded to my thighs. It was there that his professional approach began to evaporate, he still massaged my body but with each passing moment it turned more into lustful groping. That was the moment that I should have intervened, but I did not. My own arousal was once again growing and I truly enjoyed the attention my body was getting from this young stud. He was less than half my age and he still found me attractive. His gaze was switching between my thighs and buttocks as his palms groped the former. He was doing me a favour with the massage, it was only fair if I allowed him to have some fun as well, right?

Within a few minutes the illusion of a massage was over, Tom’s palms were freely roaming over my thighs and buttocks, groping my soft flesh. His hands were clearly enjoying my full round booty, just like his eyes did earlier. Among the chaos of my arousal few thoughts appeared: was Tom still a virgin? How far has he gone with a girl before? Has any girl allowed him to act so freely? Was the lack of such experience an additional source of his enthusiasm?

Tom was still somewhat pretending to be giving me a massage, but the only person he was trying to fool was himself. It was nothing but a possessive groping, something that a man who had not been with a woman for a long time would do to a prostitute (after they had had sex obviously). It was not aimed for my pleasure, but I derived it from the touching nevertheless.

Mhmm… once again I barely managed to suppress a moan, only then I realised that I had gotten wet, Tom’s attention had turned me on so much. Did he see that? Or was he so focused on my skin elsewhere? Or maybe he had never seen a wet clitoris and could not recognize one even if it was covered merely by a thong? I knew I should stop that but the pleasure… mhmmm! This time the moan was for real and Tom heard it, he moved his hands away, but remained silent. Eventually after few long moments he spoke:

“T-that is all, m-missus Eve. I should be going now.”

I rose from the bed only slightly and responded:

“Thank you, Tom,” I tried to sound composed and did a better job than the young man, “I’m really grateful, I feel very relaxed, my muscles indeed needed that massage.”

I was trying to look at his face, but he was just staring into the room, so my eyes ventured elsewhere. I glanced at his tight shorts and noticed his erection. Tom was not only hard, but there was already a stain on the front of his shorts; just like me he had gotten wet! But he was also HUGE! My husband was really well endowed, so I was experienced with large penises, but Tom seemed to be bigger even than him.

I once again looked him into the eye and for a second our gazes met. The young man was unable to hide his lust.

“Goodbye, missus Eve,” he just mumbled and left, his walk a bit awkward.

“Goodbye, Tom. Thank you again!”

As he left I allowed myself a loud exhale which sounded somewhat like a moan. What in the hell just happened? How should I react? I needed to talk with Tom, but we both had to calm down first.