by Reed James
Simone's eyes lit up as they fell on me, then she turned to the woman in the charcoal pantsuit. “Take care, darling,” Simone purred in a delightful, French lilt. “You'll be back next week?”
The business woman nodded, a flushed smile on her face. “I wouldn't miss it. Your futa massages are the only thing keeping me relaxed!”
Simone kissed the business woman on both her cheeks, gave one, last lingering glance at me, then disappeared back into the room.
“Hi, Linda,” the business woman smiled, then gave a curious glance at me.
“It's Melody's first time!” Linda beamed back.
“Oh! I remember my first time.” She reached out and squeezed my arm. Her blue eyes were full of excited heat. “You'll love it.”
“Thanks,” I said, feeling a little uncomfortable. Something was off about this place. But Jennifer had recommended it. She wouldn't steer me wrong. “I'm sure I will!”
“We're in seven!” Linda exclaimed, almost bouncing down the hallway to the next door. “I have everything ready for you. This will be so much fun!”
She opened the door and ushered me in with a flourish of her arms. “After you, mademoiselle.”
“Merci,” I answered, exhausting my French, and stepped through the door.
The room wasn't terribly large. In fact, it was cozy. A counter with a sink set against one wall, with scented candles burning cheerfully away upon it, filling the air with a spicy, cinnamon scent. The room was dim, and the flickering candles gave it a very intimate feel. A massage table dominated the center of the room, long, with a cut-out on the flat headrest. I frowned, and it took me a moment to realize you were supposed to stick your face through the hole when lying face down.
Linda took a deep breath. “Don't you just love cinnamon?” she asked as her hands unknotted the ties of her robe.
I blinked; what the hell was she doing?
The silk slid slowly off her tan figure, falling in a pool of blue around her ankles. She was lovely, with not an ounce of fat anywhere on her tan body. My cheeks crimsoned, and my eyes shot up to look at the ceiling.
“It's my favorite scent in the world,” she continued. I risked a look; she was bending over to pick up her robe, and her naked butt pointed straight at me. No tan lines or cellulite. I looked back up. “It just relaxes all my stress away.”
I tried to speak, only a strangled gasp came out.
“Are you okay, Melody?” she asked, hanging her robe from a coat rack and turning to face me; her bare breasts jiggled at the bottom of my vision.
“Y-you're naked!”
“Uh-huh.”
What was wrong with her? Was she some sort of nudist? “Isn't it inappropriate?”
She giggled and grabbed the left sleeve of my blazer, pulling it down my arms. “We always massage in the nude. That's how it's done.”
“Oh.” I felt foolish, then annoyance irked me.
“The oil stains, you see.”
Reasonable. “Right. So, I guess I have to be naked as well?” No different than the gym locker room. Only a gym locker room wasn't candlelit.
“Yep.” She hung my blazer next to her robe. “I'll undress you.”
“What?” I protested. “I can undress myself.”
“Oh, okay,” she said, sounding hurt like a wounded rabbit, her shoulders wilting like a dying flower.
Darn it! “Fine,” I sighed.
She clapped her hands together, jumping up and down, her breasts jiggling; they were quite beautiful. “This'll be fun. Just think of me as your handmaiden. Powerful women deserve to be pampered like a queen!”
I smiled at that. I did deserve to be pampered after the hell my life had become.
Her fingers skillfully worked the small, white buttons on my cream, silk blouse. She seemed quite skilled, and in no time my blouse hung open, exposing my gray, satin bra.
“Oh, that's cute,” she giggled, carefully folding my blouse and setting it in a small, plastic tray on the counter. “Where'd you get your bra?”
“Nordstroms.”
Her fingers touched my back; I flinched a bit. She deftly unhooked my bra. After a long day at the office if felt wonderful to free my breasts—I had yet to find a bra that stayed comfortable for an entire workday. Linda pulled my bra off my arms and added it to the bin. I wanted to cover my breasts, but I resisted the impulse; we were both women.
“I've never shopped there,” Linda admitted, dropping to her knees before me with a smooth, practiced grace.
“They have the best sales!” I exclaimed.
She grabbed my right foot, lifting it up and slipping off my black pump. “I'll give it a try,” Linda promised
“You won't be disappointed!” I exclaimed as she slipped off my other pump.
She smiled, “I rarely am.” The heat in her voice sent a shiver through me.
Linda tugged my pants down my hips, and a second tingle of excitement passed through me, almost a sexual thrill. My nipples hardened, and heat flushed my sex. Why? I wasn't gay, so why was I getting turned on?
Then it hit me—no one had gotten in my pants for months. Since I found out about my soon-to-be-ex-husband's affair, I haven't had much of a sex drive, and my work schedule wasn't helping. But this energetic, young woman seemed to be stirring life back into my nethers. My eyes fell on her naked butt—firm and perky and wonderfully tan—as she carried my pants across the room; I quickly looked away as she returned, dropping to her knees again.
“Let's get those pantyhose off!” Linda said with a great deal of enthusiasm.
“Yeah.” My mouth went dry. Get a grip!
Her fingers hooked my pantyhose; a shiver passed through me. She looked up, smiling coquettishly, and slowly rolled them down my hips, the nylon caressing my skin like a lover; desire kindled within me. The nylons slipped across my thighs, past my knees, and down my calves to my feet, tingling the entire way. She gently pulled them off my feet, her fingers stroking my soles; wonderful, shivering electricity spread through me, ending at my aching sex.
My body was on fire. I didn't remember the last time I had been so aroused. Certainly not by my soon-to-be-ex-husband. He had never stoked my fires this hot before.
“What's hiding here?” grinned Linda when she returned from dropping off my pantyhose in the bin. “Is that a tat hiding behind your panties?”
My eyes widened; I had forgotten all about my tattoo. I had received it ten years ago when I was nineteen and drunk, out partying with my sorority. I barely remember the night, but I had a permanent reminder of how stupid I had acted. Someday, I would have it lasered off.
Linda drew down my gray panties and cooed when she saw my tattoo. “So cute!”
She reached out to touch the hummingbird tattoo on my pelvis to the right of my neatly-trimmed, black bush. Her fingers were warm, and I was all too aware of how close she was to my wet pussy.
“Ohh, her little beak is pointed right at your flower, like she's about to drink your nectar!”
“Yeah,” I flushed.
“I have a tat down there, too!” Linda proclaimed, straightening up; I couldn't help noticing the way her tits bounced. “See!”
My eyes traveled down her flat stomach. A bright-blue butterfly was tattooed on her pubic mound—she clearly shaved or waxed all her hair down there—the wings were upswept and her tiny, black legs extended, about to land upon her clitoris—
Oh, my god! Warmth flushed through me.
Her clitoris was as fat as my pinky and stuck out an inch from her labia. I didn't know they could get that big. It was almost like a tiny dick. An image flashed like lightning: Linda, standing before me, breasts quivering, a large shaft jutting out from where her clitoris should be, and a pussy, wet and dripping, beneath her girl-cock.
I tried to force the image out of my mind; it was so naughty.
“Yeah,” I croaked. “It's pretty.”
I wasn't sure if I meant the butterfly or her fat clitoris. Maybe I meant both.
“T
hanks! Now stretch out on the table and let's work those man problems out of your tense muscles.”
“How did you...”
“Know?” She placed her arm around my shoulder. “You've been a ball of stress since you walked in. And that usually means a man. You're newly divorced, right? Or in the middle of one?”
I nodded; my eyes wide in amazement. Could she read minds?
She touched my left, ring finger. “Tan line.”
“Yeah. My husband...” Tears brimmed in my eyes, and all the pain and betrayal came bubbling up. “He cheated on me. I...I thought...we were...love...”
“Ohh, you poor thing.” She cupped my cheeks with both hands, staring right into my eyes. “I'll make you forget all about him.” Her thumbs wiped away my tears, and then she gave me a brief kiss on the lips.
It was a quick, friendly kiss, or it would have been if we hadn't been naked. The desire that my grief had just snuffed out came roaring back, blazing inside me like a stove burner cranked too high. I needed to get laid and just forget all about my asshole soon-to-be-ex-husband. I needed to get fucked by a gorgeous, beautiful woman with a huge cock. The image of Linda returned, and I just couldn't banish it. There was something just so erotic and kinky about a gorgeous lady sporting a dick and a pussy.
“Go lie face down on the table and let me soothe away all your problems, Melody.”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. I wanted to grab her shoulders and jab my tongue deep into her mouth, to feel her breasts pressing against mine and her girl-cock hard against my belly. Get a grip! She doesn't even have a cock.
I glanced to be sure. Did her clit seem a little bigger? I shook my head, then practically threw myself on the table, not trusting my desires right now. I settled my face into the padded cutout in the table, breathing in deeply the cinnamon scent as I tried to calm down.
I could see her bare feet as she walked around the table, tiny toes painted blue. Wheels squeaked as she rolled a small tray over, presumably covered by her supplies. “The oil is a little cold, fair warning.”
Good. My blood's running too hot.
Even warned, it was cold, and I let out a gasp as she poured the fragrant oil—lavender, my favorite—across the backs of my thighs and calves. Her hands were soft, spreading the oil across my legs. Exhilaration sparked through me as her hands rubbed up and down.
Then she kneaded my muscles; I sighed. Her thumbs and fingertips dug into my calves, working the strain right out of my muscles. Her fingers moved in circles, pressing in almost painfully. It was heavenly.
“I like to start with the legs,” Linda explained. “They are the support of your entire body, so anything that goes wrong with them spreads all throughout you.”
“Hmm,” I sighed, savoring those strong fingers working slowly up my calves.
My eyes closed and I let her knead my problems away. She slid past my knee and started on my right thigh. She worked the outside, digging into the muscles.
“Your legs are so smooth and toned,” she cooed. “You work out?”
“Yeah. The building my office is in has a gym on the ground floor.”
“It's paying off! Gorgeous legs!”
“Thanks.” I answered, opening my eyes. I could just see her calves and her blue-painted toenails through the table's cutout. “I love that color.”
“What?”
“Your toenails. Such a cute shade of blue.”
“Oh, thank you. I picked it up at Walmart. Baby-robin blue.”
Her fingers worked my inner thighs, creeping higher and higher. She spread my legs open and I realized my damp pussy must be completely exposed to her gaze. Her hand worked higher and higher, and I was all too aware how close she was drawing to my aching sex. Another few inches higher; how close was she going to get? She must be only an inch from my groin. Any higher and she'd touch my pussy.
And what if she did touch my pussy?
“Don't tense up, Melody,” she admonished. “I'm not going to hurt you.”
Right. It's just a massage.
She moved to my left thigh, her hand just grazing my pussy; pleasure shot through me. So wonderful. “Sorry!” she gasped. “I'm so clumsy.”
“Alright!” I panted. I couldn't believe I almost came from a brief, accidental touch. I took a deep breath. It's only a massage.
But I couldn't calm down. Those wonderful fingers worked my inner thigh, teasing my flesh. She was naked. I was naked. I couldn't seem to make the situation any less erotic as her fingers traveled closer and closer to my sex. I was so wet, and my pussy burned with the memory of her accidental brush. I hoped for a repeat caress, a fleeting glance to set off the fireworks inside me.
Three inches away. My breath quickened.
Two inches away. My heart pounded.
One inch away. My skin tingled.
“All done with your legs,” she said, and that delightful hand brushed my pussy as she moved away. “Oops!”
I shuddered, a small orgasm quaking through me. Little fireworks bursting, teasing the main show.
“You okay?” Linda asked with concern.
“Yeah!” I gasped, trying to sound relaxed. And I was feeling relaxed. That little cum took the edge off my tension. “Everything's just fine, Linda.”
“Good.”
She climbed on the massage table, straddling my lower back. She didn't rest her weight on me, but I could feel her damp mound brushing my hot skin as she shifted around. Why did she climb on?
“I need the leverage,” she explained, answering my question before I could even voice it.
That made sense. Only all I could think about was her wet pussy hovering over my skin, wondering when it would brush my—
Cold oil splashed on my back; I drew in a sharp breath.
“Sorry,” Linda gasped. “Forgot to warn you.”
Then her amazing fingers went to work on my shoulders and neck. It was magical. She was right, I was forgetting about everything but her touch massaging all the cares and woes right out of my life. My soon-to-be-ex-husband could go to hell with that whore secretary of his. I didn't need someone that didn't love me. And work and my boss, Mr. Edwards, could go fuck themselves. Why was I working so many long hours? I didn't have a dream house to buy anymore. I should just go out to a bar tonight, pick up a guy, and get laid.
I didn't want this wonderful, relaxed state to ever end.
“Let him go,” she whispered, working the muscles in my back. “Don't hold onto anything. Let all those bad feelings melt away.”
Her hands worked lower, forcing her to scooch past my butt, her pussy brushing my rear, before she settled on my upper thighs. Her thumbs kneaded my lower back and sides, melting more stress away.
“Doesn't that feel amazing. It's all disappearing, leaving you fully relaxed.”
Her hands reached my butt-cheeks, working into my firm glutes. It didn't seem wrong at all that she touched such an intimate spot. How could anything that felt that wonderful be wrong?
“Lovely,” I muttered, completely relaxed.
Her fingers worked into my crack, dipping in as she worked my butt hard, undoing all the knots stressed had left.
“Such a wonderfully cute rear,” Linda purred.
“Uh-huh,” I sighed.
Her fingers dipped deeper and something long and round prodded my butt. Not anything she held, but a cylinder of some sort. The massage oil bottle? Or maybe a personal massager. They used those, right? A little deep muscle vibration to work all the stress out of someone.
“I could just eat your ass up,” Linda cooed, her voice full of heat. Her fingers reached deeper into my crack, almost to my anus. “So delectable.”
Her fingers brushed my anus. I sighed as they teased me. This was wrong, but it felt so wonderful; I didn't care. Linda shifted, the cylinder rubbing across my butt. There was something so familiar about it, like I had felt something similar brush my—
I gasped.
She penetrated my rear with one finger,
wiggling it deep inside me. The sensation was strange and wonderful all at the same time. She drew her finger back up and worked it in again. “That's it. Relax, Melody. Don't worry about anything. Just enjoy.”
I did, letting her violate me. Such amazing sensations gathered in my core, growing every time her finger plunged in and pulled out. I had never had anal sex before, and I was beginning to regret telling all those men no.
“You're fully relaxed now,” Linda purred. “I can feel it.”
I sighed; her finger pumped easily inside me now. My blood boiled, and pleasure grew in my core, building to something wonderful. I shuddered, gasping, getting so close. Then she withdrew her finger; I moaned in disappointment.
“Lift your butt, Melody.”
She rose up on her thighs, and I raised my hips, and she slipped a round bolster beneath my stomach, keeping my ass raised up. Why did she do that? I had never had a massage before, but the reason escaped me.
I flushed, and couldn't help but realize that my pussy must be on display at this angle, peeking between my thighs, wet and flushed and—
Something round and thick penetrated my sex, sliding slowly deeper and deeper.
“Oh, yeah,” moaned Linda.
The object kept sinking into me, filling me up, and then I felt Linda's groin pressing against my rear like she was fucking me. She drew back and then slammed it into me again. She was fucking me. How? She must have slipped on a strap-on dildo when I wasn't looking.
I should have been pissed, but I loved it! I needed to get laid! Even by a lesbian with a fake cock.
“Fuck me!” I growled, pretending it was a real cock, remembering the flash of imagination I had. “Fuck me with your girl-cock!”
“That's why you're here,” panted Linda.
“What?” I asked. It was so hard to think as she fucked me with the strap-on.
“To be fucked by a futanari,” Linda purred. “Oh, you are so tight!”