by Alice Gaines
“I’d never felt anything so wonderful in my life.”
“Tell me about it.”
Most of his clients didn’t express interest in his personal life, but occasionally one would. Most of the guys had a rule that clients could ask anything, but they’d answer only what they wanted. The story of how he’d lost his virginity was safe enough and rather funny, when you got right down to it. He might as well share.
“Mary Ellen Rorhardt,” he said. “She was a year ahead of me in school.”
“Ah, a cougar.”
“Most definitely.” He moved to her other buttock, this time taking more notice that the lips of her pussy lay only inches from his fingers. He could easily stroke them to see what she’d do. Would her engine rev up into high gear again? Would moisture seep out onto his fingers? If that happened, he’d become erect as he’d been before. Already his cock was thickening. It wouldn’t require much more to start tenting his robe.
“. . . did she do?” Angela was saying.
“I’m sorry.”
“Mary Ellen Thorndike—”
“Rorhardt.”
“Mary Ellen,” she said. “How did she seduce you?”
“Her parents used to leave her home alone a lot. She asked me over to help her with math.”
Angela twisted and glanced up at him again. “I thought you weren’t any good at math.”
He swatted her bottom. “What did I tell you?”
“Sorry.” She turned her face back into the hole.
“Inviting me over had nothing to do with studying.” Before she could think up any more questions, he gave in to temptation and slid a finger between her pussy lips. In response, she stiffened, but as he stroked her, gliding along the seam between them, she relaxed again. And sure enough, she dampened. Just this contact could elevate her temperature a bit.
“You were saying,” she said. Her voice had turned breathy.
“Turned out Mary Ellen wasn’t so much interested in math as she was in anatomy. Before I knew what was going on, she’d put her hand on my thigh. I thought that was kind of strange, but when she reached over to my fly, it felt so fucking good I didn’t complain.”
“You must have touched yourself before that,” she said.
“Plenty of times, but having someone else do it took the enjoyment to a new level.” He left her pussy and moved to her thigh. This was supposed to be a massage, right? She might have whimpered at the loss of his fingers, especially when the story about Mary Ellen was starting to get interesting. Whatever sound she’d made, it ended too quickly for him to tell for sure if she felt disappointed.
“In a flash, I had a woody that wasn’t going away,” he said. “And the figures on the paper in front of me made even less sense than usual. We were pretending to study trig at the time, and in a minute, the curves had me thinking about Mary Ellen’s breasts.”
“Were they big?”
“A lot more than a handful.” He switched to Angela’s other thigh and gave it a methodical rubdown. “The attention they got at school probably explained why she’d had experience with sex.”
“And so from there . . .” she prompted.
“She said she wanted to look at me, and it was fine if I wanted to see her naked, too.” Most of the rest of the encounter had faded into a blur of lust, but he’d make up a few details to satisfy Angela, seeing as she appeared so interested. Finished with her thighs, he moved on to her calves. Muscular and supple. She probably ran. “So we got naked, and the next thing I knew she was all over me. She even put her mouth on my cock. I hadn’t thought it possible for the human body to feel so much pleasure.”
Finally, Angela’s feet. He massaged the arches and pulled gently on her toes. Next would come the interesting part. “Turn over.”
“You’re going to do my front?”
“It isn’t a complete massage if I don’t.”
Twisting, she rolled over without falling off the table. Again, he took some of the oil and spread it between his palms. She lay, watching him out of eyes like emeralds, and stretched her arms out above her head. The action accentuated her breasts, showing off the stiff nipples. With only the light from the candles, they appeared a dusty rose color. He’d have to get a better look later to determine their exact hue, and he would. He’d memorize that and every other aspect of her luscious body he had yet to study. He could happily spend hours learning every inch of her, and still she’d have more delights and surprises for him. Women were amazing that way, and she was one of the most fascinating who’d ever walked through the doors at Club Ecstasy.
For now, he went to her shoulders again. This time, he slid his fingers beneath her neck and cradled the base of her skull in his hands. He massaged there as her head lolled to one side and then the other. The smile on her face told him he’d gotten that part right.
“I want you to remember to stay in the here and now,” he said. “Don’t worry about climaxing.”
“From a neck massage?” she said. “Not likely.”
“I might do other things.” Like suck one of those tempting nipples into his mouth. Or both of them, one at a time. And, of course, there were even more interesting parts at the juncture of her thighs. Sweet pussy lips he could stroke until they opened like a flower for him, exposing the most sensitive part of her body. That little organ was so full of nerve endings that he could make her cry out to her creator and then weep for joy.
He wouldn’t make her come that way, at least not right now. No, he’d get her so hot and bothered she wouldn’t know her own name, let alone worry about whether she could have “the right kind” of orgasm. But if he was going to do all of that before his cock fully recovered and turned his own brain off, he’d better get to it because, honestly, touching her like this was a major turn-on.
After digging his fingertips into the muscles of the front of her shoulders long enough to make them soft and pliable, he ran his palms down her sides, stroking her ribs. For her breasts, he’d need extra oil, so he poured more into his hands. Even in the dim light, her flesh glistened as he took one breast and massaged it. It wasn’t the least bit tense, of course, but that didn’t make his work any less important. Or fun.
With each pass of his hands over her breast, he gave the nipple a little tug. Already stiff, it hardened into a tight peak, and her breathing became shallow and rapid, pushing her flesh up into his palms. Nice. He moved to the other breast and gave it the same tender attentions, working the nipple until she tipped her head back and parted her lips to drag in air.
She could be an utterly carnal creature if she let herself. With the pressure to climax off, she’d relaxed into the moment and took what he offered. She’d want more, and he’d give it to her. But for right now, they’d go slowly, taking each step as it came.
And, man, could he come. In fact, he’d need to control his rising excitement. He probably responded so strongly to her because of the challenge she offered. A sensuous woman, with so much potential to give and receive pleasure, who hadn’t come into her own sexuality. And he had the privilege to develop her promise—to watch her blossom and then enjoy the results. He sure as hell didn’t have to worry about any hang-ups keeping him from the full expression of his lust.
Speaking of which, he hadn’t completely taken care of her nipples, so while he continued stimulating one with his fingers, he bent and closed his lips around the other. Her breath caught, and then she let it out with a sigh. She tasted like the oil—citrus, like a lemon drop. As he alternately sucked and circled the peak with his tongue, her fingers found their way into his hair. They stayed there when he went to the other breast. Every bit as delicious as the first.
While he had her attention focused elsewhere, he slid a hand over her belly toward the ultimate destination. When he cupped her mound, she gasped and then sighed. The hairs were already wet. She’d started without him.
“Is that part of the package?” she said.
“A full-body massage is just that—full.”
“Are you going to finish the story of Mary Ellen?”
“Later,” he said. “Do you really want to spend this time talking?”
“I guess not.”
“Good.” He parted the lips and stroked the inner sides, first one and then the other. For the time being, he’d avoid her clitoris. He wasn’t going to make her climax with his finger again. It hadn’t satisfied her before, and there was no point repeating something she’d looked on as a failure. No, he’d let the tension build and build until she couldn’t stand it anymore, and she would have to give in to her body’s demands and shut that powerful brain down.
He continued with his leisurely caresses until her hips began to move. As she became aroused, she was clearly seeking more contact with his fingers. He’d give her that, but not the way she’d planned. Instead of stroking her clit, he slid a finger inside her. Her muscles closed around him immediately, and she sucked in a breath between her teeth.
“Good?” he said.
“More.”
Oh yeah. She was heating up for sure, and her need acted as fuel for his own. As he inserted another finger inside her, his imagination went into overdrive—how he could take his throbbing cock into his hand, position the head at her pussy, and ease it into her wet heat. The walls of her sex would grip him the way they now gripped his fingers. Fucking her in his mind was almost as good as the real thing, and he needed to keep his wits about him, at least for the next ten minutes. So he wrapped his free hand around the base of his hard-on and squeezed, doing his best to strangle it into submission.
The action only drew her attention to his state, and even though he still pumped two of his fingers into her, her hand landed on the head of his cock. She squeezed gently and then ran her thumb over the dimple at the end.
Soon the two of them were playing with each other, pushing toward orgasm. He wasn’t going to do it without her again, no matter what, so he changed his mind about hitting her hottest spot. He pulled his fingers out of her pussy and used them to spread her own moisture over her clit.
“Oh, God!” she cried as her body shivered. Damn it all, she’d climax again if he kept doing this. Exactly the way he’d wanted her not to. At least she’d stopped playing with his cock, although she still gripped it in her fist. He’d have to think of something else—fast—or they’d end up back at square one.
He removed her hand from his erection. “Massage over.”
“What?” She opened her eyes. “You’re stopping.”
“Yeah, well, I kind of finished.”
“You’d make me feel like this and then stop?” If stares could shoot lasers, hers would have bored two holes into his brain. He’d aroused her, and he’d have to give her an orgasm. He’d only have to figure out how to make it good enough to fit whatever insane criteria she had for success.
“New exercise,” he said.
Her chest labored with her breathing, the breasts rising and falling like crazy. “What?”
“A bath.” Good idea. The sunken tub. They could have all kinds of fun there, while he thought up a way to really blow her mind. “And bear in mind, there’s no trying for an orgasm. We wouldn’t want you to have the wrong kind.”
Chapter Three
ANGELA WAS GOING to kill him with her bare hands. As soon as she got herself under control enough to follow him into the bathroom. Another minute or two, a few dozen deep breaths, and she might find enough strength in her legs to try climbing off the massage table. Then she’d go in there and verbally chew him up one side and down the other. How could he get her so excited and then walk away?
For the love of God, she’d been close to coming. Okay, he’d done it the same way he had before, and she’d told him in no uncertain terms that was the wrong way. And maybe it was the wrong way. After all, she could accomplish the same thing with her vibrator.
Well, not exactly the same thing. Her vibrator couldn’t melt all the tension from her muscles or rub scented oil into her skin with a touch gentle enough to soothe and firm enough to create delicious friction everywhere. Her breasts had never felt this way before. Swollen and achy and so completely feminine. An odd way of thinking of them. How could they be anything but feminine? Still she’d never thought of them like that before. Was she going to turn into one of those women who gave her boobs names? Please.
All that had felt fine, and you could call it a massage, more or less. Until he’d touched her pussy. He’d known what he was doing. He had to. Sex was his profession. Then he’d brought her to the brink and stopped. As he would say, fuck that.
She tried her legs and discovered that they did work. The ache in her pussy had abated, although her clitoris still throbbed. She walked uncertainly to the bathroom and looked inside. The huge sunken tub had been half-filled with water. She’d registered the gushing sound through the fog of lust in her brain. Brent sat in the tub with a net sponge in one hand and a bar of soap in the other.
“Ready for our next experiment?” he asked.
“How the hell could you leave me like that?”
He didn’t answer but merely quirked an eyebrow.
“Don’t act innocent,” she said. “You know what I mean.”
“I didn’t want you to have another inferior orgasm,” he said.
“I didn’t say . . .” She sputtered a bit. He was trying to shift the blame onto her when it clearly rested on his shoulders. Or with those talented fingers of his. “I didn’t mean to suggest that other orgasm wasn’t perfectly fine.”
“Ah, but you stated that as fact. Very specifically and clearly. That’s why I stopped before you came.”
She stared at him, trying to make sense of that last declaration. “So I wouldn’t climax the wrong way?”
“Exactly,” he said.
No, there was no sense to be had here. Just irritation and more irritation. “Then what was the point of getting me excited?”
“I like the noises you make?” He said it as a question, telegraphing his attitude. He was toying with her. Who was this idiot, anyway? Why had she chosen him out of all the men available here?
Just then he rose out of the water and sat on the edge of the tub, and the prime reason for giving him the benefit of the doubt became apparent. He was aroused: his thick cock stood straight out from his torso. Most likely the other men here had the same impressive dimensions, and most likely they could become erect nearly at will. But this one had created a hunger in her, especially in her sex. She’d felt all that hardness moving inside her, and she could have that again. Besides, maybe she could do something to wipe that smirk from his face. Yes, indeed, she could.
“Let’s see if you make funny noises, too.” She climbed into the tub and sidled over to him. Wrapping her fingers around his shaft, she smiled up at him. “Mind if I play with this for a while?”
“Be my guest.” He was still smirking. They’d see about that.
He was truly magnificent, not just large but nicely proportioned, including the ridge that circled the head. Where to begin? She took him between her palms and petted his length. As she did, he watched, the smile never leaving his face. But his eyes took on the hazy look of a man becoming highly excited.
“You look absolutely delicious,” she said.
“Do I?”
“Oh my, yes.” She ran her tongue around the head of his cock and flicked it over the pucker. She’d imagined him tasting like honey before, but now she got more of a citrus tang. Probably from the oil he’d used to massage her. It still coated much of her body and filled the air around them with its perfume.
Craving more, she closed her lips around him and sucked on him like a lollipop. Just the head filled most of her mouth, and she slid her lips lower, taking as much as she could.
He groaned. The first noise. She’d have more.
She lifted her head, releasing him. “Feeling good?”
“Oh, man.” He pulled in a breath and groaned again. “You know how to do that.”
Although she ha
dn’t had any complaints, she’d never considered herself an expert at giving head. A compliment from a professional gave her a warm feeling inside. Feminine pride. So she continued, swallowing as much of his cock as she could while stroking the rest with her fingers.
His harsh breathing bounced off the tiles, filling her ears with proof of his need for her. Bobbing her head, she set a steady rhythm. His fingers brushed her cheek, pushing her hair back from her face. She took a moment to glance up at him and discovered him staring back out of half-closed eyes, watching as she loved his cock with her mouth. She was giving him his own personal erotic movie, and his flesh had turned the livid color of a man about to lose control. A taste of salt testified to how close he’d come to orgasm. Totally amazing.
Very carefully, she feathered the fingers of one hand over his sac and found the sensitive skin just behind as she took the head of his cock between her lips.
“Holy shit,” he said. That was a pretty nice noise, too.
“Should I finish you?”
“That wouldn’t do you any good, would it?”
He had a point. While she’d enjoy watching him climax, taking a ride on him would feel so much better. “Got a condom?”
“They’re everywhere.” He reached to a basket of soaps and sponges and retrieved a square packet.
She took it from him, tore it open, and rolled the condom over his erection. It didn’t go all the way to the base, but then it didn’t need to. With a lazy smile, Brent slid into the water. When he reached for her, she went to him and grasped his cock. Nearly weightless, she floated down onto him, taking him inside her one rock-hard inch at a time. Finally she settled against him, having enveloped him completely.
For long seconds, they stayed that way, staring into each other’s eyes. The warm brown of his eyes seemed so deep she could fall into it. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and leaned in for a kiss. Sweet, almost innocent, in contrast to the presence of his cock in her pussy.
Squeezing, she tightened her inner muscles around him. Right on cue, he groaned again and thrust up into her. “You’re going to make me lose it.”