Tanning Salon CFNM

The sun was intense and the air buzzed with warmth when I opened the tanning salon at seven o’clock this morning, an early summer day that promised few customers.

I didn’t mind; I was out late last night, sipping margaritas with a few friends at the La Mexa Restaurant bar. The drinks went down a little too easy while we teased the bartender and flirted with the guys playing pool, and my hangover was no surprise.

The cheap tequila and recently turning 21 probably didn’t help, either.

Somehow I managed to unlock the front door, turn on the OPEN sign, flick on the lights, and pick up a movie magazine from the lobby, all without spilling my mocha. I made my way to the reception desk, thinking it might be an okay day – until I caught the edge of the desk with my little toe.

“Damn!”

No need for that coffee - I was awake now!

Cursing, I limped to the back bathroom where I slipped off my short-heeled sandal and gingerly placed my foot on the toilet seat. I found a little skin rubbed off the side of my pinky toe and some apple-red nail polish chipped away, but it didn’t look serious.

I had just enough time to check my makeup, tuck a few blonde locks of hair behind my ears, pull my t-shirt over belly piercing, and smooth my jeans over my ass before the first customer walked in.

"Hi, Sara."

I returned to the lobby, still holding my sandal, and was greeted by a middle-aged brunette standing by the desk. She’s a frequent customer, but I can never remember her name - Jane or Joan or something. She usually stops in before she goes to work.

"Morning!" I said, sounding more cheerful than I felt. I sat down behind my desk and tapped the space bar on my computer. "What's your number?"

"9-0-3-8. Can I get 20 minutes?"

"No problem, Jamie," I said, reading her name from the computer monitor. I punched her time into the control panel on the wall. "You'll be in room four."

"Thanks!"

Jamie disappeared down the dim hall, and after I heard her door snick closed I started thumbing through my magazine. I couldn’t really concentrate, though, because the slight throbbing in my toe matched a mild throbbing in my head. I put my foot up on the edge of my desk and gently massaged it, working my thumbs from the top to the toes, then back down the arch, and this seemed to help.

The doorbell dinged and I glanced up as another customer walked in. It was Jim, an older guy, tall and lean - cute, but a gold band on his finger. He worked the night shift and tanned after work. He always smiled and appeared to be in a good mood, which I didn’t understand considering the hours he worked.

“Hey, Sara. How’s it goin’?”

“Oh, not bad. You?”

“Can’t complain.” He saw me rubbing my foot. “What’s up?”

“Mm, stubbed my toe,” I said, somewhat embarrassed.

Jim winced. “Ouch! That’s a nice toe, too. Hold on a second.” He went over to the soda machine in the corner, popped in some change, and came back with a can.

“Put this on it,” he said, offering me the soda.

I looked up at him through my bangs. “You sure? I’ll pay you for it.”

“Nah. Don’t worry about it,” he said. “If you don’t drink it I’ll take it with me.” I took the soda and thanked him, then punched up his usual time for his usual bed.

“Got me memorized, huh?” Jim joked, grabbing an extra towel from the rack and walking down the hall.

After he left, I nursed my toe with the icy can. While rolling its soothing coolness over my toe and thinking how thoughtful Jim was, I noticed that the way I was sitting allowed him to see right down thev-neck of my shirt. I wasn’t in the mood to put my bra on this morning and he must’ve had a superb view of my C-cup sized tits.

Well, it was too late to do anything about it, and I didn’t care. Jim was cool. Besides, I was still feeling a little horny from the night before. In fact, after teasing that bartender last night and crawling into bed alone, I wished I’d done more than tease. The guy had a great sense of humor, and if I crossed my long, tan legs the right way, and sucked on my straw just so, I could cause a bulging hard-on in his khakis.

Eventually, the dull pain in my toe disappeared and I pulled my foot off the desk. I soon heard Jamie’s bed click off, and a few minutes later the scent of her tanning lotion filled the room as she passed me and said goodbye.

So now it was just me, my magazine, my much-improved toe, and the hum of Jim’s tanning bed. I unbuckled my other sandal and took it off to get more comfortable, and then flipped through the magazine, reading the movie reviews but skimming the articles.

Before long Jim’s bed clicked off and the salon was quiet. It usually takes a couple minutes for customers to get dressed, so I decided to clean the bed Jamie used and then get Jim’s when he left. I grabbed the sterilizing solution and a fresh towel and went to room four.

While spraying and wiping, I listened for any sound from room five, which is where Jim was tanning. I didn’t hear anything, and by the time I finished cleaning bed four I began to think Jim fell asleep – something that happens to people all the time, even if they don’t work the night shift.

I stepped into the hall and stood in front of the louver door to Jim’s room and put my ear near the slats, but I didn’t hear anything. I looked through the slats, but all I saw was the carpet directly in front of the door.

“Jim?”

Figuring he was asleep, I knocked lightly. No answer. Did he leave while I was cleaning? I could’ve missed him, but he usually says goodbye. I assumed he’d do it today. I grasped the doorknob and it turned in my hand, so it wasn’t locked.

Slowly, I pulled the door open and peeked through the crack. The bed was empty. I cracked the door a little bit more and looked to my left. That’s where I saw him, naked, his back against the wall, stroking away at his cock.

Now, I’ve seen a boyfriend or two jacking off, but never a stranger. And Jim was really into it: His knees were slightly bent and his head was tilted up, eyes closed. His long, thick dick arced out, shiny with oil, and his hand made luxurious twisting motions as it slicked up and down his shaft.

At this point I didn’t know what to do. I could’ve closed the door and snuck away, but my eyes were glued to what I was seeing. My mind raced between staying and going as this tan, tall man masturbated himself right in my line of sight.

A little ashamed and turned on at the same time, I watched Jim pull hard on his glistening cock, the tip of his tongue between his pursed lips as he savored his task. The horniness I felt last night returned, and I imagined putting my own hand on him.

Right then Jim turned his head to his left to check himself in the full-length mirror on the wall and caught me in the reflection, peeking through the door.

It took a moment for his brain to process that I was watching him, and just as long for me to process that he’d noticed.

Startled, all he said was, “Oh shit.”

I felt embarrassed - but I was also embarrassed for him. I opened the door and stepped into his room, reassuring him, “It’s okay, Jim. It’s okay. I thought you were asleep.”

He laughed and said, “Now I wish I was!”

I was laughing, too, which seemed to alleviate our embarrassment. “Don’t worry,” I said. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before!”

Jim tried to cover his hard-on with both hands as he turned toward his clothes, but it wasn’t working very well. His rock-hard erection rose above his hands and showed no sign of going anywhere soon. I watched as he released his cock to pick up his pants.


“Sorry, Sara. I’ll be out of here in a minute.”

The funny thing is I didn’t want him to stop what he was doing, and I felt disappointed that I didn’t get to see him finish. I was leaning on the wall and feeling bad for the guy, but I felt bad for myself, too. I thought, all this embarrassment for nothing? I couldn’t believe what I said next, but I couldn’t stop myself either.

“Want to finish?”

He paused, dumbstruck. “Huh?”

I gathered my remaining courage and quietly asked, “Want to finish?”

Maybe he sensed that this was his last chance before I lost my nerve; maybe it was the flush in my face and my stiff nipples under my t-shirt. Whatever it was, he hesitantly put his back to the wall and grabbed his greased-up cock again.

Standing beside him, I could see the two of us in the mirror and better observe him and his technique. Jim’s neatly circumcised cock was long and slender, curved slightly upward and glistening with the sheen of tanning lotion. The head of his cock looked like a red helmet, and his steely shaft was riven with engorged purple veins.

I could tell that he took care of himself. The muscles of his athletic body stood out and his firm ass was clenched with his efforts. His balls were shaved, too, and all the hair around his crotch was trimmed incredibly short. Before I knew what I was doing, I reached out with my right hand and caressed his balls with my fingertips.

Jim opened his eyes and gazed down at me, as if half-asleep. “Mm, Sara,” he said, his voice tight in his throat, “You are so sweet.”

“Finish,” I whispered.

I’d never done anything like this before, and I felt wonderfully dirty as I swirled my fingers and well-manicured nails around his scrotum. Hypnotized, I watched Jim’s hand squeeze up and around his cock head, causing dollops of pre-cum to form at the tip like drops of dew.

My heart beat faster and I could feel the heat coming off of him. The temperature in the room seemed to rise. How long had it been since I was this turned on? My nipples pushed two pointy peaks out of my shirt, and a warm sensation spread through my pelvis. No longer thinking, I cupped my left palm over my crotch and pressed hard, slowly rubbing up and down.

Jim watched and moaned softly. We were both getting into it, feeding off the sight of each other. Our eyes roamed over one another, feasting on the rawness of our mutual self-satisfaction.

Unable to get enough sensation on my clitoris, I slipped my hand beneath my thong panties. I dipped my index and middle fingers between my lips for lubrication, and then slid them up to my clit. It was hard, tingling, and before long I was circling my gooey fingers all over my still covered, but moist pussy.

Jim watched me and pumped his cock faster, his breath quickening. “Oh God,” he groaned. A silver strand of pre-cum stretched its way from the tip of his dick toward the floor, first an inch, then two. It looked so inviting, shiny and swaying with the motion of his strokes, and I became absorbed by the idea of catching his nectar on my tongue before it hit the ground.

I kneeled on the carpet in front of Jim as I dedicated my entire hand to thrashing my hard clit. I grabbed Jim’s upper thigh with my other hand, then looked into his eyes as I stuck out my tongue, curling it up and around that expanding thread of salty sap. I closed my eyes and swallowed, and a charge of electricity surged through my entire clothed body.

I gazed up at Jim and moved my hand to match the speed of his.

“Oh Jesus, Sara.”

“Do it,” I said, all sense of shame gone. “Do it.”

The hole of Jim’s dick stared me in the face, widening as his hand rushed to the base of his cock, narrowing again when his fingers encircled the top. A stream of pre-cum flowed freely over and under his fluttering hand, squishing between his fingers as they twisted and meandered over his delicious length.

I increased the friction on my pussy as a warm coal, then a fire, grew deep inside of me. I knew I couldn’t take much more, and amid the sensations coursing through my body my only thought was consuming Jim’s seed when he came.

Jim bit down on his lower lip and beads of sweat broke out across his brow. We breathed together like animals in heat and I couldn’t wait anymore for him to release his load. I removed my hand from his thigh and securely wrapped it around his cock, replacing his hand with mine and pumping his hot, throbbing meat for all I was worth.

“Oh God, oh God” Jim uttered, barely able to speak.

The ripples and ridges of his slippery dick slid like a piston in my hand, and he began propelling his hips back and forth, shoving his throbbing cock into the vise-like grip of my delicate fist.

The fire in me was about to blossom into an explosion. I wanted him to cum. I needed him to cum.

“Come on. Cum for me,” I begged.

“Oh Sara, oh Sara.”

Jim’s legs quivered and trembled and my hand sped to a blur as I furiously jacked his cock, and when I opened my gaping mouth to receive what I was begging for I was rewarded with a huge set of scalding pearly ropes across my teeth, lips and tongue.

Every muscle in my pelvis quaked to life as I gulped his sticky juice, and then they snapped as bolts of energy shot up my spine, down my arms and through my legs. An agonized squeal escaped my throat and I clutched Jim’s spurting tool even tighter, forcing more bursts of briny jizz to roar from his pulsating cock and across my sweaty face.

Jim slid to the floor and I fell on my back, exhausted. Our chests heaved with our ragged breathing. My right arm ached from the flogging I’d given Jim’s dick, and I felt the sperm that speckled my face trickle down to my ears, into my hair, leaving cool trails of cream upon my cheeks, chin, and throat.

Slumped against the wall, Jim smiled at me, sighing and shaking his head.

“Go girl...”

At first I didn’t know what he meant; when I lifted my head and peered over my t-shirt clad tits, I saw my hand still thrust deep inside my soggy jeans.

Totally spent, all I could do was laugh. What would become of this crazy encounter, I thought. Only time would tell!

THE END

A CFNM Massage Pt.2

SCROLL DOWN FOR PART 1

Her focus again was on the base of my spine, now by the right “dimple” above my ass. Again she seemed to be using that as the center of the circle where she kept her thumb, extending her fingertips into my boxerbriefs, massaging the top of my right asscheek, working her palm around and down my waist nearly to my crotch.

The next time she went to get more lotion from the pump on the left side of my body, she decided to reach back over my body to continue working on the lower right side of my back. I imagined her bending over my body once again, her beautiful breasts snug in her tight t-shirt. As her fingers slipped under my waistband again, she seemed to be pulling on my body, as if to lift the right side of my body off of the table. This
allowed her to slide her fingers even closer around my waist towards my crotch. My cock started to get hard again, this time much more quickly, as she seemed even more intent on getting a feel of my package.

But once again I was disappointed. She came back around to the right side of my body and focused on the upper right side of my back. Was she teasing me like this on purpose? Does she start every session by focusing her massage on the tempting tops of her client’s asscheeks if they have their underwear on? Is that the proper technique she learned in school? Does she always snake her fingers under their waistbands?

She eventually finished with my back and covered the top half of my body with the sheet. She moved down by my right leg, which she uncovered and tucked the sheet under my left leg. Since my boxerbriefs went down to my mid-thigh, her massage of my right leg only went that far up. I was hoping she would slide her fingertips up the back of my boxerbriefs like she had slid them down the top of the waistband, but she stopped before she got to the cotton material.

She finished with my right foot, and then did the same for my left leg and left foot – no effort to get into my boxerbriefs. Was I just imagining her advances before? She covered my legs with the sheet again and broke the silence of the last 45 minutes.

“Okay, I am going to have you turn over to lie on your back” she said in her usual low, silky, sultry voice. Bringing my head out of the cradle, I was disoriented, since I had drifted off into fantasies of her in a bikini massaging me on a beach with the wave sound CD in the background. I opened my eyes and smiled as I repositioned myself on my back, with my head on the massage table instead of in the cradle.

She took a seat behind my head as I started to talk to her (it was too difficult to communicate with my cheeks against the cradle when I was on my stomach).

“So did you feel where my back hurt?” I asked her, as if I thought she had read my mind before. But then, she would have heard my desire for her to reach around with that lotioned hand to stroke my hardening cock.

“No…I don’t have ESP” she explained.

“Oh…I am sorry” I said, embarrassed that I did not let her know the painful areas she worked on.

“That is OK… this is our first session working together…” she said. “Everyone has a different way of communicating. We will get used to each other” she explained. I felt happy about that. I also felt she was communicating her attraction to me by sliding her hands into my underwear.

“Alright I will let you know where it hurts next time” I said. Yes there will be a next time! I thought.

“Do you want me to massage your face?” she asked.

“Sure” I said. I wanted to her to touch as much of me as possible.

She worked her hands into my face, forehead, and scalp. Then she cradled my head on her right arm so I faced to the right, working on my neck and shoulders, then rotated my head to face to the left, and continued the same process on my the other side of my neck. I imagined her cradling my head in her arms as I would nurse on those milky breasts, just inches from the back of my head.

She then stood to work on my right arm, down to my right hand. I closed my eyes as I lied back, because I felt like if I opened them, my lust would just be too much, and I would get aroused looking at her sexy outfit. I wouldn’t be able to hide my erection. I didn’t want my cock to form a tent in the sheet through my boxerbriefs!

So she moved to my left arm and hand, and then placed my arm under the sheet and covered the top half of my body. She uncovered my left leg, and worked down to my left foot. No effort to get into my boxerbriefs while I’m on my back either, I noticed while my eyes were closed. She finished with my right leg and right foot, covered both legs, and then pulled on both legs with her full body weight. She ended the session as she had begun, by walking around my body, pressing on me briefly at
various intervals down the left side of my body and up the right side through the sheets.

She softly told me that we had finished, breaking the silence of the last half of the session in her sultry voice. I opened my eyes and smiled, as she told me I could take my time getting up and dressing and to meet her in the next room.

I got up slowly, wishing that more had happened. I got dressed and went back into her kitchen. It was very dark now, and as I came around the corner out of the studio bedroom, I nearly fell over when I looked at her ass as she was bending over the table, working on some papers. In the dimly lit room, with her skin-tight pants underneath her tight t-shirt, it looked like she wasn’t wearing any pants! I paused for a second as my eyes re-adjusted to being open after an hour and a half of being closed, and realized that she was wearing the same pants as before. My imagination was getting the best of me!

“How do you feel?” she asked.

“Great!” I said as I smiled widely.

“Good” she smiled back.

I wrote her a check and talked briefly about another session with her. She said to let her know when I wanted to come back. When my fiancé got home from work, she asked how I liked it. I told her it was wonderful, but did not mention the details (whether I kept my underwear on, or that her hands crept into them…)

The next few weeks I kept thinking back to my experience, and fantasized about how she had reached her hands into my boxerbriefs and felt the tops of my asscheeks, around my waist toward my crotch. Did she want me to be naked for her? I had to go back and find out!

So the next month I called her cell phone to set up another 90 minute appointment. She called me back on my cellphone and left a voicemessage, but it was cutoff after “hello” because she drove into a bad area. But even hearing that “hello” in her sexy, sultry, deep voice was enough to get my cock stirring in anticipation!

The next day, I sent her a text message, telling her the voicemail was cutoff, and asking about availability for the coming week. She replied via email to the address I share with my fiancé. I was sure to delete the email as soon as read her reply. I thought my fiancé wouldn’t want me to return to her, or to spend that much money again without being sure my claim with the other guy’s car insurance company would cover my massage therapy, but I didn’t care! I had to be naked this time to see
what would happen.

I scheduled the second appointment when my fiancé would be working late again, and didn’t tell her in advance. I was even more nervous this time, as I knocked on the massage therapist’s door, about ten minutes early (her paperwork stressed that clients be on time, to get the full amount of time on the table…)

She opened the door and smiled. Her clothes did not seem to be as tight as the first session, but her breasts were still bountiful, despite the less revealing outfit. We chatted briefly again about my physical therapy over the past month, how it had helped, but that I had gotten lazy and stopped doing the exercises, and my soreness had returned as a result.

She asked if the ocean sounds and mango candles were good again, and I said yes. She led me to her studio again, asking if I needed to use the restroom. I said no.

She told me to “undress to whatever I felt comfortable with.” I said “OK” as she left. This time I stripped naked. I was ready for the nude male - clothed female scenario I had been fantasizing about for a year.

I got onto the massage table, and felt the smooth sheets on my bare ass. I lied on my stomach with my soft cock underneath my body and my face by the cradle.

She knocked before she came back in, and asked if I needed the cradle adjusted like last time. I said yes. I told her I would be more vocal this time and let her know which areas hurt, and told her about my stretching exercises from the physical therapist.

“Which ones did he have you do?” she asked.

I propped myself up on my elbows to demonstrate one neck stretching excercise, and the covers slid down my back. I also showed her the arm and back exercise, as I enjoyed the sensation of being naked on her table as I talked to her while she was fully dressed.

She adjusted the cradle and I lied down and closed my eyes. She smoothed the sheet over my shoulders as before and walked around my body, pressing on me briefly at various intervals through the sheets. When she applied pressure by my upper thigh near where my boxerbriefs would have ended, she must have felt that I decided to be naked for this appointment. I was getting excited in anticipation of her lotioned hands on my bare body.

She drew back the sheet to expose my upper body. She folded the sheet just at the top of my asscheeks, merely an inch or so from my ass. She must see that I am naked now! I thought, since my dimples were showing where the waistband of my boxerbriefs would have been.

I heard her pump some of her wonderful lotion into her hands, and felt that magic touch of her hands on the left side of my back again. Standing on my left side, she worked quickly in short strokes down the left side of my back to the bottom. As I had hoped and expected and fantasized about, she focused first by the left dimple above my ass. Was she breathing more heavily?

Since I was naked this time around, with no boxerbriefs in the way of her hands, she explored my full left asscheek, covering it with lotion, applying pressure within inches of my ass. Was she happy that I decided I was comfortable to be nude with her?

The sheet seemed to be barely covering my left asscheek. With my head in the cradle and my eyes closed, I imagined her having a full view of my asscheek as her hands worked on me and moved the edge of the sheet up and over my ass. My cock started to harden against the massage table. Her hands worked over my waist nearly to my crotch as last time, only stopping where my left leg was touching the massage table, inches from my hard cock. I was in heaven!

She pumped some more lotion into her hands as she moved to the head of the table, and started both hands sliding slowly down the length of my back. With her reaching far down my body, I could just imagine her delicious tits inches from touching my back again. Was that her stomach I heard growling? I wished I was on my back, and that I could see her bending over my naked body. Then she could calm that stomach by sucking on my cock.

Both hands reached the top of my ass where the sheet ended, and kept going underneath the sheet past the top off my asscheeks. From her position, she must have had a clear view under the sheet to where her hands were reaching, to see my whole bare ass. Damn this felt so good!

She reached as far as she could, bending over my body, her hands applying pressure fully halfway down my ass, her thumbs just inches from my ass on either side, then sliding down each side of my waist. Yes, I thought, feel my bare ass with your lotion covered hands!

She followed this blatant feeling of my ass by the proper focus on the left side of my back. My cock subsided. I broke the silence thus far by letting her know which area was painful.

“Right there” I said.

“Okay” she said and focused there, working out that specific muscle.

When she moved over to my right side this time, she started out like she had on the left. After the work she had already done, I felt that the sheet was barely covering my right asscheek. My cock started to harden against the massage table again as her hands worked over my waist nearly to my crotch, only stopping where my right leg was touching the massage table. A few times her hands briefly connected with my fingers. I ever so slightly tried to reach up from where my hand was lying on the table to be sure she bumped into me again.

She moved to pump some more lotion into her hands, and reached back over my naked body to continue working on the lower right side of my back. She pulled on my body as in the last session, to lift the right side of my body off of the table. If I moved just a few more inches onto my side, she would have seen my hard cock sticking out. With my eyes closed I imagined her seeing this and bending over to hold it, or even suck on it.

She came back around to the right side of my body and focused on the upper right side of my back. When she reached the trouble spot on that side, I said “right there” again.

She replied with a sexy wordless “mmmm hmmmm” as if she already knew what I needed. Eventually finishing, she covered the top half of my body with the sheet.

Now was the true test I had been waiting for. She moved down by my right leg, which she uncovered. She tucked the sheet under my left leg, her hand inches from my bare ass under the sheets.

Her massage of my right leg was much more involved this time, as I had hoped. She started by running her lotion covered hands up the full length of my leg, from my ankle to my waist, applying pressure up my right asscheek as she went.

Then she settled down on my right calf, alternately rotating both hands around my calf as it were the handle of a motorcycle she was revving up. She continued this technique up the length of my calf, to my knee, and slowly up my thigh. I imagined her continuing with that technique to stroke my hard cock. As her hands massaged my inner right thigh, they were inches from by balls, hidden only by the sheet tucked under my left leg. Could she see them?

She changed her technique as her hand reached my bare ass, pushing into the right cheek firmly and applying slow pressure up towards my waist, her thumb inches from my ass. She finished by massaging my right foot and proceeded to work on my left leg and foot in the same manner, fully working my bare left asscheek with her lotion covered hands.

She covered my legs and softly broke the silence to tell me to turn over. I was very disoriented this time, moving up towards the cradle as I turned over, as if to exit the massage table. She said “No, move down the table…the other way” She laughed at me in my groggy state.

“How are you doing?” she asked.

“I am so out of it” I said in all honesty. Out of mind horny! But I was a bit worried, being on my back now, that I wouldn’t be able to hide an erection against the massage table. What would I do?

As she did last time, she worked her hands into my face, forehead, scalp, my neck and shoulders. I pointed out where my neck hurt. She replied “uh-huh”. I imagined she was moaning and grunting in response to me sucking on those huge tits of hers behind my head.

She then stood to work on my right arm and hand. I kept my eyes closed so as not to get aroused, or get caught staring at her breasts. With my eyes closed, I imagined my right hand entering her moist pussy as she slid her lotioned hand up and down each individual finger.

When she moved to my left arm and hand, she was getting some lotion from the dispenser, and she must have backed into my left hand, which was right at the edge of the table. My eyes were closed, but I was sure it was the material of her tight pants. The back of my hand must be against that sweet ass! She stayed there for a few seconds. The next time she went to get some more lotion, she backed her ass into my hand again. Did she do that on purpose?

I don’t know, but my cock came to life again. Lying on my back with my eyes closed, I could feel it starting to point towards my right leg. As she finished massaging my left hand, her hands felt more moist than usual as they pulled on my fingers. Were her hands sweaty?

As she finished, she placed my left arm under the sheet and covered the top half of my body. She uncovered my left leg, and tucked the sheet under my right leg. OK, good. The sheets were folded over where my erection was growing. Maybe she can’t see it!

She got some more lotion, and her hands touched my bare thigh parallel with and inches from my crotch. She quickly worked down to my left foot, and started up the left leg, alternately rotating both hands around my calf, continued this technique up the length of my calf, to my knee, and slowly up my thigh.

Oh my god I think I am completely hard right now!

As her hands reached my inner left thigh, they were inches from by balls and fully erect cock, hidden only by the sheet tucked under my right leg. Could she see them?

She changed her technique as her hand reached the top of my thigh, where my left leg met my crotch. She pushed her palm into that area where my leg joins my pelvis and left it there for what seemed like ten seconds. Then she firmly applied slow pressure up towards my waist, her thumb inches from my cock and balls under the sheet.

She finished by massaging my left foot and put the cover over my left leg. With my eyes closed, I felt my cock pointing to the right and straining against the sheet as she came around to my right side. She carefully uncovered my right leg and tucked the sheet under my left leg. The fold of the sheet was wrapped around my hard cock, which was pointing up and to the right. It was like she tucked my cock in for the night! Did she see what she had done?

She got some more lotion, and her hands continued on my bare right thigh by my crotch, her arm just inches from my hard cock pointing towards her, wrapped in the sheet. She quickly worked down to my right foot, and started up the right leg, rotating both hands around my calf. This technique continued up my calf, knee, and slowly up my right thigh.

As her hands reached my inner right thigh, I felt my cock start to twitch because it was so hard. As before, she changed her technique as her hand reached the top of my right thigh. When she reached the point where my right leg met my crotch, she pushed her palm into me. I silently matched her pressure with a twitch of my erect cock with my eyes closed. I had to have moved the sheet! She must have noticed my hardon next to her hand under the sheet. I kept my eyes closed. She firmly applied slow pressure up towards my waist, and finished by massaging my right foot and put the cover over my right leg.

She ended the session by pulling the sheet taught against my body. Was she looking at my erection? My eyes were closed and I could feel her pull on both legs with her full body weight. I matched each pull with a twitch of my cock against the sheet. She moved her hands to rest on my feet. She squeezed the tips of my toes three times. Each squeeze of my toes I matched with another silent spasm of my hard cock against the sheet.

Finally she walked around my body, pressing on me briefly at various intervals down the left side of my body and up the right side through the sheets.

Again she softly told me that we had finished, breaking the silence of the last half of the session in her sultry voice. I kept my eyes closed and smiled.

She told me to “take as much time as you need getting up.”

When she closed the door, I opened my eyes. Slowly, I looked down at my body under the sheets.

My cock was obscenely hard and forming a massive tent in the sheet covering me!


Then I got up with my erection pointing straight out. I tried to push it down so I could get dressed quickly and meet her outside. By the time I was fully dressed again, I had lost half of my hardon and could walk fairly straight.

I exited her studio. She had poured me some water in a glass on the kitchen table.

“How are you doing?” she asked in that impossibly sexy voice.

“Great. How are you?” I asked her.

“Good thanks. I poured you some water” she said.

I drank the water as she encouraged me to increase my fluids for the next few days. I paid her with cash and asked for a receipt. We ended by discussing my insurance claim, and how I hoped to get the company to pay for a full year’s worth of sessions with her. She made no mention of what must have been my obvious arousal during the session. She said the best way to reach her for a future appointment was via email. I told her I would email her soon.

What will happen during the next session? Did she enjoy feeling my naked body with lotion and seeing my hard cock bulging against the sheets? What did she think? Is this usual for her nude clients? Should I keep my eyes open next time I am on my back? I think I might!

THE END

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A CFNM Massage Pt.1

About three months ago, I was involved in a car accident. I was getting onto the interstate highway late one night when I saw a four car accident in front of me in the left hand lane. I came to a stop and was waiting for a chance to pass the accident, but the cars were flying by in the right hand lanes. While I was looking in my rear view mirror, I saw another car coming onto the highway at full speed from the on-ramp.I was rear-ended and my car was totaled, and I suffered some whiplash as a result. My fiancé came to pick me up and bring me home. The next morning I felt nauseous and had a headache, and my neck and arms hurt. After waiting six hours in the emergency room with my fiancé, a friend of my fiancé who works at that hospital, and her husband, the CAT scan showed no major injuries. However, I had a concussion and sustained some whiplash.

My health insurance hadn’t started yet at my new job (of course the accident was just about three days before it became effective!) Luckily, I was not at fault in the accident and I would be putting in a claim on the other driver’s automobile insurance. Once my health insurance did kick in, my fiancé suggested I visit her primary care physician, who is a female doctor at another local hospital. So I scheduled a follow up appointment with her the next week.

My pain from the accident had pretty much subsided. I filled out the paperwork when I got to the hospital with my fiancé after leaving work early, and the woman at the front desk showed me to the examination room, where she told me to take off my shirt. I sat on the exam table topless and with my work dress pants on.

I wasn’t surprised by how attractive the doctor was when she walked in (my fiancé used to be attracted to women, and one of her lesbian friends who is a nurse at the same facility had recommended her...) The doctor is an Asian women who seemed to be in her late thirties, very slim, dark brown hair. The first thing I noticed was her mid-thigh length black skirt, black pantyhose and black heels. The next thing I looked for was a wedding ring – which she did have.

The doctor sat down on a chair in the examination room and asked me my health history. She had a slight accent, but she sounded like she had learned English very well. She asked who referred me, and I told her “my fiancé” who was in the waiting room.

As she was asking me these questions, all I could do as I answered was stare at her legs, which were crossed as she sat in the chair.

“Oh yes I know her. When are you two getting married?” she asked as she looked up from her paperwork.

I looked up from her legs into her dark eyes. “This fall” I answered.

She gave me a sweet smile as she said “that’s nice” and then returned her gaze to the form she was filling out.

Her skirt rode up her thighs a bit as her legs were crossed, exposing more of her luscious stocking clad legs, which started to get me a bit excited. Her heel covered foot bounced slightly during her questioning, as if she knew she was teasing me! I felt my cock start to stir inside my boxer briefs and dress pants.

After the initial questioning, she stood up and came over to me to take my blood pressure. The strap was cold as she slid it around my bare left arm. She pumped the strap tighter around me and began to read my blood pressure.

“You seem a bit nervous” she asked as she looked at the reading.

“Uh…yes….I am….” I said. Did my voice just crack? I cleared my throat and tried to explain. “I haven’t had health insurance in five years….” I was making an excuse for being so excited as I stole another glance down at her stocking covered leg, which was just inches from my left leg dangling off the examination table.

“That’s better…” she said. My blood pressure must have gone down, since I was concentrating very hard on not being so turned on by my doctor. My cock started to return to it’s natural resting state in my boxerbriefs.

The doctor briefly felt my back where I said I felt sore. She said I seemed fine, and just to take some extra strength Tylenol if I felt any pain. I was surprised I didn’t get a more thorough examination for being in such a major accident, but I figured “she’s the doctor” and accepted her diagnosis. She said to schedule a full physical in a month or so and said goodbye, leaving me to put on my shirt.

We walked together to the waiting room, where the doctor said hello to my fiancé before I left.

I had also scheduled an appointment with a naturopathic doctor (yet another suggestion from my fiancé, who had met the doctor and his wife…) The naturopathic doctor suggested I get some massage for the sore neck and back.

“Getting someone’s hands on you is the best way to work through this” he told me.

I agreed, and immediately envisioned some gorgeous masseuse working on my back and neck. And I would get the other guy’s insurance to pay for it!

The doctor suggested a place for me to get worked on cheaply: by students at a massage school who need to get a lot of practice hours under their belts, but I didn’t write down the name of the school, and I forgot once I left his office.

I took some Tylenol for a while, and whatever pain remained seemed to go away.

But about a month later, I was stupid enough to try and carry a heavy load down the stairs at work and suffered a relapse of my initial concussion as my foot hit the first stair on the way down to the basement, which was slightly lower than the rest of the stairs. I felt nauseous and had a headache again, and my neck and arms hurt just like the morning after my accident.

I went back to my male naturopathic doctor, who did some acupuncture, gave me some cream for my neck, and wrote down the name of that massage school for me to check out. I also went back with my fiancé to my sexy primary care physician for her opinion.

As I sat in another exam room alone, waiting for the doctor again with my shirt off and my dress pants on, I wasn’t so interested in what she would be wearing this time around. Okay maybe I was, but I was also genuinely concerned and worried about my health, and the recurrence of my concussion. She entered the room, and seemed to be more moderately dressed. Maybe because she stood (instead of starting off sitting)
during our conversation, my eyes weren’t drawn to her delicious legs during this visit.

“How long do you think this will happen?” I asked her.
“It depends…” she said evasively.

“What should I do to prevent this sort of thing?” I was getting more concerned about her treatment plan.

“Well…we can recommend some physical therapy…” she said as she started to write out a prescription.

“What does that entail? It is like massage?” I asked, as I wasn’t exactly sure what physical therapy meant. I imagined getting her to give me some physical therapy, perhaps even a full body massage.

“No it is more intensive…” she said as I pictured her intensely riding my cock.

“Oh…ok…” I said.

She recommended six visits to the physical therapist at their facility, and described it as “more vigorous exercise”.

“If you need more than six, you can let me know” she said. I’d like a lot more from you, I thought as I thanked her and she ended the appointment.

As I headed toward the waiting room, the doctor smiled slyly and told me to say “hello” to my fiancé for her. When I paid for the follow-up, I also scheduled a regular full physical examination for the next month. I secretly looked forward to being completely naked for her. Would she enjoy seeing and feeling my balls? I would certainly enjoy the chance to show them to her in a professional setting.

The physical therapist I was assigned to turned out to be male. He showed me some stretching and exercises which really helped my back and neck. He also suggested I concentrate on my sitting posture. I only needed about five sessions with him before I felt like I was back to normal again.

In the meantime, while I was completely focused on doing everything possible to improve my health, I had tried calling the massage school my naturopathic doctor had recommended. But their hours were not compatible with my work schedule.

Luckily, my fiancé and I happen to live in an apartment complex where we knew a massage therapist who lives on the floor below us. About a year ago, my fiancé had asked me if I would ever want a massage, and if I would want to be worked on by a guy or a girl.

“A girl!” I exclaimed. “I don’t want no guy rubbing me!” I told her jokingly.

My fiancé just laughed (we had visited one of her old friends in California who is a gay male massage therapist who is quite successful in his legitimate practice….)

So I told my fiancé I was going to try her out (my fiancé had gone to this massage therapist the other year when her back was hurting her…) The massage therapist also happens to be quite sexy, in a different way than my leggy Asian female doctor. My fiancé had asked me a long time ago if I thought the massage therapist was sexy.

“Not as sexy as my baby” I told her as I always did, to which she smiled as usual.

The truth was that I had been initially attracted to the massage therapist when she first moved into my building (this was two years ago, just as I had started dating my eventual fiancé, and I was living in the apartment complex by myself…) I saw her moving in, and was immediately infatuated with her large breasts. She always seemed to wear shirts that emphasized her breasts, not necessarily her cleavage, but the fact that they were so ample. They were quite full and seemed to beg to be
massaged themselves. My mouth would water as I would run into her in the hallway or the elevator or the mailroom, and I would make small talk, imagining sucking on those sweet, full, round tits. Her voice was always low and silky, sultry and confident, as I am sure her hands would be during a massage.

Our building manager had even thought about setting me up on a date with the massage therapist back then, since we were both single and in our twenties at the time (my fiancé is in her thirties…) But I told the building manager that I had started seeing someone, and the building manager told me she thought the massage therapist wouldn’t have been right for me anyways (she went so far as to describe her as “a bitch!”) I never saw that quality in her, but I was intrigued as to why my building manager described her that way. Was she too “high maintenance”? Was she someone who wanted to be in control? Would she dominate me? I left this to fantasy, until this chance came up that I needed to seek out massage from her.

The other year the massage therapist had started a relationship with a guy who lives in our complex, a big, conservative type guy who I never really clicked with or understood her attraction to. But my fiancé and the massage therapist had become friends, going to clothing swap parties and potluck dinners and the like. So we already had her email address on our shared email account addressbook.

When my fiancé was writing to the massage therapist one night, I added a paragraph at the bottom of the email, explaining my situation and asking about her schedule for the next week. She replied with her availability and times for the length of massages she offered (30, 45, 60 and 90 minutes). I decided to go for a 90 minute massage on an evening when my fiancé had to work late.

A day or two before the scheduled massage, she called my cell phone and left a message in her sultry voice reminding me about the time, and to plan on being there for two hours, since I had to fill out all the initial paperwork. I was excited about the whole process.

The morning of the appointment, my fiancé told me to leave my underwear on during the massage.

“Why?” I asked.

“Well…you can do whatever you want…” she said and left the conversation like that.

“Okay I’ll leave them on” I said to make her happy.

That evening after work, I made sure I had on clean black cotton boxerbriefs under my work clothes, and that I had fresh deodorant and cologne before I went downstairs to the massage therapist’s apartment (her boyfriend’s apartment was just down the hall on my floor…) I brought my briefcase with notes from my various doctors and physical
therapist. Was I actually nervous? No I am going to be fine, she is a professional, nothing to worry about!

“She will put me at ease” I thought. I calmed down as I knocked on the door. She answered with a sweet smile and welcomed me inside. She was wearing her usual light colored tight t-shirt which fit snugly to her amazing breasts, and a pair of dark workout pants which looked like a second skin around her curvy ass. Damn she was sexy! I sat at her kitchen table and she brought me some water as we talked about my
accident and treatments. I needed that drink, as my mouth was watering imagining what was under that tight outfit (though it didn’t leave much to be imagined!)

She asked me what sort of music and candle scents I preferred. I selected “ocean sounds” and “mango” scented candles. She went to work setting this up as I filled out all of her forms: medical history, diagrams of where my neck and back hurt. The sun had set and it was dark in the apartment, the candles set a romantic mood with the waves crashing softly in the background.

The diagram of the body showed a front and back view of a naked man. I was tempted to put “X”s around my cock and balls so she would work on them too, but I just highlighted my neck and back. There was also a form which explicitly stated that this massage was “non-sexual”, that I would be “draped at all times”, it differed from a “massage parlor” etc. which I had to sign and date. “Of course! She is a licensed massage therapist” I thought.

After this process, which took about a half hour, she asked if I had to use the restroom.

“No” I said.

“Okay” she said as she led me to the bedroom of the apartment, which had been converted into her massage studio. The scent of the mango candles had filled the room, and the massage table was made up neatly with sheets and blankets folded over.

“I tell all of my clients to remove as much clothing as you are comfortable with, so you can leave on whatever you wish” she said. I smiled as I remembered my promise to my fiancé (“keep your underwear on” she had said).

“I’ll leave the room and go to the bathroom. You can get on the table, under the covers, and lie on your stomach. I’ll knock when I get back before I enter. I’m going to spend the majority of my time on your back and neck, since those are your ‘trouble spots’, but you will get a full massage since we have 90 minutes. Okay? Any questions?” she asked. I said “no” as she smiled before she left and closed the door.

As I looked at her diploma from massage school on the wall, I stripped down to my black cotton boxerbriefs (keeping my promise to my fiancé) and got up on the massage table. The sheets were incredibly soft (like an old, well worn t-shirt). There was a pillow on the mattress where my legs would be, and my face was in one of those massage-table “cradles” with the hole in the middle so I could breathe as I faced the floor and my chin and cheeks would be supported with a comfy pillow covering.

The massage therapist knocked and asked if I was ready. I grunted from my face-down position for her to come in. She asked if I needed her to adjust the face cradle, I said “yes could you move it up a bit?” She said “sure” and moved it into place.

I looked at the carpeted studio floor though the cradle and closed my eyes as the sounds of the waves crashing on the shore drifted in from the next room. She explained how she does not use oils for her massage, just lotions, so that I would not feel gross when it was finished. Funny, I thought, I uses lotions when I jerk-off thinking about scenarios such as this with clothed females and nude males!

She smoothed the sheet over my shoulders and walked around my body, pressing on me briefly at various intervals down the right side of my body and up the left side through the sheets. Her pressure was just for a few seconds on my back, then a little lower, then by my upper thigh near where my boxerbriefs ended. Could she feel them through the sheets? Was she disappointed that I kept them on?

She continued down my right leg, and up my left leg, to my back again. Then she drew back the sheet, exposing my upper body to my waist. She folded the sheet just about where my black boxerbriefs started. Well, she must know I am not naked now, I thought.

I heard her pump some lotion into her hands, and felt that first magic touch on the left side of my back. She started standing on my left side, with brief light pressure by my shoulder, and worked quickly in short strokes down the left side of my back to the bottom. I nearly gasped when I felt her fingertips side under the waistband of my boxerbriefs!

“Oh my God! What is happening?” I thought.

She proceeded to start her focus of the evening on the lower left side of my back, at the base of my spine, by the left “dimple” above my ass (which was only exposed because she had succeed in moving the waistband of my boxerbriefs down about three inches to expose both “dimples”.) She seemed to be using that as the center of the circle where she kept her thumbs. She would extend her fingertips, and indeed it seemed all four fingers of her hands, pushing under the already re-positioned waistband and into my boxerbriefs, massaging the top of my left asscheek deeply.
She worked her palm as far as she could reach around my waist, nearly to my crotch, only ending her search when her hand was stopped where my left leg was touching the massage table.

As she was putting this pressure on my lower left side, it truly seemed like she was trying to reach into my boxerbriefs, underneath my body, towards where my cock was coming to life under the weight of my body. I couldn’t believe my luck! This sexy woman with lotioned hands is rubbing the top of my asscheek underneath my boxerbriefs!

I kept silent with my eyes closed enjoying this situation. After focusing on this highly erotic and arousing region, she moved to stand at the top of the table my head. I couldn’t see anything outside of my cradle when I opened my eyes, except the floor, so I closed them again. She pumped some more lotion into her hands, and started both hands sliding slowly down the length of my back, starting at my shoulders.

I couldn’t imagine how she was reaching so far down my body, since both hands were just about at my boxerbriefs again. She must be bending completely over my body! Those delicious tits must be inches from touching my back, I thought, as both hands reached the waistband of my boxer briefs, and her fingers kept going underneath!

She must have reached as far as she could, bending over my body, standing by my head, as her hands applied pressure to the bottom of my spine. Her fingers once again massaged the tops of my asscheeks underneath my boxerbriefs, her hands parting and going down each side of my waist. She might have looked at the diagram I made for her, but right now she seemed to just want to get a feel of my ass!

Just as I was starting to get more excited, she seemed to decide to really focus on the left side of my back properly, applying more lotion and digging in deep, even using her elbows to apply pressure. My cock went back to sleep as she really worked on my back and neck muscles, which were quite painful, and I realized I was hurt more than I thought.

But when she moved over to my right side, she started out again like she had on the left. Her focus again was on the base of my spine, now by the right “dimple” above my ass. Again she seemed to be using that as the center of the circle where she kept her thumb, extending her fingertips into my boxerbriefs, massaging the top of my right asscheek, working her palm around and down my waist nearly to my crotch.

TO BE CONTINUED...

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