The Massage Parlour

Mid terms were just around the corner. It's all Stacey could think about since classes started.

Only nineteen and she felt like she was drowning in just the pre-med coursework alone. The part-time shift at the campus bar just added to the tension in her neck from hunching over late night studies.

"Stress Relief -- Introductory Massage -- Special Rate". It was thumbtacked to the College Hub corkboard between ads for used textbooks and a cappella group tryouts. The ad resonated hard with her, right after class. The last assignment was brutal but she managed to get by with a B+. "Why not" she said as she tore off a number.

Each morning, every class and shift felt exhausting. She wasn't exactly the party animal - who has time for that between assignments and work? She hadn't been touched, truly touched, not since the underwhelming ending with Josh at Prom.

"Hey just saw your flyer. Is the special rate still available?" She messaged the number from the torn paper. A reply followed, promptly. "Yes, I have one available Friday at six. Just need a name for the booking"

"Thanks! It's Stacey" she eagerly replied.

The day before, out of anxiety, she got a Brazilian wax. Just in case, she told herself. 'What would other girls think if they so much as saw a stray hair peeking out of my briefs?'

The building was very nondescript. A brick box just ten minutes off campus. No signs advertising the parlour. She pushed through the door into a small, empty reception area. Nothing fancy - A standing desk with small posters of lilies and "relax" scattered on the walls. She tapped the bell on the desk. A man from a back room appeared. He was older, maybe early forties, judging from the specks of grey in his stubble. His calm demeanor and charming smile shut down every thought of changing her mind.

"You must be Stacey? I'm Alex."

Her voice stuttered "Hi Alex". She'd pictured a woman. But his smile was kind, his voice soft, and the price was impossibly cheap.

"Follow me," he said.

The room was quiet, dimly lit, scented with eucalyptus and the soft strains of spa music. A massage table stood in the center, a rolled towel at its head. "Undress to your comfort level and lie face down. I'll give you a moment," Alex instructed before slipping out.

Alone, Stacey's nerves fluttered. She stripped, leaving her panties on--a thin shield of cotton. She lay on the cool vinyl, draping the small towel over her back, and waited.

A soft knock and he returned. His hands, slick with warm oil, found the knots in her neck and shoulders with an expert, firm pressure. Her shoulders melted under hands. The relief made her involuntary sigh. He worked down her arms, her torso, his touch felt methodical, clinical even. He moved to her legs, his strong hands kneading the tension from her calves, her thighs, adjusting her legs as he worked higher up her body.

"Sometimes there's tension held in the hips," he murmured, his fingers hooking gently into the waistband of her panties, easing them down, only just leaving enough to cover her lips. His thumbs pressed into the dip of her pelvis and lower belly. A strange, warm sensation resonated through her groin and thighs.

"Time for the back," he said.

As she turned over, the towel slid away, baring her breasts to the cool air. A flush of embarrassment heated her skin. "Don't worry about it," Alex soothed, his tone unchanged as he casually moved the towel aside. She closed her eyes as her positioned her head in the face cradle.

His hands began again on the backs of her legs. The music has transitioned to a rhythmic, pulsing track she hadn't noticed before. "There's a lot of stiffness in the lower lumbar," he observed, his voice closer. "Would it be okay if I moved your underwear for better access?"

"Erm, sure." She wasn't sure what to think.

She felt the elastic band catch, then release. The fabric travelled down her legs and was gone. The exposure felt new and vulnerable.

The table creaked. She felt the firm pressure of his knees bracketing her thighs, his body leaning over her. His hands, slick and warm, worked magic on her lower back, tracing the line of her spine, upwards. And then she felt it--a subtle pressure, soft, clothed friction against the curve of her ass cheeks with each movement of his torso. She ignored it, burying any doubt that could make this massage more awkward.

He paused. The music seemed louder. Then, a new sensation-- smooth, firm warmth, skin on skin, sliding deliberately between her parted thighs. A jolt of electricity shot through her, sharp and unmistakable. She froze, but her body, was starved and reacted without her realising it until she could feel wetness between her thighs.

He pressed closer, his body felt like a warm hug against her back. The firm probe nudged again at her cheeks, seeking. And her body responded without her knowing. Her spine arched, her hips tilted back as if seeking that firm probe. The moment her skin met his, she knew. He was naked. Hard.

A raw, hungry sound escaped her. She pushed back, meeting him. He was right there, and she was so ready, so slick from the teasing and oil that when he shifted, there was no resistance as he slid into her.

"Oh, god," she gasped.

He didn't speak. His hands gripped her hips, anchoring her as he began to move. He started slow and shallow getting deeper with each thrust.

She matched his rhythm begging him for more as she pushed back onto him.

She let out a breathless, "Don't stop, please, don't stop," into the vinyl bedding as felt herself peaking. waves of electricity pulsing through her body making her legs tremble uncontrollably.

He didn't stop. The pace intensified, becoming harder, deeper. The table rocked against the floor. The second time took her by surprise, more intense than the first. Her moans were louder and she clutched the edges of the table as he pumped harder before finishing in her.

Everything fell silent, disrupted only by their ragged breathing and the fading spa music. He pulled out, a pool of his and her cum gushed out and onto the vinyl. She heard the soft sounds of him moving, dressing. She followed and slid off the table, her legs unsteady, and grabbed her clothes. Her back facing him to save herself the embarrassment.

"There's no charge today, Stacey. It's on the house." he said as he left the room, allowing her to get dressed.

She nodded on the way out, her face blushing red from both the embarrassment and endorphins still pulsing through her.

The evening air felt cool as walked to her car around the corner. She felt alive as she started to collect her thoughts before driving back to her campus apartment. The breeze from the drive soothed her blushing face and the shame dissipated quickly as she relived her orgasms over and over on the way home.

She threw herself into bed, unsure what to make of the events that just happened. Trying to take her mind off it, she talked herself into a rigorous study session at the campus library. It was only then when she was searching her pockets, she realised she it wasnt there. Not in her bag or her car. A big grin crept on her face. She knew she'd have to go back.