The Massage

The Massage

"What do you like? What would you like to do? Would you like to try it with me?" Sending the message, I wondered if she will even bother answering. After all, she is a lesbian and much younger, twenty-six to my forty-four.

Surprise, an answer ping from the mailbox announcer, and quickly, too. I open the mailbox, open the one new message.

An answer, from Emily. Well, she says that her name is Emily, maybe it even is. "What would I like? No idea. I did not have male sex in a very long time. What do you want to do?"

"I am not sure. How about a Yoni massage?" I answer.

Would she even know what a Yoni massage is? Not surprisingly, she does not...

"I don't shave my body hair, especially not pubic," she mails me. "Would you like me to?" Good heavens, body modification, even slight, all for me? But, no. "Don't. I love a full bush."

More emails, back and forth. We agree. We set a time and a place. We exchange real phone numbers, real names, real emails. We exchange photographs, real ones, face and body, but chaste. It is going to happen. "But, please," she writes, "I really want to try fucking. Penetration. Remember."

We meet. She is shorter than I imagined. Short hair, small eyes, small hands, dark jeans and a jacket. Round face. We meet at my car and she sees me watching her come up. "Well," she looks me up and down as she speaks, "Do you like what you see?" I nod. Does it matter? Probably does, but I am too excited by the possibilities.

We get in the car, drive. A by-the-hour hotel room, not a nice one but large. And has a big shower. Which is good, I am after a day's work. We undress, and I try not to look at her before we get in the shower. But I peek, as she walks to the shower, her buttocks are round, not very big.

We are in the shower, fiddling with the water, delaying the moment when we will turn to each other and look... She turns to me, I turn to her. What will she look at? I am already semi-erect and, unerringly, she looks down and smiles. "Presentable, very presentable," she laughs. Her breasts are medium size, very round, small dark nipples. One is pierced. Her pubic triangle is large, already wet and tangled from the shower water. I turn her round and soap her back and buttocks, she does the same. I can feel her nipples touch my back.

We exit the shower. I dry her and me. How come I lead, I wonder. I lead her to the bed, lay her down, on her stomach. Her skin is fairly light, her buttocks are so inviting, legs are parted just slightly, letting me see a glimpse of her sex, shrouded in shadow.

I pour a dollop of Play Mousse in my hand and start massaging her back. The mousse is not very good, this is the first time I ever used it and... never again. Sesame oil, from now on. She shifts under the massage, presenting her shoulder blades, lifting a hand or a leg in time with the massage. I rub inward, centering the energy. Concentrating on the massage strokes lets me concentrate on her body and take my thought away from mine. I massage her legs, from the ankle up to her hip and thigh. She spreads her legs a bit more, raises her hips, inviting? I can see her sex clearer, lips thick and dark, cleft.

Her skin is smooth. She is muscular, but not very. Youth... My hands glide down her back, kneading her muscles, her buttocks. She is very silent, her eyes are closed. What is she thinking?

My hands travel up her legs, caressing the insides of her thighs, almost reaching her lips, but not quite. She sighs quietly. "Why don't you turn over," I suggest. My voice sounds hoarse and harsh. She does, turning over, lies on her back. The nipple piercing reflects the lamp above, why do I notice this?

I kneel astride her legs, continue massaging them, using more of the mousse, my hands glide over her skin. Every time I lean forward to massage her, my face comes close to her pubic hair. It is very black, luxurious, matted. I can smell her scent, mixed with the mousse. I can glimpse her lips, fleshy, tasty, beautiful under the black triangle. Her breasts rise and fall, slowly, as she breathes or as I run my hands over her sides, almost to her breasts, just touching, almost as if in passing.

Moving forward, slowly, I sit on her hips and start massaging her breasts. My hands glide over, around, over and against around her breasts and nipples, and all the time I am conscious of her pubic hair caressing me, tickling.

With deliberation, I begin to concentrate on her nipples. One finger swirling around the tip. Then two. Then three. Then four. Then all five. Round and round, back and forth. My other hand is resting lightly on her solar plexus, mindful of her breath, her rhythm. Her other nipple, the pierced nipple, feels very different--firmer, stiffer. She gently arches her back, meeting my fingers. Her mouth opens slightly, breaths growing shorter.

"Breathe deeply," I remind her, "breathe."

I move back, between her legs, spreading them to give me space. She opens her eyes, looking at me. I look at her face, half smile, at her chest and breasts, her stomach -- flat yet curving gently, beautiful -- and at her sex, open before me, glistening, framed by her pubic hair. Her outer lips are dark, the inner ones are pink, dark pink, small drops of moisture already beading on them.

Pouring some mousse on her pubic mound, I start to massage her outer lips, using my open palm. Small circles, letting the mousse lubricate her hair, feeling and smelling her wetness spread on my hand and on her lips. She shudders and almost stops breathing. "Breathe, don't forget to breathe," all the while pressing my palm against her lips, circling.

Her hips are slowly starting to swing, in time with my hand, her breath is synchronising with mine. Her eyes are closed, yet she is all here, beautiful and excited. I whisper -- "May I enter you?" She opens her eyes, briefly looking into mine. Nods.

I withdraw my palm from her sex and look at her. Her lips are swollen, dark pink, wet. The black hair is wet and matted. Her scent, strong and pungent, overpowers the smell of the mousse. Her little pink clitoris, like a berry, glistens between the swollen lips.

I slide one finger along her lips, enjoying the sensation of her hotness and wetness, so beautifully mixed. Parting her slightly, I hold one of the outer lips between thumb and forefinger and very gently knead it up and down, all the while watching her face. She relaxes, still smiling slightly, and tilts her head back, away, alone. I look back down, to my hands caressing her wet lips, pulling and turning the folds of her lips, in time with her hips. A stroke, five, ten, more... I switch to her other lip, repeat, then back. She raises her shoulders from the bed, looks at my hands between her legs, looks at my erection. "You are very patient," she says. I only nod, and let go of her outer lip to run my finger along her entire sex, up to the clitoris, not touching. She sighs, closes her eyes and leans back to present her more fully to my hands, my eyes.

Her inner lips are now very pink, open, wet and inviting... I take one of them between my fingers and pull very gently. Her sex opens slightly, inviting. I massage her inner lips, pulling them, folding them and kneading, gently and slowly. She moves her hips towards me. I place one finger at the opening of her lips, just resting there, letting her hips' movement slide her onto me...

She inhales as I enter her, my finger in her hot wetness, my thumb resting on her clitoris. I pour some more mousse and massage her clitoris very very lightly, my finger resting almost motionless inside her. Then, almost imperceptibly, I allow my finger to move, up and down, curling, twisting, enjoying the sensation of her around me, listening to her breathing, the soundlessly creaking bed, the almost silent sighs she makes. She and I move almost together, one with the other. I try to move in time with her, to match and capture her rhythm.

I place my free hand on her pubic mound and press gently down, pinning her hips to the bed. She tries to raise her hips, pressing back, then subsides. I slowly rotate my finger, twisting it slowly, all the while massaging her inside. Her breath deepens and grows ragged again.

I look down at her, at her hair and her lips. They are black and red. I will have her, very soon. I push myself a bit back, lean forward. Now. I will taste her now. She tenses momentarily, then slides forward slowly, letting her pubic hair touch my lips.

Her scent is strong, I long to feel her wetness on my tongue, on my face. Her body is hot under my hands. I will taste her soon.

Caressing her thighs, my hands slide, almost tickling, up her legs. I feel the silkiness of her skin. Yes, now. I take one of her lips, the outer one, into mine, savour the taste. Her wetness is intoxicating, she tastes of salt and of woman and of wonder. I suck on the lip, feeling its slickness. She gasps, but I am gentle, sucking on the lip, playing with it with the tip of my tongue. Her taste drives me, I want more, I want to feel its magic on me, on my lips, on my tongue.

I slither forward, running my tongue over her lips and clitoris -- a brief contact -- and through her pubic hair. Over her stomach, to her breasts. I rub myself on her, letting her wet sex mark me with her scent, her dew.

Her body is hot, firm. Its contours, ridges, softnesses, curves and flats - I touch, slowly, caressingly. And I want to embrace her and lie there, feeling her under me. And yet, I also want to please her, please and tease her body more. Her skin is both salty and sweet--perspiration and mousse. Her nipples are erect, small and dark atop her breasts, the pierced one glinting in the light. I take it into my mouth, suck on it, licking the stud, the nipple, the aureole. Her hand is on my head, pressing down -- and I suck harder, pulling the nipple into my mouth, pressing it with my tongue. I caress her sex, wetting my fingers in her, bringing the dew to the nipple and tasting both together, intermixed.

Her body begins to undulate, up, down, up, slowly. Her taste, her scent! I want more, all. I lick my way back down--through her wonderful bushy pubic hair -- and look at her sex. She is very excited now -- lips are swollen, dark red-pink, wetness glistening between them. I gently squeeze her inner lips together and suck them into my mouth, slowly, letting them slide over the edges of my teeth. She gasps. I let her lips slowly out, then suck them back in, suddenly. She gasps again. And again. Her wetness is salty, I want it all now, and I let my tongue intrude between her lips, slowly slide into her, hot in my mouth.

"Lick my clit," she whispers. I spread her lips with my tongue, lick up and find the little berry. "Ohhhh, harder... " she grunts and I press on her clitoris with my tongue, swirl it, press again. I want to fuck her, but I want to lick more, taste more, have more of her on me.

"Sit on my face, on my mouth," I whisper to her. "Sit on me."

I move from between her legs, lie beside her, and pull her to me. She turns over. Her nipple touches my side, then she slides up, throws a leg over my face. I look up, at her sex, wet and open, as she settles down, her weight pushing her lips onto mine, onto my chin, onto my nose. Her soft, wet lips contrast with her weight. She leans forward, grinding her pelvis onto my face. Grunts.

She starts to rock back and forth, pressing her pelvis on my face, supporting herself on the back of the bed. She is moaning, low and quiet moans, wordless. Her tempo is increasing, becomes choppy. No longer undulating, her thrusts are short, sudden. Her lips engulf mine, her wetness spreads itself, covers my nose, lips, mouth. Even cheeks.

It is hard to get a good angle on her clit, so I just let her rock. Her thrusts are stronger, painful even. I take hold of her hips, trying to guide her angle slightly. Her skin is hot, sticky. Her juices are more pungent now, thicker. She grunts loudly, then suddenly stops thrusting. Her knees clamp around my head as she lets her weight rest on me. I probe inside her with my tongue and feel her contracting, grunting and contracting. I savour her taste, I savour her pleasure.

A moment, two moments later. She tries to rise, but I pull her back on me, my tongue now playing freely, sliding between her lips, Making her gasp and wriggle. Once or twice, I flick a quick and gentle lick at her clitoris. Her gasps are delicious.

Finally, I release her hips and she slides down my body, teasing me with her lips, wet and open, her nipples, mouth. We kiss and she tastes herself on my tongue.

"He's very lonely," she says.

She takes my erection in her hand, and I feel her pulse. Or my pulse. Her small fingers wrap around me. She strokes slowly, experimenting with different pressures. Her hips shift, trying to match her rhythm, but she won't let me lead. So, she wants to explore. And I watch her discover the shape and weight of her on me.

"Do you have a condom?" she asks.

Of course. She helps me put it on, her small hands following mine as we roll the latex down. Or is that LaTeX down? No, stop. Not that joke again. She positions herself on top of me, straddling. I can feel the tip of my penis against her opening as she lowers herself slowly. Sliding down takes time. Or takes adjusting. Both, probably. I watch her face as more of me is inside her.

She starts to move, cautiously at first. Her body shifts as she discovers angles. She tests, pulls back, tries again. My hands grip her hips lightly. She is flushed. She grips me in her and squints her eyes. Is she even liking this me in her?

She picks up the pace. Different depths now. Shallow, then taking more of me. Her breathing changes with each angle. Her eyes half-close. Her breasts and nipples sway in rhythm with the angles.

"Good?" I ask.

"Yeah," she says. "This is... different. Good different."

She continues rocking, searching. Or, me searching in her. The friction is building, everything tightening. It is fun, watching her like this. Her face flushes, her mouth opens slightly. Her breasts move. My hips rise to meet hers and I pull her down onto my penis.

"You fuck me so well," I say. My voice sounds rough.

She pushes back, down, and I grip her hips tighter. I pull her down onto my penis. She continues rocking, searching. Or, me searching in her. The friction is building, everything tightening. It is fun, watching her like this. Her face flushes, her mouth opens slightly. Her breasts move. My hips rise to meet hers.

"You fuck me so well," I say. My voice sounds rough.

She grins and grinds harder. I look between us, at her pubic hair moving together with mine. Her stomach, above it. I want to see me in her, pull her up to glimpse my penis in her, between her lips.

I pull her up, higher. "I want to fuck you from behind." She nods and gets off me. Kneels. Her lips peek from between her pubic hair - they are open. I stand on my knees behind her. I can see her small buttocks, her back, the curve of her spine. Ah, best! I caress the pink lips with the tip of my penis, and push in. Listening to her small gasp.

I lean on her buttocks with my hands, moving slowly in. She tenses as I move further in, relaxes as I move out. I can feel her muscles contract on each thrust. Her buttocks, they clench too.

"You okay?" I ask.

"Yeah," she says. "Don't stop."

I don't. Best push and shove, this. Push. Shove. Pull. Shove. Her muscles clench. I slide my hand over her side, to her stomach, caressing her stomach. Searching through her pubic hair. I can feel myself in her, with my hand. I can feel her around me, with her muscles.

"You're so wet," I say. "You're so fucking wet."

I push, shove into her. My fingers in her pubic hair. Touch her clit. Press on it. She gasps. Press again and shove. She gasps again. I push as much as I can and press on her clit. She gasps and freezes.

"Stop," she says, and I stop.

"It's not that. I want your mouth again."

She moves, turns around. My penis flops out, like a rejected mackerel. Back to headboard, she spreads her legs and gestures to her open lips. They glisten with her wetness, and mousse and the condom's lubrication. Pubic hair, wet and spread like anemone fronds away from the lips, swollen and dark. Do they really look thicker? I lie between her legs and inhale her scent. She guides my head down.

My tongue finds her lips, traces the shape of her. I taste the condom's latex as I lick up to her clit. She gasps and gasps again as I lick down. Tries to follow my tongue. Bolero, that's the rhythm. Instead of a lick, I exhale against her clit and plant a sloppy kiss right on it.

I lick again--quick strokes. She gasps and moves toward me. But before she settles into it, I switch back to kisses. Soft kisses. Lick and kiss. And then - kiss and kiss. Or is that the other way around. She can't anticipate the switch. She tries to follow me with her hips, adjust to the rhythm. Back and forth.

Lick. Kiss. Lick. Kiss. Faster. Her breath grows ragged. She moves her hips to meet me, trying to anticipate but unable to. Her thighs tremble. Her hands find the pillows and clench them, knuckles white. I keep the rhythm. Lick. Kiss. Lick. Kiss. And then she breaks.

Her whole body contracts. She gasps, her hand pressing my head against her hips, hard. A fist twists the pillow. I continue, my tongue moving through the contractions.

When the waves finally subside, she sits straight and smiles at me. I am sitting between her legs, still hard.

She looks down and purses her lips. "Masturbate for me. I want to see you ejaculate."

I pause, then nod. Not a first for me, no. But I do wonder what she'll think. I reach down, remove the condom and toss it on the floor. I move back. "Like?" I ask. She almost nods. Did she nod? But she just continues looking and repeats, "Please? Masturbate?" I wrap my hand around myself and start to stroke, slowly.

She watches. Her eyes track the movement of my hand, the slide of skin. She reaches out with her hand, almost as if to touch me. But no, she lets her hand fall into her lap. Into her pubic hair. Looking down, for a moment, then back up, she slowly starts caressing herself. Almost in sync with me.

My hand moves faster. The rhythm building. I can feel the tension in my body--my thighs, my stomach, my jaw tightening. My breathing quickens.

My body stiffens and I come--not dramatically. A small amount of sperm pools over my fingers. A few drops land on the bed beside my hip. My hand slows, still moving gently. I'm breathing hard.

When I open my eyes, she's looking at my penis. Smiles a weird little smile. Reaches with her finger and touches the head, dipping it into a small bead of sperm. Rubs between her fingers, vaguely repulsed. After a moment, she wipes her fingers on the pillow and looks up at me.

"Shower?" I ask.

"Yeah," she says.

We move together to the shower. Under the warm water, we wash each other. I trace her shoulders, her back. She moves across my chest, my arms. The water runs warm between us. I think about the shape of her body under my hands during the massage. How small she is. How her frame fits differently than I expected. I remember her breasts under my palms, the way the pierced nipple felt different. I remember her buttocks, small and round, the way they felt as I moved inside her.

Under the shower now, my hands find these places again. She traces the shape of me, soft now. My hands move over her breasts, her nipples, her buttocks. Her hand comes up to my face, touches my mouth. Her other hand wraps around my penis, briefly holding it under the warm water. We stand there under the warm water, trading these small caresses.

This is the goodbye.

The water runs warm between us. When we step out, we dress quietly. I drive her back to Central Station.