A massage and a makeover. What a perfect birthday present. When you woke up this morning, your lover gave you a certificate for your present. You had expected the same old presents. Hell, he even gave you a kitchen appliance one year. Not this year. This year you will be pampered. What to do first.
You decide on the massage first, so you can have your nails and makeup fresh to thank your lover later. You are ushered into a locker room to prepare for your massage. As you pull off your blouse, you notice someone in the room. I walk up to you and you instinctively pull your blouse to your breasts to cover up. "Hi, my name is Sean. I'll be taking care of you today." You can't help but notice how I am looking at you. I hand you a large, baby blue towel. "Once you get undressed, put this on and meet me in the next room."
You sit down and begin to wonder how this happened. You thought a woman would tend you to. Doubts begin to set in about your willingness to take advantage of this portion of your present. Thoughts race through your mind until you decide that anyone working here is a professional and does this all the time. You stand up once again and continue to undress. You are glad you wore your white lace blouse, not because it looks great caressing your large breasts, but because it fastens in the front. As you unclasp your bra, your breasts hang ever so slightly. A testament to your workout regimen. A 22-year-old woman would be proud of these firm breasts.
You unzip the zipper on the side of your skirt and lower it down you silky legs. You decide to leave your white, French cut, lace panties on as a barrier between you and temptation. You wrap the large towel around yourself, covering your body from your armpits to your upper thighs. Damn, this towel is long, but not very wide. You were hoping for more coverage.
Time for your massage. You enter the next room to the sight of my smile. You were too stunned to notice what I look like when we met in the locker room. You judge me to be just taller than your 5 feet 11 inches. Weight lifter. Short brown hair and hazel eyes that seem to have flecks of green and gold sparkling in the fluorescent light. Traveling down my body, you notice I am casually dressed in a gold tank top and loose fitting dark blue shorts. You can't help but notice the front of my shorts seem to be well developed also. My tan legs are large and muscular and I have an athletic looking ass. "Too bad." you think to yourself, "This guy is obviously wrapped up in himself."
"Please make yourself comfortable on my table. I'm just finishing up my preparations." Looking at the table, you wonder which way you are supposed to lie down. Should you lay with your head close to me or facing away?
Modesty prevails and you lie with your feet toward me. You jump at the feel of the towel being pulled from your back. "Sorry, I can't massage you with this on." You relax and let me pull the towel from under your arms. As I open the back of the towel, I say, "I see we have a modest woman here." You had completely forgotten you still had your panties on.
You feel my hands at the waistband. "I'm afraid I must insist on removing these, even though they are VERY pretty." You laugh to yourself. Here is a man you just met literally minutes ago removing your panties and you are letting him. You ease your hips up slightly, just enough to allow me to slide the fabric over your thighs. When your panties reach your knees, I lift your knees one at a time, pulling your panties free from your luscious body. Then you feel and soft smack on your ass and wonder if your ass cheeks are as red as the cheeks on your face. As a consolation, I drape a towel over your ass. You secretly wonder if I enjoyed the view.
You start out with your arms clutched tightly to your sides, the better to keep your breasts from spilling out to your sides. Once again you feel a gentle tug, this time on your hands, pulling them above your head. You feel your breasts slide out from beneath your body. Before you can get embarrassed, you feel my hands on your left arm. I moisten your skin with warm oil, stroking your arm gently, then more firmly. You forget about your exposure and begin to enjoy the sensations of my strong hands on your flesh.
I place your hand on my shoulder and stroke your arm from wrist to shoulder. Slowly up your arm, you notice very little friction against your skin. You wonder how my hands could be so firm and yet so gentle. For the first time you feel a stirring beneath your towel.
I place your left hand down, still over your head and pull both your wrists gently. You feel a slight stretch in your arms and ribs. Then you feel your right hand go to my shoulder for a similar treatment. You allow yourself the pleasure of enjoying the strength of my shoulder without trying to make it obvious. You happen to look up to see me smiling at the sensation.
"Close your eyes and relax. Let me do all the work."
After caressing your arms, I once again stretch your arms and place them at your sides. You feel me leave your side and you look up quickly to see me get more oil. "How can I make you feel good if you won't relax?"
You lie your head down again and wonder what I must think of you. Your thoughts go away at the touch of my hands on your shoulders. Softly, I rub the oil into your skin, preparing it for my ministrations.