Tre's Massage Therapy

When Krysten told me the story of her and Maribel, I was surprised and excited for her. I might have also been a bit bummed out. In the same breath she told me about the best sexual experience of her life (ouch), she said that our nights together would have to come to an end.

It was... challenging to say the least. I put a smile on, stiffened under the soft touch of her lips on my cheek, and went about my day. For the first time in ages, I wished I didn't have to work today. Don't get me wrong, I have the best job in the world. I get to make people feel better and be healed from the aches and pains of life. I get to give pleasure to beautiful women on a scale they had never experienced before. My coworkers are beauties that make boys faint and men stumble. But I had to admit something to myself today: I was a little heartbroken.

I don't think I had felt that way since my high school crush and I parted ways. That had also been an 'almost but not quite' situation. Emmi and I had loved each other, but life was carrying us in different directions and we were never able to consummate our love in any significant way. I had the joy of seeing her mostly naked and writhing underneath my hands, yet I had been too nervous to do anything about it. She had done everything but jump my bones but I had been too cowardly to admit it.

Krysten was another story. I had cum in that woman's mouth more than her ex-husband ever had. I had spent so much time between her legs that my facial hair was a lighter color whenever I let it grow out. I knew that woman's body better than I knew my own. But it was over and I had to respect that.

The week went by in a blur of melancholy and bourbon. My signature appointments came and went, my clients were happy, and I was miserable. The following week I found myself at a pub near the office. The bartender had slid my usual in front of me and I was occupying myself with the rugby match on the TV. I barely understood the sport, but my fellow customers seemed to be invested in the match and it created a lively atmosphere. I was trying to figure out the rules when a tap on the shoulder made me jump.

"Fuck, you scared me," I muttered. Emily sat on the stool next to me with a flourish of her hair. She was still in her work clothes, which in our case was a pair of plain scrubs tailored to fit each employee. Hair up and out of the way in a long ponytail of glistening hair. I'd never seen her wear makeup which Krysten had informed me was unusual for someone from her culture. But I would have had a hard time understanding why she would have ever used makeup considering her perfect skin and gorgeous features.

"Something scary about me?" Her eyes sparkled with the joy of flirting. Emily knew just how attractive she was and more or less used it to her advantage.

"Absolutely. It's the whole 'tri-lingual' thing. No one should be that overqualified and be working for me," I muttered while sipping my drink.

"Why, Tre, do brilliant and confident women make you feel like a little baby boy?" Her voice was mocking but I could tell she was just trying to prod me out of the mood I was obviously in.

"Yup. That's it," I growled and motioned at the bartender for a refill.

"Okay. Enough with the grumpy bear. Come on, what's bothering you?"

"Nothing. Everything's fine. My life is perfect."

"Perfect," she mimicked. "Cause people whose lives are perfect get drunk in the middle of the week."

"I'm not drunk. Yet," I said.

"Well, if you're gonna be getting plastered, at least let me join you," she replied.

"Fine." I didn't have the energy to push back on her offer. We sat in silence and drank while the match on TV ended. As the commentators came onscreen to break down the best plays of the game, Emily leaned over and bumped me with her shoulder.

"Seriously, boss. What's up?"

I sighed and shook my head.

"Is it Krysten?" My head whipped around to look at her in a slight panic.

"No..." I was so convincing.

"I knew you had a crush on her, but I didn't realize you were in love with her," her voice had grown soft with compassion. Heartbreak was never a laughing matter.

"I... I am not in love with her."

"Bullshit."

"I'm not!" I just," I searched my heart as I tried to put complex emotions into clear words. "I miss knowing what I was doing every Friday night. I miss getting to flirt and fuck and be picked at and made fun of and... Yeah, I'll admit it. Krysten is pretty fuckin' great and is incredible in bed. But more than anything," I had to swallow the frog that was threatening to jump out of my throat. "I miss having Someone in my life."

"I get that, ya know," Emily spoke after a short silence. "Just because I've chosen to be a fucking nomad doesn't mean I don't miss having someone in my corner."

"Yeah, I guess that's fair," I said.

"But let me ask you this," she turned and looked me dead on. "Are you happy for her?"

"For Krysten? Hell yeah. She deserves to be happy and the fact that it's with her best friend? Honestly, that sounds like a dream."

"Then if you're more lonely than jealous, maybe it's time to stop moping and start dating." Her words cut into me. How stupid I had been. Instead of isolating myself and being a drag on everyone around me, maybe I needed to do something about my problem.

"Shit. I think you're right," I responded. "You wanna go out with me?" I asked with a grin.

"In your dreams, Trevor boy."

"It's Trent."

"Whatever."

This was a game we had been playing since she had worked on me for a signature session as proof and demonstration of her skills. So with a twinkle in her eye, she clinked her glass against mine and we drank in silence.

A few weeks go by and I'm able to pull myself out of the depressive slump and start to put my whole self into the business. One of my clients had been asking if we did house calls, but we figured keeping our risque activities behind closed doors was better. But one day, a client of mine made an offer that was genuinely hard to turn down. She was a businesswoman in the area who had married into a wealthy family. Her husband was a good 20-plus years older than her and let's just say she didn't marry him for his looks.

"Tre, what will it take for you to come to my office instead of me having to come here?"

"Look, Veronica, it's just how our rules are set up for our safety and yours."

"One thousand dollars."

"I'm sorry, what?" I stuttered.

"Is that not enough?" Her Cheshire smile screamed trouble.

"I just," words were hard to form right now. The idea of being paid $1,000 for the privilege of making a beautiful woman cum all over my hands was staggering, to say the least. "I am a little nervous about where we would have the privacy we need."

"Baby, I'm the CEO. My office will do just fine," she said as she was putting her clothes back on. "Besides, I'm pretty sure my executive team would kill for a turn on your table."

"I have no more space for more clients right now."

"I know, silly," she swatted me on the arm as she spoke. "But just realize, the services you provide? They're being wasted on your current clients. You could be making so much more money you know."

I kept cleaning up the room as she talked. I felt her hand once more as she trailed her fingers across my shoulders. Veronica was an attractive woman, if only for the fact that she could afford every beauty treatment on God's green earth. She had a personal trainer, accountant, massage therapist, you name it. All of which combined to give her the body of a woman much younger than her actual age would testify. At 41 she was my oldest client, but if you could just see her you would understand why a 25-year-old like myself was excited to see her naked every week. Reddish-brownish tresses fell to her shoulders in a pretty but business-like cut. Eyes of blue, the smile of a goddess, and an au natural body combined to make her a very desirable MILF.

"Why are you so desperate to have me come to your office? And in the middle of the workday no less."

"Because after an hour-and-a-half with you, I consistently make some of the best deals of my life," she said. She pressed her body up against mine and my seemingly ever-present boner was revealed to her. Her hand slid down and gently brushed up and down my erection and I shivered in response.

"Do you know how much money I made two weeks ago? I had an initial meeting with some prospective clients from Toronto an hour after your fingers were inside me. I was so fucking relaxed and confident that I managed to close the deal just after the appetizers were finished. I paid you $500 that day," she said. Veronica was a very good tipper in case you couldn't do the math. "And I made five million that night."

"Holy shit," I gasped. Her hand was doing very interesting things to me. But despite the distraction, I was still impressed. I knew she was wealthy, but goddamn.

"And just last week, I had a board meeting scheduled an hour-and-a-half after you had made me cum harder than I could have even imagined," she said as her oiled hand slipped inside my scrubs. Her grip was light and feathery which made my cock jump in response. "And for the first time in my career, I wasn't even a little scared of those old men. I nailed that meeting."

At this point, all sense of propriety had fled my system. Normally I had a 'therapists don't get touched' policy. But there comes a point when the reptilian brain stem takes over and all that is acknowledged is need. So when Veronica started undoing the knot that held my pants up, I didn't stop her.

"So what's it going to be, baby?" Veronica murmured in my ear while her hands slowly inched my pants down. "Do you want to help me make some money on Thursday? Over the lunch hour? I promise I'll make it worth your while."

She slid down to her knees and took my cock in her mouth. I thought I couldn't get any harder but Veronica's tongue made me swell even more. She delivered the perfect combination of teasing with her tongue and sloppy swallowing of my manhood. Her hands and mouth pressed me back into the countertop and I gasped at the sensations she was delivering. But before I could explode in her mouth, she pulled back with a popping sound effect. I opened my eyes and saw this beautiful woman looking up at me with eyes that screamed for a good fucking. I practically whimpered in a wordless request for her to finish me. She smiled and stuck her tongue out while her hand grabbed the base of my shaft, pulling the skin taut. The very tip of her tongue tickled the underside of my dick head. The two sensations combined to make me cum, but in the slowest and most sensuous fashion I could have imagined. Some might have called it a 'ruined' orgasm. I say it was the most intense moment of pleasure, both physical and visual. My cum sprayed and then dribbled on Veronica's face and awaiting tongue. She let it pool in her mouth and then swallowed it in a single gulp. She put my softening prick in her mouth and cleansed it of every sign of orgasm. If she had kept going I'm sure I could have gotten hard for her again. Instead, she stood up, grabbed my phone from the countertop, and opened up the camera app. She turned it on selfie mode and took a picture of my cum on her face. She took my semi-hard penis in her mouth again and took one more picture.

"There. Now you have a security policy. If I mess this up for you, you have goods against me. Sound fair?" She asked. All I could do was nod. "I'll see you at this address on Thursday. Be in my office with your table set up at noon sharp. You'll only have 1 hour to do your work on me, so bring your A-game."

And with that, Veronica Wells, CEO of Wells and Co. Capital, stood up and walked out of the office with my cum still on her face.

I was fucking excited for Thursday.

After clearing a couple of my appointments on Thursday or handing them off to Krysten or Emily, I started planned for the shortened signature massage. I wanted to show Veronica that while she might have blown my mind and topped me like the bad bitch she was, she wasn't the only one able to take charge of a situation. Obviously, I wasn't going to do anything she didn't consent to. I'm competitive, not an asshole.

The rest of the week crawled by and finally, it was time to leave. I grabbed my supplies, some of which had just arrived that morning, and drove off. It took about 35 minutes to get there which left me a short amount of time to get ready. But the secretary was ready for me and brought me right to Veronica's office. I say office, but really it was a suite of rooms that included her own private bathroom (and shower!), a long and comfortable looking couch, and a whole ass conference table with 12 chairs. In spite of these things and other furniture, I still had plenty of space to set up. With just a few minutes to spare, I sat and took a few swigs of water, and tried to regulate my body temperature. I was a little sweaty and I didn't like to start a session off already over warm.

Veronica walked in with a smirk on her lips and a sway to her hips. I greeted her with a kiss on the cheek and wordlessly helped her undress. As she uncovered her glorious body, she sat down on the table and looked intensely up at me.

"I have a question for you, Ms. V," I murmured. My voice was low enough that she had to focus on my voice. "Do you want a normal signature massage just crammed into one hour? Or do you want something new?"

"New?"

"Brand new for us at least." At that point, I pulled some straps out of my bag. The straps ended in velcro loops that were obviously meant to secure hands and feet. Her eyebrows shot up at the sight.

"Damn, Tre. Someone put his big boy pants on this morning."

"We both know why I'm here, Veronica. You want to be the center of attention. You want to feel every little iota of pleasure you can. You want one hour where you don't have to work, be in charge, or know what to do. So if you're willing, I can give that to you."

She gulped, the image of the confident CEO gone with only the woman remaining.

"So if you want this, it can go one of two ways. Either I strap you down and pleasure you how I know you like with regular communication, or I can do whatever. I. Want. To. You. You will only cum when I permit you. And if you cum before I say you can, then you'll be punished in any way I see fit. I will have my way with you and afterward, you will say, 'Thank you, sir.' And the only way I would pause is if you said the word 'yellow,' so we will check in with each other, or 'red,' in which case I will stop and untie you immediately. The session will end there. The choice is entirely up to you."

Without a moment's hesitation, she said "The second one."

I walked up to her, grabbed the back of her neck, and mashed her face against mine for a kiss. She gasped in arousal as I pushed her back down so she was lying flat on the massage table.

She and I both knew something. She wasn't here for a massage. She was here to be fucked.

I slid my left hand slowly down her arm until I was encircling her wrist. I pulled back from our desperate kissing and focused on getting her tied down. It took a couple of minutes to get all four limbs strapped in place. Her arms were pulled back and put above her head so that her chest was fully exposed but her joints wouldn't hurt being held in place for extended amounts of time. She could put her hands together if she wanted but she wasn't able to move her arms. Her legs were pulled apart as far as I dared and strapped together underneath the massage table. If she had been sitting up, it would have been like she was riding a horse. As it was, she lay completely exposed before me. Her vagina was splayed open, showing her already aroused and soaking wet. Her pussy was completely bare, the result of a very thorough lasering. Her inner labia only ever peeked out after a very thorough fingering and multiple orgasms. So all she presented was a slick and pretty slit. Her toned stomach was heaving with excitement along with her chest. Her breasts were on the smaller side, but this meant she had never needed implants in order to keep them perky despite her being 41 years old.

All of this to say, I was absolutely turned on at the sight of this beauty spread before me. I grabbed my coconut oil and drizzled it all over her body, making sure to splash some extra on her pussy. I planned on making her cum so much that her own natural lubricants wouldn't be sufficient to maintain the pace. Veronica was so aroused that she started whimpering at every drop that landed on her.

And then I paused. I went to her desk, her eyes trailing me as I imitated her power move from Monday afternoon. Two clicks later and her phone was in camera mode. Her eyes widened and she was about to say something but stopped herself. My grin widened as I took multiple photos of her glistening body and then switched it to video. I went from the tips of her toes to the crown of her head in a slow sweep of erotic footage. The moment reminded me of the clip of Eva Green in The Dreamers, something many a teenage boy had jerked off to. I watched on the screen as she shivered in anticipation of the depraved things I was going to do to her. This was no massage. This was a fucking.

I put the phone down and began sliding my hands up and down her body, similar to Krysten's technique that she uses to great effect on a number of her clients. The difference being that everytime I encountered a new erogenous zone, I would pause and tease it causing Veronica to pant and thrash against the bindings. When I arrived at her perky tits and razor sharp nipples, I did what I had yet to do for a client. I sucked and bit and licked and ground my lips into those tender nubs. I noticed her body responding to the changes well and I guessed that if I was so inclined, I could have made her orgasm there and then. My hunch was verified when she groaned out a beautiful sentence.

"May I please cum?" Her voice was husky with lust. I let a beat pass before I answered.

"No."

Her growl and jerking body told me that I did in fact need to pause or she was going to cum regardless of her best efforts. That was a move I intended to do a little later in the massage. But for now, I pulled back and let her breathe. But only for a moment as I dove back in, this time focusing on her neck and shoulders. I peppered her with kisses, finding three separate arousal points on each side of her body. Damn, but she was receptive. I knew this wouldn't get her off, but I wanted to bring her to a fevered pitch of desire. As her moans grew into pleas for relief, I went lower and lower on her body licking and kissing until I finally arrived at my final destination. We were thirty minutes into the session and I hadn't yet let her cum. I first feathered her pussy and inner thighs with kisses but soon I was mauling her and making her thank the stars for my tongue and fingers. I could feel her building up and nearing her first climax. I slowed down and made her look at me.

"You have to look at me when I let you cum. But don't you dare do it before I let you, otherwise you are going to be punished in a most delightful way. Agreed?"

"Fuck yes."

"Fuck yes... what?" I said with a mischievous grin.

"Fuck yes, sir."

"Good girl."

And with that I began the 'come hither' motion that has a tendency to make women go wild. I built the pace and combined it with a rapid but light circling of her clit with my tongue. And as expected, Veronica quickly reached the edge of an orgasm. She started sputtering, asking if she could cum. I growled in my lowest register.

"Not yet."

But I didn't stop. I kept up the pace and pattern and Veronica gushed and gushed liquid from her pussy. She groaned and told me she was coming. I kept going and kept her right on the edge. In response her orgasms flowed forth. I was certain that I had made her cum four separate times, but I might have undercounted. When she started tensing up from overstimulation, I backed off.