She took a chance. Not knowing if he was the real deal. He seemed nice enough. Very attentive but she wondered if she was repeating an old pattern with him.
Well, he had offered and a massage would sure be nice. She worked so hard and she deserved it. But she knew he would probably get horny and try something.
Hoping he might, she asked him to come over.
An hour later, after frantically cleaning then showering, she was naked on a massage table with some guy who could be an axe murderer for all she knew.
But he had kind eyes and she wanted kindness for a change.
His hands moved across her body with a knowing strength. He knew how to relieve her tensed and bunched muscles. She kept thinking this might be a mistake, to be here with this man. They had only just met. But she felt her trust build as his voice washed over her and he paid attention.
My god he paid attention. So intensely as his eyes never left hers. He even remembered where she left off her story when they were interrupted by the waitress at dinner two nights ago.
He really was listening. "This is new", she thought. It can't be real. But his eyes kept focused intently on hers. That was dinner and this was now. An entirely new level of intimacy.
Now she was on 'his table'; his realm and he knew it.
Relaxing slowly, she began to give herself over to the need to be touched. She felt the expert way he found sore spots and hidden hurts relieving them with deft fingers.
He was, above all, respectful and caring. But this was only a massage, right? It would end and he would go, after he saw her flaws. Once her body was revealed, he would run.
But he stayed.
And he never let his focus pull away. He stayed. Touching her. Feeling her.
And she gave in even more.
He asked if she was comfortable. He checked in with her. "Who does this with such masterful control?" She thought. Head to toe, he had done a thorough professional massage.
Moving above her head, looking into her eyes, he asked if she would like him to massage her breasts. This man who she had just met wanted to give her pleasure. Afraid, worried, she swallowed and said a breathy "yes". It's only her breasts after all.
He took his time. No quick rush to awkwardly fondle like some teenage virgin.
He knew where and when and how hard. God, she needed this.
Oiled hands moved across her breasts, touched her nipples, rubbed her "mother's battle scars" he called them. Said they were a badge of honor. He took his time, she became warm and wet as she felt her lust rising.
He made sure that she felt safe and warm. He asked her if what he was doing felt good.