Continued from "The Yoni Massage"—read that first if you want the whole story.
*****
Rachel took me by the hand, helping me to hop off of the massage table. She then escorted me to the exit from her business and led me up the stairs to her apartment. It must have been an interesting sight to see—a gorgeous topless mature masseuse leading a completely naked mature by the hand up the stairs. My body still tingled from Rachel's expert touch, and I was partially excited, partially nervous, about what was in store next.
We reached the entrance to Rachel's and Steve's apartment and she let herself in. It was small but tastefully decorated, filled with artifacts from years of travel—African masks, Asian wall decoration, European knickknacks. Steve was nowhere to be seen—perhaps he was in the kitchen or another room in the apartment.
I continued to scan the room as Rachel led me down a short hallway towards what I assumed was their bedroom. She opened the door, confirming my assumption. Their bedroom was elegant, a large, king-sized bed dominating the far wall, expensive coverings atop the generous mattress and decorated with perhaps a dozen pillows. She led me to the bed and told me to sit down, which I did.
"Lie back," she said. "Use one of the pillows if you need it." I did as she was bid, watching Rachel standing in front of me, her full breasts impossible to ignore. She smiled at me, and began to work her loose, colorful skirt down her hips, wiggling them playfully as she lowered the clothing inch by inch, revealing neat, lacy panties adorned with bows.
I watched her and smiled, this gorgeous creature hovering near me, her perfect body tantalizing me, my body reacting favorably to the spectacle in front of me. The fingers of my right hand wandered idly through the tuft of curly hair between my legs, tugging lightly on a few random strands. She rested her knees on the bed and took off her glasses, setting them aside. I looked into her piercing green eyes and saw her facial expression change from one of flirty playfulness to one of desire—lust, even.
Her head hovered above my sex, her eyes still locked on mine. She blew cool air on my folds, causing me to writhe a bit in response.
"Are you sure about this?" she cooed, "Because when I start, I'm not going to want to stop."
I nodded silently, anxious to be touched, to be stimulated, to let go and lose myself in some form of bliss.
Rachel smirked, and softly lowered her face between my legs, her hands gently resting atop my thighs. "So be it," she whispered, and I raised my legs in anticipation of receiving her attentions.
She planted a soft kiss on my mound, looking up at me to see how I would react. I could only stare wordlessly. Another kiss on my tuft, and she moved her left hand between my legs, parting my wet folds softly with a fingertip. She teased and tantalized my petals, and I bit my bottom lift softly as I watched her work. Finally Rachel moved her head further south, coating my entire sex in a single, slow, wet lick.
Rachel used her mouth and tongue expertly, first circling my vulva, leaving soft kisses around the circumference. Her fingers continued to just graze the edges of my lips, a near-tickle. I exhaled deeply and closed my eyes. She then sucked my folds into her mouth, tasting me, tugging and nibbling lightly, pushing her finger into me more fully. I ran a hand through her soft curly hair and used my other to pull my left leg flush with my chest. Rachel's lips kissed and licked by labia, the sensations almost overwhelming to me. But I held it in, fighting the urge to explode then and there.
Her free hand pressed on the back of my thigh, her nails raking lightly along my skin, her head between my legs. I pushed on the back of her head, longing for her to explore me more deeply. She moaned into my opening, drawing in my fluids as she added a second finger to her wet exploration.