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Bob's Massage
I was surfing the net the other day, and what should I find but a posting from
an archive site of a story I had completely forgotten about. I wrote this quite
some time back, so I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed finding it!
This story is copyright (c) 1990 Rajah Dodger. Electronic reproduction rights
are explicitly granted with the stipulation that this authorship and permission
note must remain attached.
Bob was a financial analyst for a large downtown bank. He had been having a lot
of back and neck trouble lately, and one of his colleagues had recommended he
get a rubdown to reduce the tension. His friend even gave Bob a card for a
massage therapist he had used.
Bob didn't think much of having someone pounding on his back, but his pain
wasn't getting any better, so he finally called the therapist, whose name was
Dorothy, and made an appointment to go to her office. She had a small office in
one of the towers. Bob watched the street traffic through the window until the
receptionist called his name.
He was directed into a changing room, where he hung up his business clothes,
stripped down to undershorts and put on the hospital-type smock that was lying
over a chair. He opened the door in the back of the changing area, and entered a
surprisingly well designed office. There was a large working desk with a
computer and phone and a comfortable leather high-back chair dominating one
corner of the office, while the massage table stood off on the other side, a
large padded and hinged affair with a metal cabinet beside it.
Dorothy (he reminded himself of her name) rose from her desk as he walked in and
crossed to shake his hand. She was a smallish woman in a white starched blouse,
with dark eyes and brown hair in a pageboy cut. She came up only to Bob's
forehead, but her muscular arms added to a commanding presence. "You won't be
using those shorts," she informed him, pointing at his groin, "they get in the
way." She pointedly turned his back and Bob uncomfortably pulled his shorts off
from under the smock. She had him lie down on the massage table, opened the back
of the smock and flipped a towel over Bob's ass, relieving his embarrassment.
For the next few minutes she probed, squeezed and manipulated every muscle he
knew of from the base of his spine to his neck, and several he hadn't known
existed. During the procedure, she poured some hot oil into her palms and used
it in the massage. Bob started to relax - he was beginning to see why his friend
had recommended the massage.
Dorothy worked on his spine and gradually broadened her range to include his ass
and the tops of his legs. Bob relaxed as the warmth spread through his skin and
body. He opened his eyes in surprise when some of the hot oil dripped down
between his ass cheeks, then gasped as something was quickly popped into his
ass. "What the..." he began, but Dorothy silenced him with a curt "It's part of
the treatment. Don't argue."
She rolled him over onto his back, and his cock rose unbidden, not just from the
feeling of the butt plug in his ass. While he had been face down Dorothy had
removed her blouse and bra. She was nude from the waist up, showing firm large
tanned tits with wide areolae and long nipples that begged to be sucked. She
used those tits now, drenching them in the hot oil and wrapping them around his
foot, massaging his legs. Her hair tickled his balls when she was near the top
of each leg. She moved around the table and leaned over his head from behind,
swabbing his cheeks against her tits. He stuck out his tongue to catch a taste
of her, and she didn't tell him to stop.
She moved back to his legs, tugging them apart and using her hands on the inner
muscles. She had him bend his legs, knees in the air as she probed and prodded
his flesh. His cock lay heavy and turgid on his stomach during all of this,
jerking occasionally as she pressed on a particularly poignant spot. It came
back to full erection (and Bob nearly jumped off the bench) when she stuck her
tongue out and made contact just below his balls.
Dorothy took what looked like a small rubber ring and rolled it down to the base
of his cock, then blew on the head so it bobbed in the air like a carnival
balloon. Bob gritted his teeth at the (not unpleasant) sensation, which was
followed by the strange feeling of Dorothy's tongue probing down between his
thighs. He held onto the edge of the massage table with his hands as her tongue
moved lower still, and he gasped as she moved the ass plug slightly in and out.
Dorothy moved back to his head, sitting spread-legged above him and lowering her
moist hairy cleft onto his face. He got the idea and started licking. She moved
from side to side as he worked his tongue from her clit to her pussy, and she
stroked his cock until he could feel it throbbing where the ring at the base
prevented anything from coming out. She held her cleft right over his mouth for
a minute, her thighs quivering, and as he sucked on her clit she worked the ring
off his cock. His deprived balls exploded with a series of spasms that almost
wrenched his thigh muscles, hitting her face, her breasts, his chest, the table,
the floor, and who knew what else. Every time he thought he was through, the
feeling of the plug in his ass or the smell of her pussy on his nose would
trigger another cumshot. Finally he slowed down to a few random dribbles.
Dorothy took a warm damp towel and cleaned off her tits, did the same for his
body and rolled him onto his side. She dribbled warm oil onto him and rubbed it
in from his neck to his toes, paying particular attention to his balls and ass.
She wiggled the ass plug from side to side, then tugged on it and popped it out
quickly. Bob gasped at the sudden empty feeling, but Dorothy's fingers were
there to fill the void, probing, touching, stretching. She pressed something
that felt bigger than the plug into his ass, and he rolled his hips to make room
as she turned and twisted the dildo. She moved it in and out as she stroked his
cock with a slick, knowing hand. Finally the probe hit a sensitive spot and Bob
came again, legs flopping wildly on the bench as Dorothy aimed his cum into a
small jar.
When his body quit jerking, she toweled the sweat off him and rolled him onto
his back. She rubbed his stomach muscles and legs, pointedly leaving his groin
area alone, and moved down his legs to his feet. She poured some of his cum from
the small jar into her hands and used that as a lotion for Bob's feet, working
it in until his feet were slimy, sticky and slippery from the combination of cum
and sweat. Dorothy lifted his feet and, holding one in each hand, used them to
massage her proud breasts.
She pressed her nipples between his toes and treated the balls of his feet as
living vibrators, transferring their cum-lotion to her tits as she rubbed them.
Bob started getting aroused again as she rubbed her hard breasts with his feet,
and when he was stiff enough Dorothy changed her position, riding him facing his
feet. She hunched up and down, her fingers finding erogenous zones in his toes
and feet, until she was bouncing hard and started coming, her taut pussy
squeezing his cock and milking a last spurt or two from his overworked balls.
When she caught her breath, Dorothy brought out a warm damp cloth and gave Bob a
cleansing rub all over, then gave him a towel to use before he got dressed. As
he was taking a couple of fifty-dollar bills out of his wallet, Bob decided that
his job was so stressful he might need a massage on a regular basis!
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