This is a little story of my first switch over from traditional massage Therapist, to Tantric and Erotic, pleasure providing massause.
The room was dimly lit, the warm glow of candles flickering across the walls. The scent of sandalwood and amber filled the air, mingling with the faint hum of soft instrumental music.
I adjusted the sheets on the massage table, my hands steady despite the flicker of anticipation coursing through me, the excitement starting to build.
When Jason walked into my massage studio, I noticed him right away. He was tall and lean, his T-shirt clinging to his chest and arms in a way that suggested he spent more time in the gym than most of my clients. His hair was slightly messy, like he’d just come in from the wind, and his confident, easy smile made it hard to look away.
“Thanks for fitting me in tonight,” Jason said, his voice smooth but low.
“Of course,” I replied, my professional demeanour intact, though my heartbeat quickened, again due to the excitement, I feel every time
“Go ahead and get comfortable. You can leave on as much—or as little—as you like under the sheet. I’ll step out for a moment.”
When I returned, Jason was lying on the table, his body draped in the white sheet. The sight of him—relaxed and vulnerable—stirred something deep inside me, but I pushed it aside. This was my job, and I’m professional, an attempt to convince myself that I can control this feeling.
“Let me know if anything feels uncomfortable,”
Something I say with every client.
When I came back, Jason was lying on his stomach, his broad shoulders and muscular back framed by the soft folds of the sheet. I poured warm oil into my hands and rubbed them together, letting the scent of sandalwood fill the room before I touched him.
The first glide of my hands across his shoulders was electric. His skin was warm under my fingers, and I could feel the tension in his muscles. He let out a quiet sigh as I began working on the knots in his upper back, my thumbs pressing firmly but carefully.
“You okay?” I asked, my voice soft.
“More than okay,” he murmured, his words muffled by the face cradle.
I smiled, my hands moving lower. As I kneaded the tight muscles in his back, I couldn’t help but admire the way his body responded to my touch—how he shifted slightly, his breathing deepening, his muscles loosening under my fingers. When I folded the sheet down to expose the small of his back, I noticed the subtle curve of his hips and swallowed hard.
This was nothing new for me. I’d massaged dozens of men before, but something about Jason felt different. There was a tension in the air—not the kind I was trained to ease, but something heavier, something charged.
When I moved to his lower back, my hands brushing the edges of the sheet, I heard him let out a soft groan. It wasn’t the kind of sound I could ignore.
“You’re holding a lot of tension here,” I said, trying to keep my tone professional.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice low. “You could say that.”
I hesitated for a moment before letting my hands glide lower, my fingers pressing into the firm muscles of his glutes, the sheet carefully folded just enough to give me access. His breathing hitched, and I froze.
“Keep going,” he said, his voice almost a whisper.
My heart raced as I continued, my touch slower, more deliberate. The lines between professional and personal blurred with every pass of my hands, the heat between us undeniable.
Jason shifted slightly, turning his head to look at me. His eyes were dark, his gaze steady. “You don’t have to stop,” he said, a small, confident smile playing on his lips.
“Are you sure?” I asked, my voice quieter now.
“Very.”
Something in his tone undid me. My hands became bolder, exploring his body with a mix of skill and desire. I leaned closer, the scent of him—clean, masculine—mixing with the sandalwood oil. Jason let out another soft moan as I worked his thighs, my fingers brushing against sensitive skin.
“You feel amazing,” he said, his voice rough.
“So do you,” I admitted, my professional facade crumbling.
When he turned over to face me, the sheet sliding down to reveal more of his toned body, the look in his eyes left no room for doubt. “I’ve never felt this good in my life,” he said, reaching up to touch my hand.
I smiled, leaning down so that my lips were close to his ear. “Then let me take care of you completely.”
To be continued
|
