Five Alive

Babes

Sometimes a girl’s gotta take a load off. Work has been a real grind and I’ve got no time to go on dates, or even hook up. The last date I went on, the guy seemed hot but ended up a total snore in the sack. I had to get rid of him quick and spent the rest of evening snuggling with my favorite toys. At least I got a good night’s sleep without a useless person next to me.

But every now and then you want someone else to do the work, you know? I had heard of a spa on the East Side where if you use a promo code, you might get lined up with a masseur who can take care of ALL a girl’s needs. By the way, ladies and gents, a male massage therapist is a masseur, not a masseuse, which is the female form of the word, sheesh.

So after an extra aggravating week at work, I book a session online at the spa and put in the special code in the promo field, #fivealive. I book it for a Friday after work, just in time to slide into the weekend. When I arrived at the spa, I was faintly surprised yet pleased that it was very high-end and gave no hint of any special ladies’ massage. Oh well, maybe I heard wrong and either way, I did need a massage.

The spa offers all salon services, and I was early so was able to squeeze in a quick wax. It hadn’t been that long since my last wax, but I do love the feeling of the warm wax on my privates and especially my ass. I love how smooth and slick my bottom feels after a wax when I soap up in the shower later. It’s all about self care!

After my wax, I have a spot of time to relax in the private lounge area. I’m still wondering if I’ll be getting a special massage, and my hairless pussy tingles a bit thinking about it. After a short while, a pretty 20-something guides me into a massage chamber which looks like any other – softly lit, a padded table, a yoga bolster in the corner, a stand with various oils. The room had a light fresh scent – not overly perfumed with incense, which sometimes gives me a headache. So far, so good.

The 20-something chirps, “Feel free to undress all the way, or if you prefer, keep your undies on, and lie face down with the sheet over your hips.” I answer, “Awesome, thanks.” But I think to myself, ‘Keep my undies on? Not on your life.’ I undress completely and slip underneath the crisp sheet. That moment just before a massage – whatever kind of massage – is the absolute best feeling. You know that for the next 90 minutes, no one can bother you and you’re not responsible for anything. Bliss.

I close my eyes and let out a contented sigh. Just then, there is a soft knock on the door and a muffled voice asks, “Ready?” I answer, “Yes, all set.” The masseur – and it is a masseur, not a masseuse – comes in and with the light being dim, I can barely make him out. I can’t quite see what his face looks like, but the way he carries himself is like a yoga instructor or swimmer, or maybe surfer. Tall and lanky, at ease with his body, congenial. I feel comfortable right away and almost forget about the #fivealive thing.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Pretty good, thanks. Happy to be here.”

“Any requests or special focus?”

“Not really, just you know, everything. Work’s been a drain. I just want to slip away.”

“No problem, we can help with that. I’ll just start with the preliminaries and you can tell me if you like it harder, softer, or any specific areas, cool?”

“Awesome.” (I wonder to myself, is “harder/softer” code…?)

He reaches out to move some tendrils of my hair off my shoulder, a gesture I find sweet and endearing. Aw, bless his heart. Then he pours some oil in his hands to warm up, lays his hands on my shoulders, and slowly starts to knead my tight neck, shoulders, and trapezius muscles. Heaven. His hands are big (hmmm, I wonder what else of his is big), smooth, and warm. He has the perfect touch – strong, but not too hard.

He continues down my back, and drawing the sheet downward modestly, spends extra time on the tops pendik escort of my hips. That part of my body is always a bit ticklish so I let out a little giggle. He hasn’t talked at all since the beginning – another plus – but after my little laugh, he also chuckles and asks, “How did you hear about us?”

“Oh, someone told me about you guys. That the spa offers the full menu of services, which is great because I’ve been looking for a one-stop shop. You know, for body work but also for waxing and what not.”

“Yep, it’s convenient for busy people, for sure.”

By this time, he’s working down the backs of my legs which reminds me to ask “If you can spend some time on my feet, that would be great. I always forget to ask.” He responds, “Oh sure, I can add some reflexology, too.” What a dreamboat.

He starts to work on my feet, paying attention to each toe, strongly kneading the arches which was almost a bit painful but totally worth it for how good it felt afterward. He says, “Yeah, I always ask how people find us. There are so many spas and salons in the city, it’s a wonder how people can choose.”

I’m nearly half asleep from being so relaxed and muttered, “Well, honestly, I was intrigued because my friend gave me a promo code to use for extra-deep treatment. She didn’t really say what that entailed, though.” (OK, that wasn’t exactly true.)

“Hmm, right, I did see that in your sign-in profile. It’s basically a fuller body massage. I can do that for you, if you want.”

I mutter, “Sure…”

At this point, I was so out of it, I barely cared. He’s done with my feet and is working his way back up my legs, his thumbs tracing small, firm circles. When he reaches the bottom crease of my right cheek, he gently folds back the sheet to expose that cheek, keeping the left cheek modestly covered. I am very used to this treatment so it doesn’t give me pause at all.

His thumbs and fingers are now working my glute more intensely, again almost painful but so good. He repeats on the other side, and while his actions have been nothing but massage-proper, I find myself getting a bit turned on. I guess it’s natural if a cute surfer dude is rubbing your ass cheeks…

“Let’s turn you over so I can work your front body.”

He lifts the sheet so I can do this, then replaces the sheet once I’ve done so. He tucks the bolster underneath my knees to support my back and places a lightly lavender-scented eye pillow on my lids. So soothing. Adding more oil, he works my front pretty much the same way he worked my back, palming the muscles of my breast tissues (I’m sure my nipples were hard as pebbles), kneading my thighs, and trailing down to my feet and giving them another round of attention. I am simply putty in his hands, and not like I’m gonna check, but I’m sure my pussy is quite moist.

+ + +

“OK, let’s turn you on your belly again. Your back needs more work.”

“Mmmmm, whatever you say.”

“Do you mind if I remove the sheet so I can have better range of movement?”

“Oh yes, no worries.”

He carefully removes the sheet by folding it onto itself. There is a precision and a deliberate intent to his movements that I appreciate. He starts to run his thumbs from the bottom crease of my ass, traces the outer outline of my glutes, to meet at the top of my glutes. He does this many times, and almost imperceptibly his thumbs are coming closer towards the center line where my cheeks meet.

Then he slowly lifts one hand while keeping the other hand lightly on my sacrum. For a split second I wonder why, then understand when the lifted hand comes back with a handful of oil. Using his hand, he dribbles the warmed oil into the crack of my ass. Oh, my god. Then he starts kneading the inside edges of my ass cheeks, yet not touching my ass hole. My pussy – the mound so sensitive from being freshly waxed – is very wet now, and I wonder if he can smell my sex.

I ask inanely, “What escort pendik kind of oil do you use…?”

“Avocado. The skin loves it, plus it’s edible. The skin is an organ, and you should only use on your skin what you would put in your mouth.” My pussy jumped, and I’m sure my ass hole twitched, too. It hasn’t gotten any love or attention in a long while, poor thing. And did he just use the words ‘mouth’, ‘edible’, and ‘organ’ together?

With his next movement, the thumbs lightly grazed the outer ring of my anus, and I involuntarily let out a small whimper.

“Sorry, was that OK?”

“Ughn, that is very OK.”

He lets out a soft sigh and continue the movement. Again, the progress is very gradual. I am lost in a daze and can’t even hold a thought. After 5 minutes (more?), I realize he’s alternating a thumb tip in my anus with each revolution, but somehow this feels natural and in keeping with the massage.

“Would it be OK if I put this bolster under your hips? It will be more comfortable.”

“Uh, OK.” Oh, my god, what.

I awkwardly prop up on my elbows and knees to lift my hips so he can slip the bolster underneath. I am thankful for the dim lighting, because as body-proud as I am, I felt so dopey on the table with my ass in the air. I lower my mid-section back down, and he must sense my sheepishness because he puts one hand on my sacrum (I read somewhere that this calms babies, the hand on the sacrum thing) and the other hand smooths down the back of one thigh then the other. He’s the epitome of a caring practitioner, but with benefits.

With the one hand still on my sacrum, the other hand is slowly rubbing its way back up, up, up until the hand is nestled at the apex of my ass, since it’s angled up towards the ceiling. I feel delectably exposed. His middle finger gently dips into my soupy pussy and commences to massage it, then gently probing inside the lips to penetrate my cunt, every now and then pulling out to slide down to my clit for a slow rub. I’d like to think he appreciates my smooth pussy and ass.

The other hand has moved towards my ass, and that middle finger is rhythmically probing my ass hole now. I am drooling onto the massage table and writhing my raised hips uncontrollably.

He then slowly draws his hand from my pussy, takes one cheek in each hand, spreads my globes open, and lightly blows on my crinkly ass hole. I let out a low growl that I’m sure is audible if there is someone in the next room. He does this a few more times than dips the tip of his tongue right in my star. Oh, my fucking god. Five alive, yes!

He flicks my star lightly for a bit, then starts to really go to town on my ass. He is alternatively finger-fucking and tongue-fucking me. I dearly love to get rimmed, but the combo is amazing because the finger has a roughness I like, then to regain the stiff smoothness of the tongue is absolutely amazing. And going back and forth is almost more than I can bear.

I am salivating and really want to taste his cock. He’s standing by the side of the table so I can easily reach his crotch. I rub the outline of his cock encased in boxer briefs through his loose linen pants. He’s fucking huge. I’m going to say 8 inches so not crazy long, but really thick. I wonder if I can even close my hand around it.

“Please let me taste your cock. I need something in my mouth.”

“You know, I would love to, but this treatment is all about you.”

“Well, then I would have to insist that you massage my mouth with your cock.”

He exhales audibly, loosens his pant with one hand, and makes his way towards the front of the table. It’s dim in there, so I go mostly by feel, and wow, is there a lot to feel. His sculpted cock is a work of art. Knobby tip and veiny. I draw up as much saliva as I can muster, stretch my mouth around his cock, and immediately start to suck on it with long pulls. I can’t even be bothered with the teasing cockhead licking thing pendik escort bayan I usually start with. His cock must be 2 inches across and I’m blowing him so hard, my eyes tear up from his cock knocking against my sinus cavities. I imagine how that cock would feel in my ass. Would need a lot of lube, for sure.

He’s a tall guy so he can still reach my hips with one hand, while he intertwines the fingers of the other hand in my hair, gently holding my head to his crotch as I bob on it. He reaches for more oil and adds a second finger into my ass. I reach down and play with my clit. It’s awkward with the bolster, but needs must! He is finger-fucking me hard now, my ass hole making an obscene slurping noise with all the oil. Their laundry bill must be crazy here.

His hips are starting to move faster. “I’m gonna cum down your throat if you keep this up. This massage was supposed to be about you.”

I pull off his cock and reply, “Again, if it’s all about me, then you really should give me what I want. And right now, what the client wants is a mouthful of warm cum.”

He groans and pulls my hair harder as he bucks into my face, no longer the gentle caregiver. The hand in my ass is working furiously, my ass humping up to meet it. With my one hand, I reach to massage his balls and let my longest finger lightly press into his ass hole. My palm feels the upward lift of his testicles, the telltale sign of his impending climax. He mashes my head into his crotch and lets out a stifled groan, while unloading his balls onto my tongue. I slurp up his cum and swallow greedily while still loving on his cock with my mouth, slowing down the tempo while gyrating my hips into his hand.

With his breath still ragged, his bucking hips finally quiet down. He slowly slides out of my slobbery mouth, and in the dark, I make a small pout of regret.

“Now, let’s wrap up that #fivealive for you.”

I smile to myself, understanding he knew all along.

He slowly makes his way back to the side of the table, the best vantage point to tend to my womanly parts. With the old gentle touch, he plants soft kisses on my buttocks then pauses to reach for the stand with all the massage gear. I wonder what he’s reaching for since my ass is already bathed in oil. He presses something a bit rubbery on my clit, and I hear the familiar click of a vibrator. Full service, indeed.

He motions me to flex one of my knees so that the inner thigh is on the bolster, giving him full access to my pussy, clit, and ass. He sets to licking my pussy and ass while working the clit with the vibe. Heaven. He alternates blunting his tongue in my pussy or my ass, or his fingers in my pussy and a finger or two in my ass. It was all a blur, and I’m sure this bolster will have to be washed after this.

Just when I think I will pass out from the sheer pleasure, he switches the vibe on high, plunges his tongue in my cunt, and wedges three fingers in my ass. If I died right now, I would be OK with that. My climax mounts gradually in me, and I come, longer and harder than I’ve ever come.

“Oh yes, yes, yessssss, fuckkkkk, oh god, oh god, oh Jesus.”

I can feel my ass convulsing helplessly around his bunched-up fingers. Oh dear Lord, I am an oily slutty mess, and I love it. I sigh and softly moan into the table, my cunt pulsating, my clit tingling, my hips still faintly grinding onto the bolster.

He slowly slides his fingers out of me, his lips and tongue still gently tending to my pussy, throbbing clit, and pliant asshole once the fingers are out. He rests his hands on me a while afterwards, as if to calm me, ever the caregiver.

Once I’m completely motionless, he draws back up to standing, pulls out a warm damp towel and proceeds to wipe me down, being extra gentle with my mound and anal area. He puts all the linens in the hamper, pulls out a fresh crisp sheet, and lays it on top of me. His hand on my sacrum again above the sheet, he leans down to give me a friendly kiss on the cheek and says, “No rush. I always book extra time for resting afterwards. Next time, use code #fivealiveplus. Ask for Clyde.” He quietly pads out and softly closes the door.

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