Every year for Valentine’s Day my husband asks, “What do you want?” I think it’s because he wants me to say, “Nothing.”
Ha Ha Ha! Every year I ask for a massage. As a mother of three under the age of eight, I need to relax and a massage not only soothes tense muscles, but it gets me away from my stressful environment for a while. You know the one where you can’t take a shower or use the bathroom without someone interrupting you.
So as your treat today I’m giving you a short steamy massage story and offering a chance to win a five dollar gift card from All Romance EBooks.
For your chance to win – Just “like” my Facebook page and follow my blog, then leave a comment with your email to follow-up and tell me what you like for Valentine’s Day.
Moore Massage by Casea Major
Story One from Moore is Better Series
If you have more stress you need Moore massage!
WARNING: This story contains explicit sex and language some may find offensive.
Staring in the mirror, Candace James smoothed her raw eyebrows. The dim lighting of the Grand Spa’s restroom didn’t detract from the redness the waxing created, but Denise was the best esthetician in the city.
Having received her relaxing facial, she left the restroom and headed for her deep-tissue massage with the new girl, Cary. Hopefully, the gal would be a good as Jessie. God, that woman had worked miracles on her back and shoulders. She was the main reason Candie was
now a once-a-month massage addict. She sighed. Too bad Jessie quit to have a baby.
She shuffled down the quiet hall in her terrycloth robe and house shoes. The soft plush fabric brushed enticingly against her bare skin.
A short athletic looking girl with curly brown hair called to her from further down the hall, “Ms. James?”
Candie nodded.
“I have you set up in the Peacock Room. Please make yourself comfortable. Cary Moore, our new therapist will be in to check on you in a moment.”
“Great.” Her shoulders quivered at the thought of skilled fingers working out the kinks of her stressful life.
Owning her own employment agency was a dream come true. But being a small business owner came with the price of long hours and stress. Not that she was complaining. She loved her job and the people she worked with. Reading people was her gift, and fitting those people with rewarding employment opportunities her calling. Every person had a place. But the time they took didn’t allow her much of a social life. At least not a sustainable social life, so her ex-husband told her. The divorce was final nine months ago.
Living without a man wasn’t difficult. She provided for herself well enough. Better than that even. But she missed the intimacy of having a lover. Not necessarily the sex. Well, okay. Maybe the sex a little.
She stepped into the Peacock Room, a soothing experience in cool teal, blues and greens. Breathing in the herb-scented air, she smiled, her muscles already relaxing. She removed the robe and lay face down on the table, covering her bare behind with the soft Egyptian cotton sheet.
The smooth jazz was a delightful change from the new age soundscapes Jessie used. So far, everything about Cary’s room pleased her. She closed her eyes and took in the soothing comfort.
A brisk knock and the door opened. A rush of cool air blew across her skin, and chill bumps rose on her arms. Her nipples hardened into uncomfortable peaks. She took several deep breaths and closed her eyes. Oh, she so needed this.
A strong hand touched her arm. Its warmth soothed her chills. Her body melted into the cushioned table.
“Hello, Ms. James. I’m Cary Moore,” a deep male voice drawled.
Her eyes flew open, and she lifted her head. “Wh—What? You’re not a woman.”
Her gaze met the intense stare of two sapphire eyes, set in a smooth tan face framed by dark hair. He smiled, and her heart skipped a beat then did the cha-cha.
“I get that a lot. Does my being a man make you uncomfortable?”
Shit. He was hotter than molten lava. Tall with broad shoulders that pleasantly strained the fabric of his t-shirt. “Well, I—I usually….”
He tilted his chin and pinned her with his gaze. “You usually, what?”
She gulped and stared. Oh for God’s sake, Candie. He’s just a guy. A hot guy but still a guy. Who’s about to touch every inch of your naked body. She sucked in a long breath.
“Ms. James, are you all right? Would you like some lemon water before we start?”
“Huh?” The words finally registered in her mind and she realized she’d been staring. “Oh, no. But I—I don’t think….”
His eyes never left her gaze, and his bright smile turned to a wolfish grin. Tingles shot through her core. He squirted a healthy amount of lotion in his palm and slowly smoothed it across both hands. The scent almost visibly wafted through the air and into her nostrils, intoxicating her with calming lavender and mint. “Do you have any particular problem areas you’d like me to concentrate on?”
Her jaw dropped open, and her face flushed with heat. The first place that came to her mind was highly inappropriate.
As if he’d heard her thought, he chuckled. The sound shot through her like an erotic arrow. A thin sheen of perspiration covered her, and blood pumped wildly through her body. At least she wasn’t cold anymore, but her hardened nipples still throbbed. She dropped her head into the face pillow and whimpered. Trouble.
Get a grip. He was a professional. She was a professional. There was nothing inappropriate or out of line about the situation. It was the Grand Spa for God’s sake not Jerri’s Massage and Modeling on Harry Hines.
He stood at her head. She stared down at his jean-clad legs through the hole in the head pillow and tried to regulate her heartbeat. His hands touched her back and rubbed from her shoulders down to her waist. His fingers pleasantly sank into tense muscles like tiny tasers emitting shocks of electrical current at each point of contact. She gasped.
He splayed his strong hands over her spine and shoulder blades, kneading and rubbing in deep methodical strokes. “Take slow, deep breaths and release.”
The calm baritone drawl glazed her conscious thought, but his touch heated intimate places. Her breaths were nowhere near slow and deep. In fact, she was panting like her golden retriever, Busby, after a run in the park.
He continued to work his magical fingers over her knotted muscles. Her body continued to overheat.
Moving down her back, he massaged her lower lumbar and sciatic areas, his upper arms brushing the top of her shoulders and his chest hovering like a canopy over her.
Candie swallowed hard. Shit. Shit. And double shit. She’d not kept her panties on. She never did with Jessie. Her comfort level with Jessie had allowed her to indulge and let Jessie massage her glutes. And, well…she had actually looked forward to it. The butt massage was the most relaxing part, and she’d never felt self-conscious with the familiar woman.
But with Mr. Adonis and his vibrating fingers…
He gently laid his hand over her covered behind. “You seem very tense. Just relax, Ms. James.”
But his hot hand on her ass didn’t make that possible. She let out a moan.
“I know what you need.” He leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Close your eyes and just allow the sensations to overtake you. No other thought but how my hands feel on your body. Okay?”
She nodded.
He folded the sheet back to uncover her all the way to her knees. She squeaked and shivered at the exposure, but then sucked up her nervousness and tried to concentrate on relaxing. If she tensed her butt, her overwhelming cellulite would become more dimpled. A loud groan escaped her, and she pounded her forehead against the headrest.
“Trust me. You’re a beautiful woman. You need to learn to worship the beauty of your body. I can help you.” His large hands slid over her thighs and rump with perfect pressure. As he pressed her hips into the table and massaged her butt cheeks, two things happened: her body melted, and the space between her legs became more aroused and slicker, wetness dampening her inner thighs and moistening the sheet underneath.
His fingers manipulated and kneaded her ass, circling lower and lower until his thumbs rested between her thighs. She sighed heavily. He was a miracle worker. Even through her nervousness and arousal, the deep penetration of his hands into her most used muscles was like liquid relaxation poured over her.
He spread her legs and lightly stroked her outer labia. Her eyes opened wide, and she stared down at the thin commercial carpet. Her ragged breaths hissed through slightly parted lips. A tremor shuttered down her spine.
“Easy now. Just relax.” His tickling caress caused her to squirm and giggle. He kept up the steady caresses, building her to a place where only full release would satisfy.
“Roll over and scoot down.” His husky voice sent heat waves rushing through her belly into her crotch.
Could she do this? Was it right? Moral? Oh, fuck it. At this moment all she wanted was his continued touch on the intimate places of her body. She rolled over, allowing him full access to her exposed vagina.
“I see your hesitation. But there’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”
Embarrassed? Right now she was so horny if he didn’t bring her to climax she was going to knock him in the head with one of his hot stones.
“In case you’re wondering, I don’t do this for all my clients. Only a few. But you seem to have a special need.” His hand cupped her vagina. “And that need outweighs decorum, right?” He smiled seductively.
Her breath hitched, and her eyes fluttered back in her head. She couldn’t speak but only nodded.
A moan escaped her lips as she scooted her behind down to allow her head to rest on a pillow Cary provided. He slid his hand over her upper body grazing the taut buds of her nipples.
She closed her eyes. “Mmm….”
“That’s right. Just allow the sensations to take over.” His nimble fingers worked over her breasts then slid down past her waist to brush her womanly mound.
“Ahhh…”
“Wonderful vocalizations. Tension can be released through your voice and it’s a great way to encourage your partner.”
Tingles spread through her groin.
“Hold on to your pillow.”
She grabbed the pillow as he took hold of her legs and pulled her to the end of the table. Her legs hung over at the knees.
What was he doing? The waves of pleasure from his touch still gently rocked her body. He rolled his stool to the foot of the table, sat, and positioned her legs over his shoulders.
She lifted her head off the table. “Oh, no. I don’t—”
His hot breath blew a steady stream of air over her lower lips.
“Oh. Ohhh. God.” She threw her head back and thrashed it from side to side. She couldn’t do this. No one had ever…
He chuckled. “Let me pleasure you. Just relax. Take deep breaths.”
The words blew across the moist, intimate juncture between her legs, igniting a fire that begged for release. His hands roamed over her naked thighs as he leaned his face in. Soft caressing kisses whispered through her flesh. Her body melted into liquid arousal, and she allowed the full weight of her legs to rest on his shoulders.
“That’s it, beautiful. Give yourself permission. There’s nothing wrong with a little pleasure release.”
His fingers worked slow little circles up and down her slick folds. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so wet. Her desire continued to build. Her legs pressed against his broad chest. He spread her wider and touched her inner lips with his mouth, nipping the soft flesh, swollen with excitement from his workings.
She sighed and trembled. His mouth rocked her with gentle lapping waves.
He flicked her clit. She gasped and fisted her hands in the Egyptian cotton. His velvet tongue slid through the silky hot trench, flicking and circling the nub that twitched at his movement.
He stopped and lifted his head. “I want you to open your mind and release your thoughts. Speak words that will increase your pleasure.”
“What do you mean?” She panted and lifted her head.
Gazing into her eyes, he said, “Quite simply—I want you to talk dirty. Words you’ve never spoken except in your head I want you to speak. Tell me what you want and how it feels.”
She closed her eyes as her cheeks heated. “Oh.”
Her chest rose and fell in rapid succession. She couldn’t do that. Dirty words didn’t turn her on. Oh, who the fuck was she kidding? She said those words in private as she pleasured herself. Why not with him?
“Tell me what you want.”
“Lick me.”
“Lick you where?”
“Lick my pussy. Ohh.” The words felt decadent. And dirty.
So did his response. He spread her folds and licked the length from clit to opening.
“Oh God. Yes. Lick my throbbing pussy.”
He obviously heard her and obeyed. His languid movements lapped and laved the swollen bud.
“Yes.” She gasped and moaned. “Your mouth feels so good on my wet cunt. My clit is about to explode. Ohh. Ahh.”
He trailed his finger down into her opening and stroked inside with gentle motions. He never sped his pace, and the pressure continued to build. Her pussy was about to combust. It was all so hot. His glorious tongue and the sight of his head buried between her thighs sent her to heaven. The slow thrust of his tongue on her clit and finger in her cunt tightened her inner muscles.
“Oh, fuck me harder with your finger.”
He did. And added a digit.
Stretched in ecstasy tingles shot over her body, and she arched up hard against his face. “Oh soo fucking good.”
The words released her into the air like a lost helium balloon, and she rose in the openness of her desire. Gutteral, animalistic sounds rumbled from her mouth and increased her enjoyment. Clear. Panting. Faster and louder.
He sped his strokes, harder and deeper as he sucked her taut clit into his mouth. She pressed her head back into the table. He sucked her urgently. The world narrowed to his mouth between her legs. The exquisite pleasure built to unbearable levels. Her body shattered and contracted, jerking and spasming against him. “Oh. God. I’m cumming.”
She came hard against his mouth, his fingers drawing a gush of fluid from her pulsing cunt as they fucked her with expert precision.
Slowing, he lessened the pressure. He continued to milk her glorious orgasm for several minutes, allowing her an afterglow she’d never experienced, and it was almost as satisfying as the climax itself. Her breathing evened to normal. But she continued to jerk and contract with the periodic flick of his tongue.
He lifted and pulled her body fully back on the table, covered her with the sheet, and finished the remainder of her massage. She floated above herself in complete bliss, feeling as if she were made of Jell-O.
When he finished, he spoke softly, “There you are, Ms. James. Much more relaxed than before.”
She opened her sleepy eyes and tried to focus.
He grinned impishly. “Should I schedule you for once a month?”
She shook her head and rasped, “How about once a week?”
He chuckled. “You got it. Just call anytime you need Moore.”
Hope you are sufficiently relaxed. Visit our other wonderful blog spots HERE at Just Romance Me.
And if you liked the FREE story. Consider purchasing my hilarious erotic Time Travel from Decadent Publishing — One Knight in Brooklyn
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