massage

I started a small company with a friend making things a few years ago. At one point, a woman called us, wanting to do a trade for one of our products. She was a massage therapist.

My friend, who had, as she put it, always wanted to have an "experience with a woman," laughed when she told me about this - the massage therapist was a lesbian - and she asked me what kind of of a "trade" I thought we should offer.

Later, that evening, I drove in the pouring rain to get my massage. While I drove, I thought about my business partner and what it would be like to sleep with her. We had come close several times. I had been dating a string of women who were all very athletic, ambisexual types. Jock-girls, another friend called them. (Strangely, the men I dated were fabulously straight - muscled, beer-drinking, hairy-chested, stay-away-from-my-ass kind of men. Go figure.)

But she was not at all a jock-girl. She was, in fact, very much like me - slim, arty-looking, and definitely feminine. So for some reason, the idea of touching her felt odd. Like touching myself, I suppose.

When I got to the massage therapists house, I had to run for the door, but got soaked anyway. She opened the door, and I smiled inside. Just my type. Tall, tan, fit, boyish. She took me up some stairs to a musky smelling room filled with candles. How very perfect.

Her hands were as strong as they looked. She did a form of Thai massage, so she was lifting my arms and legs up, gently stretching and pulling me, bending me at the waist and using her entire body to press me over or lengthen my muscles. At times, she was so close, I could smell her breath (minty) and her hair (Aveda).

After a few minutes of this, she laid me back down, smoothing out my hair, and then took my right leg out from under the white sheet she had just put over me. She started at my toes, and slowly worked her way up, kneading and pressing. I was in a sort of daze, but when she started moving up my inner thigh, I woke up. Way up.

She slowed down and began to go a bit deeper. I was reminded of a game I used to play with my girl friends when I was little where I would close me eyes and hold out my arm, palm up, and my freind would slowly draw her finger from my wrist up towards my shoulder. The point of the game was to guess when she got to the crease of the elbow. NOW, I would say, always too soon.

So I was thinking NOW! NOW! But she kept moving up, until she was smoothing her fingers over the crease where my leg meets my pelvis, a mere breath away from my most definitively awake pussy.

She did this for at least a minute, which felt like an hour, and then stopped, pulled the sheet back over me, and started on the toes of my other leg. I reminded myself to start breathing.

This time, though, as she moved slowely up my calf, working the tendons, sliding under my knee, I found myself thinking about my business partner. I was supposed to meet her at her house after the massage to talk about something. She said she might be in the shower when I got there. I imagined her, freshly showered, lying in her bedroom, which she always kept very spare and clean.

By now, the massaging hands were back up next to my pubic bone. I was no longer even trying to hide how much I was liking this. I could hear her breathing change, too. She began to let her fingers slip a bit, which wasn't hard considering the state of things, and my hips rose to meet her.

One lovely thing about sex with women - they know, for obvious reasons, exactly what to do. She had a finger in my pussy and a finger in my ass before I knew what was happening. When I took a breath to say something, she bit me lightly on my nipple, and I gasped a bit and managed to say something about getting my money's worth, which made her laugh.

This part would be really hard to describe without some kind of, um, visual aide, but she sort of vibrated the finger in my ass while she slid another finger in my pussy and began to sloooooowly finger fuck me. And then, her mouth was on my clit, and it was all over. No searching for the clit, no working around the clit, just her tongue, right on it, right away. She flicked it a few times, fucked me deeper, and then started up a steady thrumming, all while somehow managing to keep up some kind of counter rhythm with the finger, or was it now fingers, in my ass.

I can honestly say, that with the exception of the one I was about to have later that same night, this was the first orgasm that felt like it would never stop coming - like my body was splitting open and I was just spilling out everywhere.

When I got back in the car, I knew exactly what I was going to do. I drove through every red light to get to my friend's house. When I knocked on the door, her roommate let me in and said she had gone to bed. I stopped for a minute outside her door, but only for a minute.

She was exactly where I had imagined her, and I stripped and crawled in, my body still coated in the oil from the massage. There was no conversation - she knew immediately what was going on. And the best part? This was, and is to this day, the best sex I have ever had.

I thought I would have to take the lead somehow, but she immediately crawled on top of me, licking and sucking my breasts, sliding her hand between my legs. I loved the feeling of our bodies together, each exactly the same size as the other, both slick and sweaty, completely flexible, and so soft.

I came, and then she came. We could not get enough of each other. She pushed me back down and pulled out one of her toys, easing it slowly into my soaked pussy while fingering herself. I squeezed her nipples while she fucked me. She pulled out and sucked hard on my clit. I came a second time, now half off of the bed, crying. I couldn't stop crying for several minutes.

We lay there trying to catch our breath for a minute, and then I pulled her on top of me. She was smiling now. Eyes locked, we just moved together, clits sliding over flesh, until she whispered, I want to cum with you. And we did. Barely moving. I could feel her shuddering for a long time.

I love cocks very much, and men are ok, too (!), but there is a certain quality about fucking a woman - especially fucking a woman who really knows how to fuck - that cannot be easily described. And I don't mean the pure crap you see on the "lesbian" porn videos aimed at men, where the straigtest girls known to man stick their long-nailed fingers into each other's shaven pussies and moan for the camera. I mean, two woman who actually want each other.

We never, ever did that again. We never even talked about it. She is married now and I never see her. But she holds the record.