When I arrived at Emerson physiotherapy clinic this afternoon, Jane, our receptionist greeted me with her friendly smile and, “Hi Melissa. We have a new client for you today!”
“Great! Thanks, Kelsey. Who is it,” I asked, wanting to know if the client was male or female.
“Ann Morley is her name. I think she teaches over at the high school. She is your last one before you close.” I knew the name immediately. I graduated from Highland just over five years ago, starting my new career right after to become a Registered Massage Therapist. And, Mrs. Morley was teaching then as well. Word in the girls’ locker room was that the married Mrs. Morley had a penchant for younger females. Even Lori, the first girl I dated back in grade ten, told me about an “after school” session she had with the teacher in her first year at Highland.
I was relieved that my new client was at least female. You have no idea how many men have heard of “happy endings” and come into the clinic hoping to get one here. They should be calling those dingy places near the airport, not places like ours that specialize in healthy, respectful massages.
Since we are registered professionals, we can lose our license if we offer sexual services to our clients. Off the record, though, I have been part of groups of masseurs and masseuses who have traded both massages and sexual favors. We just do that after hours and it is all “don’t ask, don’t tell”. While I only date females, I must admit it is a treat to have a good cock fill me up – no strings attached.
Anyway, my shift was remarkably normal, since my other clients are long time clients at the clinic and are ones the other RMTs were willing to let me have as the new hire because their schedules are full. Most are middle-aged women whose husbands have benefits that allow them to get sore muscles rubbed down and are easy to work on.
The only male client scheduled on that shift was Mr. Perkins, who gets treated monthly for a sore lower back. His sessions are usually chatty, with some clean humor and funny stories that he throws in. He left feeling much better, and I was down to one more client before my day ended and I would lock up. All of the other employees had already left for the day.
Finally, as I made notes from his visit, I saw that the clock showed just before seven, thus Ann Morley should soon arrive. I removed and replaced the sheets on the massage table with fresh, crisp white ones for Ann. I placed a new cloth for the face rest. Yes, the one with the hole in it to breathe through when you are laying on your stomach.
I heard the chime when Ann entered the office, and made my way out to greet her. The fiftyish woman was dressed as any good school marm would – in a black, knee length pleated skirt and ruffled white blouse, which billowed with what I suspect, would be at least G cup breasts. The chiffon was sheer enough to see the embroidered pattern of the weighty bra beneath. I had forgotten how well endowed Mrs. Morley was until now, as I found myself staring at the coin-sized nubs that poked through both items.
When our eyes met, I gave a wide smile and introduced myself, “Hello, Mrs. Morley. I am Melissa. I will be your therapist today.” I did remember how her large glasses framed a beautiful, rounded face and lush, red lips. Her mom body was typical; a few pounds overweight but still with female curves.
“Hi, Melissa. Only my students call me Mrs. Morley. I heard you had started working here. Please call me Ann.” I was happy to let go of the formalities as I find it that the masseuse-client relationship is much better without them. For a second, I wondered who might have told her I was working at the clinic.
“Alright, Ann, I am glad your chose our clinic, and would like to do an initial assessment if that is okay with you.”
“Sure. What does that entail?”
“It is just a series of movements to see what areas I might work on to be of benefit to you.” I noticed her eyes travel down to my boyish breasts and then down my form fitting leg
“Well, we can go through that, but basically I am here just for the wellness benefit. You know, the soft, caring hands of a young professional.” For those not familiar with the massage trade, wellness benefit usually means the client has no soreness or joint impingements; they are just enjoying an invigorating massage to use up work benefits.
“Excellent, Ann. We will go through the list then you can tell me what you would like me to work on.” I had the woman do various stretches to give feedback as to her limitations and then asked her what she would like done today.
“Well, for sure, calves and thighs. Then neck and shoulders and, of course, wherever you like with the time remaining.”
“Alright then, as you have booked an hour, I will start on your back and work down to thighs and calves. I will be sure to leave time at the end for neck and shoulders.” I drew down the top sheet a bit and advised, “I will give you time to get ready. Leave on whatever clothes you feel comfortable bursa escort with and slip between the top and lower sheet, on your stomach, and I will be right back.”
Ann nodded and I left the room and closed the door behind me. After about three minutes I knocked and asked, “Are you ready, Ann?”
I heard a slightly muffled “yes” and opened the door to see the woman lying on her belly as instructed, her arms by her sides. I said, “If you find it comfortable, there are two rests just below your head for your arms.” I pointed to the padded cushions just beneath her face, and Ann moved her arms to rest there.
“Yes, this is nice,” she offered.
“Whatever feels most comfortable.”
She settled in position and I began a soft warm up across her shoulder blades, letting her body heat up before I apply any pressure. On the chair off to the side of the bed, Ann had neatly piled her skirt, then blouse, and on top were her a matching cherry red bra and cotton thong. On the bedside table, Ann had set down her phone and glasses. As I looked down the sheet covering her, the fabric formed a soft groove between her abundant buttocks.
I took my position above her head and began to softly run my hands along her upper back. Soft moans emanated from her as I asserted medium pressure into the muscles. “You have great hands, Melissa.”
“Thank you, Ann. You can call me Missy if you like.” She just nodded as I found the first knotted muscle on her right shoulder. I added pressure to separate the strands of fiber and Ann went from moan to groan.
“Oh, right there, Missy.”
When I leaned in to reach closer to Ann’s shoulder blade, I felt my thin belly brush against the tight bun of auburn-grey on top of her head. Ann’s hips swayed gently, lightly grinding into the lower sheet.
“How does such a little thing like you get this much pressure going,” she asked. A lot of people have asked that, since I am only 102 lbs and barely five feet tall. My instructors were really good at showing how you only need a little body weight if you get yourself in the right position.
“Just practice, I guess,” I said, moving around to her right side. Here I could focus more on her lats and lower back, but soon after, Ann pulled her arms from the cushion below and let her hands drop along the sides of her body. I worked for a bit there before moving to Ann’s right thigh.
We practice for hours on folding sheets around body parts and limbs, so as to only expose what we need without viewing a nearby private area. I raised the top sheet from around Ann’s right leg and swept it toward her left leg, pinning the material near her hip and then tucking the excess cloth beneath Ann’s left thigh. Her entire right leg up to just below her butt cheek were bare.
Ann’s creamy smooth leg had been recently waxed, free of any hair whatsoever. I applied some oil and began working along the length of her thigh, from just behind the knee up to where her buttocks were covered. I have always found the hairless skin of another female very arousing and find no joy in massaging hairy legs, chests or backs.
Each time my hand neared Ann’s right buttock, she would rock her hips side to side, gently grinding the soft mound just above her clitoris into the bed sheet. Ann’s legs inched wider as well, causing the top sheet to pull more taut and expose more of the nakedness of her inner thigh.
Another squirt of oil made my supple fingers tantalizingly slippery as I slid them along the inside of my client’s meaty thigh. Ann’s moaning became breathy; her exhales softly blowing out puffs of air. I decided that I should move on, and moved down to stroke Ann’s right calf.
“Oh, my God, Missy, I love your hands.” I answered with a snicker, and took Ann’s right calf between both thumbs, kneading the taut muscle, before taking my place at the foot of the bed where I could gently stroke each calf muscle with one hand.
I peered up the length of her alabaster leg and noticed that the tucked sheet had further fallen so that Ann’s well-juiced labia came into view. I stared at the glistening juices of her sex while I drew both hands down to her heels. I extended Ann’s right foot until her toes pointed straight down. I leaned forward while my right hand glided the length of the woman’s leg, and stretched forward until the crotch of my leggings contacted her foot.
I used both hands to engulf her thigh to squeeze firmly from knee to buttock. When my thumbs pressed into Ann’s right buttock and fingers of my left hand found the place where her thigh meets her labia. Ann raised her foot off the bed and into my warm, wet leggings.
I allowed my index finger to wander along the ridge of her labia; it became as wet with her arousal as her foot was with mine. When Ann pushed her large, red-painted toe into my wet camel toe, I was the one to emit a low moan. As I allowed my finger to explore the ridges of Ann’s labia even more, Ann’s big toe wriggled to delve deeper into my sodden groove. Ann was writhing bursa escort bayan from my touch, while I gently humped her probing toe. Any suggestion that this was to be a professional medical treatment was out the window at this point.
“Alright, time for the other leg,” I said in a playful lilt, and whisked my hands all the way down her leg while my hips retreated from Ann’s touch. I moved back to her right side to untuck the sheet and drape it over her leg once more. It was time to move to Ann’s left side and repeat the tucking process to access her left leg.
As I did so, Ann’s left hand moved to the side of the table with her fingers resting over the edge. Ann’s fingers were long and supple, and her red nail polish matched her undies. I knew what she wanted, and leaned more than necessary to complete the tucking, and pressed my vulva into her fingers.
There was to be no accidental touching at this point, proven by the fact that Ann curled her fingers outward to cup my sex through my leggings. While my right hand made a weak effort at working Ann’s calf muscle, my left hand wandered higher along the back of her naked thigh toward her buttocks.
Ann began to groan as her middle finger burrowed into my crevice, taking my drenched pants with it. The thumb of my left hand separated from my fingers to gently fall to the sensitive flesh of the inside of Ann’s thigh.
Her broad buttocks arched into the air, causing the sheet to ride diagonally higher, for the first time revealing the generous globe of her right cheek. More of Ann’s ample labia came into view in time for the heel of my hand to rest at the crease at the top of her thigh.
My thumb continued its path to her sex, discovering each ridge and fold of her pink, engorged lips, until it became wet with her desire. My right hand followed the same path as the left, up Ann’s right thigh while my thumb dipped into the rubbery crevasse of the older woman’s labia. Ann began breathing with more of a rasp, relishing the tiny hands of her youthful masseuse and potential lover.
In one swift move, I grasped the top sheet and raised it up and allowed it to billow over both of Ann’s legs, hiding all of her from my view. I took hold of the top sheet on the far side of her and raised it up like a curtain between her and me. “Time to have you turn over, Ann.”
“Well, aren’t you a nasty little tease?” she offered with mock indignity. Ann relaxed her grip on my pussy and obeyed. Through the sheet I could see her form moving as she turned her body to face up. Once she settled, I lowered the sheet to cover her again from the neck down. The sheet fell into the natural curves of Ann’s body; the long hollow between right leg and left, displaying the roundness of her shaven mons, and the soft hump of Ann’s belly.
The outline cast beneath the white cloth showed that her heavy melons did not jut skyward as they might have in her teens. Tonight, gravity spread them wider and flatter; some of the massive, fatty flesh spilling down the sides of her chest. What was clear? Ann’s pinkish, dime-sized nipples stood nearly an inch above the shadow of her slightly paler areolas. I moved to the top of the table.
“Now I am getting too warm,” said Ann. With that, Ann took hold of the top sheet and folded it down so the top edge was at her hips, exposing her large, milky jugs. She looked up to watch my eyes take in the sight.
I laid each hand on a collarbone and spread them outward to her shoulders, intentionally avoiding touching her where she desperately wanted. “Whatever makes you comfortable Ann,” I responded, gliding my hands side to side across the top of her chest and tops of each arm. I felt my juices flowing freely as I made my way lower; reaching to follow the contours of her bulbous breasts. I made a more circular path with my palms around Ann’s titties, never quite contacting her nipples as they ached for my touch. Yes, I softly groped each melon and drew them back together to appreciate their abundance when gravity couldn’t distort their fullness. This just elicited gentle moans from my client.
When I stretched even further from to caress the soft mound of Ann’s full belly, my flat belly grazed her nose. Ann raised her arms above her head and wrapped each hand around my thighs, and glided up and down the softness of my thighs and hips through my tights. Ann’s head tilted back and her mouth kissed my tummy; my fingers teased belly. We silently soothed one another until I pulled back enough to return my focus to Ann’s breasts. This time, I used my well-manicured nails to lightly scratch the circumference of her areolas, never once touching her erect nipples. Ann’s hands traveled upwards along my hips and waist as I teased her. Soon her fingers were riding my own belly, just beneath my bra.
My fingers moved to her erect nubbins and pulled and twisted them playfully. “Is this what you wanted, Ann?”
Her head nodded, and she said softly, “Ever since I first saw you at school, but you never took escort bursa any of my classes.” Wow! I had no idea she had thoughts about me as I was entering puberty as a late bloomer. I assumed she wanted large busted girls, not some tween with bee stings for breasts. And I would have been oblivious to her, as I hadn’t even played with a girl until my first year in grade ten. I spent grade nine dating a few boys, until I realized that I just wasn’t into them. I wanted bodies much more like my own – soft and smooth and feminine.
“Maybe I should call you Mrs. Morley then,” I said softly.
“Maybe you should,” she answered with a giggle, exploring the faint roundness of my breasts through my padded bra and sweater. “Your body is just as cute today as it was in grade nine. I could have taught you so much…” said Ann wistfully. Ann tugged at my sweater and then the camisole beneath, pulling the hem from my leggings. Kisses on my bare belly brought more blood to my sex, flooding my vagina with my slick juices. Her hands slid beneath my camisole and popped free my tiny buds; they dangled freely while I kneaded Ann’s enormous titties. My breath came in heaves; she couldn’t know that I can easily orgasm from breast play alone. I was nearing my first orgasm when Ann slid her hands away to grasp my rib cage and cajole my body on top of hers; she did it so easily, it felt as if she plucked me up like a small child.
“Climb up, baby,” she begged, but I needed no coaxing. With her help, I got my knees up on the edge of the table and laid my body down along her breasts and belly. My hands tugged her top sheet down with me, displaying Ann’s curvy belly and the puffed, round top of her mons. Her reddish-grey pubes were just bristles; maybe having been shaved smooth a few days ago.
My middle finger parted Ann’s pee flaps, only to find an aroused clitoris stretching the skin of its hood. The bundle of nerves was nearly as long and round as my baby finger.
Ann planted my clothed pussy atop her face, and I felt her nose burrow between my lips. Her tongue was pushing the stretchy fabric into my slit, trying to penetrate me. She inhaled deeply to savor my personal scent and mewed like a kitten
“Mmm,” I offered, kissing Ann’s tummy and licking the hollow of her navel. Her hands slid beneath the elastic waistband of my leggings and slid them back over my bum, trying to make bare the object of her desire. When she did, Ann wasted no time peeling apart my labia to find and taste my pea-like nub. At the same time, Ann lowered her hands to play with my tiny titties, focusing on my dark, puffy areolas and nipples.
Meanwhile, my thumb and forefinger squeezed Ann’s very erect penis-like clit. The entire shaft extended from her clitoral hood. She moaned as I lightly squeezed it and stroked its length like a small cock. My other hand reached beneath Ann’s thigh and probed her meaty vaginal lips.
“Get up here, my sweet,” she demanded. I spread my knees wide at her shoulders and sat straight up, looking down to see Ann’s chin moving in time with the electric sensations her tongue was eliciting.
With my hands on my thighs for stability, I rocked my hips back and forth over the older woman’s face. My pussy was sloppy wet against Ann’s licks and suckling of my erect clitty. And just when I thought I might not last another second, Ann took hold of my waist so she could get her tongue back far enough to stab at my dark, puckered anus.
I ground into her; Ann’s tongue penetrated me with all she had. Her tongue worked all round the rigid entrance while my fingers sought out her hardened nipples and twisted them. The room filled with feminine sounds of bliss. She wriggled back beneath to finish me off with her tongue.
I don’t know how the older woman was able to breathe while she nibbled on my clit with her nose surrounded by my drenched labia and sopping hole, but she did. I rested my hands on her boobs so my hips were free to move my clitty up and down her flicking tongue.
Ann tucked her head forward enough to say, “Cum for me, little one”.
I was more than ready and called out, “Play with my nipples, Mrs. Morley!” Her thumb and forefinger began to twist and pull on my nipples, stretching them to their limit. When she sucked my clit in as deeply as she could, I exploded into a blinding orgasm.
My whole body shook atop Ann’s face, and I looked down to confirm that the flood I felt inside had spewed from me in a torrent. Ann’s chin and throat were awash in the clear fluid that gushed from within. I could take no more and raised my hips from her oral siege, and fell exhausted on her belly.
A few seconds later, I felt the sting of a playful slap on my ass. Ann caressed my backside and thighs, and then said, “Why don’t we finish this in my bed?”
I let my legs fall off the side of the table, and pulled my thong and leggings into place. I laid my small hand on her mons and said in a sweet voice, “Don’t you want me to take care of you right here, Mrs. Morley?”
She rose up on her elbows and grinned like a Cheshire cat. “My sweet, I have so much more for us to play with there.” She began to sit up and swung her legs to the side where I stood. Ann leaned in, drawing my lips to hers; her face soaked with my girl cum.