Celia enjoyed an all-over tingle when gorgeous Giorgio laid his hands on her.
Under the continued insistence of some girlfriends, I finally booked up to see Giorgio, an erotic masseur. Days later I lay naked, and a fair bit nervous, on a table in his parlour, his gentle hands and long fingers manipulating the tense muscles in my shoulders and back. Thank goodness the guy was not only gorgeous but also really good at his job, because every knot and every scrap of stress melted away as he pressed expert thumbs along the ridges of my spine, leaving me purring with pleasure.
“Is good, yes?” Giorgio murmured seductively in his soft, sensuous and accented voice.
“Mmm… very good,” I huskily replied, eyelids heavy and my muscles a puddle of liquid pleasure. I’d booked the Finger Treatment and was curious to know what it would involve.
I watched as Giorgio took two strips of silk out of a small set of drawers, which he fastened around my ankles, securing me to the table. Tendrils of heat curled all the way up from where the fabric stroked the inside of my calves, up to my thighs and my c**t, igniting little pockets of electricity along the way.
Unclipping something beneath the table, he pushed the lower half apart, spreading my legs so he could stand easily between them to stroke and knead the flesh of my bum.
A draft of cool air hit my pussy. My tits, pressed into the table top, tingled and swelled; my nipples contracted into two huge wheel nuts. I quickly sucked in a smidgen of air before I passed out from the sheer excitement, though I soon came round.
A trickle of warm oil pooled in the small of my back. It meandered down to the crack of my bottom, slipping along the crease and teasing every nerve ending. Giorgio’s expert fingers massaged the smooth, sensuous liquid around my arsehole and went down into the folds of my pussy, now huge and swollen. I was so wet; I was dripping and ready to burst.
He prised my cheeks apart with his thumbs, his fingers squeezing them, as he stroked and kneaded my hot, wet centre. Then, running a finger up through my delicate folds, he buried it deep into my arsehole. I gasped as my body sizzled and I groaned when he removed his finger. I didn’t want him to stop – not ever.
But he hadn’t stopped. He started caressing the folds of my swollen labia; rubbing oil into every crease and finding every delicious, sensitive spot. He finger-fucked me fast, then slow. One finger, then two. His thumb played with my arsehole, opening me up wide as he stood between my legs. The soft material of his shorts brushed the tops of my thighs as he slid nearer.
His warm breath and wet tongue flicked sensuously at my throbbing pussy and twirled salaciously around my quivering clit. I was teetering on the brink, my mind and limbs gone before he finally thrust several fingers hard inside me. As I orgasmed, my c**t contracted around his fingers.
The massage was utter bliss and I’ve already booked Giorgio for another session. This time I’ll be going for the full works…
