Do you remember when you saw for the first time, the most beautiful woman you ever would see? The one that made both time and you stop, and the one that you would forever compare all other women to? I do. I was 18. Naturally.
At the height of raging hormones and horniness. I had spent the day with my Dad, going about his new town as we searched for cheap furniture to furnish his new place with. Naturally, we hit up craigslist. It was a fun, summer day, great bonding before I left for college.
The first worthy post was from a masseuse office literally a block away, showcasing a nice green loveseat that my dad still owns to this day.
The loveseat didn’t look too heavy, so Pop and me popped down. I had headphones in, I was just along for the ride, dwindling behind my dad as we waited after knocking on the door. Then it swung open; and I saw her for the first time.
Tall, tan, and freckled. Auburn hair tumbled past her shoulders, in delightful waves that shimmered in the sunlight. She had on this amazing dark blue top, and her big, freckled perky tits were pushed up against the brim, jiggling as she greeted us. A more electric blue than the navy that draped her sexy, hourglass torso, her eyes shone and sparkled with a humorous, sensual energy.
I was too dumbstruck to say a word, just staring with my jaw at the floor, stumbling behind my slightly red but still polite father. I had plucked an earbud out, but only nodded politely as she chit chatted with my dad, who was probably regretting getting recently remarried. I couldn’t concentrate on anything else; their conversation was a distant din. She was just the hottest woman I’d ever seen. Plain and simple. In film, movies, magazines, social media, reddit, my dad’s playboys, anything. I couldn’t believe it. The room warped around her.
(Beyond celebrity comparison, Marcy is her own woman- but perhaps if Olivia Wilde had Lucy Pinders body, and tanned, freckled skin. A much hotter and younger Darla Crane, if you know that pornstar- if you don’t know who those three are- google them with lotion ready and thank me later)
She glanced at me and smiled, and I never forgot it. Her eyes were a brilliant, nordic blue. Face; magazine cover beautiful, elegant structure and a seductive aged roseglow to her cheeks. She sensed my arousal like a predator to prey. But she played it off with a smirk my way and an eyebrow raise.
She was so cool. That’s the thing. I had become completely enraptured by her in mere seconds. I had never thought a woman over 40 to be hot, at that naive point in my life, and never had I thought them to be so chill and innately funny. She was animated, talked in a uniquely smoky voice that drew me in, with her hands gesturing wildly. She even cracked a couple jokes about how lame the town was, called my guns n roses t shirt “awesome” – and the best part-
She modeled how comfy the loveseat was by firstly striding to it with her plump, full ass in full tight yoga pant display, then turning to comically plop down on it. This made her tits bounce up and down prominently- and her dazzling, pearly white smile flashed right to me right after just about made me faint. I was painfully, visibly erect. I had to do one of those; ‘lean against the wall and cross the legs’ deals.
A maneuver Marcy had caught, and given me another knowing, sultry smile, before turning to accept the crumpled twenties my dad was pulling out of his wallet.
Broken from my trance by my father ushering me to help lift what we had come to collect, we heaved the loveseat out to the alley. In a wooden sign handpainted and decorated with flowers and cardinals hanging next to her door; I caught sight of all her essential info. 100$ for 60 mins, 125$ for 90, and below, a phone number I still have memorized today- from that moment there. Way too shy and embarrassed to be accompanied by my side eye giving, head-shaking Dad, I just blushed and waved quick.
She was texting on her phone but had her vibrant eyes on me, a smile pursed on her lips. I reserved to call her the second I was free, and see if she really was projecting anything like what I was fantasizing.
And after some serious post nut clarity that night in which I had edged for hours on the memories of that day- I decided I was going to do this right.
I worked out like an actor cast to play a leading superhero for months, utilizing my colleges free gym. I could not get that first meeting with Marcy off of my mind. She was the motivation to do all the crunches and pushups, go for that extra rep, try to max out when already exhausted. I truly credit my horniness for that goddess in kick-starting my physical fitness routines. Ill always be lanky, but my abs and that V looked great, I must humbly say, and for the first time ever, my biceps were actually noticable and bulging.
Because, from what I had gathered online, and much to my dismay- she was not a happy ending type of masseuse. She wasn’t on rubmaps, and her website and reviews all stressed either new age meditation relaxation, reiki, or very medically worded physical therapy ratings. Also known as a mystic, she advertised reading both palms and tarot cards. An “authority on astrology” She was also divorced with a daughter that had a couple years on me. This did not turn me off one bit. Opposite effect, really.
Honestly, I was just over the moon to have her touch me in an intimate way. Rub me down in oil, cleavage I had dreamed about swaying in my face- heaven. Seeing her and getting to catch up, make her laugh, make her blush with a sauve compliment- hell, maybe even befriending this cool, hot ass chick- all would be a happy ending enough. (I could and would beat off about it endlessly later- a perfect personal Christmas present to myself)
I had grown to be a horny bastard, but also one with a good heart. I would never impose anything, or engage in prostitution. Highest respect for all women, always. But the crush was real, and I would shoot my shot.
The thrill of hearing her voice over the phone, the energy soared straight to my tented briefs as we scheduled the appointment. Just replaying that memory of first seeing her got me rigid.
And with no embellishment, I am a tall, lanky but still built, brown haired, green eyed dude who looks like a Walmart version of Cole Sprouse, but with a big ass dick. (8.75)
I made the nearly two hour road trip down south, and with a heart rate like a jack rabbit, knocked on the studio door.
She swung it open in the exact same manner as years before, only in the twilight of that late gray winter day of slow falling snow- her kimono and ponytailed hair gave her a mystical quality. She cocked her head and squinted up at me in the brisk cold- I was a good foot taller.
“Aquaeleven, right? You’re right on time, hurry, come on in, it’s freezing! and give me your coat!”
She beamed, and I blushed and nodded, awkwardly shambling a peacoat off. It was mid December.
Her office was the living room of a house reconverted into a massage studio of excellent quality- beautiful, trippy tapestries of mandalas and nature lined the walls, a wooden privacy curtain dominated one corner, as electric constellations twirled on the ceiling and salt lamps glowed around the massaging table. A spaceheater whirred and emitted tremendous warmth. We made small talk that I choked through while I filled out the forms, coughed up the ID, and paid cash (with a 50 dollar tip and a humble smile from my end that made her blush)
It was perfect, and her hand on the small of my back as she gestured to the table set me over the edge. The reality that this was happening- I had to sit down, abruptly. I must have looked visibly overwhelmed because she didn’t bring up recognizing me (a topic that would be discussed at length later) and she simply just put her hand on my shoulder and said words I will never forget in a smoky voice dripping with intent;
“Aquaeleven, you are about to feel amazing! So breathe deep and relax; get undressed, and I’ll grab some water for you before we begin”
She got up slowly, and I smiled and made no secret that I looked straight at her pushed together and popping out tits when she rose. She turned again to see my looking at her ass as she turned to the door, and her smile told me she appreciated the attention. I took my clothes off like they were aflame, and settled, chest down, beneath the silken sheets. The lights dimmed, and the door creaked. Soon smooth hands were caressing my body, as a peaceful candle filled the room. She had started at my feet, and I could not see her. Only hear her hum softly, which only made me impale the table all the more.
She brushed my hands, and I could feel no more kimono, but the smooth fabric of athletic shorts. I turned to look, and she caught my eye and smiled, tits jiggling in the dim light, tandem with the slow kneading. “Is this okay?”
I laughed and turned back into the facehold- “this is literally the best moment of my life- okay doesn’t even scratch the surface”
She let loose a deep laugh, and leapt right up to massaging my ass, which made me moan, and shortly after, made her have a sharp intake of breath. She was gentle, sensual, tracing bare ass beneath the silk privacy sheet for a second. She then repositioned so her crotch was right in front of me. I swear she was thrusting more than one would need to as she got my shoulders and neck from that angle. Her hands were magic, and she erased pain with pleasure as she moved across my body.
My cock was throbbing, but I kept a polite, thankful disposition. I simply hoped the energies would connect. So when she brought her chin next to mine, and I could see her sexy, rose lipglosssd lips whisper “turn over” and feel the warmth of her breath, and I had the confidence to put my fully erect big dick on display, unhindered by purple silk, a mountain on the table, and she did moan and gasp – I was ecstatic.
However Marcy was ever the professional, and she worked around it, whispered a barely audible “don’t sweat it” and continued buisness as usual, if a bit more red than usual. Not making a big deal when she bumped into it or had to attend to my upper thighs. I offered apologies but she simply batted the words away with her hand and told me to “keep relaxing” bumping the head of my cock with her elbow as the other arm traced the length of my leg slowly. Her blue eyes glued to my swaying bulge more often than not.
Disappointed but still so fine with it, I was so worked up I didn’t go down for the duration of the massage. Something we both were fully aware of.
After, she thanked me, and told me I would be a welcome client, anytime. The sexual tension was so strong, but the age gap and the professional nature kept it quelled.
As awesome as a massage from Marcy was, as awesome as she was; I could not go without getting one for longer than a month. A streak I kept from that summer of 2016 wherein I had responded to the craigslist add with my Dad; the first Christmas present session- right up until covid began this past January.
Always the highlight of the month, she became the best staple and secret in my life. I always treated Marcy with the utmost respect, and we formed an incredible relationship over time. She remained ever the secret motivation for my work out regimens, and the subject of nearly all my fantasies.
She became a close friend, honestly. More than anything else. We had very similar viewpoints and tastes, and sometimes she would stop massaging and we would get lost talking, happily so. Music, politics, funny stories from the past, worries for the future. Mundane everyday things, major philosophical ideals. Anything was fair game, and to have that relationship with a goddess as she caresses you gingerly with baby oil in a candlelit room- yeah.
Especially as her frequent compliments fueled my working out schedule, and made up for all my lack of female attention that had spared me in my awkward, formative years. Because in addition to Marcy, my body count is only 3. I’m no casanova, a definite ugly duckling, all of which is what made my massages with Marcy all the more special. She really was pivotal in my development, and is near and dear to my heart.
And for everytime she called me “handsome” or “love” I called her “beautiful” or ” gorgeous” twice. We would text and flirt outside of the appointments. Sending each other songs the other would like, poems, ted talks. Sometimes if it were summer or spring I would grab some fresh fruit and flowers from a road side stand I passed on the way to her. She always hugged me tight for that.
She would try to refuse my generous tips and I would tip her more for that. If I was lucky, this would get me a kiss on the cheek.
In the fall of 2019, it was at the point where we would hit her medical marijuana dab cart together and vibe, before the appointment. Often, she would play a record on her machine as we caught up on each others week. A medley of inside jokes and flirtation beneath music.
Then I would get undressed (for the most part- while she was still in the room watching, sometimes she would help unbutton, I loved that, and I would start getting hard then and there, without fail which she always looked directly at before turning away) – and then she would massage me.
All of me at full attention, throbbing and stretching the sheets- hand moving over her body, able to cup her ass, stroke her back over. But still there was never the coveted break, the loss to lust, where we said fuck it and tore each others clothes off, and not wanting to jeopardize anything, I never pushed for anything. Just reacted to all that she was in ways that she was very much so a fan of.
But it was getting old, I confess. I needed more of her, and one session, after three, long, long years of this- lightning struck. She was seated behind me, caressing my cheeks, talking in that low, smoky sultry voice in a manner that turned the ends of my responses into moans as she glided and pressed softly along my shoulders and neck.
“Marcy” I spoke up from the facehold, interrupting her story about the wild horses from her beach vacation. I was caught up in the moment so this isn’t exact but I said something like “I want to make someone feel as good as you make me feel- and this is so out of left field and feel free to tell me if it’s not okay- but I would pay triple if instead of you massaging me, I massage you. You show me how, teach me the trade”
She paused, and I was worried for a millisecond before she slapped my ass playfully. “Please, with how well you’ve tipped over the years- you don’t need to pay any extra. And I’m exhausted, we can start right now, sensei! ”
She laughed, and met my surprised, dazed and elated gaze with a devilish grin. She leaned against her dresser, and fuck she looked so sexy. Dressed in all white today, dark hair in waves, framing her huge tits. My favorite cotton white shirt that she wore and sexy form fitting, matching white pants. Obviously no bra, her nipples hard and on full display. Her cleavage looked especially big, and she heaved her chest up just ever so slightly as she cocked an eyebrow at me for so obviously looking her over.
Without thinking, I leapt up to her side in a mission to give her the table to lay on, only to realize that I had just jumped up in front of this woman stark nude, and fully torqued. I had even literally gestured to the table like a doorman. My eyes widened in shock, I made to cover, double back for my boxers, but she reached out simply, and grabbed my cock by the shaft, using it as a handle to move me aside. I slammed a hand down on the dresser and stared her down in desire, making sure to twitch in her palm before she let go, both of us moaning. She didn’t meet my eyes, and snapped off her pants and panties in one fluid motion, leaving them on top of the rich wooden floor. Before abruptly tossing her top behind her head directly to my face. The humor both caught me off guard and brought me back down to earth.
Her body revealed in flickering amber light, smooth olive skinned back, tits so big I could see them swaying obscured in shadow from behind as her ass rose and arcing out invitingly as she shot me the hottest look of my life before she relaxed into the massaging table.
I decided to be as forthright as ever, and I went to work on her body, paying homage with my movements to all the pleasure she had given me over the years. I poured myself into her, massaging her legs both roughly and gently, slathering oil and making sure to prod her with my exposed and rock hard cock often, while she squirmed into the table.
I hopped up on the table, and positioned myself over top of her, laying my big dick against her big, gym toned ass, which started grinding back as soon as she felt me. Tan cheeks gyrating and sashaying, she would go from twerking rapidly to torturously slow strokes, hotdogging me with her big ass. She leaned back and stuck her tongue out, sliding it sensually overtop full lips in an invitation and bringing my attention to her “fuck me” summersky blue eyes, as she winked back at me sharply, biting her lip before lowering her head once more to better shake her ass and let loose a “Fuck Yes”
My cock strained hard, twitching rigid. I kissed her neck, and then wildly, I was kissing her. Those mature, full lips came alive against mine with grace and power. In the intensity and spontaneous nature of the moment, the kiss was powerful enough to make us both pause, and get used to exploring each others mouths. Intimate and romantic, her tongue would flick mine, mine would swirl around hers. I was slapping her ass with my cock, biting her lip, when she broke apart and begged “Just fuck me already, dammit!”
Say no more. I grunted and got back up on both arms behind her, slid my entire, waiting member into her perfect, wet pussy. Despite her age I was gripped, vicelike, by her warmth. Engulfed in the pleasure and the stretching, I found heaven and we shared moans of ecstasy. I pounded her from the back for sometime, before she flipped around and her perfect, doctored tits were perky mounds staring at me, begging to be sucked on.
I massaged and groped and shoved my face between her perfect tits, moaning and drooling while my dick stuffed in and out, audibly actively fucking her squelching pussy. Pausing to behold them bounce, slapping them, sliding my cock out with a pop! from her soaking pussy and spitting on it before fucking her enormous boobs while her perfect skilled hands pushed them up together for optimal cushion, shaking them around my shaft as her fingers grazed and pinched at her perfect ghost nipples.
Staring into those knowing blue eyes while she jacked me off above her sweaty, heaving double ds, I saw stars as I moaned her name- spraying a tremendous load of hot, thick come across her tits and neck.
She cooed and wrapped her arms around my neck while I collapsed into her, not caring about the come. We kissed slowly, and steadily, until it was hungrily, and then I was hard again, and she was thrusting her pussy at me, and my cock was still covered in cum but I was back inside her again, and I didn’t care about lasting long I just fucked and moaned and bit her neck and thanked her and told her how sexy she was and how glad I was to have her in my life and she was moaning back and trying to joke but ultimately she just thanked me back and told me not to stop, not to stop and then I was coming deep in her pussy, the kind of orgasm that ceases the world, and when I regained total memory and recollection I was draped in the silk sheet, she was standing close by hitting her pen- checking her newly red ass out in the mirror, and telling me that she was just texting her next appointment that she was gonna close early today.
I just laid back and took it all in, clearly unable to speak.
Marcy and I had several more amazingly raunchy sessions and more than one night together at her place over the course of the winter till the pandemic really set in. I’m still in disbelief about it all. If there’s interest, I’ll write up those as well. Thank you for reading my first ever attempt at erotica!
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/jc30bh/memories_of_marcy_the_incredible_sensual_milf
Outstanding
where is she and does she have any open appointments ?
Love this