I was more terrified at this point than I had any reason to be, and some part of me was sure that the police were going to burst through the door at any moment. As she squirted lotion onto her hands and began stroking my shaft, I could hardly let myself relax and enjoy.
She could tell I was nervous, and rubbed my chest with her other hand, ever so often leaning in to drag her hair across my belly or whisper in my ear, “It’s ok, baby, it’s ok.” It hadn’t even occurred to me to touch her, but as I grew in her hand, I became bolder, and I let my hand drift under the edge of her shirt and up toward her chest.
She smiled, knowingly, as I took one of her nipples between my fingers, rolling it around. Her eyes closed for a second, and she purred, “You like me, baby? You want fuck?” never letting go of my cock as she asked.
I really only intended to get a handjob. Anything more seemed too risky, so I just kind of stammered, “No thank you. What you’re doing is fine. C-could you take your top off, though?” She stopped for a moment and glanced at the counter. “How much you tip?” She asked. I told her how much I had left, and she grinned. “You DO want fuck!” I protested again, and she nodded, but took off her shirt and slid her jean skirt down to the floor to reveal a beautiful, well-manicured pussy.
And that’s when she climbed onto the table with me, closing her legs tightly and sliding her taut body against mine. I must have looked scared, because she kissed my nose and whispered, “Don’t worry, baby, you like. You like.”
I gave up at this point. She drew her chest up to my face, pressing a nipple against my lips as her hand reached down under the table. As I sucked gently on her tiny breast, I heard some plastic tear and felt a condom being rolled onto my cock.
I think I said something like, “that’s ok, you don’t need to,” or something equally stupid, but when she opened her legs and I felt her warmth against my cockhead, I knew how much I wanted her. Like that, I was in her, and she brought her face in close to me, taking my head in her hands, but never kissing me.
She could have ridden me for 2 minutes or 2 hours, but I was lost in the sensation. She closed her eyes and buckled against me, making little squealing sounds until I came, and the life drained out of me.
The only thing she said to me was, “You good now, baby. I get you water” as she climbed off the table and slid out the door. A few minutes later, the older woman from before returned with a bottle of water, collected the money, and ushered me out.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/j65e5q/mf_my_visit_to_the_massage_parlor_part_2