The long-awaited part 2 is here (hint: it was on my profile all along!). Part 2 is where it gets real steamy – enjoy! Part 1 is [here.](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/lmzv6a/i_f_hired_another_woman_for_sensual_massage/)
I compose an email.
*Dear Lily* (her listed named being Lily),
*I would love to meet you.*
No. That sounds stupid.
*Lily,*
*I love your dimples. Do you think we could arrange a meeting*
No. That is also stupid.
*Hi Lily,*
*I am nervous. This is my first time. You look like you know what you’re doing, and I am craving some touch – might you be available this coming weekend for a one hour appointment? Please find my information attached below. I look forward to hearing from you.*
I send it before I have time for regret. Maybe I haven’t given her enough time, or perhaps I’ve given too much. I think about her red curls gracing my shoulders. I slam my computer shut and go, fitfully, to sleep.
In the morning, I have a response. She is available, Saturday at noon, is well-versed with newbies, and would love to see me. I send a deposit immediately. I shake for the next three days in anticipation.
**(Sexy Stuff)**
On Saturday, I arrive at her space with excitement and anxiety. The small, unassuming cottage in the pretty neighborhood holds a secret that I feel special for knowing. I knock, three times, slowly. The door opens.
Lily is shorter than me, clad in just a silk robe and a large, warm smile. She immediately embraces me, pulling me in for a chaste hug so that I can smell the distinct notes of lavender and patchouli oil rubbed into her collarbones. I yield to her softness, almost embarrassed. We chat as she leads me to the room, alight with tea candles and soft music. The massage table is set up and ready for me, and I for it. She signals to the chair where I can leave my clothes, and I gingerly undress while she pretends to occupy herself for my privacy. What a silly charade, yet I am grateful. She has me lie on my stomach. My knees quake at her first touch, an innocent hand at the nape of my neck.
“Relax,” she whispers in my ear. “You’re in good hands. Just let me know if you’d like me to stop.” I manage to meekly nod.
Her hands make gentle waves across my back. I feel her fingers probe into the soft spots of my waist, pushing and kneading along my tender shoulder blades, rolling a sweet, oiled fist across my lower back. I feel her get on the table to straddle me, acutely aware that her naked pussy is now pressing into my ass, her soft stomach on my back, her generous breasts draped on my shoulders while she rubs the side of my neck. She grazes my neck with her chin, leaves me a soft kiss on my spine. The oil makes every touch warm and slippery, and the smell of coconut wafts throughout the room. There is a stirring between my legs, and though I am sure I haven’t moved, I am somehow convinced that she knows.
She uses her muscular inner thighs to massage the outside of my hips, distracting me from the fact that her hands have wandered to the inside, tracing oil around and under my ass, slipping dangerously close to the outer folds of my cunt. I flinch instinctively.
“Is this ok,” she asks, genuinely.
“Very,” I say. She giggles. Elegantly, almost without disturbing a single hair on my body, she turns herself around, now pressing her ass into my back, and her breasts swinging low. I swear I feel her nipple graze my clit but I can’t be sure without seeing. Whether it was her nipple or a gust of air, I am painfully wet now. She runs her strong hands down the back of my thighs, calves, holding my feet firmly but gently, and presses with a practiced technique into the arch. I let out a soft moan. She does it again. The sensation of her hand on my arch, fingers separating my toes, and her fuzzy pubic mound tickling my back is enough to almost push me to the edge. I hold fast, knowing we have miles to go.
She slides off of me, and I immediately miss the weight of her on my back.
“Time for the other side,” she says. I feel like she is mocking me, knows how tortured I am, but I don’t resist. I turn over obediently. Now on my back, we are able to make eye contact. Deep pools of green look at me, impossibly doe-eyed and innocent, with that glimmer of mischief that so attracted me to her. Her body is impossibly plush, soft and curved and bountiful. There is no shortage of supple skin to grasp, though I press my hands further into the bed to prevent myself from breaking the rules and thus, the spell.
She begins at my collar, lightly tracing the protruding bones down my arms, back up the inner sides, tickling the soft spot on my elbow. She does this, too, around the soft edges of my breasts, coming to rest with them cupped perfectly in her small hands. She looks up at my, slyly, and maintains the eye contact as she puts one nipple in her mouth. I gasp. She sucks, hungrily, knowing exactly when to nibble, caress, and swirl her tongue around the erect button. My back is surely arching and I am no longer in control of my responses. She switches to the other nipple, expertly replacing her mouth on the first with two fingers, pinching and squeezing with such perfect tension that I don’t even think I’ve achieved on myself. My cunt is soaked, and I can feel it start to drip on the bed below. She abandons my nipples, to my displeasure, but just as quickly replaces the sensation with slow kisses down my stomach, leaving small nips on my hips and hands still wandering around my breasts, my arms. Every part of my body feels engulfed in a slow-burning candle flame: not too hot, not too fast, flickering shadows along my skin that I wish to hold onto for just a moment longer before they extinguish.
She arrives between my legs. She looks at me. I throw my head back.
“Please touch me,” I manage to croak. My eyes are screwed shut, my hair is a mess of oil and desire and I cannot wait any longer. Her fingers are excruciatingly slow as she pushes my legs open and circles the wet smoothness of my labia. I can feel how sticky and perfect it is, how prepared I am for her. I hope she likes it.
My clit has hardened and grown at the feel of her nearness; she gives it light circles to acknowledge its hard work. I am proud of my clit for understanding the importance of the moment. While I am internally beaming and relaxing into the moment, Lily takes the opportunity to put two fingers in me. I writhe, knowing it is foolish given how little has happened. She begins to curl her fingers and pump them in, deep and slow. Every motion feels like a flood. Breathing becomes difficult. Her other hand teases one nipple, while her teeth scrape my hips. I buck up toward her, wanting more, always. She adds another finger. I look down, her mass of red curls bobbing in perfect time,her eyes locking with mine, and a grin plastered to her face. She adjusts so her hand is still in me and her face is close to mine, and kisses me.
Her tongue finds mine, and like this, we dance. She tastes so sweet. I am still stuck with my arms by my side, afraid to go forward, but she uses her free hand to lift one of mine and places it on her ass. I squeeze in affirmation. Now I am beyond. My hands wander, finding the small dimples, the spine, the waist, the back of her neck. I press her into me. She pumps harder. An involuntary growl escapes my throat; I am not used to this type of submission, and I fear an inability to stop. Somehow I remind myself that this is a gift; that I need not worry about reciprocity, for that is not what I am here for. And so I forgive myself, cede power, and simply hold her to me as she adds a finger, nearly fisting me. The feeling of being so full is nearly tear-inducing, not of pain but of ecstasy, and I take on some of her labor by riding her fist like my life depends on it. Her arm need only stay still so that I can give myself wave after wave of orgasm. I can hear her laughing, a joyous ringing at the display, as I nearly black out from pleasure.
At the peak, she removes her hand, and deftly pinches my clit between her fingers, holding it in place so that she can rapidly tease it with another, crashing my orgasm two-fold. I have lost language. I have lost self. I have lost everything, and in the loss, gained everything. I explode, repeatedly, my cheeks wet with tears and I realize I am also laughing. The room is coconut and wet and filled with laughter, sounds and sensations that are so lacking in porn now consume me and make me whole at the same time.
Eventually, she extracts her hand, and my body slows, ever so slightly jerking, legs shaking and arms collapsed off the bed. She kisses me once, softly exploring my mouth with her tongue, before finally sliding off of me to put on her robe.
“That was fun!” She looks at me.
“Y-yes. Fun is definitely a word for it,” I squeak.
“You’re cute.”
I swoon, and know I will be back.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/lt17sb/ff_hired_a_woman_for_sensual_massage_part_2
Fantastic writing! Very hot!
My first time was up 3 flights of stairs, she answered quickly at my knock. Easily her shoulders as broad as mine, she wore a T-shirt, no bra, and blue jeans. She was roughly 30, and her hair in bangs she clearly snipped herself. Homely would be the right word, but a nice smile. The table was in the middle of a very large room.
She had me undress as she sat in a straight backed wooden chair and watched. I was mildly flustered, but stretched out naked, face down.
In seconds I knew her hands were magic, the issue with my back began to vanish, pure talent there, it was like she drew the pain out of me with her hands. I began to erect, although I did try not to.
She had me turn over, then poured oil on my groin and relieved the concern. I had not really expected that. Then she continued the massage, missing nothing, and when I once again erected, she relieved me the 2nd time, in what I would describe as a matter of fact manner.
I saw her every Saturday morning for 8 years. If things came up, which often it simply did not, she took care of it, otherwise, no. One different lady.
This is super hot! Thank you for sharing!!