Note: For Sarah--I promised you a naked Gunny coated in baby oil.
Baby Me
By TheLadyT
His back fairly glowed in the soft light. I poured more baby oil into my hands before returning them to his broad back. He moaned slightly as I rubbed it in. "Your skin's quite dry. You were over there a long time?" He grunted noncommittally. I moved lower on his body and poured out more oil. Every muscle on his body was rock-solid. "You must have been very active out there. Were you on the move a lot?" He didn't answer, but I didn't expect him to either. I rubbed the oil onto his bare buttocks--I'd never seen flesh so firm. I longed to do so much more, but reminded myself that anything further would be unprofessional. For now, he was just a tired and hurting client. I rearranged the sheet and went to work on his thighs.
He'd come in on a pre-paid appointment, and the guy who paid for it was a pig. "My friend's been in a war-zone, too long." Then the jerk--Manny-something-or-other--bent so low over my desk I thought he was trying to look down my blouse. "He's a good buddy, and we go way back. And, he's in need of some serious pampering, if you know what I mean." Even though I explained to the prick that this was a legitimate establishment, he tossed down two fifties and said his friend better get what he paid for. At that point I'd had enough, so I just smiled sweetly, handed him his receipt, and assured him that his friend would get *exactly* what he paid for. Okay, so I don't charge a hundred for a massage, but I considered the extra twenty-five as my "tip" for having to endure that guy's abuse.
Sweet Goddess, but I was scared who would walk in the door. I certainly wasn't expecting the tall, hard-bodied Adonis who now graced my table. The poor guy was terribly nervous, but I think once he realized that all he was getting was a massage he measurably relaxed.
Although my preferred oils for working on someone with seriously strained muscles are arnica and rosemary, he didn't like either. As it turned out, with his skin so dry the baby oil was the best choice.
Once I got his skin well coated I moved back to his neck and shoulders to begin. "Oh god," were the first words he uttered when my well-oiled fingers began to work on the knots I'd found.
"Just relax, Mr. Galindez. You've been abusing these muscles a long time, but I think I can work the kinks out of them. Just breathe deeply and think about something pleasant." As I switched to his right arm I could see him begin to relax and was able to finish both arms without further incident. "You're doing great, Mr. Galindez. Despite all the knots, your muscles are in excellent condition. Just keep up your breathing." I returned to his back, oiled up my hands again, and began working on more kinks. The poor guy was literally covered in knots; fortunately, they became easier and easier to work out. Heck, I was starting to think that by the time I finished with the back of him, all I'll have to worry about on his front will be his thighs.
I certainly hope so at any rate. Even with all my mantras of professionalism, I'd still be tempted while working on that chest. The last thing I want is for him to bring me up on charges of molesting him. However, that didn't stop me from cataloguing each and every one of his assets for further contemplation later--*much* later.
His splendid ass was marred by an old, but still nasty-looking scar. Many other scars--recent ones--covered his legs and arms. His back, on the other hand, was completely smooth; only the occasional mole broke up what was otherwise perfection. He had a beautiful neck. Okay, so it was a little leathery, but it was long, well-muscled, and melded into those lovely broad shoulders perfectly.
As I finished up his buttocks I noticed how sore my hands were getting. If it wasn't for all his knots, working on him would be pure pleasure. When I began massaging his left leg I concentrated on the strain in my hands, and by the time I got to his calf I had my professional side firmly back in control.
He yelped a few times while I massaged his feet. "You could use a reflexology session," I told him as I soothed the tender spots. "I have a friend who does excellent work." I picked up the bottle of baby oil to re-oil my hands before working on his right calf and told him, "I can give you his card before you leave." I actually have two friends who do reflexology, but Megan wasn't getting her hands on this guy. She'd forgive me, eventually. We always share tales about special clients. I probably won't hear much about that bald hunk who comes to see her twice a month for awhile, though--maybe not for a year. Not too many people know about the pressure points on the hands and feet that can get a man hard. But if she ever gets that man in bed and *doesn't* tell me all about it, I just might have to hurt her.
I finished up his right leg, then picked up a towel. "I'm going to step out for a moment, Mr. Galindez, so you can turn over." He raised up slightly and I handed him the towel. "Put this over your groin area before you cover yourself with the sheet."
The bottled water helped cool my throat only. Sweet Goddess--I hadn't been so turned on by a client in years. I took several cleansing breaths, grounded myself, lit my emergency citrus candle, then made a quick plea for strength before returning.
I rapped twice before turning the door handle. "Ready?" At his affirmative, I put on a professional smile and entered.
How I managed to get through the rest of the massage I don't know. Perhaps the Goddess was smiling on me. She definitely smiled on me later.
As I handed him Bill's card, all I could think was that this was one client I would never forget. "Bill Quentin's a great guy. He'll fix your feet up for you, and he's reasonably priced."
He has such an adorable smile. "Uh, thank you, Miss, um, Winters."
I handed him my card as well. "You're quite welcome, Mr. Galindez. And if you'd ever like to come back, please don't hesitate to call." The professionalism was killing me. All I wanted to do was get him out of here so I could call Megan; she and I were going to do some serious drinking tonight.
Suddenly he blushed. Mistress Over All--I think my heart did a back flip. And that was *before* he said, "Actually, I was wondering, well, I just got into town and, um, would you like to go out for a drink sometime?"
I found myself answering his blush with one of my own. Oh hell, Megan was going to have to wait to hear about this one! "Sure. What about tonight?" At his expression I wondered if I'd pushed too far. "Uh, Kilroy's is just down the road--it's a sports bar. Baseball's in full swing and, well, I'm a bit addicted." Actually, I've got more cards than most of the guys I grew up with, but he didn't need to know that, yet.
"Oh yeah, I've been there before. I use to go there during basketball season. Would seventee--I mean, five o'clock be okay? I've got to go somewhere first, but tonight would be terrific."
After he left I got on the phone to leave a message on Megan's voicemail. "Hey girlfriend. Gotta cancel tonight, but call me first thing in the morning." I thought about how Victor Galindez's fine tush looked as he walked out a few moments ago--oh yeah, I'm gonna get some of that tonight. "I hope to have one excellent tale to tell you. Bye."
Baby Me
By TheLadyT
His back fairly glowed in the soft light. I poured more baby oil into my hands before returning them to his broad back. He moaned slightly as I rubbed it in. "Your skin's quite dry. You were over there a long time?" He grunted noncommittally. I moved lower on his body and poured out more oil. Every muscle on his body was rock-solid. "You must have been very active out there. Were you on the move a lot?" He didn't answer, but I didn't expect him to either. I rubbed the oil onto his bare buttocks--I'd never seen flesh so firm. I longed to do so much more, but reminded myself that anything further would be unprofessional. For now, he was just a tired and hurting client. I rearranged the sheet and went to work on his thighs.
He'd come in on a pre-paid appointment, and the guy who paid for it was a pig. "My friend's been in a war-zone, too long." Then the jerk--Manny-something-or-other--bent so low over my desk I thought he was trying to look down my blouse. "He's a good buddy, and we go way back. And, he's in need of some serious pampering, if you know what I mean." Even though I explained to the prick that this was a legitimate establishment, he tossed down two fifties and said his friend better get what he paid for. At that point I'd had enough, so I just smiled sweetly, handed him his receipt, and assured him that his friend would get *exactly* what he paid for. Okay, so I don't charge a hundred for a massage, but I considered the extra twenty-five as my "tip" for having to endure that guy's abuse.
Sweet Goddess, but I was scared who would walk in the door. I certainly wasn't expecting the tall, hard-bodied Adonis who now graced my table. The poor guy was terribly nervous, but I think once he realized that all he was getting was a massage he measurably relaxed.
Although my preferred oils for working on someone with seriously strained muscles are arnica and rosemary, he didn't like either. As it turned out, with his skin so dry the baby oil was the best choice.
Once I got his skin well coated I moved back to his neck and shoulders to begin. "Oh god," were the first words he uttered when my well-oiled fingers began to work on the knots I'd found.
"Just relax, Mr. Galindez. You've been abusing these muscles a long time, but I think I can work the kinks out of them. Just breathe deeply and think about something pleasant." As I switched to his right arm I could see him begin to relax and was able to finish both arms without further incident. "You're doing great, Mr. Galindez. Despite all the knots, your muscles are in excellent condition. Just keep up your breathing." I returned to his back, oiled up my hands again, and began working on more kinks. The poor guy was literally covered in knots; fortunately, they became easier and easier to work out. Heck, I was starting to think that by the time I finished with the back of him, all I'll have to worry about on his front will be his thighs.
I certainly hope so at any rate. Even with all my mantras of professionalism, I'd still be tempted while working on that chest. The last thing I want is for him to bring me up on charges of molesting him. However, that didn't stop me from cataloguing each and every one of his assets for further contemplation later--*much* later.
His splendid ass was marred by an old, but still nasty-looking scar. Many other scars--recent ones--covered his legs and arms. His back, on the other hand, was completely smooth; only the occasional mole broke up what was otherwise perfection. He had a beautiful neck. Okay, so it was a little leathery, but it was long, well-muscled, and melded into those lovely broad shoulders perfectly.
As I finished up his buttocks I noticed how sore my hands were getting. If it wasn't for all his knots, working on him would be pure pleasure. When I began massaging his left leg I concentrated on the strain in my hands, and by the time I got to his calf I had my professional side firmly back in control.
He yelped a few times while I massaged his feet. "You could use a reflexology session," I told him as I soothed the tender spots. "I have a friend who does excellent work." I picked up the bottle of baby oil to re-oil my hands before working on his right calf and told him, "I can give you his card before you leave." I actually have two friends who do reflexology, but Megan wasn't getting her hands on this guy. She'd forgive me, eventually. We always share tales about special clients. I probably won't hear much about that bald hunk who comes to see her twice a month for awhile, though--maybe not for a year. Not too many people know about the pressure points on the hands and feet that can get a man hard. But if she ever gets that man in bed and *doesn't* tell me all about it, I just might have to hurt her.
I finished up his right leg, then picked up a towel. "I'm going to step out for a moment, Mr. Galindez, so you can turn over." He raised up slightly and I handed him the towel. "Put this over your groin area before you cover yourself with the sheet."
The bottled water helped cool my throat only. Sweet Goddess--I hadn't been so turned on by a client in years. I took several cleansing breaths, grounded myself, lit my emergency citrus candle, then made a quick plea for strength before returning.
I rapped twice before turning the door handle. "Ready?" At his affirmative, I put on a professional smile and entered.
How I managed to get through the rest of the massage I don't know. Perhaps the Goddess was smiling on me. She definitely smiled on me later.
As I handed him Bill's card, all I could think was that this was one client I would never forget. "Bill Quentin's a great guy. He'll fix your feet up for you, and he's reasonably priced."
He has such an adorable smile. "Uh, thank you, Miss, um, Winters."
I handed him my card as well. "You're quite welcome, Mr. Galindez. And if you'd ever like to come back, please don't hesitate to call." The professionalism was killing me. All I wanted to do was get him out of here so I could call Megan; she and I were going to do some serious drinking tonight.
Suddenly he blushed. Mistress Over All--I think my heart did a back flip. And that was *before* he said, "Actually, I was wondering, well, I just got into town and, um, would you like to go out for a drink sometime?"
I found myself answering his blush with one of my own. Oh hell, Megan was going to have to wait to hear about this one! "Sure. What about tonight?" At his expression I wondered if I'd pushed too far. "Uh, Kilroy's is just down the road--it's a sports bar. Baseball's in full swing and, well, I'm a bit addicted." Actually, I've got more cards than most of the guys I grew up with, but he didn't need to know that, yet.
"Oh yeah, I've been there before. I use to go there during basketball season. Would seventee--I mean, five o'clock be okay? I've got to go somewhere first, but tonight would be terrific."
After he left I got on the phone to leave a message on Megan's voicemail. "Hey girlfriend. Gotta cancel tonight, but call me first thing in the morning." I thought about how Victor Galindez's fine tush looked as he walked out a few moments ago--oh yeah, I'm gonna get some of that tonight. "I hope to have one excellent tale to tell you. Bye."