Backdoor Massage Novels & Stories

“Just breathe, Emily. Let me take care of you.” He poured more warm oil and moved lower, massaging my mid-back. The scent of lavender filled the room. His hands felt so good that I was starting to relax despite how wrong this felt. Then his hands moved even lower. He massaged my lower back, right above my ass, pressing and kneading. I bit my lip. Slowly, his oiled hands slid over my ass cheeks, massaging them firmly through the thin silk. My breathing became heavier. He continued down to my thighs, his strong fingers working the muscles. Then, as he was stroking the inside of my thigh, his slippery hand “slipped” higher.

His head tilts slightly, but he doesn’t react, doesn’t flinch. The silence stretches, heavy, charged, and I feel the bond between us pulling me closer. My hands move slower, more deliberate, tracing the lines of his muscles. His scent, something wild fills my lungs. And I can’t help but trace every detail of his back as I felt the skin. “Arh,” he murmurs out a groan. I paused and swallowed again. My mother had taught me how to massage. Focusing on every part of the joints especially the waist. She’s tried it on me multiple times and I felt so so. Using that technique of Alaric would help him relax right?

It’s either that or go broke, so while I’m here, I might as well try to enjoy myself. I take a deep breath and do my best to relax. Anthony’s hands move down my spine to my lower back. This is usually the part where the person giving the massage tickles the person receiving the massage by wrapping their fingers around the person’s sides while they apply pressure with their thumbs. I’m shocked when Anthony avoids this mistake entirely. He positions his hands perfectly, and as he presses down with his thumbs, I’m unable to stop the groan of satisfaction that pushes its way out from my lips.

I continued the massage, working her lower back with firm, rhythmic pressure. Through the gap between her thighs, I could see her neatly shaved pussy. What kind of middle-aged divorcée kept her pussy fresh and warm? Perfectly ripe! I slid the towel higher, exposing the full curve of her ass. "Isn't... that supposed to stay on?" Shut up! Before she could lift her head, I pressed it back to the table with one hand, and used the other to knead her lower spine. "H... Hurst? Is that you? What are you doing?"

"You carry the world like it's your job to keep it from spinning." He moved to my arms, his slick palms sliding from my wrists to my shoulders, then down the length of my spine. The massage was methodical, a slow-burn seduction disguised as care. When his hands reached my ass, he didn't hesitate. He poured more oil, the liquid pooling in the small of my back before he spread it across the curves of my seat. He kneaded the flesh, his fingers slipping and sliding, the friction generating a heat that made my breath hitch.

In the exclusive private spa of the city’s most sought-after masseur, 38 years Marcus offers more than just relaxation. His hands are legendary for melting tension and unlocking deep, hidden desires. When Ryan the high strung executive client books a late night deep tissue session, Marcus quickly discovers that Ryan’s body is carrying far more than work stress. What begins as professional massage quickly turns into raw, sensual exploration... slow, oily strokes, deep tissue release, and intense full-body sessions that leave both men craving more. In the quiet, dimly lit treatment room, boundaries dissolve as professional touch becomes deeply intimate, possessive, and addictive.

His hands move slowly over my back first, learning the shape of it, and then his thumbs press down either side of my spine with firm strokes that are technically massage and functionally another thing entirely, and I bury my face in the pillow and let myself feel it. He leans down and puts his mouth at the back of my neck, and his hands slide to my hips and grip, and he lifts them slightly, getting me into position, and I understand what he wants and I give it to him without argument. He enters me from behind in one slow, deep stroke, and I feel the stretch of him all the way through me, and the muffled sound I make into the pillow is embarrassing and I fully don't care. He pauses, buried de

I grabbed the bottle, headed back out to the bedroom. "Can you touch your toes?" I asked her. Her face screwed up in confusion. "Huh?" I rolled my eyes at her. "Can you touch your toes?" I enunciated each word carefully. She nodded as she glared at me. "Fine. Then tell me what you want to wear to bed. I'll get it for you. You can put it on under your dress. When you're set, take your dress off. I just need to be able to get to your thighs. Humans have large pockets of lymph nodes in their groins and behind their knees. We're going to be forcing both into overtime with this massage."

It was all I could do to keep my hard-on under control. After she sat on the floor, I sat on the couch behind her and told her to scooch back. I put my hands on her stout shoulders, massaging the knots from her tense neck and upper back muscles. As time went on, I got a little more daring, slipping my hands under her shirt and caressing and kneading her middle and upper back.

like the bimbo she was. His powerful thumbs pressed deeper into her low back, waves of pleasure wrapped around to her front side, and the last of her frustration gave in to the sensation of Jordan's amazing thumbs. "It's only a massage, we're not doing anything wrong... yet" he teased her, giving her massive ass a slow but noticeable thrust.