Golden Finger Massage Novels & Stories

He drops his eyes from mine intentionally and once my hand is bare, he removes his own gloves, encasing my hand with his warmed calloused ones. “What are you doing?” The words fall from me in a breath. He doesn’t respond, instead, he presses his thumb roughly into the pad of my hand, eliciting a gasp from me as he moves to use two hands to massage my trembling hand and fingers. Pain makes way for relief as stroke by stroke my fingers loosen and my hand warms like my muscles are coming alive again, but this time a lot more willing to work.

“I know you care for us. I care about you as well.” I couldn’t help grinning. “Take your shirt off, Gem.” “My shirt?” She giggled. “Why do I need to take my shirt off?” There was something in her voice that told me she had a good idea why I wanted her shirt off. “I’m going to give you a massage.” I laughed right along with her. “You’re clicking and clacking like an eighty-year-old, and luckily for you, I give a killer massage. So lose the shirt and the bra and lay down. Let me make you feel better, Gem.”

I whisper in her ear, hugging her back full body once the gold completely returns. Once she lefts go, luckily, the gold doesn't flow out again. The feeling of her love enveloping me lingers. "Everything I touch with my...golden tip? Is, um, also turning gold. How are we getting rid of the gilt?" Kilyn practically begs. "Mund ta heqim gishtin." The doctor suggests something with a shrug.

Her hands slid down between my thighs, her long, oily fingers tracing the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, moving closer and closer to the base of my throbbing cock. Every single time she leaned forward to get more leverage, her own bare pussy brushed right against the back of my thigh, leaving a trail of wet heat on my skin. "Turn over for us, Jason," the dark-haired one commanded softly, her fingers giving the skin near my balls a gentle, teasing pinch. "It is time to finish your massage so you can go back to your lovely kess."

Kelly murmured as he continued to effleurage, letting his hands move to the sides of her back, not changing the pressure as he let his hands slide over the swell of her breasts bulging from the sides, noticing with satisfaction that the only reaction was Kelly sighing and settling even more deeply -- as if that were possible -- into the table. He then began to petrissage her lower back, kneading the muscles, concentrating on the quadratus lumborum, the muscle that connects the lower rib to the illiac crest, the origin of nearly all lower-back problems. He could just see the beginning of the crease splitting her ass, the gentle but seemingly perfect swell of her ass under the towel. He looked

"Bring me her alive!" The woman submerged in the wine inside the tub, emerged again from between the sovereign's legs, trying to suck in a breath of air. "Help me imbeciles!" yelled Guildor at his acolytes rising from the tub. His voluminous body dripped huge amounts of water. He leaned with his right hand on his black staff made of ebony with a silver hilt in the shape of a knob. A medallion embedded with a black opal in the shape of a half moon hung from his neck. He had snatched both from his father long ago.

I said, my voice steadier than I felt. She nodded and slid a laminated menu across the counter. I scanned it quickly—Swedish, deep tissue, hot stone—until my eyes landed on one near the bottom. “Um, this one,” I said, pointing. “The happy ending—what exactly is that?” Her smile didn’t falter. “It’s a full-body massage with focused attention on releasing tension in the erogenous zones. You get to satisfy yourself down there, with guidance if you’d like.” The words were so matter-of-fact they almost made me laugh. Almost. Instead. “Oh. That sounds… nice. I’ll take the two-hour session with the happy ending.”

The skin over his left shoulder was flushed a deep pink, radiating a localized heat where the deep-tissue massage had forcefully broken up the morning's muscular tightness. Jaxson was kneeling on the rubber floor between his legs. The captain’s massive hands were slick with a clear, medical-grade warming gel, his thick thumbs working with an uncompromising, heavy rhythm into the dense knotting beneath Liam’s left shoulder blade. Every time Jaxson lean-pressed into the muscle, a sharp, white-hot line of tension would shoot down Liam’s arm, forcing a quiet, ragged gasp past his lips.

Jaden, not to be outdone, shouted from the chair next to me, “Mom, it’s ticklish! But it feels good! Really good!” I giggled at his enthusiasm. “I can see that, sweetheart. You’re lucky, it feels like magic, doesn’t it?” The staff moved gently between all of us, kneading our feet, pressing along our arches, and applying warm oil that smelled of sandalwood. Theron started humming quietly, the soft warmth of the water and the massage making him feel dreamy. Jaden, on the other hand, kept wiggling and laughing, making tiny faces like he was trying not to squirm.

She started to massage my back and the feeling was great. “Gold fingers,” I muttered dreamily. “Well, thank you,” she mused. It was no joke. She massaged so well and I wasn’t exaggerating anything. She knew the stressed parts and spots, massaging them till I felt like drooling. She even did it better than the Royal massager we had back in Zagreh. Suddenly, she started massaging this soft spot I didn’t know I had around my lower back. “Ohhh,” a moan escaped my lips and I relaxed even more.