Massage Stories Novels & Stories

She kissed her fondly on her cheek before heading out. And a few minutes later, the massage girl walked back in, wearing nothing but a red lacy underwear and carrying a bundle of black rope in her arms. She timidly approached her, standing right in front of her, awaiting orders. "What should I call you, beautiful?" "Anything you want, mistress."

Even so, I followed Hazz's excitement, following him by the hand as we were guided by a kind man who spoke both Portuguese and English. We entered the massage room, where only two beds were, as well as an oriental lady with a totally unparalleled education. She asked us to take off our bathrobes and lie down. At least we were already wearing underwear, because I warned Hazz that the massages were effective with the least possible use of pieces. We exchanged a single loaded look, and I imagined those oils being used for something else, and if it weren't for the kind lady, Hazz's malicious smile would have made me lose my composure.

And I’m so sore every muscle hurts. Rocket was worried so she made me come lay down on the massage table after a shower and a steam. She doesn’t want my muscles to get tight. So that is where I am now, naked on a table letting Rocket rub my muscles. Don’t worry I’m covered with a sheet. But none of my brothers trust anyone else to put their hands on me. Despite how much we playfully flirt we both know there is nothing to it and she is always professional when she does this. After my accident Rocket trained as a paramedic and massage therapist to help me out.

She's enjoying this fully. Justin is working carefully and professionally, which he is happy about after last night. He wants his mother to be proud of him and his skill. He skillfully massages Marsha up and down the spine, around the shoulder blades, her neck, and even down her hips into her gluts. Marsha is now feeling relaxed, but also starting to feel vulnerable now as she feels more naked with Justin's hands on her bum. She knows how professional he's behaving and tries to relax. On the upside, it feels absolutely fantastic. She never knew a massage felt so good.

Her response puzzled Lana. Noticing Lana's scrutiny, Marion joked, "Are you perhaps a doctor too?" The masseuse chimed in, "You wouldn't believe it, Madam. Lana's remedies are incredible. I used to have unbearable menstrual pain for a decade. But with only three doses of her prescribed supplements, it disappeared completely." Marion remained skeptical. "Is it really that amazing?" Lana didn't press further, replying indifferently, "Believe it or not, it's entirely up to you."

I landed on my bed, stretching forth my legs and smiling as i took out my phone and texted him. “Hey mami, how are you doing.” “I am good, i am on my bed masturbating ti the thoughts of you and i fucking.” He did not reply immediately. I was seeing the three dotted lines of typing but there was no meesage to show for it. “C’mon just send it, it had been almost five minutes.” “Okay, i am sorry but we have a strict policy on the client and masseur not sleeping together. I just resumed work and i do not want any problems with my boss.”

He had a very good hands, and knew the right places to put those talented fingers. Kathleen had emerged from the massage palour feeling almost liquid. All her muscles were relaxed, and it helped a lot that the massage therapist was good looking. They had exchange numbers afterwards, not that Kathleen was ever going to honor it. As much as she would like to loose herself in some meaningless sex, casual sex has never been her thing.

"I like how you care about me and support me. So no matter what happens to you, you'll always be my favorite mister!" Upon hearing that, Ambrose's heart trembled slightly. Larissa skillfully massaged several acupoints on his legs, making him feel comfortable. "You've learned massaging before?" He was surprised. "A doctor taught me when I was in the countryside back then," Larissa replied vaguely. Ambrose arched his brows and didn't ask anything more. Larissa would talk about it on her own if she wanted to. As expected, soon after, she tentatively said, "Mister, that doctor also taught me acupuncture and some medical knowledge. As long as I massage you every day, your leg muscles won't shrink

“Honestly? Not much lately. I used to love yoga, but even that fell off. Tried dating apps after the breakup, but everyone seems so… superficial. How about you? Being a massage therapist must be rewarding helping people unwind every day.” “It is,” she replied, her palms gliding down my back now, long smooth strokes that sent little waves of relief through me. “I love seeing clients leave lighter. But it’s intense work too. My hands get a workout, and sometimes I take the stress home with me. These long dark curls don’t help when I’m bent over tables all day.” She laughed lightly, and I could hear the smile in her voice.

I was just Hazel Sweeney, a woman about to become a mother. In the first month after leaving, Cameron called 37 times and sent over 20 text messages. From the initial "Where have you been?" to later "Hazel, don't make a fuss." Finally... Cameron: [You're alone out there and pregnant. What if something happens? Come back. We'll talk it out.] I did not reply to any of the messages, and then I changed my phone number. As for Winona, I heard she was admitted to the VIP ward arranged by Cameron and was enjoying the best medical resources.