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The Massage  

Iamholdingmyown 77M
0 posts
2/9/2022 2:13 pm
The Massage

It is not a massage that you want at all; is it?

What you want is his gentle fingers softly touching and gliding over your silken skin; not quite a tickle but rather a sensation that something is trying to dissolve and absorb effortlessly through your outer self into the deep recesses of your lifeforce.

He caresses your thighs but begins at the back of your knee, the crease that somehow is more sensitive than it should be. He draws his finger first across and back then and down slowly milking the energy out of your legs. His hands move cautiously yet powerfully the back of your thighs and stops abruptly just before he reaches your buttocks. He continues to lightly caress both legs up and down from the back of the knee and stopping before the buttocks. The repetition of his motion becomes like a dance of feathered fairies up and down your legs never reaching what you want him to reach. Your inner self screams, “please, please more of me”.

He seems to know what you are asking for (‘did I say it out loud?’). He slowly lovingly moves his hands over your buttocks and around your hips but to the satin sheet you are laying on.

He moves all the way down to your feet, (“ but I’m ticklish please don’t tickle me now”) but somehow his touch doesn’t tickle it seems to draw whatever energy you have left from your legs to your belly and siphons it into his hands. Now he holds all your power, energy, sensuous will in his hands. Your vulva throbs with selfish delight now please do it.

(“Did he hear me again!”) he moves closer over me not touching but close enough that I can feel his heat warming my body. “I have never been this hot before”. You know him well by now and you know that he has been hard for long time. You reach around trying to touch him, but he gently moves your hand away and whispers “Not now, not tonight: tonight, is for my love for you, we’ll grow our love and our lust from tonight into forever; this is my to you.”

He gently turns you on your back. He stares into your eyes. He sees nothing but the truth of his love for you. He is trying to will you to love him, he doesn’t know you already do. He draws a line across your chest along your breasts and across your abdomen. He knows where your soul is: he just showed you. He is trying to conjure it; to draw it out of you to him but what he doesn’t know is that you gave it to him long ago.

You need to release your inner most desires and fantasies to a rush, a torrent of hot<b> blood </font></b>flowing…. roaring like river rapids, into your vagina and the lips of your engorged labia; your clitoris now erect and hard like the penis it emulates; your hips wriggling in delight with these glorious sensations roiling throughout your body; he is drawing the best and the worst out of you now.

He is not even touching you. He is part of you, within you. He gently places his hand over that most sensuous part of your aching body and now the ultimate explosion, a climax that raises your body suspending it above the earthly realm you left behind.

This has never happened before a simple touch of his hand! You shake and shiver timidly, tenuously waiting for his next tender touches, tingling as the lust begins to build.

Is that what you really want. Just asking #yorclimax

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