lightly brushing my naked body as he does it, sending tingles down my spine.
Walking round the bed so he is stood in front of my head I’m taken with an overwhelming desire to adjust my head so I can check out what he’s packing, if you know what I mean! But as he bends down to sprinkle some sweet smelling oil over my back it occurs to me that this manoeuvre could end up with me head-butting him right in the crotch. A giggle escapes my lips, which as I feel him momentarily stop sprinkling I quickly turn into a cough. Graciously he does not mention it, I’m guessing he must get this kind of behaviour a lot, at least I hope it’s not just me. Kate you are such a child I scold myself, mentally straightening out and re-setting my face into a more serious pose.
His hands are warm as they firmly take hold of my shoulders, his thumbs running circles from front to back, this is so…sensuous.
“They pressure?” he questions.
“Hmmm” I reply appreciatively, I could take it harder, but I don’t want to say anything and offend his expertise. Anyway, to give him his dues, it feels amazing.
I don’t know what it is, I’ve had massages before, but none have made me react this way. Is it really just because he is male, or is he more skilled? Is this how they are meant to feel, gender aside?
As he leans down running his thumbs down the length of my spine, his hands are surprisingly soft, I find myself, without even thinking, raising my body in an arch that follows the path of his fingers.
As he pushes down first the left then the right side of my body I ever so slightly ease each shoulder back to accommodate him and silently will his fingers to take full advantage of me.
He is, frustratingly, ever the professional, but as he gently raises the towel to cover my back and moves down to my legs I’m all but writhing beneath him again.
He starts at my feet, I’ve never been a fan of people touching my feet; I’m far too ticklish, but his firm grasp and slow movements instantly dissolve my tensions and quite frankly turn me on.
He gradually works his way up, past my ankles, onto my calves; as his fingers slide past my knees I feel that familiar fluttering in my groin. It’s been so long since I’ve been touched like this, in my everyday life it was just another factor amiss, glazed over and put aside in view of more important responsibilities.
But here and now, in this room, with its soft sensual lighting and exotic ambiance, with this taught young man pushing his fingers up my thighs, tantalisingly close, skimming over the line of my bikini bottoms before retreating back down, it’s an all too real, sexual torture.
I’m longing for his touch, for him to lift me off the bed and ravish me, right here, right now. As I part my legs a little wider, I’m thinking what more can I do to make this invite more obvious? I tentatively let out a small moan hoping to let him know my intentions, but he just keeps working away, unknowingly teasing me infuriatingly.
All too soon it’s over. I am relaxed yes, but satisfied no. “There’s Miss Kate, you rest, then you dress when you ready. Take all ze time you want” he whispers as he bows out of the room, leaving me all charged up with no one to fuck.
Oh well, in the sex department I am used to being left disappointed. All in all I would do that a thousand times more, over even the best of Jake's efforts.
The facial is non-eventful; one of the female staff does it, along with a head massage in the process. I wonder how I would have felt if this too was done by a man, I’m not sure being stroked in the face is quite so erotic mind.
Its around 19.00 when I finally leave the spa, the sun is low, casting shades of pink, orange, yellow and purple across the darkening sky as if by some aspiring artist using bold brushstrokes across the horizon.
Acting like a horny teenager has really taken it out of me, so I lug my heavy limbs back to my room, for room service, then bed.
Climbing the stone stairs I can see something at the top, reaching my door there is a pristine white box with a flourish of