The Massage… I hope you enjoy Part 2 of the story. If you missed it, here’s Part 1. 

the massage.

I didn’t speak. I couldn’t. Slowly, I lifted my head and turned myself over under the sheet. My heart pounded harder and faster but I couldn’t look away from his eyes. He had some kind of gripping power over me, holding my gaze with his. At least until I became aware of the sheet falling from me.

I tore my eyes away and adjusted the sheet to cover myself. He walked around to my head with a small pillow. He slid his fingers into my hair to lift my head and slip the pillow underneath.

“Are you comfortable?”

God, no! I’m dying to rip your clothes off!  “Yes.”

He took a few steps back until he reached the foot of the table. His eyes on mine instead of on his own hands, he pushed the sheet up my legs just a bit. He lifted one of my feet into his hands and his thumbs took turns running along the arch from my heel to my toes.

I finally had to close my eyes. The rate of my pounding heart began to frighten me. I was certain he felt my breathing deepen because his hands reacted to it. Wrapped around my ankle, the pressure of his touch was just right. Slowly, around and back to my foot, warming me all the way to my toes. My toes. He held each one in his fingers before resting my foot back on the table. The moment he touched my other foot, I parted my lips to let out a little sigh.

After attending to the last of my toes, he gently pushed the sheet up until my entire leg was exposed. His hands surrounded it, starting at my ankle, deeply rubbing into my flesh all the way up to my thigh. I loved that he never stopped touching me. His fingers lingered on one leg while he uncovered the other. He slowly worked his way up my other leg. And my insides melted.

He returned the sheet to its position draped over my legs. I anxiously awaited his next touch, but not for long. He slid a hand under the sheet and took my arm. He pulled it to him and placed my hand on his chest. I could feel his heart beating and it made mine race. Beginning at my shoulder, he massaged every muscle, working his way down past my elbow and along my forearm. He took my hand from his chest and his fingers massaged each of mine.

Not opening my eyes to stare at him again was almost torture. Especially because I could feel his eyes on me. But I resisted. And I enjoyed every moment of his attention to my other arm, hand, fingers. I took a deep breath as he gently rested my arm beside me. And when I felt the back of his hand brush across my stomach, I shivered and knew he felt it.

Still lying silently with my eyes closed, I heard him pull a stool up behind my head. He sat down and placed his hands on my face. I thought the intimacy might be more than I could handle. I tried to relax but it was impossible. Starting on my forehead, he ran his fingers around my face, along my jaw line, under my chin, and onto my neck.

He spread his hands over my shoulders and slowly slid them forward, heading down towards my chest.  He met the sheet just above my breasts.  Oh God. Just pull the sheet off me!

With his head so close to mine, I could feel his sweet breath on my face. I struggled to decide which was more torturous – keeping my eyes closed or opening them. But it didn’t matter. I had to look. And when I opened my eyes, his were right there ready to dive into mine. His hands continued their work on my shoulders and my neck, but his eyes – they seemed to have a mission all their own.

He stood and gently kicked the stool away. He could get more strength from his arms when he was standing. God, the look in his eyes… I took a deep breath and stared at him, almost begging with my eyes.  But could he see that? Could he hear me even in silence?

As his hands traveled over my shoulders and down my arms, he leaned his entire body down over mine.  His face was so close to me… to my mouth. I had an overwhelming desire to lift my head to his. Despite feeling almost paralyzed by his stare, I managed to lift myself slightly to bring our eyes just that much closer.  That must have been the signal he was waiting for.

His breath, so warm and sweet, flowed right between my parted lips. I gasped softly and sighed and that only pulled him in closer. When I felt his lips brush lightly over mine, I thought my heart was going to quit. He let my arms go and slid his hands back up to my face. Our lips still touched gently… barely kissing.

Never letting our mouths stray far from each other, he moved to my side, wanting to look into my eyes as our lips teased. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but he said nothing. He licked his lips and then gently ran his fingers over my eyes, closing them. As soon as my eyes closed, I felt his mouth on mine. His tongue slipped between my lips, and I welcomed it with mine.

I lifted my arms and reached for his shoulders. I had to pull him closer to me. His lips felt so soft on mine.  I couldn’t let him stop kissing me. I slid my hands up his neck and let my fingers tangle in his hair. And one of his hands left my face and slowly trailed down over my neck to my chest until he reached the sheet.

 >> to be continued <<

© 2016 what sandra thinks