Hello everyone I decided to share what happened to me last week. I still can’t believe it happened to me. I’ve never written anything like this, so don’t judge me harshly.
A little bit about myself. My name is Lena, I am thirty-two years old, I have been married for six years. I have a good relationship with my husband, but everything is very bland in bed. He’s trying, I’m trying, but it’s more like fulfilling marital duty than real sex. I can’t even remember the last time I experienced something really spicy. That’s probably why it all happened.
A friend advised me to get a massage a long time ago. She said it helps to relax, distract yourself, and feel like a woman. I kept refusing, but then I signed up anyway. I chose a more expensive salon so that everything would be decent. I asked a man for a massage therapist โ my friend said that men have stronger hands and work their backs better. To be honest, I just imagined that men’s hands on my body were something forbidden and pleasant. But she didn’t admit it to herself.
She arrived. The interior was cozy, with dimmed lights, and smelled of some kind of oils. The receptionist escorted me to the office and said that the master would be right there. I undressed, lay down on the couch, and covered myself with a sheet. My heart was pounding like it was before an exam.
He entered quietly. I heard the door close, and only then his voice. Calm, low. Introduced himself as Andrey. He asked if there were any problems with his back, what to look for. He spoke so casually that I calmed down a little.
I started with the shoulders. His hands were warm, confident. He was kneading my trapezes, my neck, and I felt the tension slowly go away. Everything was within the bounds of decency. Well, almost. When he went down to the small of my back, his fingers brushed the edge of the sheet that covered me to the middle of my thighs. I froze. He didn’t do anything unnecessary, just adjusted the fabric, but this casual touch to bare skin sent a shiver through his body.
Then he moved on to his feet. He opened one leg to the knee and began to rub his calf. His movements were strong but neat. Gradually he rose higher. When his fingers touched the back of my thigh, I involuntarily squeezed my legs. He stopped.
“Relax,โ he said softly. โ You can’t work out your muscles like that.
I tried. But when his palm rested on my buttock through the sheet and began to knead, I realized that I was breathing through one. He didn’t ask for permission. I was just doing my job. But his hands were too close to the place where everything was on fire.
He covered me with a sheet and moved to the other leg. It all happened again. And this time I didn’t shrink. On the contrary, I found myself spreading my thighs a little. Just a few centimeters. Just to feel the cool air where it got too hot.
He seems to have noticed it. But he didn’t show it.
Then he asked me to turn over on my back. I hesitated, but turned over. Now I was lying in front of him, covered only by a thin sheet. He stood next to me and looked at me. Not as a doctor, but as a man. It only lasted a second, but I managed to see that look.
He started from the front of the neck, down to the collarbones. His fingers glided over my skin lightly, barely touching. It was no longer a therapeutic effect, but something completely different. I closed my eyes so as not to give myself away. I was afraid that he would see too much in them.
He pulled back the edge of the sheet, revealing my breasts. I jerked, wanted to say something, but he gently pressed his palm on my shoulder.
“It’s necessary,” he said in the same calm tone. โ The pectoral muscles are also clamped.
I couldn’t think of an answer. He started massaging the area above his chest, then around it. His fingers circled, moving closer to her nipples. I could feel them hardening. bukvoeb.run felt ashamed, but also good at the same time. When he finally ran his thumb over my nipple itself, I sobbed softly.
He pretended he hadn’t heard.
His hands dropped to his stomach. I could feel my muscles flexing under his palms. He pressed, rubbed, and thenโI don’t know how it happenedโbut his hand was between my legs. I shuddered and clenched my knees, but he didn’t take his hand away.
“Trust me,” he said, almost in a whisper.
And I must have lost my mind. Because I spread my legs.
Then everything was a blur. His fingers slid down the inside of my thigh, then higher. The sheet was gone. I was lying completely naked, and he was still dressed. This made me feel particularly vulnerable and therefore even more aroused.
He started caressing me there. Slowly, but surely. His fingers found the most sensitive spots, and I could no longer hold back my moans. I gripped the edges of the couch with my hands. Everything that was happening seemed like a dream, but the sensations were too vivid.
Andrey spread my legs wider. I didn’t resist. He unbuttoned his fly, and for the first time I saw his cock. He was big. Too much, actually. I was afraid it would hurt.
But it didn’t hurt. He entered slowly but deeply. I felt like he was filling me up completely. The body responded on its own. I moaned loudly, no longer caring what anyone else might hear.
He started to move. Measured at first, then faster and harder. His hands were on my hips. The couch creaked. I forgot about everything in the world: about my husband, about decency, that it was wrong. I was just a body that finally got what it had been waiting for.
I came quickly. I’ve never come so vividly in my life. But he didn’t stop. He turned me over on my stomach and put me on my knees. I buried my face in the pillow, and he came in from behind again. So deep that I cried out. Sparks flashed in front of his eyes with every thrust.
He leaned over and whispered something in my ear. I couldn’t make out the words. I just felt his breath on my neck.
After a few minutes, he came out and came on my back. I lay there, unable to move. He silently took a towel and dried me. I thought he was going to say something, explain, but he just said:
โ The session is over.
I got dressed on shaky legs. She left the office like a drunk. The receptionist smiled sweetly and asked if I liked it. I nodded.
Since then, I’ve been thinking about only one thing: when will I go there again.