I Let The Masseuse Jerk Me Off
The spa room was dimly lit. The gentle trickle of the small water feature added a soothing backdrop, but I couldn’t relax. Not entirely. Maybe it was the stress of the week, or maybe it was anticipation.
The knock came, light but firm.
“Come in,” I said, trying to sound casual.
The door opened, and she walked in. My breath hitched. She wasn’t what I had expected. Leah, her name tag read. She looked about my age, maybe a year or two younger.
Her cleavage was slightly on display. Her breasts were big, same with her ass.
Her hair was pinned up neatly, but a few dark strands had escaped, framing her face. And that face… Her features were soft and fucking angelic, with full lips and eyes that sparkled even in the low light.
“Good afternoon,” she said with a warm, professional smile. “I’m Leah. I’ll be your therapist today.”
Her voice was smooth, calming, but there was something else in her tone, an undercurrent I couldn’t quite place. Maybe, seductive?
I nodded, my throat dry. “Thanks, Leah.”
She moved gracefully across the room, setting a tray of oils down on the counter. Her movements were efficient, and her ass swayed as though the movement was intentional. I didn't want to stare, but my eyes betrayed me.
They followed the sway of her hips, the way her uniform shifted with each step. She turned back to me, catching me mid-stare. Her lips curved into the faintest smirk, so brief I almost thought I imagined it.
“Ready to get started?” she asked, her tone light.
I nodded again, lying face down on the table and adjusting the sheet over my lower half. My heart was beating faster than I wanted it to.
The first touch of her hands on my shoulders was like a jolt. Warm, firm, and practiced, but there was something about it that felt… personal. She worked methodically, kneading the tension out of my muscles, but every so often, her hands would linger, her fingers brushing my skin in a way that made my pulse quicken.
“You’re really tight here,” she said, her voice softer now, almost intimate.
“Yeah, it’s been a long week,” I managed, my voice slightly strained.
Her hands moved lower, working down my back. Each glide of her palms felt deliberate, almost exploratory. I tried to focus on the sensation, to relax, but my mind was spinning. The way her fingers pressed into my skin, the occasional brush of her forearm against my side— it was all too much.
“You’re holding a lot of tension,” Leah said again, her tone quieter this time, almost as if she were speaking more to herself than to me.
Her hands slid lower, kneading the muscles of my lower back. The edge of the sheet was barely clinging to modesty, and I felt her fingers brush dangerously close to where the fabric ended. My breath hitched, and I swore I saw her pause.
“You’re very tense,” she murmured, her voice so soft now that it sent a shiver down my spine.
I swallowed hard. “Yeah, I — uh, I’ve just had a lot on my mind.”
Her hands paused for a moment, resting lightly on my back. When she spoke again, her tone had shifted. It was still professional, but there was an edge to it, something unspoken. “Well, I’m here to help you relax.”
Her hands resumed their movements, slower this time, almost teasing. My body was betraying me, responding to every touch in ways I couldn’t control. I was hyper aware of her closeness, the warmth of her hands, the faint scent of her perfume— sweet and floral but with a hint of citrus.
When her hands grazed the top of my hip, just barely under the sheet, I felt the tension inside me snap. I adjusted my position slightly, and that’s when I realized it— my body’s response to her was painfully obvious. I was hard.
Leah noticed, her hands freezing for a split second. I felt her breath catch, saw her glance down before quickly looking away. Her cheeks flushed, but she recovered quickly, stepping back with a forced smile.
“Well,” she said, her voice a little tighter now, “I think that’s enough for today.”
She turned toward the counter, her movements quick and precise. I could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her hands fumbled slightly as she grabbed a towel. She was trying to regain control, but the atmosphere in the room had shifted entirely.
“I’ll step out while you get dressed,” she said, her voice a little too casual. But as she reached for the door, she hesitated, glancing back at me. Her eyes lingered for just a moment, her expression unreadable.
And then,
“Except you want me to help with that,” she said, eyes directly on my crotch. My hardness was visible now that I was sitting up.
“Fuck yes,” I answered without even thinking.
“I’m gonna be quick,” she said as she locked the door, rushed to me and knelt between my legs. The sheet covering me up was gone almost immediately, revealing my red, erect cock.
“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath, eyes lingering on my erection for a little too long.
“You said you'd be quick, baby,” I whispered, bringing my fingers into her hair.
She nodded, unable to speak, and quickly leaned in, taking me into her warm mouth. I couldn't stop the moan that left my lips as the tip of my cock easily hit her throat.
I've never had anyone deepthroat me so fast and easily before. The feeling of that alone pushed me very close to my climax.
“Fuck. If you continue keeping it there, I'm gonna cum too fast,” I told her.
She took her mouth off and smiled at me. “That’s the goal,” she said, before taking me in again, deeper than before.
I tugged at her hair, throwing my head back at the insane pleasure that coursed through me. I felt alive. So fucking alive.
In barely two minutes, I was bucking my hips wildly, fucking her throat while she stayed pliant for me.
It was too much.
“I… fuck, I'm gonna cum,” I announced before losing my shit. I shot my load deep into her throat and Leah swallowed it all. Every fucking drop.
She swallowed around my cock afterward, trying to milk more out of me. A few drops escaped and that was it.
I quickly pulled her off me as oversensitivity hit.
“Fuck. Who the hell are you?” I asked, breathing hard as I watched her get back on her feet. She simply smiled, dodging my question.
She made to leave again but I couldn't let her. I grabbed her hand and begged for her contact.
“Of course, handsome. I'd like to have you buried somewhere else next time if you're up,” she said with a smile, her fingers playing with my earlobe. I was gone. Far, far away. And I didn't intend on returning.
I saved her contact with “My sexy goddess.”
After a quick kiss, she left the room, leaving me a happy man who couldn't wait to see her again.
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