My New Massage Therapist

Ever since hurting myself playing girl’s volleyball my senior year in high school, I’ve been getting massages.  I don’t need them, per say, anymore, but I love them.  That was three years ago.  I have a membership at a massage place and I go at least once a month.  The good thing about massage is obvious, they feel so good.  The bad thing, for me, is every time I find the perfect massage therapist, without fail, they leave not long after.  And then the search begins again.

Such was the case on this day, when I wandered into my regular place of heavenly bliss, Hydrastone.  They specialize in hot stone massage and a new water massage technique that I still haven’t tried.  I work out three days a week and my muscles are sometimes a bit broken.  I am by no means a body builder, but I like to keep a slim and tone physique.  I like to take care of my body, after all, I’m stuck with it forever.

Rachel was gone.  She was my regular masseuse up until a month ago.  I miss her.  She knew just where to hit my shoulders, my back, and my thighs.  And at the end the way she rubbed my face and head would nearly send me into a coma.  I’ve had two massages since she left.  One by a guy whose hands were far to rough, and another by a chick who, quite frankly, just wasn’t very good.

Today I was greeted by Samantha.  I was shocked to say the least.  She is my step mom.  I knew she was in the process of getting her license, but had no idea she would be working at my spot!  It’s no big deal, we’ve gotten along quite well over the years.  My dad married her when I was 15.  It was an amicable divorce between he and my mom.  Both were happier, and that was fine with me.  Samantha was younger than my mom, but not by much, a paltry four years.  She looked different in our massage scrubs, more relaxed.  I had only really seen her at fancy occasions.  Dinners out, holidays, a vacation in Europe once.  She dresses really nice, and always looks fabulous.  I see why my dad picked her.  She certainly isn’t bad to look at.

We both had a good laugh when the receptionist introduced her.  We filled the teenage girl working the counter in on why we were laughing and she seemed to not know what to do.  I told her that I could come back another time, or wait on a difference therapist, it really wasn’t a big deal.  Sam insisted that if I was okay with her massaging me, that she was okay with it to.  Fine, whatever.  My muscles needed some TLC.  Yesterday was a rough workout and I could definitely use a soothing touch.

Sam led me into an empty room, a typical massage room.  Table in the center with fresh white linens, a pillow at the foot and hole in the center at the top.  The lighting was dim, romantic even.  Soft music played and the temperature was perfect.  She told me to undress to my comfort level and she would return.

I undressed all the way, I always do.  My yoga pants, panties, sports bra and top folded neatly onto the chair.  I got onto the bed, face down, and pulled the sheet so that it covered just above my ass.  A few seconds later, my stepmom was back.

She didn’t say a word, she just began.  Her touch was incredible.  The pressure was near perfect as she got to the knots on my back.  She went a little harder in the trouble spots.  I was enjoying it.

“You’re quite good,” I whispered.  “I’ve been trying to find a regular since mine left over a month ago.”

“Thanks sweetie,” she replied, “Just relax, I’ll take care of you.”

Her voice was different here.  Soft and soothing.  Professional but almost sexy.

She worked over my back and shoulders and my legs.  It all felt so good.  She told me it was time to flip and she held the sheet up, separating us.  I flipped over.  Before she put the sheet back down she asked if I wanted my breasts covered or not.  I told her no that it was fine.  She draped a towel just above my nether regions, a few inches below my navel.  The bottom feel high onto my thighs and she removed the sheet.  She stood at the head of the table and massaged my chest.  It felt so good.  My nipples were getting erect, if she noticed, nothing was said, she remained professional.  She worked her way around my sides and then to the foot of the table.

From their, she massaged my legs.  She had already hit my calves when I was on my tummy.  Her hands moved up to my thighs, kneading my muscles in her hands.  Her touch was soft yet firm.  So amazing.  She went a little higher than usual, pressing deep into my muscles, as her hands slid along the crevice where my hips and legs meet.  Still professional, but damn it was kind of turning me on.  I spread my legs every so slightly, hoping she would notice but think it was involuntary.  She worked her hands like magic, then she came back to the head of the bed.  She replenished the oil on her hands and gently began to rub my stomach.

“Some clients like their tummy massaged, some don’t.  What about you?”

“Yes please,” I said in a semi unconscious state.

She squirted a bit of oil on my tummy.  Some seeped into my navel.  She lightly began to touch me.  Her hands were like feathers, tickling my tummy ever so slightly.  Her hands went lower, to just above the towel.  She rubbed me gently and then her hands slid under the towel, just a little.  I moaned, I’m sure of it, and spread my legs a little more.  Her hands went farther as she scooted closer to the head of the table.  She bent over and moved her hands a little farther.  Her fingers were again along the crevice of my hips and upper thighs.  I let out a sigh.

“Is that okay?” she whispered.

“Yes, oh yes.  It feels amazing,” I stammered back, barely able to get the words out.

“Just relax baby,” she said as her fingers pressed inward, pushing my pussy lips together.  Her hands moved back and forth, just along the outside of my vagina.  Oil seeped from her hands down my crack toward my ass.  She rubbed a little harder.  I was panting now, and so turned on.  My stepmom was touching me in a very naughty place.  Her hands went farther down still, teasing the region between my pussy and ass.  I moaned a little more.  Her fingers traced their way back up, right across the center of my pussy, teasing my clit as she went higher.  She repeated this motion a few times.

“Fuck, Sam, that feels so good.  Don’t stop.” I shouted in a whisper.

She moved her hands a little faster.  She bent down farther still, straddling my face with her scrubs still on.  She moved her hands out of the way and gave my clit a light flick with her tongue.  Holy fuck!  I was beyond turned on.  I had never fooled around with a therapist and never had naughty lesbian thoughts of my step mom.  I had never even fooled around with a girl before.  All that changed in a matter of seconds.  I reached behind my head with my hands and grabbed her ass.  I tried to tug at her scrubs, but she backed away.

“No dear, this is just for you.  Relax.”  And with that she removed the towel and walked to the foot of the bed.  She removed the top to her scrubs revealing a sexy rose colored bra that barely contained her D size tits.  She unhooked it and let it fall to floor.  She climbed on top of the bed, and began kissing my inner thigh.  Higher and higher until she got to my pussy.  I was already soaking wet from her teasing me.  She engulfed my clit and slid her tongue inside me.  In less than two minutes I began to shake.  It took all I had to let out a high pitched shrill as I came.  She got up, retrieved a warm wash cloth and washed me in all the right places.  She put her bra and top back on, smiled, and said, “Meet you outside, our time is up.  Oh, and don’t tell your father.”  She gave me a devilish smile and exited the room.