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The Massage

Author: Anon
Publish Date : Oct 21, 2004
Printable Page : Print This Story

I put on Black Sabbath's first album and turned off the lights while she undressed down to her panties and lay on the bed on her stomach. I tied the blindfold around her head and regarded her body hungrily. She was wearing white cotton panties, which covered what she had but which gave her an air of sweet innocence. I took off my shoes and socks, leaving on my shorts and t-shirt, and squirted a blob of lotion into my hand. I usually rubbed my hands together to warm the lotion but this time I slapped it straight onto her back while it was still cold. She let out a squeal, "It's cold!"

* * * * * * *

When I was a senior in high school, I had a friend named Angie. Angie was two years younger than me. She had long black hair parted down the middle, plump tits which seemd always ready to burst from her tight t-shirts, and a voluptuous, curvy body. I lusted for her like no other girl I have ever known, but we were just friends. Sometimes we would go swimming together, driving to the lake in my car.

When we arrived we would change into our swimsuits in the car. I looked away out of politeness but was always clever enough to catch a view of her lovely melons in the rearview mirror. When I changed, I took my time, hoping she would catch a glimpse of my dick but she was always looking out the window.

During the winter months, we spent a lot of time at her house in her room, listening to records. We both loved music and knew a lot about it, and so we could stay up late into the night, lying on her bed, looking out the window and talking. I could barely conceal my adoration for her, and one night, I told her, "Close your eyes."


"I have a surprise for you."

She closed them and waited for her surprise. I leaned over and pressed my lips to hers. I kissed her for several seconds. She did not return the kiss, but she didn't draw away, either. When I stopped, she said, "Paul, I don't think of you that way. I value our friendship and don't want to ruin it."

I never tried to kiss her again. We remained friends, and still spent much time together in her room, listening to records.

One night, she asked for a backrub. She lay on her stomach, and I went to work on her shoulders, working my way down as far as the waistband of her sweatpants. There was nothing sexual or even remarkable about it. However, the next night she asked again. This time, soon after I had started, she said, "Wait, let me take my bra off."

She removed it from under her t-shirt and lay back down. Unfortunately she was careful not to reveal anything. The removal of her bra enabled me to massage her back more efficiently and without the interference of any straps. After several minutes, I had bravely slipped my hands under her shirt and was moving them over her smooth, warm skin. Innocently she purred, "Oh, that feels so good!"

This was too much. Didn't she know how much I lusted after her Nevertheless, I was too afraid to risk anything. I cared for her as a friend and didn't want to make her mad, so I dutifully rubbed her back while my dick throbbed in my pants.

This routine went on for weeks, then months, and eventually Angie was comfortable enough to remove her shirt entirely; sometimes I got a good look at her breasts but usually not. Then one day I got a brilliant idea (readers will wonder why I had not thought of this sooner) and expanded the backrub to include her arms, hands, fingers, thighs, calves, feet, face, neck, even her buttocks.

By now I had caressed, kneaded, and squeezed every part of her body except her breasts and pubic region. She was removing more clothing, and soon she was stripping to just a pair of gym shorts. I would sit on the bed with my back to the wall, and she would lean back in my arms while I rubbed her neck and shoulders. Her eyes would be closed, but mine would be staring down at her tits and swollen nipples.

Finally I could take it no more, and gently cupped her tits in my hands. She squirmed a little, but made no attempt to stop me, as I kneaded them gently. I stroked the sides with my fingers, I weighed them in my palms, I squooshed them flat against her chest. I did it very "professionally" the was a real masseur might. There was still no suggestion of sex, our massage routine was still just that--a massage and no more.

I was in heaven. The messages were now lasting a full hour. Lotion was added to the mix, then later a blindfold. I began to wonder, "Did she want me Was I one step away from a wild fuck session Was she waiting for me to make a move" I remembered her warning after I had kissed her some months ago. I decided to go one step further. During one massage, I let my hand brush against her pussy. No reaction. Again I brushed it, harder this time. Nothing.

I pretended it was all part of the routine, my fingers would caress her foot, calf, thigh, pubic mound, her crack, other thigh, calf, foot, then repeat. I never lingered long, as I didn't want to give her the impression that my moves were anything but legitimate. She trusted me not to attack her, and I shouldn't betray that trust. She had let me take it this far, and that was as far as it should go. We were just friends, after all.

One night I got the brilliant idea to ask her if she would give me a massage. She seemed uninterested, but went through the motions anyway after I stripped to my underwear and lay on the bed. The whole massage lasted about two minutes before she exclaimed, "My turn!" I never asked her again.

Finally, I decided I would see how far I could go. I began to look upon her as less of a friend and more of a sex object. I couldn't help it! I felt like she was using me. I was giving her everything she wanted and nothing she didn't want; she was giving me the worst case of blue balls mankind had ever known. One warm summer night, months after I had given her the first massage, I entered her room with an air of determination.

I put on Black Sabbath's first album and turned off the lights while she undressed down to her panties and lay on the bed on her stomach. I tied the blindfold around her head and regarded her body hungrily. She was wearing white cotton panties, which covered what she had but which gave her an air of sweet innocence. I took off my shoes and socks, leaving on my shorts and t-shirt, and squirted a blob of lotion into my hand. I usually rubbed my hands together to warm the lotion but this time I slapped it straight onto her back while it was still cold. She let out a squeal, "It's cold!"

I straddled her ass as if it were a saddle, and began to gently rub the lotion onto her neck and shoulders. She used her arms as a pillow, so they were raised above her head. This left the sides of her breasts exposed. I rubbed the sides of them where they bulged from under her chest. I then moved my way down to hewr lower back.

Next, I raised the band of her panties and slipped a hand inside, rubbing her ass cheeks. She gave no reaction, so I pulled them down a bit, exposing her cheeks, then slapped one. She squealed but did nothing else. I pulled her panties back up and got to work on her feet. I rubbed between her toes and caressed her feet a long time, before moving up to her calves, then the back on her knees, then her thighs. I let my hands slip as far up as her crotch, which felt hot.

I grabbed her thighs and pulled them apart, just a little, then rubbed the extra-soft region just below her pussy, which I could smell. I breathed hot breath on her twat, which was hidden just beneath a thin layer of white 100% cotton, then turned her over.

I straddled her once again and grabbed her tits. These I rubbed, squeezed, stroked with my fingertips, then gave the nipples a gentle squeeze. No reation from Angie whatsoever. I moved down her belly while pondering my next move. My dick was on fire. It was so hard it hurt a little bit. Side One of the album ended, so I left her and turned it over to Side Two.

The moonlight was streaming through her window, illuminating her almost naked body. Her skin was pale, almost white, her lips were full and and pouty, her hair black as night. Her nipples stood erect and pink. As I clambered back onto the bed her breasts jiggled. I gently lifted the eleastic band on her panties and rubbed her pubic mound, just for a second before pulling my hand out and moving down her legs. I didn't want to alarm her; I was having a good time. I wanted this to last through Side Two at least.

She raised her arms over her head and put them behind her head, which had the effect of making her breasts stand out even further. Instinctively I moved back up her legs, brushing my hand over her crocth rather roughly, straddling her and pressing my body against hers. I knew she could feel my hardness against her leg. I climbed forward and let my dick rub against her for a moment.

I knew for certain that she knew this was turning me on. But was it turning her on I no longer cared. As "A Bit of Finger" began to playon the record player, I chuckled as I rubbed my finger over her slit. The white cotton was moist: this was turning her on, as well. If I weren't such a coward I might have taken her right there, but I was still afraid. I wasn't sure she wouldn't sit up suddenly and say, "No, Paul! That's enough!"

My dick was so hot I was sure it was glowing like a white-hot poker. I carefull took off my shorts but left my briefs on, then straddled her once more. Slowly, I pulled down the waistband of my underwear, exposing my full erection. I put more lotion on my hand, then began to stroke myself with one hand, while kneading one of her tits with my other hand. I moved slowly, so she wouldn't guess what I was doing. I pinched one nipple, then the other, and I jacked off with the lotion.

Awkwardly, I moved down and took a deep breath of her pussy odor, which was potent and which served only to arouse me more. I let my lips brush against the fabric covering her mound, then licked her thigh, before positioning myself once again atop her as if if I were riding a horse. I was getting ready to cum, so I pumped my dick faster and faster as I squeezed a tit, a little too hard, I think, for I was also using it for support, for she uttered a faint, "Ouch!"

Finally I exploded with a muffled grunt as a thick, gooey rope of cum made a stripe on her body from her navel to her cheek. A second squirt coated a breast, a third landed on her arm. I stopped for a moment and licked the cum off her cheek, thankful she was still blindfolded. She seemed oblivious to the whole thing.

I grabbed the lotion bottle and squirted some lotion on her in various places. Did she not notice the difference in temperature between my hot jism and the cold lotion She certainly said nothing as I began to rub a cum/lotion mixture into her young flesh.

Later, after I removed the blindfold, she said to me, "That was sooo relaxing. Thank you so much, Paul." She said this without any indication that she knew what I had done.

Soon after this I moved away to go to college, and I never got to fuck my delightful, lovely friend

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