Fisting First

It was the weekend. I worked hard all week and I needed to relax. I also needed sexual relief. I woke up and began searching online for a new spa. One with the right atmosphere. It's all about the atmosphere. Last minute massage appointments were usually hard to find. There were other Saturdays where I woke up feeling the same way, but could not find an opening anywhere. Today -- luck.

You get what you pay for. That's why I didn't have any problem with the $210 fee for the "Indulgent Treat" massage offered at the day spa on the other side of town. I started getting psyched after my appointment 5 hours from now. Was there any chance I could be so lucky as to find a massage therapist who bordered on the illegal? Would I find someone who would bring me to orgasm during my massage?

The very thought of the possibility caused my clit to swell. I could feel the blood pulsing between my legs. My pussy was slippery and wet. And it was only 8AM.

I have gone for a massage before hoping the therapist would touch me in the zones others avoid. I'd lay on the table, "accidently" expose a nipple...nothing. I'd turn over, accidently flash my cleanly shaved pussy...nothing. The closest I ever got to finding the "right" massage therapist was when I was about 22 years old. I was hot and firm. She did something that was never done before, and never done since...my abdomen and breast bone. I was too young to notice the subtle cues, but in hindsight, I know if I'd have only flashed a nipple over the strategically placed towel, or exposed my pink twat, the massage could have resulted in much more. I remember the smell of the oil -- Neutrogena RainBath Oil. Every time I smell it today, my pussy still drips. Ah, youth is wasted on the young.

After a light breakfast, I began to prepare for the day. A long shower and a close shave of my pussy was the required activity. I took the creamy lather and a fresh blade and began to remove every strand of pussy hair from my super-swollen hotbox. You women know what a process this is. Touching, swiping. Touching, swiping. Creamy lather...oops...did I just slip my finger into my own pussy? My asshole needed to be shaved too...no, it is not hairy, but, when I say "bald" I mean bald.

Lotions, oils, creams...all before the massage...in anticipation of another female spending the next 90 minutes touching me. I needed this. I deserve this. No. I am not a lesbian. I could never have that type of ongoing relationship with another woman. I do like pleasure, though. And the thought of be pleasured by someone who could NOT get me pregnant, and is curvy and fine, is intriguing. Yes. It's a fantasy.

After my shower, I lay down on my bed. I can't believe how horny I am. I don't have a man right now. That's okay -- I don't need the bullshit. I have a vibrator and internet porn. The Rabbit vibrator is awesome. I have a hard pussy to please. I like to feel full. I can still anything inside myself. I slowly insert the rabbit into my hole. It's not wide enough. I çankaya escort go one step further and insert the clit tickler INSIDE my pussy. I think I could win an award for how far I can stretch my pussy. After coming, I wash my vibrator and put it away. Ah. Most women would be done for the day. Not me. Today is all about me.

I head out to the exclusive outdoor shopping mall where the day spa is. In the lingerie store, I ask to be fitted for a new bra. The young fresh clerk dressed in a tight black t-shirt smiles and takes me to the pink Victorian changing room. I purposely wore my thin bra today. I usually try very hard to hide the fact that my nipples enter the room before I do. Any slight breeze and my nipples will poke your eye out. Today, my bra is barely there. My large 36C breasts are firm and poking through the thin white t-shirt I intentionally wore for the occasion. Bra fittings do not require undressing. My outfit today doesn't require undressing. You can see and feel my breasts perfectly. I could tell the younger girl was intrigued. I stood intentionally close as she wrapped the tape measure around the fullest part of my chest. I longed for her to touch them. Of course, that didn't happen. She turned away and left to get me my size. After she returned and handed me the bras, she smiled and said to let her know if I need anything else. Boy, did I ever need something else.

I had no intention of trying on the bras. Too much work. Instead, I pulled my pants down and spread my legs on the pink and white stool in the brightly lit dressing room. The mirrors offered views I did not have at home. I leaned back and began to quickly rub my pussy. There is a certain rhythm that brings you to orgasm and I found it quickly. After all, I have a schedule to keep.

Next stop, the spa. This particular spa is known for it's private spa and shower rooms. The only one in the city where you have your own private shower in the room. I am greeted by a smiling wannabee. She has never massaged another person for pay. I'd like to massage her. Why do all the chicks in the spa show their cleavage? Do they have the same desires as I do?

I am shown to my private massage room and I am about to explode. I have a the wettest pussy. Literally dripping. It's only 1230 and I have masturbated twice already. She tells me Sonya will be in shortly. The door opens in a moment after a soft knock.

More cleavage enters the room. This is even better than the wannabee. Full breasts and huge nipples poking out -- just like mine. Sonya does the routine Q