I was on my way over to Karen’s little home studio, Bob Segar was wailing away on my stereo, I was feeling fine.
Karen always made me feel fine, if you saw her you would know just what I mean.
Maybe 30 at the most, she is a Licensed Massage Therapist. ALL massage therapists should look like her, long dark hair, a set of boobs to die for. Just a trace of a pouty Bardot type tummy and sway back, blending down to an ass that gave me a reason more than once to reach for my dick.
Yep…legitimate..never would dream of anything more, just dang.. Still, worth the $40 an hour, her hands would flow over me and I would be lost.
At only 28 myself, I could still post a boner at a set of tight slacks from behind, way it is. But somehow Karen would reach out and place her hand on my stomach, smile, tell me to take a deep breath and my pecker would wilt, just like that.
She understood, didn’t mind, had everything completely in control.
This went on for almost a year, every Wednesday I was over there. Hell, I knew what I was going to get, hoped for more but she filled a hole in my week. Besides, I had this little gal named Patti I was seeing, she got the benefit of it all. She would come home and never make it to the kitchen, I plowed her on the carpet, the couch, once out on the lawn in the rain, that was fun
Thinking of Karen.
I suppose that is wrong, I shouldn’t admit to that, but what the hell, I wanted to bend karen over the back of a couch and jam her until she squeaked.
Actually, that was what was in my mind that day as I pulled off the freeway onto the side street to Karen’s studio.
Sneaky little mental games, some hints. I already had her wearing her hair down for me, she knew I liked it that way. The first few sessions she actually tried to look like a schoolmarm, that didn’t work.
Yep, Karen would rub my legs right up to my nutsack, give me a bump or two by “accident”. She always managed to get the back of her hand against my dick, without fail it would twitch and rise right up.
Yep, good massuese, the kind we all dream of, always teasing, always keeping me right on the edge.
All that was on my mind, I parked my ratty old Camaro and walked up, knocked on the door.
Usually the door was ajar, she knew I was always right on time, she told me many times to just come right on in.
Today it was shut, so was the screen door. I knocked out of politeness, no answer for quite awhile. I knocked again.
The door opened, here stood a whitehaired lady about 60 or so. Bit of a chunk, too, she was around 5’4″, and my best guess was 250.
“Hi!” she said, I instantly recognized Karen’s voice and Karen’s eyes.
“Uhhh…” I said, cleverly.
“You must be Dan, come in! I am Hazel, Karen’s Mom.”
I entered, confused.
“I am sorry, Karen had an emergency, we tried to call you.”
I realized I had been nowhere near my phone all morning, I had stopped for breakfast, killing time. Then bought a paper and read it, looking forward to my session.
I guess the disappointment must have showed in my face.
“I am sorry Honey,” she smiled, “One of those things.”
“Oh, well, perhaps next week?” I managed to mutter.
“Well, if you don’t mind, I can massage you?”
Her statement was a question.
“Oh, come on, it’s been years since I worked, it will be fun!”
She was so bright about it I said fine, next thing I knew I was in Karen’s massage room, standing there, not knowing quite what to do.
She smiled at me, plopped down in the chair by the wall.
“Well, get off your clothes and get on the table!”
Karen always left the room.
I hesitated, realized this woman had no intention of leaving, so I began to strip. When I got to my briefs, started to pull them down, her eyes went directly to my crotch.
I was struggling to keep myself in check but the damned thing betrayed me, I was half erect, no place to hide. Hazel smiled.
I quickly hopped on the table face down, realized far too late there was no towel, no drape.
I was wanting one, but I was far to bashful at this point to ask.
I tried to relax, then I felt her hands on my shoulders. Karen’s hands, just years of added experience. In just minutes, I was in bliss, by the time she was to my back and sides, I wouldn’t have given a damn if she was a hairy black guy, those hands were magic!
My mind wandered off to seashores, music, flowers, hard to explain. Perfect touch, her hands knew all by themselves what to do next, I had no need to move or respond.
Down my legs, one at a time, then both at once, then one at a time again, over and over and over.
Bashful was gone, she owned me.
“Turn over, Honey!” brought me back to the here and now, hell, I didn’t really want to.
I didn’t even think of the fact that I was nude, I just flopped over, my rock hard cock was pointed straight up.
“Best fix that.” she said, grabbing me. I had no time to protest, pull away. It was somehow all right, normal. It didn’t take her 30 strokes, squeezed and varied the touch, I blew all over the place.
She had a small towel, wiped me clean. Then her hands were on my chest, performing the same magic as before.
I went back into that mental state again. I don’t know how long she worked on me, it was a long time. I realized through the fog of pleasure that she was working on my upper legs, I felt her hands come up and cup my balls. She felt each one carefully, almost like she was looking, feeling for something.
Then her fingers grazed along my length, I was erect again. I looked at her as she reached out and grasped me for the 2nd time. Her top was off, her breasts were bare.
I looked again with a bit of a start, I hadn’t expected that.
“I hope you don’t mind, Honey, it is getting warm in here.”
I didn’t mind.
Her breasts weren’t that large for a heavy woman, but they hung down over her abdomen, nipples huge and soft looking. Her chest glistened with sweat, I watched as a drop formed and grew, then created a rivelet down between them, over her stomach and out of sight.
She smiled, looked me in the eyes as her right hand slowly worked and squeezed my cock. No tickling here, she was pumping me, crushing me, forcing me to ejaculate.
Suddenly I wanted to touch her, feel her breasts.
“It’s all right, Honey, I don’t mind.”
My hand came up, felt, lifted, she was soft as cotton candy. I rolled her nipple gently between my thumb and forefinger, she just kept working me.
It took me a lot longer this time, I to this day do not know exactly what she did, but she knew. I came, a small one, but it didn’t stop. I slipped right into the next climb to a climax, came again, she still didn’t stop. I felt the 3rd one building, it was powerful, she reached low between my testicles, did something with her fingers. She kept up that strange erratic stroking, squeezing, relaxing her grip, I came again, my world spinning.
I have no idea how long that orgasm lasted, it went on and on. Hazel was sitting in the chair when my world came back to me, smiling.
She was fully dressed again, I was either dreaming or I lost a lot of time.
Magic. No other explanation.
I got up, she handed me a towel, helped me wipe my body. She got some Alcohol, cleaned me up. I dressed, left the $40 plus a nice tip on the table.
Hazel walked me to the door.
I turned to thank her, she put a finger to her lips, smiled.
“Karen will be here next week, come see her.”
“Thank you, I will.”
It was a week later, I arrived for my session, Karen apologized for not being able to take me.
“No problem.” I said.
We were deep into the session, so good, so wonderful as always.
“So where is Hazel, your Mom?”
Her hands stopped, frozen.
“Yes, the older lady that was here last week.”
“Last week? Mom? Dan, my Mom died two years ago!”