Massage Make Up (Story)  

WorldTraveler83 34M
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2/20/2006 9:30 am

Last Read:
3/5/2006 9:27 pm

Massage Make Up (Story)


This is the story I written on my blog a few days ago in Italian. I posted it first in Italian so people that are near me can see it. The same link in the last entry shows this story, among others, in English

I know sometimes you get real tired at work, and sometimes you get real sore. So, I know what will work pretty well. I’m going to have you lay on your stomach, slowly slip off your top and bottom, but letting you hold on to your undergarments for the moment. I intend to get comfortable myself, before warming up the cucumber melon lotion. First, I’m going to get on top and slowly massage your neck and shoulders. Then I’m going to move down the middle of your back, moving slowly back and forth across the bra straps, before freeing you from it’s burdens. Further on I’ll continue, down to the base of the spine, and work on knots down there. Tonight requires you to be flexible, and this can only help.

But, problems seem to be abound. As my hands hug your hips, something else comes in the way. Hmm … I got a solution to this. I take my index fingers, barely touching the top of your pelvic bone. Then I take my pinky fingers and let them stay to your sides. Moving down in a shimmy-shay fashion, I slowly uncover my ultimate gift from it’s wrapping. Always one to be quiet yet appreciative, I let my index fingers slowly touch the lips, to let you know now isn’t the time to speak.

As I look at the portrait of pink and white on the bed, I can’t help but smile at a picture perfect scene. With a soft moan, you remind me that those aches and pains won’t take care of themselves. I decide to switch things up and go from the bottom up now. Getting some more lotion, I start on your feet, taking care of every single toe, and go up to your legs and thighs. But I like to get into my work, and see the changes that you’re going through. So I’m up close and personal, and you can feel my breath go up to you: from your legs to the back of your knees, to your thighs, and up to your lips, which quiver under the attention they receive. Once again, a finger to the lips to silence them, if only for a moment.

Upwards again I continue to travel. I can see your skin begin to get more color to it under the attention you’re receiving. I smile, happy that you’re enjoying yourself. I adjust myself again, so I’m sitting carefully the top of your thighs. The events that took place next I should have known to be coming, but I was too busy plotting my next move. I come up further up your back, then to your shoulders, letting my warm breath cross the nape of your neck, and letting you know this I’ll always do, because of all the people, “I love you …”

You never were too patient. Hearing this, you arch yourself, taking your right hand and going for what you want. Once you have me in your grasp, you bring me to your wealth and to where I belong.

Going with the flow that we know, I say between gasps of breath, “I guess there is nothing to massage left …” Your laugh accentuates your delight, as you say simply “Not quite.” Continuing on, you remind me that I’ve got to take care of you inside and out, and I still haven’t properly dealt with the lips of the mouth …

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