Life as a single businesswoman is tough. I didn’t have any advantages in my upbringing, had to work for everything I’ve got, and that hasn’t stopped. I put in long days, seven days a week, and when I’m not working, taking meetings, pitching new clients or going through the accounts, I’m working hard to keep myself in shape. I swim, do yoga, run, cycle. Next year I’m planning to enter my first triathlon.
If that sounds exhausting, it is, but to be honest, I love it. The physical stuff keeps me mentally fresh and gives me stamina. It also helps me to look good. I may just have passed thirty, but I look the same as I did in my early twenties, when I did a little swimsuit modelling to earn more money to invest in my business. I still get calls and emails from agents and photographers wanting me to go back into that work, but it wouldn’t be worth my while financially these days.
Of course, all that work, and exercise means that something has to give, and that something is my private life. I don’t date because I don’t have time, and the sector I’m involved in doesn’t call for a lot of hospitality, so there’s no chance of being able to mix business with pleasure: not that that is always a good idea. No dating means no boyfriend or husband and while I’m not sad about either of those things, I do sometimes feel a little, erm, frustrated, shall we say.
It was after one particularly difficult night, when I couldn’t go to sleep because I couldn’t step the sexual thoughts from running through my head, that the answer to my prayers fell into my lap. I was talking to my friend Sara, who is a lot more open about her sexuality and her needs than I am, which is one of the reasons why I love talking to her; she is such a breath of fresh air.
Anyway, it was while I was talking to her, with one eye on my spreadsheets, that she dropped a conversational bombshell of the kind she liked to throw in from time to time.
“So, Kimmie, when was the last time you got well and truly fucked.”
She could hear my shock from the other end of the phone, and I heard her chuckling. She loved it!
“I don’t have time for that, I have too much going on.”
“Oh sweetie, you need to unwind.”
“Tell me about it. I’m so tense, I seize up some days.”
“Well, I have the solution. If you’re up for it.”
“There’s a special place I go sometimes. Kind of pricey. Caters for businesswomen who need to, you know, unwind, let go of their tension.”
“Sounds great,” I said, distracted by an error in the sales figures. “Thanks.”
“Oh, you’ll thank me even more later, trust me,” said Sara, giggling again.
* * * *
The place looked kind of strange, like a gym, but there was no gym equipment as far as I could tell, and no sign outside the door, just a plain, minimalist exterior. The receptionist didn’t really explain what the process was, and I wasn’t really paying attention as I was dealing with a client query on my phone, so I paid in advance, as required, thanked her and took the robe that she offered me.
I had been to spas and health retreats before, so I knew the drill. I finally got off the phone, put it on silent and slipped out of my clothes, hanging up my little skirt, jacket, bra and panties neatly and pulling on the white, fluffy robe. I wandered out of the changing cubicle, and the receptionist led me down a corridor to another room, where she told me to lie on a bench.
“Face down?” I asked.
“Yes, if you like,” she said, smiling. I waited until she had gone and then slipped out of my robe, lying face down on the bench, draping a towel over the lower half of my body. The bench, which was leather, was soft and warm, and the room was so peaceful, infused by the scent of jasmine candles, that I almost drifted into sleep. But then I heard the door of the room open and I looked up. I was surprised to see that my masseur was a man.
I waited for him to introduce himself, but he made no conversation, instead walking around me until he was out of sight. That seemed a bit odd, but I already starting to relax, so I let it go.
It soon became clear that he was very, very good at what he does. I felt oil being drizzled over my bare body and then he began to work on my legs. The sensation was immediately stimulating. His touch was so strong yet so subtle, and I could feel my tension dissolving as his hands worked their way slowly up my body. Something else was happening too. I could feel my nipples hardening, pressing into the leather of the bench, and my pussy was beginning to tingle.
Eyes wide, I felt his hands slip under my towel and begin to massage my upper thighs, moving inexorably upwards. I shifted a little, attempting to ease some of the tension in my breasts, but as I did, I involuntarily opened my legs. His hands were now so close to my ass, and my body was beginning to tingle all over. Suddenly all of that pent-up sexuality, that deep, unsatiated lust and desire began to roll over the top of my resistance like a flooded lake over a dam.
Without thinking I reached round and pulled off my towel, throwing it on the floor. At the same time, I lifted my ass off the bench, offering myself to him, making it clear what I wanted. My heart pounded; I didn’t dare breathe. And then, I felt it. His fingers slid between my cheeks, prising them apart. His thumb pressed lightly on my asshole and I whimpered.
He began to massage my inner thighs, with little, fluttery caresses, sending waves of anticipation and pleasure through me. I could feel myself yielding to him, desperate for him to tough my pussy and when he lightly brushed his fingers across it, I almost yelped in pleasure.
After several minutes of this teasing I was practically on all fours pushing my pussy and ass up towards him. I no longer cared. I couldn’t think about anything but how much I wanted this. I needed it. I wanted him. He began to rub my lips with two thick fingers, and I could feel myself opening to him, as the pleasure rippled through my body.
Suddenly, I felt my legs being moved
apart and then, with a yelp, I felt his tongue on my lips. Instant bliss washed
over me and I moaned, reaching down to squeeze my breasts. His tongue was so thick,
and he was so good at what he was doing that I was soon shivering as he pressed
into me, nibbling and teasing and licking and probing my wet pussy. And then I
yelped again as I felt him slide his finger into my ass. It felt so tight and
hot to have that thick finger penetrating me there, at the same time as his
tongue found my clit and sent new waves of joy shaking down my legs.
The pleasure stopped abruptly and left me there, face pressed against the bench, ass and pussy on display, panting and sighing. What was he doing? Then I felt it. He climbed up onto the bench and almost immediately I felt something hard and thick pressed against me. I squealed in pleasure and pushed back onto him and he began to fuck me, slowly at first, pressing right inside me, then almost pulling out, then repeating it, building up speed, pushing that swollen rod into me a little further each time. My body yielded to him completely, my pussy opening up and I began to rock in time with his thrusts, pushing my body back against him.
His hands were on my shoulders, holding me close to him, making sure that every time he pressed that powerful cock into me, I felt every inch of it. He was fucking me deeper than I had ever been fucked, deeper than I thought it was possible for a man to be inside me. And I wanted more. I wanted him all. I wanted him to fuck me over and over and over and never stop fucking me, and as my brain began to fill with the white pure joy of orgasm, I cried out, begged him to fuck me, begged him to fuck me harder than he had ever fucked anyone, abandoning myself completely to the pleasure.
* * * *
It took me an hour or two to come down from my pleasure high. I didn’t go back to the office, I went home, lay on my bed and stroked myself to another orgasm, then another, until I fell asleep; a sticky, contended, mess. When I woke, it was evening. I was too lazy to do anything, but I managed to pick up my phone. I brought up my conversation with Sara, and I typed the word ‘Wow!’ pressed send, and then lay back on my bed, feeling completely and utterly satisfied for the first time in years.