by Lydia Litt
Healed By His Touch
by Lydia Litt
Copyright 2012 Lydia Litt
Discover other titles by Lydia Litt at Amazon
***
Jessica surfaced just as Marco reached the pool deck. He was gloriously naked, his brown, muscled body clearly visible in the moonlight. She drank in his broad shoulders and expansive chest before following the dark trail down his belly to his fully erect manhood. Her eyes widened at the sight of his enormous member, which seemed to grow even larger and more erect under her gaze.
Blood rushed to her private places at the thought of having him inside her. She had never felt this kind of desire before, an absolute yearning to be completely filled by the throbbing flesh of a man.
***
Jessica looked around the small makeshift waiting room with a bit of distain. The turn-of-the-century house-turned-salon was decorated in a quaint country style, which was a far cry from the modern, upscale spa experiences she was used to.
She was early for her appointment, but the magazine selection was geared toward mothers and housewives. Not a single issue of Vogue or Cosmo could be found. So she looked around at the odd assortment of products on display.
Handmade potholders, jewelry, hats and scarves hung from a sales rack in front of the brick fireplace, while a whitewashed bookcase held more traditional products: shampoos, conditioners and styling solutions intermixed with a variety of combs and brushes.
A paddle brush caught Jessica’s eye and her thoughts wandered. There’s more than one use for a brush like that …
The brush reminded her of Daniel, who had always preferred the rougher side of sex. Over the years, Jessica had adjusted to his preferences, although she often longed for a bit of romance. Daniel would be so turned on by the brush; paddling her ass as he rammed her from behind was his kind of fun.
Smack! Ram! Smack! Ram! Smack! Ram!
The dampness that formed between Jessica’s legs was a stark reminder that she hadn’t had sex in over a year.
It was hard to believe that her divorce from billionaire Daniel Duncan was taking so long. Last week, her lawyer thought they had finally struck a deal. Yesterday, Daniel’s attorney said it was a no-go. Still a few more details to iron out, he said. Jessica guessed that Daniel was going to make another play for their house in the country. But that was her home now and she refused to let him have it. It was the one shared possession that held meaning for her.
The stress of going through round after round of financial negotiations was taking its toll on Jessica. She had lost a bit too much weight over the last 12 months. Her once-voluptuous figure still had curves, but if the divorce wasn’t finalized soon, those would be gone, too.
Jessica’s friends had been urging her to jump back into the dating game or, at the very least, back into the sack. “Sex is a great stress-reliever,” Donna had argued, and she should know. In addition to sleeping with her husband, Donna was screwing her tennis coach and her gardener, and didn’t seem the least bit stressed about her indiscretions.
“Listen Jess,” Donna continued, patting Jessica’s hand like a concerned parent, “we know Daniel’s control issues did a number on your self esteem. But you won’t start the healing process unless you put yourself out there and assert a little control of your own.”
But Jessica wasn’t quite ready to go there. She needed a different way to relieve the pressure of divorce. That’s when Angela recommended her new massage therapist.
“Marco has magic hands,” Angela sighed. “One hour on his table and you’ll be purring like a kitten.”
Jessica loved a great massage and had been having periodic sessions at the club she belonged to. But so far, the stress-management effects had been short-lived.
“Seriously,” Angela continued, “he offers a special treatment called the Hot Oil Massage that’s to die for. It’s not on the main service list, so you have to ask for it - and tip accordingly. I get one from Marco every week and it’s a very satisfying experience if you know what I mean.” Angela winked before closing her eyes and licking her lips for effect.
For the wealthy, nothing was out of reach, including a Hot Oil Massage that wasn’t offered to the average customer. Angela’s tipping reference and subtle sexual innuendo made it clear that Marco’s special massage service was only available to an elite - and discrete - segment of clientele.
Jessica was intrigued. She had to admit that normally-uptight Angela did seem more relaxed lately. Besides, rich men got massages-with-benefits all the time! So when her friend handed her a business card for The Neighborhood Salon with Marco’s name and hours scribbled on the back, she vowed to make an appointment. “Trust me,” Angela stated, “one session with Marco and you’ll be better than new and back in the game.”
Jessica’s thoughts were interrupted by a tap on the shoulder. “Are you Mrs. Duncan?” a deep voice with a Latin American accent asked. She twisted around and looked up. Tanned skin, rich brown eyes and brilliant white teeth looked back at her, warm, exotic, deliciously sexy. “I am Marco. Are you Mrs. Duncan?” he repeated. Jessica nodded, getting to her feet while collecting her composure.
“Please, call me Jessica,” she said warmly, offering her hand in greeting, a move she had perfected during her marriage to Daniel when entertaining his clients and colleagues was a regular occurrence.
Instead of shaking her hand as expected, Marco took her fingers and gently guided them toward his full mouth, grazing the back of her hand with his lips. “It is a pleasure to meet you Jessica,” he said, making direct eye contact and holding her gaze just a bit longer than appropriate.
Marco had classic tall, dark and handsome good looks with a commanding six-foot-two frame and broad, strong shoulders. The wetness Jessica felt earlier when thinking of Daniel and the paddle brush returned with a surge. Damn! It had been a long time.
“Let me show you to my treatment room.” With her fingertips still in his hand, Marco guided Jessica to a room at the back of the house-salon. She clutched her Birkin bag to her chest, wondering with both anxiety and excitement what Angela had gotten her into. As she stepped into Marco’s treatment room, however, her fear was replaced with wonder.
The oasis before her was nothing like the rest of the folksy salon. The room was large and had a small bathroom off to one side. In the center was Marco’s massage table. A closet without doors revealed shelves stocked neatly with sheets and towels in neutral colors, along with bolster pillows, an array of lotions, oils and other supplies. Incense burned on a desk in the corner, filling the room with a heady, seductive scent. Several large plants made the room seem almost alive, and two large windows were covered, but allowed filtered sunlight to enter the space.
“Do you like it?” Marco asked, gesturing to the room in general.
“Very much,” Jessica replied. “I’ve had many massages before, but never in a room quite like this.”
“I am glad that it meets with your approval.” Marco moved toward Jessica. “Tell me,” he said, removing her cardigan and laying it over his arm, “what kind of massage do you prefer?”
The incidental touch made Jessica’s heart race and the thought of having Marco’s hands on her naked flesh caused her to hesitate before answering. She was about to ask for something risque and was unsure if she could follow through. But when Marco smiled in encouragement, she said, “My friend, Angela, is a client of yours and told me to ask for your special Hot Oil Massage.”
“Ah yes, a very good choice,” Marco nodded knowingly. “Angela is wonderful lady who knows what she wants. Are you sure this is what you want?”
“She said it would make my pussy purr,” Jessica responded nervously, before quickly adding, “I mean, make me purr like a kitten.
”
Marco responded with a deep, throaty laugh. “I shall do my best!” His eyes were twinkling with amusement as he showed Jessica where to put her clothes. “The hot oil I use will stain your undergarments, so it’s best if you disrobe completely. I will leave you now to undress in private. Please lay face down on the table.”
When Marco left, Jessica quickly removed her clothes and hung them in the bathroom as directed, hiding her bra and panties under her shirt in case Marco used the facilities before he got started. She got onto the massage table, slipping between the smooth sheets. The table padding was heated and she let herself sink into the warmth it offered.
How could she have said something so stupid? Oh Marco, please make my pussy purr! He probably thought she was a complete idiot. Or worse, a nymphomaniac! She was grateful to be face down so she could hide her embarrassment in the padded face cradle.
Jessica was still silently berating herself when Marco returned. He didn’t say anything, but went about gathering the things needed for the massage. Music began playing softly in the background and a tubular pillow was slipped under Jessica’s feet for comfort. Although she had the top sheet pulled up to her neck, Marco gently folded it down, once, twice, three times, until her entire back and half of her ass were exposed. The subtle contact made Jessica shiver and the familiar wetness returned.
“I will begin,” Marco said quietly, standing at the head of the table. Through the face cradle, Jessica could see that he was now barefoot, the lines from his discarded leather sandals still visible. He had also changed out of his jeans and t-shirt and into loose linen pants and a matching tunic. She closed her eyes when he drizzled warm oil on her upper back, allowing the soothing sensations to overtake her mental torment.
Marco’s strong hands began moving over her muscles in long, sweeping strokes, occasionally pausing to knead a knot or apply direct pressure to an area that was overly tight.
“How is this pressure?” Marco asked. “Tell me if you would like more or less.”
“That feels so good,” Jessica murmured through the face cradle. “The pressure is perfect.”
He worked his way down her back, his hands intuitively finding the tension built during months of bickering over the possessions that she and Daniel had amassed during their 10-year marriage. When their assets were finally divided, Jessica would remain a very rich woman. But she couldn’t help thinking that she would gladly forfeit everything except the country house to keep Marco massaging her body.
Jessica felt warm liquid land on her lower back and Marco’s hands reached lower and lower, spreading the oil across every inch of her skin. He reached beneath the sheet and massaged her buttocks, slowly circling the rounded orbs, again and again.
Instinctively, Jessica relaxed her legs, silently inviting Marco to enter the opening between her cheeks. Slowly, he slid his fingers in and out, skimming across the puckered flesh and teasing the space below.
Jessica’s groan caused Marco’s fingers to retreat, halting the sweet sensations. “Do you want me to stop?” His voice was barely a whisper.
“No, please don’t.” Marco’s touch was making her burn with desire and the last thing she wanted was for him to stop.
But instead of returning to his previous position, he removed the sheet that had draped her legs and moved around toward her feet. Warm oil was added to her right leg and Marco let his hands slowly travel from her slim ankle to her shapely calf and up the back of her well-toned thigh.
As he reached the point where her leg ended and the crease of her ass began, he let one hand move up and over her hip while the other hand slid toward her inner thigh. Jessica’s legs opened a bit more and Marco’s knuckles brushed over her hairless mound, causing the flesh to swell in response.
He returned to her ankle and repeated the previous movements before switching to her left leg for a similar motion. Each time his knuckles grazed her core, she longed for a deeper probing. But Marco had other tantalizing ideas.
“It’s time to turn over,” he said in his whispery voice. Jessica complied, letting his strong arms guide her.
It occurred to her that she was now fully exposed, which was something she had never experienced during a massage before. Part of her wished that Marco would protect her modesty by replacing the discarded drape. Another part was grateful that her nakedness provided full access to the areas that longed to be touched.
“You are a very beautiful woman,” Marco said. Jessica’s eyes were closed but she could feel the heat in his words as he assessed her body with approval.
She blushed. “Thank you.” Always be polite. Daniel taught her that.
Jessica kept her eyes closed as Marco added oil to her arms, working his magic on her limbs. He paused at her left hand, taking time to twirl the large diamond solitaire and matching platinum band.
“I’m getting divorced,” Jessica offered.
“I am sorry.” Marco squeezed her hand before moving to her chest area.
He worked on the tightness around her neck and collar bone, smooth, rhythmic strokes easing her pain … and some of her sadness. Eventually, his warm hands traveled to her breasts. He cupped them firmly, squeezing with just the right amount of pressure. He rolled her nipples between his fingers and thumbs, simultaneously bringing them to exquisite attention.
A soft sigh escaped Jessica’s lips and she ached for Marco to take her breasts into his mouth, one after the other, using his tongue to flick and tease.
He lingered, waiting for an indication that she wanted more. But she stayed silent.
Marco left her breasts and Jessica’s breath quickened as his hands slid down her belly, the oil he added creating a warm, smooth path to her most private places. He let a single finger dip into her slit, mixing massage oil with her body’s own lubrication. Her clit eagerly emerged from its protective folds, longing for more than passing attention. Jessica couldn’t remember the last time she was this aroused, but stopped herself from lifting her hips to deepen the penetration of his finger.
Coward!
Marco’s voice interrupted her pleasure. “Tell me what you want, Jessica.”
Release! I want sweet release!
“I … don’t know,” she finally said, inwardly cursing her response. Daniel had been the dominant one in their relationship, telling her what to do and how to do it, even in the bedroom. She was used to taking directions, not giving them.
In response, Marco continued his superficial assault, turning his attention to the top side of her legs and her feet. More oil, more massaging, more subtle passes across her moist mound. Not quite deep enough or steady enough to bring her to peak.
After a while, Marco’s touch lightened and he moved back toward her head. He cupped her face in his hands and leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “Our time is up. Shall I book you another appointment a week from today?”
The burning between her legs began to subside as she realized with disappointment that her massage wasn’t going to include a happy ending from Marco. This time.
“Yes. Thank you,” Jessica replied, her voice wavering.
“I’ll leave an appointment card for you at the desk. Take as long as you need to get dressed. My next appointment doesn’t start for 30 minutes.”
She heard his footsteps walk toward the door and stop. “Think about what you want, Jessica. Next time, perhaps you will trust me enough to ask for what you need.”
He left the treatment room and Jessica was alone again. Lying naked on the table, she thought about his words.
Think about what you want, Jessica … perhaps you will trust me … ask for what you need …
How could she make him understand how completely Daniel had shattered her trust? Or how good wives didn’t ask for pleasure, they gave it? And why it wasn’t proper for her to tell Marco that she needed his fingers inside of her, slow and sweet or hard and fast?
She reached between her legs, dipping into the wetness and circling her bud of desire. Raising her knee
s for leverage, she thrust her hips forward to increase the intensity. Pretending that her fingers belonged to Marco, she finished the job he started, biting her lip to stifle a moan as she climaxed.
When her breathing slowed, she got dressed, touched up her make-up and smoothed her hair. Slipping a $100 bill under a book on the desk, she exited the room and headed toward the reception area to pay for her service and pick up her appointment card.
***
Marco was captivated by his newest client. When he saw on his appointment calendar that she was referred to him by Angela Valentine, he expected another bossy billionaire’s wife looking for expensive foreplay. But instead of a rich bitch seeking adventure with a Latin lover, he found someone more complex.
On the surface, she was a polished ice princess with flawless skin, manicured nails and long blonde hair. Yet the subtle clues he gathered during their time together hinted that there was more to Jessica Duncan than designer clothes, an expensive bag and a large diamond on her left ring finger that screamed, “Married to money!”
Marco was rarely aroused by clients. When he was working, he usually achieved a certain level of detachment, approaching the person on his table as flesh and bone in need of healing - one way or another. But thinking about Jessica’s creamy white breasts and warm, moist center made him instantly hard.
Underneath her smooth “Miss Manners” exterior was smoldering sensuality and a curvaceous body built for lovemaking. She had responded to his touch in a way that no other client had, even the insatiable Angela Valentine. He knew she was close to climaxing on several occasions and it took every ounce of his self-restraint to not push her over the edge.
Not unless she asked.
Whoever put that ring on Jessica’s finger had hurt her. Deeply. Marco vowed that he would find a way to heal her pain and break through the icy barrier that stopped her from accepting his ultimate pleasure.
***
“You look like the cat that ate the canary,” Angela commented at lunch the next day. The two women were having a leisurely meal on the outdoor deck at the club, nibbling salads and sharing a bottle of chardonnay. “I take it things went well with Marco?”
