Subculture

by Sarah Veitch

  ‘Keep your limbs loose. Don’t talk if you find you don’t want to,’ she instructed. Then she blended the carefully-measured oils into a small china bowl. ‘I’m warming my hands,’ she explained, rubbing her palms briskly together. Now she was ready to knead the tension from his long tanned limbs.

  Lisa started with his neck, the part of the body which tended to accumulate most stress especially in business people. This man was no exception. Lisa worked at the uptight muscles until each began to relax.

  ‘Mmm, that smells nice,’ her client murmured. ‘Ria didn’t...’

  ‘Each of us employs our own methods,’ the herbalist said.

  ‘I prefer your methods,’ the man added softly, his shoulders relaxing. Lisa grimaced - if only Michael would say that. Don Muscat hesitated. ‘Your boyfriend’s lucky - you give a great massage.’

  It was a clumsy attempt to find out if she was spoken for, but Lisa didn’t blame the man for trying. The Maltese sunshine and the wonderful herbal aromas made most people feel higher levels of desire. ‘He’s in Singapore. He’s...’ She hesitated. She shouldn’t really be talking like this. But since Michael had left she’d felt emotionally isolated and a little lonely. ‘I’m postponing our wedding,’ she admitted softly. ‘I’m in the same boat as you.’

  ‘Because there’s someone else?’ the twenty year old murmured, curiosity or anticipation in his voice.

  ‘There was for a while,’ Lisa admitted sadly. ‘But now I’m alone.’

  ‘In that case we could console each other,’ the youth said, stretching each rib. Lisa finished massaging his firm back. She slid her right hand onto his left buttock. Then she warmed more oil in her left palm and applied it to his spherical flesh. ‘There’s a lot of tension there,’ the man continued, and there was clear sexual tension in his voice as Lisa continued her ministrations. She kneaded his well-oiled orbs again and again and again. Then she moved down to his thighs, bringing further moans of pleasure. She spent an equally long time on his calves, delaying the moment when he’d turn over and she’d see his prick. The atmosphere in the room was already far from professional and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could trust herself to do the right thing.

  ‘Turn over,’ she instructed at last, and her voice was guttural.

  ‘Your wish is my command,’ Don Muscat muttered, and rolled onto his taut bare back. His manhood was now thick and hard against the blonde hairs of his belly. His balls looked painfully full and dark. ‘I think my shoulders have had enough,’ he continued as Lisa moved towards his upper torso. ‘But there’s some tension in my lower stomach, Miss.’

  ‘I think that a nice hard kneading will put paid to that,’ Lisa teased. Lust filtered down to her pubis. It wasn’t the overwhelming desire she felt when Michael told her she had to be punished - but it was enough to make her wet. She used the heel of her hand on his lower tummy, her knuckles just brushing his erection as she massaged his flat warm abdomen.

  Don Muscat sucked in his breath. ‘Ria usually massages me further down,’ he murmured.

  ‘You’re a herbal client. It wouldn’t be ethical for me to touch you sexually. It’s different for Ria - she’s a Sexual Therapist,’ Lisa said.

  ‘No, I’m not your client - I’m Ria’s. What we’re doing is allowed to get personal if that’s what we both want,’ the blonde man replied.

  Lisa’s nipples elongated further at his words, and her clitoris gave a little hopeful twitch. Why shouldn’t she succumb to her sexual desires? She was through with Michael and intended to tell Reece that she could no longer be his bride so was effectively a free agent - a free agent who fancied this uncomplicated man.

  ‘In that case, maybe you could massage me - I’m tense all over,’ she whispered. ‘Don’t use essential oils on my pubis though,’ she added quickly. ‘They can irritate.’ She didn’t want to be irritated now. She wanted to take him inside her, take control of the situation. She wanted to show Michael Landers that he wasn’t the only eligible lover in town.

  ‘Take off your dress,’ Don Muscat said. His voice had gone hoarse with yearning. Staring into his eyes, Lisa slowly undid button after button then shrugged the turquoise garment from her shoulders, waist and hips. She wriggled out of it and sat there in her half-cup lilac lace bra and matching panties. ‘Take these off too, then lie down on your tummy,’ the younger man continued, licking his lips. It was an anticipatory gesture rather than a nervous one - his clear gaze showed that he was well used to bedding women. So used to variety that he hadn’t been able to settle for one special girl...

  Just like Michael, Lisa thought savagely. She quickly unclipped her bra and pulled down her panties. Then she stretched out, naked, on her softly rounded belly and wondered what he’d do to her next. She immediately became aware of her vulnerable bare bottom, just as she’d been aware of Don’s naked arse a few moments before. Spank me, she thought, or threaten to use your belt before you enter me. Tie me to the four poster and tease my clitoris till I’m forced to beg.

  ‘You’re beautiful,’ the man murmured. Michael would have said, ‘That bum needs warming. It has to be disciplined.’ Lisa liquefied between her legs as her submissive thoughts pushed their impact down, down, down.

  ‘Why don’t you prove it?’ she said gutturally. ‘Why don’t you kiss my arse?’ She was being rude now, being provocative. She waited for her spanking. Held and held and held her hopeful breath. Then she let it out in disappointment as she felt masculine lips against one buttock cheek. ‘Lick it,’ she ordered, and felt his tongue slide between her taut smooth rotundities. The sensation was delicious, even if it wasn’t exactly what she’d wanted. ‘What are you going to do for an encore?’ she murmured, gently raising her naked cheeks.

  ‘I’m going to cover your arse in scented oils. I’m going to knead it till you ask me to fuck you,’ Don Muscat said hoarsely. The herbalist shivered with anticipation and delight as he tipped a small pool of the oil into his right palm and warmed it by rubbing his hands together again and again. She already knew how wonderful oil on flesh could feel. The times when she and Reece had massaged each other had led to some of their best sexual sessions. If only she’d settled for that...

  ‘You’ve a little bruise on your bum,’ her new lover murmured.

  ‘I wonder how that got there?’ Lisa whispered into the floor-based duvet. Again she held her breath and hoped that he’d ask further questions, but she waited in vain.

  ‘Don’t worry - I’ll be gentle,’ the blonde youth continued, and she felt him smear the sweetly-scented oil over both buttocks. He obviously had no idea that she wanted him to be rough. Still, his touch was enjoyable sensual, the excitement heightened because he was new and different. And forbidden, Lisa reminded himself.

  ‘You’ve got a great arse,’ Don Muscat continued, kneading each centimetre of firm flesh. ‘Really shapely.’

  ‘It’s had quite a few workouts since it arrived in Malta,’ Lisa said. Been toned and briefly tamed by the palm, the cane, the paddle, she thought lustfully to herself.

  ‘Yeah, it’s great here for exercise. Ria showed me both your pools. And in town we have access to various water sports,’ the man added enthusiastically. He fondled her bare bum with equal verve.

  Then he moved to the tops of her legs and smoothed in more of the oil.

  ‘Go in a bit,’ Lisa whispered. The insides of her thighs had always been hugely sensitive and loved a feather light touch.

  ‘Here?’ Don queried.

  ‘Christ, yes,’ the twenty-eight year old gasped. The feeling was exquisite. Each pathway to pleasure started to come alive. ‘I could come just with you doing that,’ she added after a breathless few minutes.

  ‘I’d rather you came on my cock,’ the naked man said.

  He’d probably have to tease round her clit to get her there, Lisa mused - she didn’t often orgasm from male thrusting. But he seemed e
xperienced so would probably know where to touch.

  As she speculated on his prowess, she felt Don’s hands move away.

  ‘Turn onto your back,’ he instructed easily.

  ‘What will I do with my hands?’ Lisa challenged, wiggling her fingers around. Tie them behind my back, she thought wildly.

  ‘Put them down by your sides like you tell your clients to do,’ the blonde youth said.

  Lisa grimaced. ‘Whatever you say boss.’ She stared up at him hoping to get a dominant reaction. Instead he just poured more oil into his large cupped right hand.

  ‘Are your breasts sensitive, Lisa?’ he murmured, putting both palms over her mammaries and cupping them firmly in the oily warmth. Normally they weren’t - but the finger-held sensation was reassuringly pleasant and sent little tingles all the way down to her thighs.

  ‘They have their moments,’ she whispered huskily. She could feel both bare breasts swelling, the bullet-like nipples elongating against his hands.

  Don Muscat fondled her there for a long, long time. He stroked the soft creamy sides. He gently thumbed her oil-slicked cleavage. Then he worked his oiled hands down, down, down. He massaged her tummy so that the lust filtered to her loins and built there. He traced around the top of her pubis until she moaned for a more intimate touch.

  ‘What do I do now?’ he whispered with more than a hint of teasing. ‘You said not to get essential oils on your clit.’

  ‘Wipe your palms with one of those wet freshening tissues,’ Lisa instructed, jerking a thumb towards the packet on the cabinet top. She felt bereft when he moved away. Then she exhaled slowly as he returned with clean fingers to kneel by her side.

  ‘Now I can massage that tender little lovebud,’ he said. Lisa half opened her eyes, then closed them again as she saw the look of lust on his perfect tanned features. His own desire was fast being matched by hers.

  She groaned when he slid a finger over her swollen bud for the very first time. ‘Whoa - massage is supposed to be relaxing,’ Don Muscat murmured. He sounded very pleased with himself. Lisa’s thighs flexed with sexual excitement as he teased her clit. She pretended that her wrists and ankles were staked to the ground, that she was his sexual prisoner, that he hadn’t yet given her permission to come.

  ‘Permission to come, sir?’ she whispered raggedly.

  ‘Are you going to... Time I was on top.’

  His words brought her out of the fantasy. Lisa opened her eyes and stared. Don Muscat was moving to kneel between her legs. As she watched, he parted her glistening folds and lined up his hard condom-coated cock so that its tip was parallel. He started to move forward on his knees.

  ‘No. Wait.’ He obviously wasn’t going to dominate her - so she’d go on top. She’d take charge of the situation. She could pretend that he was her sex slave, that he had to do as he was bid. ‘I’m going to ride you like a mule,’ she added, sitting up and staring strongly into his face. She watched his lips slacken with increased wanting. Men always loved something different and offbeat.

  ‘Christ, yes. Fuck me hard,’ Don Muscat said. He moved eagerly to lie on his back. He put his hands behind his head. His shaft rubbed against his hirsute belly. Lisa positioned herself above him then took hold of his erection in her small right hand. She put the left hand to one side of him, then lowered herself down onto his jerking phallus, felt it opening her all the way up.

  God, he was big. Shafting the masseuse was obviously a long-held fantasy. Either that or she was just his type.

  ‘Like that?’ she whispered, starting to move slowly up and down on his cock.

  ‘Love it,’ the youth whispered. ‘You’re so tight for me.’

  She was tighter than usual because she wasn’t so well lubricated, Lisa acknowledged silently. But she was wet enough. ‘Don’t come until I tell you to,’ she said in a pretend-teasing voice. She’d have liked to have made the scenario more real, to have dominated him completely. But he obviously wasn’t into it and the last thing she wanted to do was play games with his head. After all, if you tried CP and found that you craved it, it was hard to go back to having vanilla sex.

  ‘Yes, Ma’am.’ Don said, with a sexy grin. ‘If you lean forward I can lick your nipples,’ he added hungrily.

  ‘In that case I’ll lean back, cause you don’t deserve them,’ Lisa said.

  She started to push down faster and harder. Don groaned. ‘I can’t hold off much longer,’ he said in a guttural voice.

  Lisa took his right hand and guided it to her clit. ‘Massage that bit,’ she ordered. She looked up as the door swung open. Michael Landers stood there staring at them both in white-faced shock.

  Chapter Eleven

  Reece peered at the upturned bare bottom in the photograph. His gaze took in both taut globes, their glowing scarlet. Then he shifted his gaze to the seated figure, and grimaced some more. Why was this woman being spanked and why was this man spanking her? And what on earth was Lisa thinking of, sending him this tasteless snap?

  Slowly he flicked through the rest of the photos, taking in images of the Health Clinic’s pool, herb garden and sun roof. Other pictures showed Malta’s rocky beaches and busy shops. There was only one unnatural photo then - only one note of contention. One celluloid rectangle sent to amuse, amaze or disturb.

  Feeling his skin prickle, Reece turned to the bare-bummed photo again, and wondered about his fiancee’s motivation. Could she be hinting that she wanted to be taken in hand? They’d always been egalitarian, both giving and receiving equal pleasure; he’d go down on her then she’d go down on him. He was aware that he often came quite fast, so took time afterwards with his hands to give her satisfaction. He sometimes massaged the hirsute curve of her pubis till she reached her peak.

  Reece flopped down on his back atop the bed. He’d been glad to see the package from his beloved, had looked forward to replying to her latest letter. What he hadn’t anticipated was this unpalatable polaroid. Was she suggesting that they have sex out of doors with the risk of a stranger watching? They’d already made love twice in his car.

  He looked at the half-stripped girl for a final time, then tore the photograph into dozens of tiny pieces. Lisa was just being silly or provocative - he’d force the awkwardness that he’d felt on seeing the snap from his weary mind.

  After a moments thought, he picked up his pen and wrote, That outdoor pool looks inviting. He wouldn’t mention the spanking snap, and their sex life wouldn’t change.

  Chapter Twelve

  My God, she was actively betraying him. Michael stared at Lisa as she thrust down upon the blonde youth’s cock. Her breasts were hanging pendulously forward, the nipples enlarged with pinkening pleasure. Both facial cheeks were hot and flushed. She lifted her head and her pupil’s bore into his. Michael took a small step backwards. Was she staring with shock, like him, or was her gaze one of confrontation or rage?

  His mind searched for words of anguish or disbelief, mere verbal hints at the outrage and shock that were racing through his system. No phrases were forthcoming, and after glaring at them both for another few seconds, he let the door swing shut.

  How could she? Why should she? They’d been so close before he left... When the pain came it was so intense that it felt wholly physical, and when Carmen hurried up behind him and touched his shoulder he moved his right arm backwards as if swatting away a fly.

  ‘Dr Landers, the whole salmon I ordered hasn’t been delivered,’ she said with urgency.

  He turned to face her. ‘Am I supposed to be losing sleep?’ Couldn’t quite remember walking away from her or moving along the corridor but found himself a few moments later in his sunlit bedroom.

  Michael reached for his phone, intending to ask Jamilla to bring him up a single glass and a bottle of five star brandy. Then he hesitated - drinking to oblivion had never been his way. Only weaklings and cowards tried to hide from reality in a
haze of numbing drugs and alcohol. His work had taught him how to heal bodies, not to destroy his own.

  Still fighting an urge to crash his fist into a wall - or into that blonde boy - Michael shed all his travelling clothes and stepped under the somewhat soothing shower. Then he put on a new lightweight suit and went down to his consultation rooms to catch up with his letters, faxes and electronic mail. He’d deal with Lisa after dinner in a way that would wipe the slate clean of her misdemeanours. Deal with her adulterous little arse...

  Dinner was at eight. He was there at ten minutes to the hour. He used his right hand to pour wine for Bakar, Ria, Jamilla, was aware that he wanted to use that same right palm to thoroughly warm Lisa’s soft backside. Not that a spanking would be enough this time; she’d have to take the more focused pain of his ferula. That little rubber punisher could turn a girl’s pale canvas to a squirming red.

  The doctor looked at his pocket watch. Would she dare to show her face? Maybe she’d been drunk when she’d taken that youth to her room and rashly excited him. By now she’d have fully sobered up and had time to feel repentant and ashamed.

  Michael nodded as Dania took her seat at the table. He’d let Lisa show her contrition by taking his manhood between her velvety lips. That would be after he’d whipped her soundly. His groin tautened at the image, though it did little to ease the ongoing ache in his heart.

  ‘This is my third glass of wine already,’ Ria the Sex Therapist said as she hurried to the dining table and he poured her her first glass of the evening. ‘I had two in Sliema,’ she continued. ‘Needed the sugar lift - I’d virtually shopped till I dropped.’ She held out her shapely left hand. ‘I bought myself this ring and a matching bracelet in this little jewellers near the arcade.’

  ‘Very attractive,’ Michael said. He was amazed that his voice sounded the same as usual. It wanted to shout its rage.

  ‘And I also found this backless dress...’ Ria enthused. Michael looked over as Marie-Rose and Lisa entered the dining room. Ria turned to smile at them. ‘I was just telling Michael that I’ll show him the new clothes I bought after we eat.’