by Lane Hart
“Believe me; I can handle both of those things as long as you don’t make me come back to that house and twiddle my thumbs for at least a few hours.”
“Okay, glad to hear that,” she says, still smiling. I wonder if her face ever hurts from being so happy all the time. I’d love to be that way instead of constantly stressed the fuck out and worrying myself half to death.
When Tessa drives us to a local spa, I start to think she may not have been joking about that bikini wax.
“Am I that hairy?” I ask her. “I swear I manscape at least once a week.”
Tessa giggles before she answers, causing a bizarre flutter in my stomach that I’ve never felt before. “I dunno if you are or not, but nothing we’re doing today is going to involve hair.”
“Good,” I say in relief.
“Come on,” she tells me, as she turns off the car and tosses the keys into her purse, before slipping it over her neck. “We’re getting massages.”
“Massages?” I repeat when I follow her to the front door. “Nice.”
“Have you ever had one before?”
“Nope.”
“Well then, I’m glad I get to be the one to pop your cherry,” she says, which of course makes me think of sex. Is she flirting with me? Fuck, it’s so hard to tell with her. She’s so upbeat and happy that I dunno if she’s being nice, or if it’s more. I wouldn’t mind it being more, but it’s not like I would ever make the first move. Never have, and probably never could ask out a woman. I’m so terrified of being rejected that just thinking about hearing the word “no” will send me into a panic attack.
Besides, I warned Ford not to sleep with Tessa because she’s from the record label, and when it ends badly, it could hurt us all.
Tessa checks us in with the lady at the front desk while I try to figure her out.
“So, this is a spa?” I say when the receptionist walks off to see if they’re ready for us. I glance around at the shelves of beauty products on the walls, a tall fountain flowing gently from the other side of the room, and soft, relaxing music playing over the speakers in the ceiling.
“Yep,” Tessa answers. “And don’t worry. Lots of men come to these places too.”
“Sure,” I reply, a little skeptical of that because of the rack of nail polishes on the counter.
“Come on back,” the receptionist says, when she returns a moment later. The two of us follow her through a few dimly-lit hallways that I assume are meant to be relaxing, and then into an even darker room with two padded tables.
“Go ahead and undress down to whatever you’re comfortable in. Some people like to keep their intimates on, and others remove them,” the woman explains. “Then lie face down on the table with the towel covering your bottoms. Your masseuses will be in shortly.”
“But—” Tessa starts to say, but the woman has already shut the door and left. “Sorry,” she says to me. “I booked two massages, and I guess they thought I meant couples massages.”
“It’s fine,” I shoot her a wink. “I’d rather not be alone my first time,” I joke with a grin. “I’ll turn around while you get undressed over there.” I point to the far side of the room while I move to the closest table and turn my back.
“Thanks,” she replies.
Even though I’m not looking, it’s impossible for me to stop imagining Tessa removing her shirt and jeans when I hear the rustling of clothing. Tessa is petite and thin, but I bet she has an amazing body.
Fuck, I need to stop thinking about her that way, especially when I’m about to be mostly naked, lying on a table.
It sounds like the table squeaks before she says, “Okay. I’m covered.”
Turning back around, I find her stretched out face down on the table with her arms, back, and legs bare, just a small white towel covering her ass. With her arms crossed under her head, there’s a hint of the side of her breast showing.
Swallowing around the lump of lust in my throat when I realize how I’m looking at her, I turn back around to pull my shirt off, then lower my jeans and remove my shoes and socks, keeping just my boxer briefs on and putting the rest in a nearby chair. Grabbing the white towel on the table, I cover up my cock that’s starting to get hard to block it from her view before I lie down on the table even though it doesn’t hide but a quarter of my boxers.
“You can take your underwear off, if you haven’t already,” Tessa says from her table. “You don’t have to keep covered for my sake.”
Oh yes, I do, I think to myself. But since I don’t have anything to hide, other than my erection, and I find myself wanting Tessa to see more of my body, I roll to my side facing away from her, to tug off my boxer briefs, and then toss them to the pile of clothes.
“There,” I reply when I lie back down on my stomach, the pressure not doing my dick any good in this position. In fact, it makes my hips want to rock to try and create more friction.
“You, um, may want to cover your butt up,” Tessa says. “Not that I mind seeing it, but the masseuse might,” she adds in a rush.
“Oh, right,” I say, since I forgot about the towel, too worried about not fucking the table. Reaching to the side, I find it and drape it over my ass cheeks. Finally decent, I rest my arms under my head and turn my face toward Tessa, who is doing the same.
We stare at each other for a moment before she says, “Is this awkward? Being naked together? It’s awkward, isn’t it?”
“No,” I reply, since awkward isn’t the word I would use to describe the experience so far. It’s definitely more intimate than I expected, being completely naked, alone in a room with a beautiful, also naked woman just a few feet away, nothing but hand towels covering us. Hand towels that can be easily removed or fall…
The door opens, reeling my inappropriate thoughts back in when a man and a woman wearing all white outfits come into the room and shut the door.
“Good morning. I’m Stefan, and this is Fiona,” the dude with dark hair says from between our two tables. “We’ll be providing you with your massages today.”
My first thought is that I don’t want him putting his hands on Tessa. Which is insane, I know, since she’s just a woman I’ve known a few days because of our business relationship. For whatever reason, I don’t like the idea of him touching her. What if he tries to cop a feel of her breasts or her ass?
“Nice to meet you,” Tessa says, as she tilts her head to smile up at the man.
Nope, I don’t like that either. I prefer when Tessa’s smiles are directed at me. And I’m happy to get to spend some time alone with her today, knowing that since she’s been staying at Ford’s house, Ford and Ben have been lucky enough to see and talk to her every damn day.
Now Mr. Rico Suave comes in and gets to touch her? Apparently so, since he goes around to the other side of her table, grabs a bottle of oil, squeezes it in his hands, and then places them on her upper back.
When a pair of hands suddenly does the same to me, I jump in response.
“Wow, you have a lot of tension in your shoulders,” the woman above me says, as her fingers dig into my flesh. “Let’s work those kinks out.”
“Try and relax, Clarke,” Tessa says to me. “That’s why we’re here.”
“Right,” I reply, looking away from the man rubbing oil and his hands on her neck and shoulders to watch her face instead. After a few seconds, her long eyelashes flutter and her pink lips part on a gasp that has me wondering if that’s how she would look in the middle of sex. If I were behind her, lifting her hips and wedging myself between her legs, is that the face she would make the first time my cock slipped inside of her?
“Feel good?” I can’t help but ask, wanting her to open her golden-green eyes and look at me again.
When she does, she moans the word “Yes,” which does nothing to help the rock-hard appendage between my legs. If it gets any bigger, I may be risking permanent injury by having it trapped underneath me.
“That’s it, bella. Let the stress go. You’re in good hands,” the asshole m
asseuse croons to her.
His hands move down to her lower back, causing Tessa to release another soft moan. The jackass rubbing her looks over at me with a smirk.
I couldn’t even tell you what the woman masseuse is doing to me or where her hands are. I’m too focused on watching and listening to Tessa’s reactions. Her eyes remain closed for the most part until the guy starts on her upper thighs. That’s when they pop open wide as she looks directly at me.
“You’ve been doing some strenuous exercise,” the man says to her softly. “These muscles are incredibly tight.”
Where his hands are, his fingers can’t be but a breath away from touching her pussy.
I’m about to bark at the guy to ease off when he says, “I’ll let your boyfriend handle this area,” then moves down to rub her calves.
I hear Tessa’s exhale of relief as her eyes continue to hold mine. She doesn’t correct the guy’s assumption about us, which I like way too much. Is it crazy to think that she may be interested in me too? Probably. She doesn’t seem like the type of woman to risk her job for some random asshole. But I’m not looking for just some one-night hookup. I gave up on the groupies years ago. Sure, they made things easy on me, when I didn’t have to approach them or talk first. The problem was that they were all too superficial and vain. Besides, I didn’t like sleeping with people who didn’t even bother telling me their names beforehand. There’s just something wrong about having sex with a stranger and not sticking around afterward. Not that the groupies ever could because we would have to get back on the road.
I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be with the same person more than once, since I’ve never had that experience. I was a virgin until we started our tour. Then it didn’t take long to lose it and start fucking my way through girl after girl, who offered to make up for my previous years of sexual frustration. I was always bad at it, fumbling around with getting their clothes off, not sure what I was doing or if I was doing it right. That was too much pressure to handle. I want to be with someone who takes their time, doesn’t rush because the bus is about to leave, and comes back for more because it’s that good, not because of who I am or the fact that I happen to be a drummer in a well-known band.
The rest of our massage time passes before I know if it’s been thirty minutes or an hour. The masseuses tell us to enjoy our day and then thankfully disappear.
“So,” Tessa starts, without moving from the table. “What did you think?”
“I think I’m less relaxed now than when I came in,” I mutter.
“Aww, I’m sorry,” she says, her voice sounding disappointed that I didn’t enjoy myself.
“It’s not your fault,” I assure her. “What about you? Did he, um, touch you any place that made you uncomfortable?”
“No, of course not,” she replies, which makes me exhale in relief. “Why would you think that?”
“You just had an odd look on your face,” I explain. “When he was rubbing your leg.”
“Oh, no,” she says, eyes widening in understanding. “It wasn’t him. He was right; my thighs are…tense.”
“Really? Did you overexert yourself running?” I ask.
“Something like that,” she says with a cringe as she bends her knee, lifting her left leg so that her foot nearly touches her ass before letting it fall again.
Wait, is that an opening? What if I’m wrong and it’s not, then I’ll be mortified. Still, even knowing I’m making a huge mistake, I can’t stop myself from speaking up and making the offer, which is so unlike me that I don’t even recognize the words. “Do you…I mean…if you want, I could work on it for you?”
“If you don’t mind, that would be great, Clarke,” Tessa says with a smile.
Fuck yes.
I asked her, and the world didn’t end. She actually said yes.
I don’t waste a second climbing off my table, on the side opposite of Tessa so that she won’t be able to see the state of my excited cock. Grabbing another towel from the counter to wrap it around my hips and subtly adjust myself, I go over to her table.
“So, ah, let me know if I touch a place that I shouldn’t,” I say, as I look down at her lean but muscular thighs leading up to the towel, not quite sure where to start. I figure I’ll start low, just above her knee and work my way up.
“Okay.” Tessa lowers her head again to her crossed arms. “That feels good,” she says, as my hesitant fingers start prodding her flesh. I do one leg and then reach to do the other in the same spot while my hard cock presses into the side of the table. I’m pretty sure it leaks a little from the excitement of having my hands on a woman for the first time in a while.
Clearing my throat before I can speak, I ask her, “Should I go higher?”
“Please,” she replies, making me choke back a groan.
My fingers move up her thighs that are so tight and tense, I have to press harder on them. “That hurt?” I ask, my voice huskier than usual.
“No, it’s nice,” Tessa replies, sounding a little breathless.
I move to her left leg and give it the same treatment. Before I can even question her again, Tessa asks me, “Just a little higher?”
“Yeah, no problem,” I reply, even though my cock is begging for me to stop rubbing her and rub it instead. Now my hands are on her upper thighs, so close to the swell of her ass I can barely resist squeezing it.
When Tessa squirms a little like she’s uncomfortable, I remove my hands from her.
Looking at me over her shoulder, her lashes are lowered, and her cheeks are rosy red when she says, “You don’t have to stop yet, unless you want to.”
“I wasn’t sure…” I start.
“I like having your hands on me,” she says, and now I’m absolutely certain that she’s flirting with me. My dick celebrates by swelling a little more.
“Do you want me to, um, take the towel off?” I ask for clarification, just because I could be wrong. The only women I’ve been around weren’t the least bit subtle. I could always figure out what the groupies wanted because they would just start unzipping my pants without me even asking.
“I shouldn’t,” Tessa says before she reaches back and removes the towel herself, revealing her bare ass to me. “But I really want you to keep going.”
All thoughts about not getting involved with her because it could be bad for the entire band go out the fucking window. I can’t resist grabbing two handfuls of each of her cheeks and squeezing them hard. Tessa’s moan is muffled when she buries her face in her arms again.
I press my fingers into her bottom with my thumbs moving down her crease, brushing over her puckered hole and moving lower to where I feel the heat coming from her pussy. I graze one thumb over her soaking wet slit until I get to her swollen nub.
“Yes,” Tessa moans softly. “Right there. Touch me there.”
“Right here?” I ask, as I circle the pad of my thumb over her clit, making her hips start bouncing.
“Uhh,” she replies, which I take to mean yes, since she spreads her leg wider and grinds herself against my thumb harder. Using my other hand to gather her wetness on my fingers, I slide them up her crease to push one fingertip into her tight little asshole.
“Oh fuck!” Tessa cries out, now gripping the top of the table to hold on as her lower body comes alive under my hands. “I’m close,” she tells me, like I can’t feel the way she’s squeezing the finger that I’m easing into her. “More!” she demands, so I give it to her. Bending over, I run my tongue around the part of her body clenching my finger while my other hand keeps circling her clit. I get her nice and wet, and she easily stretches, taking two fingers by the time her body seizes up, and she pants through her orgasm. But I don’t stop tonguing her hole, not yet, not until she can take three of my fingers.
“Clarke! Clarke, please,” she begs over her shoulder.
“Please what?” I ask, my voice rumbly with lust, my chest rising and falling rapidly, like I just ran a marathon.
�
�Will you…will you give me more than your fingers?” she asks.
“Hell yes,” I tell her while my dick rejoices, leaking a few more tears of relief that it’s finally going to get off with more than my fist.
Moving to the foot of the table, I wrap each of my hands around Tessa’s knees and pull her until her feet touch the floor and her upper body is still bent over the table. Thinking fast, I grab some of the oil from the counter and drizzle it down the center of her perfect apple-bottom and then a little more over my cock.
Giving my length a few strokes to rub in the oil, I line my cock up while Tess moans and squirm underneath me, like she can’t wait for it.
“You had your ass fucked before?” I stop to ask, even though I need to be inside of her so bad.
“Yeah, it’s just…it’s been awhile.”
“I’ll go slow,” I promise her, pushing the head of my dick into her depths and then keeping still to give her body time to adjust. My mouth, fingers, and oil got her nice and wet, so it doesn’t take long to work my shaft all the way inside, a little at a time.
Plenty of men have bigger, thicker dicks than me, I’m sure, but that just means they’re missing out on getting in this tight hole that my cock was made for, or so I’ve been told.
“How’s that?” I ask through gritted teeth as I lean over Tessa’s back.
“Incredibly…full,” she says in response. I would grin if my jaw weren’t clenched so tight, trying not to come just yet, thanks to her snug heat surrounding me.
Grabbing a handful of her hair, I tilt her head back and to the side so that I can kiss her when I start to move, fucking her with slow, shallow thrusts.
…
Tessa
Note to self—getting a massage with a man is incredibly arousing. So arousing that I practically begged Clarke to touch me between my legs to give me some relief.
I’ve been so horny since the afternoon a few days ago with Davis. I had thought we would have more, before he got up and wandered off without a backward glance, like he couldn’t give two shits about who he had just been inside.
