Naked and full of apprehension, I lifted the sheet and positioned myself on the massage table. Facedown, as usual, I waited for Cameron’s touch.
As he entered the room I felt a momentary cool breeze but as the door closed the air in the room quickly returned to its tropically moist, sheet optional, state.
“How’s your neck feel on the headrest? Let me adjust it, just a touch,” Cameron said as he held my head gently and adjusted the headrest to give me that perfect balance of support and elongation along my neck and spine.
“That’s perfect. Thank you,” I replied, thinking about how much I loved his constant attention to detail.
“Is anything feeling more tense than normal?“ Cameron asked in his customary pre-massage cadence.
“I think I’m just apprehensive this time. Less tension, more angst,” I said slowly, as I thought back to our conversation minutes earlier and the one-page legal contract I’d signed prior to our session.
“Understandable,” Cameron replied as he began to prepare my body for human touch, pushing his hands into my legs and back over the sheets. “You’ll be surprised how similar this experience is to a traditional Western-style massage. We just connect the whole body, remove the artificial barriers, and allow your entire self to fully relax and then ultimately to fully reset.”
“What’s it like for you? Getting the green light to touch a woman anywhere you please?” I questioned.
“It’s not about me,” he responded quickly.
“But you must feel something? I know you like women.” I wanted to let it go and just relax into the experience but something deep inside of me wanted to please. I somehow needed him to tell me he was turned on even though I also wanted to simultaneously know that he was a professional who would stay on the “contractual” side of the proverbial line.
Cameron took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. He pulled the sheets back for the first time and ran his hands softly against my back. I heard the squirt of his oil bottle and then felt his hands at the base of my spine, the oils soaking into my needy skin. My breath slowed just a bit.
As he spread the oil up my spine to my shoulders and down again, he finally spoke. “You know, Kate, I’ve had this conversation many times before. This experience isn’t meant for me. At this moment, I am here for your experience. Do I feel something? Of course. Is it relevant? Not in the least. Part of letting go, for you, is letting go of your need to please me. For the next 90 minutes, your experience is all that matters.”
“I’m not here to please you — ” I blurted out as I suddenly felt insecure and a little ashamed of our arrangement and his perception of my neediness.
“Kate. Hear my words. You know me. You know my clients. You are here for a reason. This can be emotional. It’s therapy, whether the world sees it that way or not. What I meant was that we all want to be loved, to be found sexy, to be desired. Those feelings are both natural and learned. They are hard to let go. But now, in this moment, I’m asking you to feel my touch without filling your mind with how it’s making me feel.”
I lay silent for what seemed like forever. I thought about my own emotional baggage. Cameron didn’t know my therapist but their words were so similar that it was hard not to dislike him at this moment. I’d been working for years to assert myself and put my needs first in my intimate relationships. This experience was ultimately a manifestation of those therapy sessions. It was me taking hold of my desires and having them filled, like a prescription.
Then I thought back to David, an ex, and how I did everything for him for six months without an ounce of reciprocity. I sucked him off endlessly. I gagged on his cock, just the way he told me to. I fucked his friend when he brought him into our bed one night, not because I wanted to but simply because I wanted to see the pleasure on his face. Later, during our break-up, he would call me a slut and tell me it had been a test. He wanted to see if I would fuck another man, somehow a sign in his twisted mind that I wanted more cock than he could give. I told him I did it for him, to please him, and he laughed. So I told him his friend’s cock made me cum harder than he had ever made me cum before or since. It wasn’t true but it wasn’t a complete fabrication. I didn’t ask for it but as long as I was going along with it I wasn’t going to hold back, and maybe that’s what my ex ultimately held against me. My success in prioritizing my pleasure, letting myself find the best of that moment for me, and leaning into it. Letting myself cum.
“Kate… Breathe. Deep. Slow.” Cameron’s soothing voice cut through my cluttered, racing mind. His hands, forearms, and elbows now pushing more deeply into my back, shoulders, and neck.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly.
“For what?” I asked, as my mental spiral was temporarily stopped by curiosity.
He continued, “It’s important to me that you know this process is for you. It’s important that you don’t think of me as some sort of massage pervert. But, it’s rude of me to have you bare and vulnerable in front of me, asking for some reassurance and to not give it to you.”
“You're fine. It’s okay. I’m fine. No worries,” I said, as I suddenly felt the need to reassure him.
“No, it's not okay. The truth is that you are beautiful. Gorgeous, in fact. And I’ve been looking forward to this session all week. And I shouldn’t, but I do… but still, I am a professional. This is a true practice. And to be successful in this session, it’s important that you are able to focus on you. Does that make sense?”
“Perfect sense,” I replied. My breath slowed inexplicably and my muscles softened to his touch.
I smiled softly into the headrest and thought of my favorite mantra to let go of my neuroses: ‘I’m a work in progress.’ It’s silly but it always helps me to let go of my frustration from falling just short of my goals.
Today, I had taken the proactive step of arranging for someone to take full care of my needs but I still couldn’t let go completely and not care if they were enjoying the experience. Still, now that I knew he was, it somehow allowed me to let it all go again. I didn’t want to need him to want me but I did, and now I knew he did, I could finally let it go and focus on me again.
For the next 45 minutes, Cameron worked his way around my body. He used a deeper pressure when needed to unwind the tension in my tighter muscles and he glided softly over and around the areas that had already found calmness. The session was quite normal except that there was no artificial line that he couldn’t cross. I had been so focused on the fact that he would be allowed to touch my pussy that I completely missed how removing all boundaries could make every aspect of the massage so much better. There was no need to tuck the sheets in just the right way as he worked on my hamstrings, thighs, or buttocks. There was no need to stop his stroking motions short as he approached my ass or groin. He was free to work my entire body into a unified relaxation, leaving nothing untouched.
During that first half of the session, he never touched my pussy in an overt way but the openness of the session let him loosen every muscle around my pelvis and ass and as he did, he couldn’t help but touch me in ways not allowed under normal circumstances. As I lay on my front, he worked my backside, his hands periodically pushing down into my inner butt cheeks and massaging upward. I could feel my pussy rising up with the motion of his strokes and knew that he could see it too. As he worked my groin, every now and again, the back of his hand would brush one side or the other of my lips and vulva.
When I lay on my back, he would massage one entire leg at a time, with long slow movements starting at my feet and rising up past my hips. He would start with his hands and then I would feel his elbows join in as he glided upward. As his hands approached my pussy, they turned up and to one side or the other to avoid direct contact; but as his elbow followed, he would let it push all the way to the top of my groin before smashing softly into, up, and over my mound.
When he started, I was apprehensive. I liked the fantasy of what lay ahead but I didn’t know how I would like it in reality and whether I could really let go and be in the right mind space. Now, I was in this blissful state of relaxation but I was surprised at how my body was both relaxing while simultaneously focusing this growing energy into my crotch. My arms and legs were limp, my breath was slow, my mind was calm, and with only a slight touch here and there, my pussy was on fire. In fact, the longer he massaged me without overtly sexual touch, the wetter I became.
We hadn’t spoken for at least a half-hour when Cameron asked for permission to begin the more taboo stages of the massage. “Kate, I’m going to touch your breasts now. Is that okay? Here we are preparing your body by opening your heart. I will be focusing on continuing to push your energy down into your first and second Chakras.”
I smiled. “Breasts… yes.” Then I smiled more fully as I let myself laugh inside at how that was the best response I could come up with in my fully relaxed state.
“It’s not just breasts for breasts’ sake, it’s important to open your heart and prepare you to be fully vulnerable and accepting without apprehension during the final stages.” He paused, “I’ll share a book I have with you on Chakras later, written in about 200 BC or so in India. Really interesting read.”
“Thank you, Cameron,” I replied.
“Of course. It’s a good book!”
“No. Thanks for taking such good care of me.”
“Always,” he said as he began to run his hands down the center of my chest and then back around my sides, periodically moving his hands as high as my clavicle and shoulders before diving them back down through the center of my chest and over my abs. Slowly this arcing oval motion became more circular and more concentrated around my breasts, finding an axis around my nipples. He clamped down on my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and squeezed and turned and twisted like he was tuning an instrument. My pussy ached for human touch. If I wasn’t so perfectly relaxed, I couldn’t have kept myself from reaching down and pushing my own fingers between my legs.
Cameron broke my mental masturbation with his words, “Your energy is now focused on your first and second Chakras. Our final focus on the Sacral and Root Chakras will focus that energy into a final climax as it bursts out of you and leaves you renewed. Any questions?”
“No questions. Please continue,” I said as I felt my juices flowing, leaking slowly out of me in anticipation.
Cameron shifted his position from behind my head to one side of the table. He slowly pulled the sheets off of my body so that I was fully bare in front of him. I felt vulnerable for a moment even though the sheets had been lying loosely here and there throughout the massage and he had clearly seen it all before. The room was warm and moist and quiet. Cameron paused meaningfully. He waited for a chime to sound in the soundtrack of my massage before he gently raised each of my legs and let my inner groin stretch softly.
I heard the squirt of his massage bottle and the soft friction of his hands rubbing together. Then, finally, one hand cupped my entire pussy while the other put light pressure on my abdomen.
“Breathe into my hands. Push into them with your exhale,” Cameron said softly.
I inhaled deeply, then exhaled and pushed slightly as I imagined the energy building in my pelvis. I felt my arousal jump to another level as Cameron let me push up and into his hands with my breath.
After a few more breaths, I felt his hands begin to move to the places that I had increasingly craved. He treated each side of my labia to its own massage, moving up and down and deeper into the sides of my pussy. He pushed into my perineum and woke the nerve endings around my ass with his fingers. He pushed my clitoral hood back to touch my most sensitive region with the most delicate touch.
And then he finally pushed his fingers into me, or more accurately, I swallowed his fingers deeply as they approached. I couldn’t say whether it was two or three fingers but I probably could have taken them all. I was soaked.
His left hand lay on my lower stomach, pushing his palm into me softly while sensually rubbing my clitoris with his thumb. The fingers of his other hand pushed deep into me as he began his rhythmic movement. It was like his left hand was pushing all of my energy down into my pelvis while simultaneously stoking the fires with the soft rubbing of my clit. Then his right hand was reaching into me, pushing up toward his other hand and then pulling the arousal down to rest on the roof of my vagina walls.
His hands worked slow and softly but in perfect timing, perfect motion. My breath became his metronome, setting his tempo to my ever-increasing breath.
Every once in a while he would say something like, “breathe deeply,” or “feel the relaxation in your arms and legs.” And his words would help me to slow my breath and simply be in the moment without looking forward impatiently to my orgasm. It was like he was mentally edging my orgasm without ever slowing or altering his rhythmic technique.
When he slowed my breath for the last time, he slid a finger back over my asshole while his other fingers continued their dance in and around me. When I exhaled I pushed down onto him again, my backdoor begging for just a bit of penetration.
And then, without warning, I began to cum. I honestly don’t know what he was doing in those final moments. He may have slid his finger in my ass or put three or four fingers inside of me. What I can say is that the building orgasm inside of me was suddenly strong enough to begin to seep out of me. It was like my body wasn’t strong enough to hold it in any longer but it was trying to stay relaxed and let it build and the result was a series of orgasmic leaks. Each wave hit me harder. Each mini orgasm made me wetter. I could hear my juices splashing back and forth as Cameron continued to magically build and pull the energy out of me.
When I started my final orgasm I let out a deep moan which quickly turned into a high pitched scream. Usually, I’d be more inhibited and worried about the sounds I make when I cum. Not today.
Then, as if Cameron hadn’t done enough already, he adjusted his technique to lengthen my final climax. I felt like I was cumming forever. It’s a feeling I’ve dreamed of having but at that moment I actually thought, ‘OMG, am I ever going to stop cumming?’ I feared, just for a brief second, that I would be convulsing uncontrollably in pleasure for the rest of my life. And then I felt the final wave as I let out a gasp and collapsed backward. I don’t think I lost consciousness but I definitely lost all control.
Cameron slowly removed his hands as my body quivered with aftershocks. But he didn’t just walk away.
My eyes were closed. I hadn’t opened them the entire experience. I could hear him shuffling around for a moment and then I felt the brush of a warm dry towel across my stomach, then my crotch, and legs.
“Kate, can you lift your buttock just a tad?” Cameron broke the silence.
I arched up as he requested and he skillfully pulled the soaking sheets on the lower half of the table to one side and replaced them with another warm towel. It was then that I realized that I must have squirted everywhere.
He placed a heavier blanket over me. I immediately thought it would be too hot but then I realized my release had left me so depleted that I was beginning to shiver.
Sitting behind me now with his hands on my scalp, Cameron slowly massaged my face and head until my breath finally grew slow and deep once more.
“Kate, I think that was a really successful session. You're going to feel a bit tired for the rest of the day but your energy will return stronger and wiser than before.”
“There… are… no… words,” I said slowly.
His hands left my head and I heard his seat slide back as he stood.
Cameron opened the door, “The room is yours for as long as you like. Take your time. Rest if you want.”
The door closed with a soft click. My eyes fluttered in a weak effort to open before giving in to my body’s need to recover. I slept.