Sexual Healer

As a massage therapist, I consider myself a healer; and as a healer, there are moments when your energy becomes intertwined with that of your client. These are magic moments. These are exhausting moments. These are the moments in which you can do the most good and the most damage. This was one of those moments, or more accurately, one of those sessions.

Here’s the alternate perspective on this story: Sexual Healing

Kate was a longtime client. She was in her early thirties and led a stress-filled professional and fast-paced social existence. For the past two years, I’d seen her regularly for Swedish soft-tissue massage and cranial sacral work. Today she was here for a different sort of healing session, one far more intimate and challenging for both of us. It was a session that I reserved for a select few. This work was never advertised but seemed to grow simply via client to client recommendation.

I only performed these sessions at my home office and only on weekends for a number of reasons. The first is perhaps the most obvious, as the healing techniques used are not globally accepted. Secondly, it is extremely intimate and both parties must be able to focus their energies without distraction. Third and maybe most importantly, it is exhausting — which is also why I never schedule more than one weekend client a day.

I could tell that Kate was particularly nervous when she arrived and even the session itself started with a bit of awkward conversation when she asked me, ‘What’s it like for you? Getting the green light to touch a woman anywhere you please?’

My initial response was just pure reaction. I said something short like, ‘Kate, this session isn’t about me.’ But the question had caught me off guard.

There I was, breathing deeply to focus my energy on hers while touching her softly over the sheets for the first time today. I knew what the session would hold and I needed to take the time to compartmentalize any of my own sexuality. In that exact moment when she asked her question, I was mentally locking away my own sexual desires so that I could perform as a professional.

I’d performed this session many times, but I had to be honest with myself that no previous client held the level of attraction that I naturally felt toward Kate. She was a classic beauty with long hair and a perfectly toned body. She had charisma too and there was no doubt that we, together, had very comfortable chemistry, at the very least.

Her body tensed with my short initial response. She was trying to be playful, to ease her own apprehension and I had given her a bit of a slap on the wrist. It wasn’t fair — and I knew it.

My second response, a bit more careful, was the professional reason that she needed to focus on herself and not worry about the feelings of the practitioner. This was true, but too clinical and did little to appease her tension or the growing awkwardness in the room.

Then I realized what she was looking for and it was the toughest balancing act of a response for me to formulate. Kate wanted to be safe in a professional’s hands, but she wanted to know that the same professional also desired her as a gorgeous, sexual creature. She needed to be wanted, even if being wanted, in this situation, wasn’t what she wanted at all.

So I walked that fine line, telling her how beautiful she was and how I’d been looking forward to this session, while at the same time assuring her of my professionalism and stance on relationships with clients.

I could feel her body soften with my words and as I finished my thought, she breathed deeply and said, ‘Thank you, Cameron.’

Now with the awkward moment behind us, I began to push more deeply into the tension in Kate’s back and upper shoulders. I felt focused on the professional task at hand yet her inquiry had propped open the door to the part of my mind that handles fantasy, the same part of my mind that I was focusing on turning off prior to her inquiry.

Of course, my final answer to Kate was only a part of the story and it was a drastic underrepresentation of my personal sexual excitement for this session. I didn’t mention how hard I was this morning when I awoke with thoughts of Kate stroking my cock. I didn’t mention how I pushed that fantasy down, but also harnessed its energy to prepare for our session. And I didn’t mention that I wore my only pair of ‘tighty-whitey’ briefs and tucked my penis to one side in order to best hide any erection that I might get during the session itself.

I pushed on, and with each portion of her body, I felt a professional pride in my ability to stay connected to her energies, stamp down my own sexuality, and ultimately stay within the guidelines and intentions of my practice.

The early stages of this practice are intended to relax the entire body through human touch while the middle stages are focused on centering the body’s energies. However, it is the openness of this true full-body massage experience that allows the body to be simultaneously relaxed and aroused in concert. The way I imagine it is that the body’s energies must first be tuned, relaxed and centered, at which point you can begin to draw that energy down into the lower Chakras where they can ultimately be released and the body can reset.

About halfway through the session, I felt Kate reaching a state of deep relaxation and began the process of pulling her centered energy down to her lower Chakras and ultimately her Yoni. I innocently — yet purposefully — let the sides of my fingers rub against her pussy as I worked her inner groin. I let my hands work long strokes down her back and push over and past her buttocks, my pinky or thumb gliding softly past her asshole. While she lay on her back, I pushed up her legs with my hands and forearms and elbows until they reached her crotch and pushed against and over her softening lips.

After completing all the core elements in the relaxation phase, I asked Kate for permission to touch her breasts. I circled her chest pushing down into her belly, working my way into smaller circles and finally clamping down on her nipples. With each completed phase, our energies became more connected, and I could see and feel her energy pushing down and focusing at her base. I checked in with her again for consent before moving to the final stage and took a deep breath as I squirted the oil into my hands and prepared myself to touch her most sensitive zones. It was time to pull the energy out and allow her body to reset.

I laid my hands softly above and directly on top of her pussy. “Breathe into my hands,” I said softly.

With each breath, her subtle breasts reached high and then slowly sunk down as she pushed her energies downward and her pussy raised up into my hands as her buttock clenched slightly. As she did this I mentally centered myself and connected with her to feel the energy in her body, building and flowing down to her erotic zones.

I focused intently on her breath, as it would be my guide. I waited for her pussy to be so wet that my fingers resting on the outside began to fall down and into her grasp. My left thumb began to slowly rub her clit while still pushing slightly into her stomach while two fingers of my right hand rhythmically massaged the top of her vaginal cavity.

Her breath quickened again and again, and each time I would remind her to breathe deeply. Each time, she would refocus and her breath would slow, only to quicken again within minutes. My pace was both in sync with her breath and challenging her to focus and hold and build her energies as long as possible.

Her energy began to leak from her pussy with short mini orgasms, one after the other. And with each orgasm, with each movement of my fingers, the energy flowed from her and unwittingly into me.

I was already aroused but until now, I was able to push those feelings down and stand on them with my professional training. Now, as her intensity began to spew from her lower Chakra, I felt the power of that same energy swelling my cock, the head pushing sideways and peeking out of the leg band of my underwear. I felt the cum building in my balls and the pulse of my blood rushing to my penis.

As she came for the final time, her ejaculation sprayed her juices across the massage table. She let everything go in that moment and I focused solely on her, ignoring the pre-cum leaking from the head of my cock.

When she collapsed backward, I held her legs for a moment and let her feel my body close so she never felt alone. Then I wiped her body with warm towels, removed the wet sheets, and covered her in thick blankets. She was physically drained and it was time for her to simply rest and recoup.

I moved to the end of the table, standing directly behind her head. I could see the shape of my cock bulging out from the side of my pants, only inches from her forehead. I took a deep breath as I gathered myself again and sat on a stool as I slowly massaged her head, her breath slowing between her slight quivering aftershocks.

In time, her breath became calm and slow and I left her to relax and recompose herself under the warm towels and blankets. I told her she could stay as long as she liked, even take a nap if she wanted. I knew she needed more time than usual to recuperate; and I also needed time to compose myself. My professional pride was dented. I had maintained my professionalism on the outside, but the experience had shown me that I could not always compartmentalize my own desires.

I softly closed the door and moved quickly to the back washroom, closing and locking the door behind me. I saw myself in the mirror and felt shame for being so aroused by a client while at the same time, feeling some level of pride for ultimately maintaining my outward professionalism.

My mind was racing, my body full of her release and my arousal. I fought the urge to reach into my pants to soothe my ravenous cock, but I quickly lost all control of the erotic sensations running through my mind. Those thoughts jumped back and forth between the throbbing feeling of my cock and the feeling of Kate’s hot oil-covered pussy running across my fingers, palms, forearms, and elbows.

‘Is it wrong to touch myself after giving a massage?’ I pondered, trying one last time to push my pleasure back and breathe into a professional place.

“Fuck,” I said under my breath as I succumbed, frantically untying the drawstring of my pants and rushing to free my cock as the cum began to escape. A small stream of hazy white extract ran from somewhere inside my boxers, onto the edge of the sink, and then dangled back up to the source at the tip of my cock. It was the strangest most miraculous feeling, my cock, still half flaccid, yet thickly engorged, and releasing cum in small twitching spurts with just a single touch.

I let it breathe for a moment as it convulsed two or three more times, spitting cum like it was gasping for life. I thought the fire in me would subside now but it almost intensified with the knowledge that I was no longer hindering its release. I squeezed slightly and pushed down to my base, stroking slowly up and down as my cock hardened under my grasp, now an almost painfully engorged erection, attempting to break free of my clamped fist.

As I squeezed and stroked deeply, thoughts of those final moments in Kate’s healing session filled my head. One of my hands tenderly rubbing her clit, the other with fingers rhythmically moving together, deep inside her pussy and ass simultaneously. I thought of how her pussy clenched down on my fingers as if trying to choke them, each time she came. I looked down to my shirt to see the wet spots and remembered the splashes pushing from her as she climaxed fully and collapsed onto the table.

I clamped down and choked my cock harder this time like her pussy choked my fingers. I stroked it more spasmodically, more desperately, fighting to release all of the energy that I had taken in along with the arousal that had built within me.

In moments, I orgasmed again but this time with almost painfully explosive force, into the sink, the backsplash, the mirror. My balls tightening and convulsing over and over again. A muffled whimpering exhale of a groan passed through my lips as I looked up to see the man in the mirror, his flushed face and strained eyes staring at me. The room spun slightly as I collapsed sideways and down to sit awkwardly on the closed lid of the toilet.

I bowed my head, my hand still holding my cum covered cock, still pulsing with the final aftershocks as my voice began to coach me back from release, “Breathe deep, Cameron. Breathe deep.”

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