She imagined Greg’s hands working across her body and gripped the doorjamb, breathing just that little bit too fast. She pushed out to the bedroom and found the cards on the quilt where she’d left them. She thumbed through to the oil choice card and showed it to Anton, who grunted acknowledgement. Hopefully there were some little diagrams showing which Braille instruction related to which scent. Anton tapped her wrist to let her know he was ready to start and offered his elbow over to the table. She smiled at him, but didn’t take it. She needed to be in control in her own room.
It helped that she’d been Greg’s guinea pig a few times while he was doing his initial sports massage training. She got herself easily into position on her knees on the table, slipped her gown off backwards and lowered herself until her face was in the little porthole in the headrest. She closed her eyes as Anton got busy with the draping, covering her from the small of her back to the backs of her knees with towels. The warmth was delicious. There was a click, and distant music began. It was soothing.
A trickle of warmth ran the length of her spine and it took serious control to suppress inappropriate noises as he smoothed the oil across her back in wide strokes of his palms.
“Oh, that’s good.”
“Mm-hmm.”
Rats, she’d forgotten he didn’t speak English. Poor guy probably felt he had to respond in some way if she spoke, so she stayed quiet a little while, floating with the music. He started with her hands and arms, kneading the tension out of her stick-bearing elbow. Then his thumbs worked over the knots of her spine and out across the back of her shoulders. His touch started light but became more purposeful as he worked his way down, pushing from her spine outwards with the sides of his thumbs. Each stroke gave her a cool-warm flush and when his entire palm swept down her sides on both left and right, his fingertips just brushed the sides of her breasts. The intimacy made her catch her breath.
Oh, do that again.
She stifled a groan as he repeated the swiping motion over and over, perhaps six times. She realized she’d parted her legs a little under the towel. She pulled her knees back together again, hoping he hadn’t noticed anything more than a wriggle. Her face grew hot in the enclosure of the headrest. And then he was circling with his fingertips on the incredibly sensitive skin below her armpits. His touch was too firm to tickle but too luscious to relax through and she tightened inside. Very gently, he took her wrists from behind and pulled her arms around and up to the top of her head rest. She overlapped her forearms and slowed her breathing but he kept up that circling stroke all the way down to her waist. It took everything she had to not part her legs again.
She imagined Greg stroking her like this. They’d be talking as he worked and then he’d climb up onto the table, a knee on either side of her back and reach his hands further beneath her with each stroke until he was cupping her breasts in his palms.She imagined him sliding her nipples between his fingers and her pussy gave a sharp, wet twitch. She couldn’t get aroused. Anton would hear her change of breathing and—worse—he’d smell her getting hot.
“Do you mind if I talk?” Her voice came out in a squeak that embarrassed her.
Anton finished her back massage and re-draped her towel, covering her back but exposing her panties and legs to the cool air in the room.
She was given a moment’s respite as he started work on her calves, kneading deeply into the muscles. The cool-warm flashes still hit her with every stroke, but as her legs were stiff, the initial ache took the edge off her arousal. She felt it was vital to keep talking as he moved up towards the back of her knees.
“ Don’t tell your boss, but this is an incredible massage. The best I’ve ever