I was phoned in response to the advert and invited to the apartment, overlooking a quiet courtyard in the old town.  The apartment was fabulous; wooden floor, elegant furniture and beautiful pictures and fabrics, soft oriental music in the background, seductive back lighting.

 

I was greeted warmly and offered a drink, which I declined, there would be time for that.   So I was shown to the bedroom, which had been prepared for the massage.  I went into the en suite shower whilst P**** disrobed and lay on the bed, face down.

 

When I returned, I stood before the bed, and kneeled down to start work.  The oil was perfect, neither too thin nor too thick, and I warmed it in my hands before I stroked it onto the feet.  I worked on each toe at a time, returning to the centre of the sole each time. This took 10 minutes or more.  I then worked up the calves, kneading, stroking, and then onto the thighs, as I watched pale buttocks quiver with anticipation, which I met with long deep strokes along the inside of the thighs, lightly flicking the top, before arching over and between the firm, smooth buttocks.

 

I got up and sat astride him, body-to-body in intimate contact, and launched into a series of lunging strokes across his broad back, mixed with circular probing movements of my thumb along the valley of his spine. His buttocks clenched around my dripping quill.

 

I got up and stood back, inviting him to roll over, his excitement and anticipation immediately apparent.  Back onto my knees, the soles of his feet were pressed against my chest as I worked quickly along his shins, and then thighs, paying special attention to the soft, downy inner thighs.  I returned to his feet and took first one, then the other big toe into my mouth, sucking, licking, teasing, clenched between my lips: practising moves that would be used with devastating effect later.

 

I returned to his torso. Sitting astride, man-to-man, I covered his chest with oil, stroking his nipples before plunging back down his torso.  I then sat back and glided along his glistening chest, the oil squelching as our bodies separate to prepare for another glide.

 

I had promised him complete satisfaction, and now it was time to deliver. I slid off his body and back onto my knees.  He was in such a state of excitement as I repeatedly, rhythmically enveloped him with my warm pocket of welcome, pausing to raise the agony and ecstasy of anticipation, using my hands to caress, squeeze and excite, then drawing him back in ever deeper, until an explosive fountain of love overflowed my cup. Too soon it was over.

 

He collapsed back onto the bed, damp, soft, spent.  Panting, sweat running down my back from my endeavour, I arched my head back and swallowed hard, then smiled; I reached for the hand towel and wiped my face of its labours. Still I wanted more.

 

A voice came from my right: “Wow, fantastic!  I got it all on video darling” gasped  H****, his wife.  “Now my turn.”