That's a Massage
She closed her eyes as Icaro, after draping a folded towel over her breasts and waist, moved back down to her feet and began massaging her shins and working his way back up her body, deliberately taking his time.
“Icaro,” she called his name out softly. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, amoré, why wouldn’t I be?”
“Isn’t this difficult for you? Touching me like this? It’s very intimate and sexy,” she whispered as his hands moved up to the front of her thighs.
“Your skin is like silk and the oil smells good and the way you’re moaning and sighing is the sweetest torture, my darling Zorah. However, I will take this punishment of touching you with no release for myself a million times if it means you feel good about us and our relationship.” His hands pulled her legs apart and squeezed the inside of her thigh, “this sound. This one,” he repeated his movement while she echoed her gasp, “is becoming my favorite sound in the world.”
“Isn’t it hard though?”
“As a rock,” he snickered dirtily.
She kept her eyes closed as he skipped her pelvic area and moved to her tummy, drizzling more oil on her.
“You’re going to be so slick with oil, you might slide right off this table,” he commented as he very gently massaged her belly.
“It’s not the only part of me slick,” she pursed her lips with frustration. When he dipped his fingers along her ribcage and avoided her breasts, she boldly grabbed the towel and ripped it off. “Do them too.”
He boldly took each breast in each of his palms and stroked her, his thumb brushing her nipples. “Like this?”
She arched up into his hands, “yes. It feels so good.” Her eyes fluttered shut tight as he took his time doing what she wanted. Her hips thrust upwards wishing he was touching her there as well. Minutes felt like hours as he stroked her.
“Zorah, this is highly unprofessional,” his voice was mocking.
“Icaro, if you don’t touch me right, I’m probably going to cry,” she batted her eyelashes at him pleadingly.
“My hands are full of oil, babe.” He cupped her cheeks and kissed her mouth softly. “I didn’t come here to turn you on. I came here to help you relax and get through your afternoon with my nosy mother.”
“But I need to come, Icaro.”
“Fuck it,” he moved to the tiny sink in the corner and scrubbed his hand. “I don’t know what the hell is in the oils and the last thing I want you to have, is some kind of infection. Are you wet, baby?”
“Yes.”
“Can I check?”
“Gosh yes,” she was shivering on the table her hand clutching at him.
His left hand moved to cup her breast again and squeezing it and his other hand delving between her thighs. He snaked his hand into her underwear. His fingers split her apart, his satisfied groan at how her juices coated his fingers instantly, causing goosebumps to cover her skin. “So turned on from a simple massage?”
“Yes. I want you.”
“Twenty-eight more days and I’ll put my cock,” he rotated his finger into her, “in here.”
“What if I can’t wait twenty-eight more days?”
His breath caught at her question, “we need to learn more about each other, Zorah. You need to trust me before you let me make love to you completely the first time.” His finger was thrusting while his thumb made slow steady circles over her clit through her pushed apart folds. “But baby, you need to know I want you too. I want to climb onto this table and slide into you. I want to make love to you for hours and hours. I think you are the sexiest, most vibrant woman I’ve ever met and the fact I get to spend the rest of our lives together is a blessing I’m never going to tire of. Soon, you’ll be asking me to get away from you instead of begging me to touch you like this,” the squelching noise of his fingers inside her was raunchy and loud but not loud enough to hide her gasp when he plucked at her nipple, pinching it in his fingers. “You’ll be sick of me chasing you all over the estate, the mansion, the countryside.”
He sealed his mouth over hers and kissed her deeply, his tongue swirling around hers while she bucked wildly on the table as he quickly brought her to the orgasm she wanted.
“My beautiful Zorah,” he whispered against her mouth as he withdrew his finger from her depths and sucked them clean. “You taste so good.”
She felt languid and exhausted as her body came to a stuttering halt on the table.
“Twenty-eight days seems so long,” she complained sleepily turning on her side, her hands folded under her cheek as he draped a larger towel over her body.
“It does but in time you will think it passed in a blink of an eye.” He kissed her mouth softly. “Do you need help getting off the table? Your time in here is almost up.”
“I don’t know if I can move,” she admitted. “My legs feel like jelly.” Her pretty eyes flicked to his, down to his crotch and then back to his eyes, “are you okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You’re still hard.”
“I think I’m probably going to be walking with a hardon for the next month but it’s okay.” He brushed her hair off her cheek. “You are worth it to me, Zorah. We will visit my great grandparents for dinner this afternoon. They eat early because they are older and go to bed quite early. Once we leave there, we’ll take a short flight home. We’ll go first to the farm. We’ll spend a few days there and then we’ll head to Catania and the villa there. We will spend a lot of time getting to know each other better, doing much more of this,” he ran his hand over her hip, “and becoming friends before lovers. The possibility of you falling in love with me and wanting to be with me for more than simply slaking your lust is driving me to patient.”
“You’re not angry I push you to do these things for me?”
“I want to do these things for you. Remember. I am the one being punished. You’ve done nothing wrong.”
“Icaro?”
“Yes, love.”
“I’m glad you crashed you crashed my massage. I feel really good.”
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