I knew, without a doubt, that not only was my most private of areas exposed, but also that because of the position I was in, nothing would be left to the imagination.
This guy was new to the practice and surprisingly attractive. Of average height, he had a muscular build, capable looking hands and a winning smile. When questioned about what areas I needed him to focus on I explained that I had recently taken up running and was feeling some soreness in my lower back and legs, especially my shins and calves.
“Are there any areas I should avoid?” the massage therapist asked as his hands, warm and covered in lavender scented massage lotion, slowly loosened my back muscles.
“No,” I said into the horseshoe-shaped headrest, settling in to enjoy an hour of relaxation.
His touch was slow and firm, drawing from me the occasional contented sigh or moan. Under the sheet and blanket I was completely naked, skin smooth and golden except for the white bits that my two piece had shielded from the sun. The tightness in my lower back eased as he pressed ever harder, releasing the tension.
Half way into the massage, as expected, he said, “Marian, it’s time to turn over.” And he held the sheet aloft, screening me, as I repositioned.
Immediately he went to work on my legs, first sliding half the sheet between my legs, then lifting the first leg to be massaged and slipping the sheet under my thigh, a draping method which allows the leg to be exposed while one’s sex is kept covered. With dexterous fingers he began loosening the tired muscle groups while we occasionally chatted about my workout regimen and its results.
“I’m going to do some stretches on your leg,” he said, “On each one I want you take a deep breath, let it out and tell me when you feel the stretch pull the muscle.”
He lifted my left leg into the air, keeping it straight and pushing toward my chest. When it was just past 90 degrees to my body, I felt the stretch and said so. I could feel the cool air on the lower part of my ass. After about 30 seconds he released that stretch, bent my knee and pushed the leg toward my chest again. My knee was almost brushing my breast when I told him, “That’s good.”
While holding my leg, he massaged the back of my thigh, his hand going all the way to the line where thigh meets ass. And it felt good. Very good. Next he pulled my bent knee outward, twisting my leg so my left ankle crossed over my right thigh. The sheet felt loose, but seemed to still be covering me. As he held my leg and I exhaled and the muscle relaxed… heaven. He then lowered my leg, straightening it as he did so, and began stretching it to the side, stepping so his body was against my inner calf. I didn’t feel the stretch until my leg was perpendicular to my body, but still, the sheet felt in place.
Once tucked back in, the same massaging and stretching was in order for my right leg. But this time he massaged the back of my thigh while my leg was straight in the air, and didn’t stop at my ass, but instead worked up and around my hip. As he bent my knee I felt the sheet shift and when my knee was turned, the cool air of the room flitted across my clean-shaven pussy. I thought he would pull the sheet back into place before he extended my leg and stretched it to the side. He didn’t. As he leaned against my inner calf with his body, he began massaging my inner thigh. I knew without a doubt that not only was my most private of areas exposed, but that because of the position I was in, nothing would be left to the imagination. However, instead of being disturbed, I found the exposure arousing.
“This is very tight,” he said, working closer and closer to my bikini line.
“It should be,” I responded, eyes closed and a slight smile on my lips, “I’ve been working very hard.”
His touch became firmer, more intimate and more intense, until his hand was right against my open pussy, working the tendon that connects thigh to body. I heard him exhale as he stopped and slowly returned my leg to the massage table.
“I’m afraid that’s all the time we have today,” he said.
After he stepped out and I was dressing I considered what had just happened… and how much I had enjoyed it. Did he cross a professional line allowing my vagina to be completely exposed? Absolutely. Am I going to complain? Absolutely not.