| View Blog
|
|
|
|
"Next victim!"
Brenda has gotten into her Mazda Navajo, and gone off to get a dozen bagels. Rochelle rises from the couch (her first true rest away from work and children and Silly Significant Others for quite some time), and yawns. "Now, what do you want me to do?"
"I'd like you to go inside, and strip down to where you're most comfortable."
"Okay." She yawns again, and heads into the bathroom. Before she left, Brenda put on some Chuck Mangione, and his soft sounds are unobtrusive. In a few minutes, Rochelle, looking just as vulnerable as Brenda did, comes out of the bathroom, wrapped in the bedsheet. "I can't believe I'm doing this."
"Why not?"
"I never get massages. It's only because you're doing it."
"Oh, stop."
"It's true! I know how good this is gonna be."
I have Rochelle get up on the table, to lay herself down on her stomach. I have to readjust the headrest, but I have her set up in less than a minute. I can see that Rochelle has a couple of tats of her own. Some gothic fillip over her left shoulder, and the name 'Antoine', in old English, on her right, draping the rotator cuff. Antoine was her boyfriend, and the father of her children. He got sick and died a couple of years back. It saddened all of us for quite some time. Meanwhile, I also notice that Rochelle's skin tone and texture are marvelous. Now, Rochelle is a big woman, no fashion model candidate is she. However, her skin can match that of Tyra Banks. Easily. "You have beautiful skin, you know. It's lovely."
"Why, thank you!"
"It's perfect, no cellulite, nothing. Did you sell your soul for this?"
"You hush."
"You comfortable?"
"I do okay, for what we have. I could use a raise, though."
"No, I mean, on the table here."
"Oh, I know. I did that just to annoy you."
I begin with the butterfly down her back, around her shoulders, and embracing her neck. "Wow, that's so nice."
"Yes, it's nice to get started with this." I continue with her back, arms, and neck. I then do a cross body compression with my arms on the side of her back that's away from me, and compliment that with hand chops. As I do the hand chops, her voice does a syncopated moan in time with my percussion. "See?" I ask. "We make beautiful music together."
"I always knew."
"How's all this feel?"
"Wonderful. Incredible."
I soon move down to her legs, where I begin the flowing motions with my palms in the effleurage. Soon, the petrossage begins, the kneading motions with her muscles. Rochelle's moaning with pleasure. I can literally feel all the stress leave her body. "Nice, huh?"
"Oh, God, yes. Too bad Brenda's gettin' back soon. I'd have to jump you when you're done."
I could say something, but I decide against it. Right now, I'm not too sure if Rochelle's kidding or not. I feel that, for quite some time, she's been trying to send a message to me, a message that I really don't want to hear. I do love Rochelle, but not in that way. I'm very, very loyal to my wife. Call me old fashioned, but that's how I am. If I'm guilty of anything, it's of wanting a more varied conversation in my life with other women. But, frankly, the hanky panky ain't happening. "You got nothing to say, do you?" she asks, with a slight chuckle.
"Nope. Nothing." Although, on the other hand, I have to say that sex with Rochelle would be simply da bomb. No doubt about it. I find this big, beautiful woman to be as sexy as anyone I've ever met. There's nothing wrong with this one. Oh, no. But, we can't do that. If we did, I couldn't live with myself afterward. The relationship between Rochelle and I would change as well, and not for the better. "I do, understand, however, that a good massage can contribute to...pleasant feelings."
"Oh, that it does. You blushin', aintcha?"
Damn it. She knows me better than I know myself. "Well..."
"Yeah, you are."
I begin working on her feet, by massaging her heels in a squeezing technique involving my fingers and my thumbs. "Like I've told you before, though, if we ever really did anything, it would change everything, and I love you too dearly to ever allow that to happen."
"I know, George, I know. I love you, too. It would ruin everything, wouldn't it?"
I now am doing the thumb work that literally tickled Brenda into next week; Rochelle, while very ticklish herself, seems to be able to handle it a lot better. "Yep. And, I can't do that, not to Carolyn. Never. Ever."
"You're a good man, George. Carolyn's an angel, I know, and she's a good friend. I'm a flirt, I been one all my life. You know me."
I now do a gentle finger massage on the toes, a pulling technique. It makes her jump just a bit, and there's a trace of a giggle, but she's fine. "I have to be really careful with Carolyn when she's ready for this. She had back injuries from a car accident a lot of years ago."
"Yeah. Like, you'll be playing it by ear."
Brenda comes back in the house, with a bag filled with hot bagels. In another bag, she's got cream cheese and other goodies. "How's she doing?"
"Oh, I'm doing fine, I'm not gonna leave. I'm gonna move in."
"Oh, no you're not. I like living alone. I can burp and fart all I want without having to apologize for it."
For some reason, this makes Rochelle titter uncontrollably. "You like that?" I ask.
"It's just that she's so funny."
"I think," I say, "the massage has increased your endorphin level."
"That's indeed possible," Brenda says, putting the bags on the counter, and pulling out a can of Eight o' Clock coffee. "It can make you feel good in so many ways."
"You ready to turn over?" I ask of my subject.
"Yes."
I lean against the table, and hold up the sheet, six inches above same. Rochelle, with a bit of difficulty, turns over, on her back. I go down, and begin the butterfly, at the very top of her chest. "I don't want this to ever end," she says. "Never end..."
|
|
Posted by Knoxxie03 on 2008-03-30 19:10:00 | Rating: | Views: 63
|
|
| |
|
|
| Blog Comments
|
|
|
|
see, that part with the neck makes me scrunch mine.... and I'm only reading about it!!!! (Face it, Crystal, I say to self. You're a goner....)
Nice story...
|
|
Posted by crydun2004
on 2008-04-03 15:59:37
|
|
|
|
|
|
Email This to a Friend 
