Unfortunately there was only a crisp fifty dollar bill. “You’ll have to break it,” I told them apologetically, waving it in the air.
It was Mike who came up with an alternative. “Maybe we could let you decide who deserves it more,” he said and glanced at Sean. “We’ll each take turns working out your kinks, like you said, and the one who does the best job wins.”
I had to admit, the notion of two ridiculously hot guys rubbing their hands over my body in a competition for my approval made me cream a little. I played the moment out, tapping my finger on my bottom lip and looking each of them up and down before responding. “Let’s find out which one of you has the magic touch,” I said finally, and after they turned for my privacy, I disrobed to let the games begin.
Facedown, I settled on the table, while Sean placed a towel over my bare bottom and Mike arranged my hair to expose my neck. Simultaneously their fingers danced lightly over my skin, giving me goose bumps even while performing these common tasks. Cool oil dripped over my back, and the first set of hands took hold of me from above, kneading each of my shoulders. I melted into the table as Sean worked through the pent-up tension there. Instantly, I felt the residue of my delayed flight, my missed meeting and the unsavory comments from my disappointed client fall away among his circular impressions in my flesh. His touch was definitive, yet not overly firm, and I wondered if he intended to be turning me on with his warm breath softly beating on the back of my neck.
When I was completely loose, his fingers slipped down the edges of my shoulder blades and briefly grazed the sides of my breasts. My skin lit with sensation as his hands continued down my torso and under the towel concealing my rear end. This endless stroke proceeded in one long motion to reach my inner thighs. Once there, he softly caressed the supple flesh, before gently spreading my legs apart. Cool air swept past the silky wetness developing in my most tender spot.
“How are you enjoying it so far?” he asked, his two fingers experiencing the slickness firsthand as they swept casually over my soft folds. I had to wonder if it was an accident. Either way, my hips rose off the table to find his hand again. It was reflexive—a subconscious response to the bliss he was granting me with his talented fingers.
My reaction wasn’t overlooked. His fingers swept back over my ass and to my waist, then down again under the towel and in between my legs, where this time they lingered in the elixir gathering there. “Is this the spot that has been giving you the most trouble?” he ventured boldly, and I asked myself the same question. I had been working like a dog for the past year and could count on one hand the occasions I’d found the time to invest in my sex life. Career minded to a fault, my drive for success had left me impatient with small talk and bored with first dates, let alone second ones. Worse still, I hadn’t even made a single fuckbuddy since my last boyfriend. This thought caused me to think about the dumb chick at the concierge desk and her obvious advantage over me in that category. I realized that most of my tension was right in my underworked vagina. It was high time that I let someone help with that, and he seemed perfectly up for the task, not to mention his hunky colleague waiting patiently on the bed. I decided to answer Sean with a long sighing moan while he slowly dipped his two fingers inside of me, and then retracted them with expert precision.
A smile tickled the corners of my mouth, and I openly let my hips play puppet with his fingers, like a marionette on sticky strings stretching from my cunt. In and out he sent them slowly, and my entire body began to gyrate with his controlled timing, my moans increasing in frequency. He leaned forward, his shirt tickling my back as he placed his mouth only inches from my ear. Sean’s words were heavy in his throat, moving over his lips as smoothly as his fingers entered my wetness. “Ah, yes. That’s the spot…isn’t it?”
It was really not a question, and I left no room for misinterpretation as I purred a syrupy, “Yes.” His lips did not leave my ear and his breathing, hard and smoldering, spoke of his own enjoyment.
Curious to see how my other masseur was reacting to this scene, I lifted my head to find Mike rubbing his rather large bulge through his white cotton pants. Meeting my gaze he boasted, “Just get ready for what I will do for you next,” and I thought he looked too good for words.
I was enticed. “Why don’t you show me what you have in mind?”
He needed no further encouragement, and in an instant he was in position at my side. Sean’s fingers, which had pleasured me so effectively, retracted one last time, and Mike instructed me to turn over. Holding a towel up for privacy in the traditional fashion, he allowed me a moment to arrange myself comfortably, face up. When he placed the folded towel over the very zones I was hoping to have attended to, I wondered what he could possibly have in mind to surpass Sean’s performance.