South East England

August 25th 1996







“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”



Mrs Parsons, or Sarah as she now insisted on being called, held up a folded piece of paper and waved it at James. They had met for drinks several times since the infamous sexual escapade at the end of term, always during one of James’ visits home from University, and he couldn’t remember her ever being as excited as she was tonight. Every time they had met it had been a fantastic night: full of laughs, saucy conversation and an ungodly amount of flirting, but much to James’ frustration no evening had ever ended in any kind of physical interaction. She always dressed fairly modestly for their ‘dates’, but James knew what kind of body was unjustly hidden underneath her layers of clothing and desperately wanted to familiarise himself with it again – but Sarah would never entertain his suggestions of after-drinks intimacy. She had spelled out exactly why during their very first date after the shower incident.



“It will never be as good,” she lamented. “We both know that. It was wish fulfilment. I got to seduce a naive and inexperienced student and you got to fuck the teacher you had fantasised about for 5-odd years. We’re never going to top that. And I want to remember it for what it was. And I do remember it James; an awful lot.”



So did James. He had enjoyed a couple of sexual encounters during his first year at university, but nothing as amazing as that first time, and with no one as stunning as Sarah – certainly no one as well-endowed. He was still a shy young man, not the cocksure kind of bloke that could easily flirt with his fellow students and get glamorous stunners into his bed. He had managed to charm a couple of bookish girls into several bouts of sexual exploration, and he had enjoyed them very much, but the image of Sarah’s cum-soaked breasts sitting below the filthy look on her face was a hard one to shift, and every sexual tryst paled in comparison. James had shared these frustrations with Sarah at their meetings, and she had even admitted that her sex life had felt a little tame since their erotic coupling, but she was adamant that casual sex would tarnish the memory of their realised fantasies. James just had to settle for the incredibly intimate chats they had instead. But it was at their most recent get-together that Sarah had hit upon an idea that she thought could recapture the magic of James’ incentive list.



“I was thinking about what you did – you know with your list,” she said enigmatically.



“What about it?”



“It was nothing to do with the grades, was it?”



“What do you mean?”



“Well I feel a bit stupid for not thinking of it like this before, but you didn’t use the incentive to see my tits to get a good grade, did you? You used the excuse of needing a good grade to talk me into showing you my tits. You basically thought up a very clever plan that offered the slim possibility of making a fantasy come true.”



“Well I thought if I had just asked for a titty fuck after school one day, you might have refused,” James intoned with mock seriousness. Sarah guffawed in response.



“But that’s the thing, of course I would have. Refused, I mean. In that scenario I would have thought you were a total creep, I probably would have felt I had to tell someone, I would have been panicking about my career… I mean I wouldn’t have just been able to let that stand.”



“Fuck. Well I’m glad I didn’t do that then.” James felt a little sobered by the assertion. Sarah seemed to notice his unease and held out a warm hand for his own to clasp.



“But in your absolute genius,” she continued, “You created a scenario that kind of made sense. That felt safe. That was actually kind of sweet and adorable. The whole thing could be denied or refuted or ignored… well right up until the point I tit fucked you in the shower room, anyway.”



“What are you getting at?” James wondered out loud.



“You made your fantasy come true. With a lot of thought and a bit of ingenuity, you came up with a plan that actually made it come true. And I’m thinking maybe we could engineer a few more.”



James pondered what she was saying for a short moment.



“Well the fact that it was your fantasy too probably helped,” he offered.



“Sure, I met you halfway. But you came up with that plan all on your own. If there’s two of us – two horny geniuses; one boy, one girl – we could come up with some of our own, couldn’t we?”



“Why do we need to come up with clever plans to do stuff with each other?”



“We don’t, you idiot.” She slapped him upside the head with a beer mat. “Like I said, it would be easy to go back to mine and fuck each other, but that’s not the fun part…”



“I think it would be pretty fun.”



“It would be pretty fun, but it wouldn’t be amazing. You know what made our session in the shower so amazing?”



“The anticipation.”



“Exactly! The anticipation! I was thinking about ‘results day’ from the moment you gave me that list. I fantasised about holding up my end of the bargain a hundred times over. And the feeling of your plan coming to fruition, of us reaping the rewards of all your twisted little machinations…”



“Alright, steady on. So what specifically are you suggesting?”



“Let’s write another list. Of fantasies. Of things we’ve always wanted to do that maybe we can’t do with a girlfriend or a boyfriend. Things like… you know, getting a tit fuck from your teacher. You write one, I’ll write one; we’ll compare notes, try to work out ways of… you know… making them come true.”



As they continued to chat James slowly started to acknowledge the potential rewards of having a filthy partner-in-crime that he could collaborate with to fuel their respective fantasies. They went their separate ways with James’ head full of new sexual possibilities



Over the course of the next seven days, James became almost obsessive in concocting the contents of his list. His fantasies before his encounter with Sarah had been almost entirely dominated by situations involving his beloved teacher, but in the following year he had imagined and masturbated to a much greater variety of mental scenarios. He found that his solo activities were far more satisfying and enjoyable when he imagined situations that were grounded and within the realms of possibility. Picturing him seducing Phoebe Cates into an indecent act on a tropical beach was stimulating, sure, but not all that plausible. Catching a busty flat mate undressing in their shared accommodation was much more feasible – and therefore more of a turn on. Sarah’s proposed evolution of the incentive list was perfect for him, because it demanded feasible scenarios that could be engineered with a little guile and planning. James’ dirty mind went into overdrive as he imagined all the sordid things he could accomplish with the help of a willing and like-minded female accomplice. The ideas came thick and fast. And so did he, on an almost nightly basis.



————



“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”



Sarah could hardly contain her excitement when they met a week later. James was embarrassed to see that he had several pages of A4 paper covered in ink compared with the one neatly-typed page in Sarah’s hand, but was nonetheless eager to swap notes.



Sipping on her large glass of wine, which James had managed to secure at the bar before an erection had taken hold, Sarah carefully studied the list, occasionally smirking, occasionally letting out sounds of approval. Sarah’s list made for equally stimulating reading. A dozen different scenarios were simultaneously bouncing around in James’ head and three times as many possible ways to help bring them to fruition for his filthy companion. James wasn’t stupid; he knew that the more instrumental he was in making these fantasies a reality for Sarah, the harder she would work to do the same for him. He figured it was his turn to do her a favour considering the treat that had started all this, but Sarah refuted the logic.



“You came up with the first plan. My turn to come up with one for you,” she insisted. James wasn’t about to persuade her otherwise.



“Anything catch your eye?” he asked.



“Explain this one to me a bit more”.



Sarah lifted the second page towards James and held a perfectly painted nail against James’ fifth entry on the list titled ‘fake masseuse’.



“I went on holiday last year with my parents,” began James. “Just after the exam results actually. A very nice resort in Spain. And they had this hotel spa where I booked a massage. And it was really full on and intimate – I was completely naked under the towel and this woman was rubbing almost every inch of me with oil.”



“Mmmmm, was she hot?”



“No, she was about 50 and had a moustache.”



“Oh.”



“But the point is, after I had finished I saw another woman in a towel go into another room for a massage and she really was hot. And a male masseuse followed her in! I remember thinking, ‘wow, if only I could get in with the spa staff and get them to let me pretend to be a masseuse’. I’d have waited until a foxy client came in and spent 60 minutes with my hands all over her. And she’s on vacation – she’s not going to know that I’m not staff!”



“Interesting…”



“Of course I’m not trained. I’d probably be found out after 10 minutes of rubbing the wrong muscles.”



“Not to mention the disproportionately large amount of time you’d spend on the tits.”



“Well yeah, there’s that too,” James acknowledged with a chuckle. “I guess I’d have to pace myself.”



Sarah pondered and was silent for a minute or so as James nursed his beer. Finally she looked up and fixed him with one of her trademark dirty smiles.



“A plan is forming,” she declared cryptically.



The conversation then moved on to other entries in the list and eventually onto the intriguing fantasies typed by Sarah. They chatted and drank and flirted well past closing time, the landlord seemingly rewarding them for their custom by leaving them be and letting them order from the bar long after the pub had closed – what the British lovingly call a ‘lock-in’. The seeds they planted in each other’s minds that evening would bear sensual fruit for many years to come.



———–



A little under two weeks later, James received a call at his parents’ house where he was staying for the summer while they cruised around the Mediterranean. He desperately hoped it was Sarah – he hadn’t heard a peep from her since the lock-in and was desperate to share his thoughts about her list. But the youthful, slightly posh voice on the other end of the line was wasn’t hers.



“Oh, hi there. Is that James?” said the young woman in an upbeat, genial tone that immediately sat well him.



“Er, yes it is. Who’s that?”



“My name’s Emma. I was given your number by Sarah Parsons. I’d like to book you in for a massage if I can?”



James froze. Usually so good thinking on his feet, he had a minor panic attack at being so woefully underprepared for this opportunity.



“Oh I’m sorry, I’ve got the wrong number haven’t I?” she offered.



Faced with the fear of letting this chance slip through his fingers, James’ brain finally kicked into gear.



“No no. You’ve got the right number. Sorry, the receiver was playing up. Did you say Sarah Parsons?”



“Yes, she was eulogising about her sessions with you so I thought I’d book one too.”



“I’d be happy to. Emma, I don’t have my diary with me right now, would you mind if I called you back later today to arrange a time?”



“No of course not. Sorry, it is a bit early isn’t it? Have you got a pen?”



James jotted down her number and promised to call back as soon as he could. She gushed with thanks and put the phone down. James replaced the receiver and stood in shock for a while before being startled back into lucidity by the phone ringing yet again.



“Hi James, it’s Sarah. Thought I’d better give you some warning that you might be getting a phone call from a lovely young lady in the next few days.”



“You’re a bit late. I’ve just got off the phone with her now.”



“Oh Shit, have we blown it?”



“No, I blagged it. Told her I’d call her back when I found my diary. Who is she? What did you tell her?”



“God she’s keen. I only gave her your number this morning. Call her back and tell her 7.00 Wednesday evening at the nurse’s office at our school. I’ll fill you in on the rest later. Meet me at Gino’s for lunch.”



James returned Emma’s call and confirmed the appointment, careful to avoid engaging her in conversation in case he contradicted whatever Sarah had told her. In the brief exchange she sounded bubbly and sweet and James started imagining what she might look like.



————



At a local Italian cafe later that day, Sarah went through the details and revealed the extent of her planning.



“You know this running club I do with some of the sixth formers at Percy Forks?” she began.



Sir Percival Faulkner’s school for girls was located just a short way down the road from James’ old school. Another private establishment for well-to-do brain boxes, the two academic establishments were separate entities but they often collaborated in subjects such as music, drama and in some sports.



“Oh God, how old is she?” James queried.



“Don’t worry, she’s 18. Just finished her exams. Bit worried about university I think… interacting with all those young men after 7 years at a girls school.”



Sarah gave James a trademark fruity look. He was intrigued.



“Go on,” he said.



“Well, we all meet to go running about twice a week, and I’ve got to know some of them quite well. We even go out for drinks after the evening run sometimes. The ones who are old enough anyway. And I’ve been mentioning this wonderful guy who gives me a full body massage every once in a while. That he’s young and sweet and training to be a physiotherapist and is offering cut price massage sessions to help him practice and train. That he’s not yet qualified or experienced enough to do deep tissue techniques, but that it’s such a relaxing and sensual hour that it really doesn’t matter.”



“That is absolutely genius,” James marvelled.



“And you got a whole-hearted recommendation from me. I mentioned you to all the girls I thought you might be interested in getting your hands on, but this girl Emma was the only one I gave your number to.”



“Why her?”



“Well, first off she’s got a body I really think you’ll appreciate rubbing oil into. I’ve checked her out in the changing room showers, and I think I’ve got a pretty good idea of what you’re into. But mainly it’s because of the way she reacted when I subtly suggested the more ‘sensual’ aspects of the massage. I think she’ll be, shall we say, a little more receptive to your touch?”



James was developing a crushing erection just hearing about this.



“We need to set up the first aid room to be more like a spa. I can do that. Candles and a tape player and stuff. We’ll wheel the recovery bed into the centre of the room. It’s like a massage table anyway, the mattress is so hard. It’s height adjustable too.”



“Outstanding. You’ve really thought of everything.”



“One more thing. I told her that you would ask her if she would rather you avoided massaging her buttocks and breasts. Figured it would make you sound more professional and also give you an opportunity to read the situation; see if it would be appropriate for your wandering hands to do their thing. But I wholeheartedly recommended that she let you. Said it was the best part.”



“Paint a bit of a picture for me. What’s she like?”



“I don’t want to say too much in case I build her up. Let’s just say tall, lovely long brown hair and tits bigger than mine.”



That final bit of info elicited an audible moan from James’ throat. Sarah giggled, pleased that her machinations were yielding the desired results.



———–



On the evening of the massage, Sarah met James at his old school. Despite it being the summer holidays, the main building and a select few sports facilities were kept open and maintained by a skeleton crew of administrators and cleaners. The main building, which housed the nurse’s office, was essentially deserted and would be locked up at 10.00 – plenty of time for James to indulge his fantasy with his unwitting, if not unwilling, customer.



Sarah showed him to the first aid room and was knocked out by the effort she had put in to decorate it appropriately: dozens of tea lights gave the room a soft, dimly-lit glow; relaxing classical music played at a low volume via a cassette player; and a burning incense stick filled the space with a flowery perfume. The adjustable bed, usually something terrifying-looking with a plasticky mattress topping a multitude of folding legs and wheels, was now an invitingly cosy table of white cotton and linen in the centre of the room.



“Right,” said Sarah, clapping her hands together. “You brought the oil?”



“About 10 different varieties,” responded James, holding up a heavy plastic bag as proof.



“You’ve done your homework about towel positions and stuff? What to ask and how to start?”



“I think so.”



“Great. Well have fun.” She indicated his black track suit bottoms and tight-fitting black T-shirt with a waft of her hand. “You certainly look the part. I’ve got some work to be getting on with. I’ll pop by after your ‘appointment’ and take you to the pub. You can tell me all about it.”



————



It was 7:05, twenty minutes after Sarah had left him, and James was worried he was going to be stood up. He was considering leaving to find his old teacher in the building when a bundle of hair and energy come exploding through the door of the nurse’s office.



“I am sooo sorry,” the young lady gasped, before catching her breath and addressing James with a much more assured if slightly too loud voice. “I don’t know why I thought the medical room would be in exactly the same place as in our school, but I went there anyway. Got lost. I’m Emma, pleased to meet you.”



James shook an outstretched hand and quickly examined the young woman it was attached to. Certainly tall, she stood a good few inches over him even in just her trainers. Her face was open and beaming and James couldn’t decide what was smiling more; her full lipped mouth or her large brown eyes. She was fixing him with such an intense yet happy gaze that he couldn’t avert his eyes from her face to examine her other attributes. She had golden brown skin and not much make up except for a huge amount of eye shadow, which only served to make her eyes look bigger. She was incredibly pretty, like a fashion model but with a rounder, friendlier face.



“Hi, I’m James. Don’t worry this place is like a maze. I’m amazed you found it at all.”



“Well Mrs Parsons did tell me but I’ve got a rubbish sense of direction. Where shall I put these?”



Emma held up the two bags in her hands and hyperactively looked around giving James a brief opportunity to look at her body. Sarah hadn’t been lying about her breasts; even buried under several layers of thin material and a hefty bra (judging by the thick blue shoulder strap on show), their ample nature couldn’t be disguised. She was not as slim as, say, Sarah Parsons, but she certainly was not overweight in any way. James imagined that her frequent running had given her a decently toned physique. He was about to find out first hand.



“Just pop them on that corner chair over there.”



As she turned away from him to deposit her belongings, he could see how long her straight brown hair was, the ends almost obscuring her behind. Her ass was not small but was incredibly round and pert. Some women, James noticed, simply had a place where their thighs met their back in a rather nondescript fashion. This was not the case with Emma – she had an ass! And a fucking good one. She turned around and swept her long straight-cut fringe away from her dark fluttering eyelashes.

“Right,” she puffed, before slapping her hands against the sides of her thighs and fixing James with an expectant stare. “Where do you want me?”



James gave her a warm smile and checked out her clothed body for the final time. He could feel his cock stiffening in his pants.



“We’re all ready to go in that room there. You can go in now and I’ll give you a few minutes to undress – you can just hang your clothes over the back of the chair. Lie face down on the table with a towel covering you, and I’ll join you in a moment.”



“Do I keep my knickers on, or should I be completely naked?”



James was slightly taken aback by the utter lack of coyness displayed.



“It’s entirely up to you. Some clients prefer to keep both their bra and knickers on, others like to be completely nude. So whatever you feel comfortable with.”



“OK great,” she said, and headed into the first aid room, gently closing the door behind her.



James was glad she entered as swiftly as she did, aware that his growing erection would soon be visible through his jogging bottoms. As he waited outside he wondered if he should have been more prescriptive, insisting she was totally naked. No, it was best that he gave her every opportunity to signal any discomfort. If he went back in and she was wearing her underwear underneath the towel, he would know that this would be a more subtle titillation for him and that he should avoid any direct sexual contact. That would be fine, he thought. It would be enough to stare at that semi nude body and rub his hands near and around her assets. He might even be able to persuade her to remove more clothing. His erection reached full capacity thinking about it. To disguise his arousal he reached into his joggers and pulled his erection up and slightly out of his briefs, using the waist band to hold it flat against his pelvis. He then secured his joggers further up his torso to cover the top of his erect cock sticking up out of his underwear. He took a deep breath, and approached the door of the first aid room, rapping on it gently three times.



“I’m ready,” came the distinctly calmer-sounding voice on the other side.



James entered to reverential silence as the music had reached the end of the tape. All that could be heard was the crackling flames of the candles and tea lights. He closed the entrance behind him and locked the old fashioned door with the brass key sticking out the keyhole, before placing it on its hook on the wall nearby. On the table in the middle of the room Emma was lying face down as instructed. A towel covered the area extending between her lower back and her knees, and James was ecstatic to note that her back was completely bare. She had tied up her long trusses in a messy bun revealing her broad shoulders and tanned athletic body. And underneath her honed torso he could see the sides of her massive breasts squashed between the surface of the table and her ribcage.



James attended to the cassette player and found himself standing right next to the chair where Emma had draped her clothes. Two items particularly caught his eye: the generously cupped blue bra and the non-matching pair of white cotton knickers. She was completely naked under the towel! James felt some precum ooze out of the tip of his cock; the pressure of the elasticated waistband was doing little to abate its sensitivity.



“It’s so peaceful in here,” Emma offered, her voice now hushed and calm.



“That’s the idea. We want you to be as relaxed as possible and just enjoy the next hour.”



James saw that Emma’s head was turned in the opposite direction and quickly succumbed to the temptation to pick up her bra and examine the label. She was a 36DD. James knew that it was inevitable that at some point in the next half hour he was going to ask Emma to turn over and catch a glimpse of the biggest tits he had ever seen in the flesh. More precum escaped.



As the music restarted Emma sighed with approval and lifted her dangling arms do that she could rest her chin on her hands. James quickly replaced the bra and approached the table, picking up a bottle of massage oil and another large cotton towel on his way. He stood over his ‘customer’ and took a deep breath, examining her smooth freckled back. Raising her head to rest her chin on her hands had caused her body to lift ever so slightly off of the table, and the sides of her breasts could now be seen more clearly. The flesh peeking out from the edges of her torso was more ample than he could have imagined, and it required a mental check to stop him reaching out and touching there straight away. Instead, he tried to act out his role as professionally as possible so as not to arouse suspicion (if nothing else).



He gently pulled the towel Emma had already covered herself with down slightly, so that it covered the majority of her legs and stopped just above the roundness of her buttocks. He then placed the second towel he had gathered over her back, covering from the neckline to the small of her back.



“Did Sarah explain that I don’t do deep tissue massage or sports massage at the moment?” he offered.



“Yes, she said you were still training. That you just did relaxation massages. Sounds perfect. I just want to unwind and enjoy being pampered.”



Perfect answer. James felt he might be able to push this innocent massage further when the time came. But not yet.



“I’ll start on your back. Let me know if I’m using too much pressure or not enough. The more we communicate the more enjoyable it will be for you.”



James folded the top towel away from him, revealing the left side of Emma’s back and the generous excess of breast flesh underneath. Keeping her hands at the top of the table, she turned her head to the side away from his gaze, allowing him to ogle the modestly presented yet still – underneath all that white cotton – butt naked young woman lying below him. He poured some oil into his warm hands and began firmly stroking her back with his lubricated palms. He explored every inch of her exposed form with strong strokes, the slippery oil allowing him to really engage with and manipulate her body.



“Mmmmm, that’s lovely,” croaked Emma.



James decided to be more bold. He began rubbing oil in purposeful circles into the skin on her sides, just below where her left breast was squashed and partially on display. He then started taking long passes down the entire side of her body with his fingers, ensuring that his finger tips brushed against her side boob with every alternate stroke. As a means of testing the waters, it was a success. All Emma did was sigh pleasurably. After several minutes he replaced the towel and folded it the other way so that he could administer to the other side of her back, and the edge of her right breast. They were small, subtle touches, but the way the flesh yielded under his slippery fingers was joyous. 15 minutes had passed and he was now getting unbearably horny with an overwhelming desire to see and feel more of her body. James knew that a professional masseuse would probably now cover the back and spend a good portion of time on the backs of the legs, but he was impatient. He wanted to be stimulated further and was keen to find out how far he could push things with Emma. He moved to the other side of the table, where the towel was double folded over her back, and lifted it up high enough so that it appeared he was trying to block his view, but low enough that he could actually see the right side of her body.



“OK, if you’d just like to lie on your back for me”, he tried to calmly ask, although the dryness in his throat may have betrayed him.



“Sure,” came the hushed response.



Emma propped her body up with her elbows and began to twist around. However, for the entire manoeuvre she fixed James with an intense yet friendly stare. He couldn’t catch a glimpse of anything without her seeing exactly where he was looking. In his peripheral vision he got the impression that a magnificent pair of tits were just an ogle away, but he couldn’t break eye contact. James was trying to read the look in her eyes. It seemed playful; almost as if she was thinking ‘I know exactly what you’re up to’. Well if she did, she didn’t seem too upset about it. Her back now resting fully in the table, James replaced the towel so that it sat just below her neck. He positioned himself at the top of the table, looking down at her face. She was just as pretty upside down. Now was the moment of truth.



“Some female clients prefer that I avoid touching their breasts. It’s entirely up to you. If you don’t feel comfortable about it I can avoid massaging that area altogether.”



Emma looked into his eyes with an ambiguous expression for what seemed like an eternity, before smiling.



“No, I don’t mind. If it’s a full body massage I might as well get my money’s worth. “



“Great,” came James’ unfortunate reply, as he let a fraction of the erotic anticipation that was welling inside of him escape into his words. He mentally admonished himself for such an unprofessional response, but Emma simply smiled knowingly and closed her eyes.



James took a silent deep breath, and ignoring all the modesty techniques that he knew a proper masseuse would incorporate in this scenario, peeled the top towel down to reveal Emma’s naked chest.



It was a sight of utter sensual beauty. For starters, the usually unflattering effects of gravity were seemingly absent. While her breasts were undeniably large, her 18 year old body had bestowed upon them an almost supernatural firmness that caused them to maintain a semblance of shape and pertness even though she was lying flat on her back – there weren’t even distinct lines of cleavage. Then there was their shape – perfect circular domes of smooth golden brown flesh, centred with two generous dark pink areolas. And to top it all off, two large, puffy nipples; bullet hard and pointing to the ceiling.



James wanted to grab them immediately, but managed to restrain himself and instead worked on Emma’s shoulders. With frequent glances downwards to make sure her eyes were still closed, he took in the sight of those majestic tits. As he manipulated the skin around her décolletage, he could see them move in response, and this only fuelled his already insane levels of arousal. The precum was softly pumping out of his cock on an almost constant basis, and he could feel the area around his pelvis getting cool with the resultant stickiness.



Another look down and his heart skipped a beat as he saw Emma staring directly at him.



“Can I ask you a bit of a personal question?” she sweetly enquired.



“Er, sure,” came the weak voiced response.



“Do you ever get turned on massaging a woman?”



James wasn’t sure how to play this. The instinctive response would be ‘Yeah, I’m aroused right now’ but James couldn’t predict how that would go down. He decided to remain coy.



“No, I’m just focussing on the techniques and the muscle groups and the job I’m doing. It’s like a medical appointment. You couldn’t do it if you thought of it in that way.”



“I suppose,” she pondered, her eyes again closing. “So looking at me topless doesn’t turn you on?”



“You have to maintain a professional boundary. But talking about it doesn’t exactly help.”



“Sorry,” she said apologetically.



James’ reach began to extend further down her chest, his fingers beginning to explore the very tops of her breasts. Emma giggled to herself.



“What’s funny?” asked James, terrified he was the butt of some embarrassing joke.



“Nothing. It’s just I’ve been fighting boys away from my tits since I was 14. I’ve never let a guy touch them even once and now I’m paying one to do it. I just think that’s funny.”



James took her relaxed tone and candid language as a sign that he could be more adventurous. He took another bottle of oil and trickled some of its contents over Emma’s breasts, aiming the sweet smelling lubricant so it landed on and around her nipples. The coolness made her take a sharp intake of air. James distracted her by furthering the conversation.



“Surely you’ve had a boyfriend or two that were allowed?”



“Never really had time for all that. Always working. Always studying. And daddy was always a bit strict when it came to going out. Never really got to socialise with boys much. Not nice ones, anyway. “



“Well I’m sure University will change that.”



And with that casual remark came the culmination of Sarah’s planning and James’ fantasy. He leaned over as far as he was comfortably able and put both his hands directly on top of her amazing tits. She sighed as he firmly circled his palms over the entire surface of her 36DDs, spreading the oil all over. He had been too generous with the lubricant and the cups of his hands were making slurping noises as the oil was distributed, the excess dripping down her sides and onto the cotton underneath her.



The breasts were incredibly firm and despite being bigger, didn’t even yield as much as Sarah’s. He started wondering if they were perhaps implants, as he had heard that fake tits maintained their shape more than natural breasts, but considering Emma’s description of her upbringing, discounted this theory immediately.



James explored every curve and square inch of the tits he was groping. The tips of his fingers investigated underneath the sides and he even lifted them slightly from her chest to apply some oil where her midriff gave way to her magnificent bosom. All the while the palms of his hands were being stimulated by her ever-hard nipples. Even the eventual warmness of his oily hands wasn’t causing them to relax, and he delighted in feeling the turgid tips slide across his sensitive palms. The mixture of textures – the soft yet heavy flesh; the rough hard nipples and the silky lubricant – was making it hard for James to resist going further. He took the thumbs and forefingers of both hands and lightly pinched each nipple, tweaking them to an even more erect state whilst coating them in oil. Emma gasped.



“Is that really a massage technique?” she whispered. James evaded a direct answer.



“Do you want me to stop?” he countered.



“God no,” came the enthusiastic response. James was ecstatic. He literally had her in the palm of his hand.



Emboldened by her attitude James moved around to the side of the table to examine her tits from a different angle. He then reached out with his right hand and forcefully squeezed her oil soaked right breast. Emma moaned approvingly. The facade of a professional massage was fading fast, especially when James started flicking her nipple with his thumb before running delicate circles around the areola.



Emma then raised a hand, ostensibly to adjust her hair, but with such an exaggerated motion that she was clearly trying to achieve something else. And indeed, on the way up, her hand brushed against James hidden erection, knocking it free from the grip of his waist band. She fired a cheeky grin at him that reminded him of Sarah.



“You ARE turned on,” she challenged, but in an adorably sweet way. James looked down at the protrusion of fabric over his groin and sighed.



“With certain clients it’s sometimes hard…”



“It certainly is!” she interrupted with a giggle. James offered one more ‘get out’ for her.



“Should I stop?” he feebly offered.



“I think you probably should,” came the disappointing reply together with a hearty laugh. She then continued with a softer, hushed tone. “But I don’t want you to.”



She gave him a nervous look finished with a shy half smile. James still had her lubed-up tit in his grasp. He gave it another squeeze, causing her to grin and close her eyes.



“Why don’t you work on my legs for a while?” she suggested. “It’ll give you a chance to calm down.”



James dutifully complied, but not with the intention of calming down. The professional nature of the session now a distant memory, James left her glistening tits exposed as he moved down to the foot of the table and peeled the lower towel upwards, revealing first her ankles, then her calves, her knees and most of her thighs. He stopped short of revealing her crotch, but had a feeling she would be happy for him to expose it in due course.



With a fresh squirt of oil he began covering her right leg with a layer of lubricant, sensuously caressing underneath her knees and along the inside if her thighs as he did so.



Emma’s breathing rate was increasing, noticeable both through her breathy sounds and the rise and fall of her chest that James was keeping constant tabs on. He concentrated his attention on her thigh, spreading his fingers firmly around the muscle and up into the area near her crotch where the towel was barely covering. Indeed, the more he pushed his fingers northwards, the further the towel was displaced. Emma was keeping her legs very close together, and James started to worry he was pushing this girl too far in a direction she might not want to go. If she hadn’t even let a guy touch her breasts, she was clearly a virgin. Maybe this exploration towards her pussy was a step too far. Then James noticed something that might have explained her reticence – the inside of her thigh was lubricated at the very top, but it wasn’t with James’ oil.



“You’re turned on too,” James whispered.



“I was hoping you wouldn’t notice,” said Emma, who, much to James’ delight, began to part her legs to show the extent of her horniness.



The cotton towel she was lying on was absolutely soaked with her juices. James took the implied invitation to push his hands further up the inside of her leg towards the source of her wetness. He could now see where her round buttocks met the table, and the engorged lips of her labia. They glistened with sticky appreciation. James removed the last vestiges of her modesty by pulling at the towels and letting them slide off of her body. Emma didn’t flinch. She had a subtle round belly that complemented the curves of her hips and, of course, her breasts. Just below was a generous but well trimmed patch of dark brown pubic hair. James gently parted her labia with two of his fingers. This did elicit a reaction; a squeak of excitement and perhaps trepidation. James paused in case there was an objection, but none was forthcoming. And so he slowly and deliberately sunk a finger into her tight, wet pussy. A loud cry of pleasure escaped from Emma’s mouth – it was the kind of cry that almost sounded like a wince of pain and the contortion of her face did little to convince otherwise. But the broad smile that followed let James know she was far from hurting. He plunged his finger in further, as far as his hand would allow. His digit displaced more silky liquid from her cunt and it erupted with a satisfying squelch onto his hand.



“Oooooh fuck, yes… “Emma moaned, writhing her pelvis and pushing down onto the digital intrusion.



James withdrew and then slowly entered her again, this time with two fingers. Emma gripped the towel she was lying on as if it were a lifeline and her body stiffened. She threw her head back and opened her mouth to give a silent scream. James kept his fingers inside her moist cunt and started massaging her engorged clit with his thumb. Emma was whimpering now, and as she involuntarily jerked her body, her tits finally moved in a way that befit their massive size, flailing around on top of her chest like two jellies on a shaking tray. The sight of her animated breasts meant James could no longer abstain from pleasuring his own body, and put his free hand down his pants, greeting his precum-soaked erection with an enthusiastic grip.



“Play with your tits,” he gently ordered. Emma looked down at him and then at her own oily breasts with a look that suggested she had forgotten they were even there. She released her grip on the table and moved her hands to her chest, taking advantage of the lubrication still present to apply a series of tight-looking squeezes to her oily tits. With each enthusiastic grip, the slippery flesh of her breasts spilled out of her fingers, ready to be retrieved by the next stroke of her hand. The sensation must have enhanced her pleasure because she was now producing high pitched grunts in time with James’ manipulations. Not since his encounter with Mrs Parsons in the shower had he managed to get a woman so close to orgasm so quickly. He decided to go for it.

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