vague ache below her
belly.
Greg massaged his way down to her ankles and
then took each foot in turn, pressing into the ball and the arch with such
skillful pressure she moaned in helpless response. Waves of relaxation washed
over her body with a deeper pleasure swelling up at its heels. “So good. Yeah,
right there. Oh God!”
“Turn over,” he said at last, releasing her
foot. It dropped to the mattress with a flop, since she didn’t have the energy
to hold it up on her own.
She turned over obediently, not even
self-conscious even though she was naked except for her tank top.
Greg massaged the muscles on the upper side
of her thighs until he’d reached her pelvis.
She saw him staring down at her groin—at the
trimmed strip of hair and the folds of flesh that hid her pussy. But he didn’t
touch her there. Just pushed up her top until she’d raised her arms to let him
pull it off.
The massage had shifted into something
different when he began to knead the soft, heavy swells of her breasts. She was
still moaning—low and hoarse—but it was as much from the pulsing of her growing
arousal as it was from the delicious softening of her muscles.
He took his time, alternating between squeezing
and brushing the stiff peaks of her nipples with the hard texture of his hand.
She was wet now. Her eyes were clenched shut,
and she couldn’t keep from arching up into his hands.
“Greg!” she gasped at last, the one word
almost a plea.
He let go of her breasts and moved back down
her body, finally reaching the place he’d passed over before. He nudged her
thighs apart and she spread them for him willingly. He slid his fingertips
along the warm, swollen flesh, exposing her pussy to his view.
Victoria bent her arms up beside her head,
hiding her face against her shoulder.
She let out a shuddering breath when he slid
two of his fingers into her slippery pussy, massaging her inner walls with the
same attention he’d given the rest of her.
One of her legs bent up with a jerk, and she
huffed out a sound of pleasure.
“Mm,” she gasped, trying not to jerk her
hips against his hand. “My clit. I need…”
His thumb closed down on her aching clit,
and her whole body tightened in response.
“Oh baby,” Greg rasped, “You’re so
gorgeous.”
Her orgasm was so close she wanted to claw
at the bed, but she managed to choke out, “Liar.”
He chuckled—but his voice sounded rather
strained as he said, “Don’t force it, baby. Take a deep breath.” His fingers
pumped inside her, and his thumb slowly rubbed circles over her clit.
She had no idea why he was telling her that,
but she was too far gone to argue. She forced herself to take a deep breath and
felt the pleasure surging forward as she exhaled.
“God!” she cried out on her next inhale,
managing to release another slow breath.
This time her climax spiraled up so hard she
felt her vision darken. She choked on the spasms of pleasure as her pussy
clenched ruthlessly around Greg’s fingers.
He sustained his massage until the last of
her contractions faded.
Victoria’s body went limp as she desperately
tried to catch her breath, and she lay in a debauched, sated, naked sprawl.
“Wow!”
Greg gave a huff of amusement and stretched
out beside her, propped up on a couple of pillows. “Not bad, huh?”
“Wow,” Victoria said again, staring up
blankly at the ceiling. “Why didn’t I know to breathe like that before? How did
you get so good at this?”
“I must be naturally talented.” His voice
was dry and amused.
She looked over at him. Despite his tone,
there was a sheen of perspiration on his forehead, and she could see his
erection through the loose fabric of his sweat pants.
She gave him a naughty smile and hauled her
relaxed body up until she was able to grab at his waistband. “Now it’s your
turn. I’ll have you know I’m pretty talented myself.”
He opened his mouth to respond but was
distracted by her pulling down his pants. She
Learning to Kill: Stories