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“Yes, ma’am.” He repositioned his head into the face hole at the edge of the table.
I took a deep breath in and began rubbing the oil into his back. His skin was warm, his muscles tight—so knotted and tense. I stood off to the side, using the weight of my body to press both of my palms down, moving them slowly in a straight line from the bottom of his back to the top. He expelled a long, guttural breath that made my body buzz. While unwanted desire flowed through me, I could feel some of the tension lifting from him. So at least one of us was having an appropriate response.
After a couple of minutes, I applied even more of my body weight as I switched to moving my forearms along the length of his back, this time landing lower, closer to the top of his ass. His breathing became a bit more labored, and even though I was conscious of the shift, my own nerves had calmed. I was now comfortable, despite maybe enjoying this a little too much. But honestly, I’d have to have been dead not to enjoy this. He didn’t need to know I’d be going home later and replaying it all in my head.
When I began to use my elbows to dig into his back, he let out a groan and muttered, “Fuck, that’s good.”
Those words felt like they vibrated through my entire body and landed on my clit. Still, I vowed to focus my attention on the job of making him feel good and not on the fact that he was making me feel good, too.
I moved to the front of the table so I could better work the top of his back and lower neck. My abdomen brushed along his hair. It wasn’t intentional; there was simply no way to reach over him without that contact. It normally didn’t even faze me, but with Dax, even the slightest things affected me. He surprised me at one point when he lifted his head to look up at me. His eyes locked with mine, and I nearly froze, because I didn’t want him to see the look on my face. I worried I couldn’t hide how aroused touching him had made me. I thought maybe he’d say something, but he just stared a moment before he returned to his spot.
I eventually moved down to his legs, rubbing both of my hands in a firm line up his left calf and the back of his thigh.
“Is this level of pressure good?” I asked. “Or do you want it deeper?”
“The way you’re doing it is perfect.”
His feet were as large as I might have expected, given his height, and I noticed his toes curling. He was definitely enjoying this. It gave me pleasure to know I could help such a tightly wound man decompress.
As I moved over to the other leg, he seemed so relaxed that I thought he might have fallen asleep. It wasn’t until he let out another slight groan of pleasure that I realized he was awake.
After finishing the back of his body, I lightly tugged on his towel and said, “You can turn over now.”
He tensed and didn’t move. Finally, he said, “No. I’m sorry. I can’t.”
Dax
A rush of adrenaline shot through me the second she asked me to turn over. I don’t know what I was thinking, but I absolutely did not realize this massage involved the front of my body, too. What the fuck did I think full body meant? This wasn’t good. I’d had a plan. I was going to wrap the damn towel around me and leave the room before I let on that she’d given me a hard-on. But now what?
Now I had no choice but to end this immediately or turn over and salute her—or maybe offer her the opportunity to hang her coat on my cock.
I turned my head to look at her. “I…can’t turn around right now.”
“Why not?” she asked.
I glared at her.
She got the drift pretty quickly. “Oh.”
“Earlier when you said people in this situation could lose control of their bodily functions, it didn’t occur to me that I could get a…”
“You know that happens all the time, too, right?”
“Well, that’s fucked up.”
“It’s involuntary. High levels of oxytocin are released during a massage and can cause it to happen.”
“You make it sound so scientific.”
“You don’t have to turn over. I’ll just go over your upper back again to make up the time. It’s not a big deal. You were really relaxed. It was great. So try to go back to that.”
Thankful for the opportunity to stay facing down, I did my best to close my eyes again and forget about the fucking awkwardness. I would’ve loved to feel her hands on my chest, too, if I could do it without my dick pointing at her face. But it wasn’t going to happen. The level of control I’d apparently given up had far exceeded what I’d imagined. It was probably a good thing I couldn’t look at her from this angle. That would’ve undoubtedly made my predicament far worse.
