In the main hall, the people who sat down at the table, who, having soaked their throats, continued to slow.
You lie on the massage table, diligently focusing your attention on how your body slowly becomes softer, the muscles of the calves rest tiredly after your heels, and your toes enjoy freedom after cramped but terribly beautiful shoes.
You don’t want to think about anything else, you came here to relax.
This is not enough for you.
Eyes are treacherously closed, breathing becomes even, deep and infrequent, but you are not sleeping, just calmed down.
You hear the massage therapist enter.
It is so good for you to lie here after a working day, that you don’t even open your eyes to look at it, only your eyelashes faltered, welcoming it.
Hopefully, he noticed it and that’s enough for him.
The sound of the screw cap.
Yeah, he is now gently pouring massage oil on his palm, warming it to body temperature.
He tightened the lid with one hand (master!), Put the bottle back in place.
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Neat what, wow.
Silently fits, with one hand (in the second, oil) throws off the top of the sheet.
Oh, and not even cold at all.
It touches the muscles of the back somewhere between the shoulder blades.
What a beautiful rough movement, and not at all “bite.”
Yeah, that’s the back of his hand.
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It turns out that my back loves hair on the hands of men.
Not all men.
Yeah, that’s oil.
gently pours oil from the palm of your hand, not in a stream, but not in angry droplets, but somehow immediately and evenly and correctly, and then it slips with the palm of your hand (like butter.
) from neck to waist.
Comes back already with two palms, and again down, already with a little effort.
Ohhhh, how nice.
Strokes turn into vigorous massaging movements, the skin tremulously responds.
blood rushes, warming is felt.
All feelings are sharpened.
Little by little hands move to the lower back.
With slow, but strong confident movements across the spine, blood accelerates through the abdomen.
The abdomen involuntarily retracts, arms extended forward squeeze the sheet in the fingers.
But the hands of the massage therapist do not stop, and having overcome the invisible barrier, you can already feel how the palms pass along the buttocks, moving the sheet.
First, the hips on the outside, then they are already on the buttocks, and then you realize that warm gentle palms are already on the inner surface of the hips, slowly descend to the knees and rise back from the knees above.
You are torn by two conflicting feelings – you want to say “enough” and “continue” at the same time.
But he knows everything himself and passes without touching what is not to be touched.
Passes nearby, close again, again.
And the feeling is getting stronger, the stomach is already shrinking independently, in response to the movement of his palms. You have long closed your eyes closed and now you just want to say “Daaaaaa”, but you endure as partisans, clenching your teeth.
You want to ask him to stop this sweet torture, but you restrain yourself as you can.
in the meantime, his hands had already examined every inch of your hips.
and when he holds under your knee, a current pierces you. Eliness bongacams.