He introduced himself – he had a very subtle, but rather sexy Australian accent – and asked how he could help me. I explained that my shoulders were tight, but that I could really do with a full rub down, fluttering my eyelashes pointlessly. He told me that would be no problem and suggested I lay on his treatment couch when I was quite ready.

Now this is naughty, but classic me. As I stood there facing this handsome young man, I slowly began to draw my camisole upwards, exposing my golden brown tummy, nice and smooth, but with that tiny swell I love. I pulled it higher, staring at him and revealing the lower curve of my breasts and then little by little, my soft pink nipples all pouting and ready to be teased. I finally whipped my top above my head and tossed it towards my other clothes. My pussy ached to be teased as I exposed my upper body. I was even naughty enough to take my nipples between thumb and forefingers and pull at them, feeling them grow yet tighter in my grip, biting against my soft lips as I stared straight at the handsome masseur. If only he knew what I was doing, I thought. He might grab me and bend me over his treatment couch lift up my towel and fuck me the way a naughty girl deserves to be fucked. But…of course he didn’t know what I was doing and it was really no good at all, me playing games. I was here for a massage and was quite sure I could get his number afterwards with very little effort at all. I would give Michael a special dance, but the rules would have to change of course…he would be allowed to touch me anywhere and everywhere, just so he could read my body you understand.

I quickly lay myself down on his massage table, slotting my face into the cradle and relaxing my body as best I could. The bench purred into action as Michael raised it to a suitable height.

“Alright Amanda…let’s see what your body needs shall we?” he suggested and my poor, swollen clit pulsed, letting me know exactly what it needed.

I moaned a tiny moan as his warm, dry fingertips lighted across my shoulders. They slipped expertly across my body applying pressure at certain points, slipping along tight muscles and between ribs. I was pleasantly shocked when his fingertips pressed against my bottom and slipped lower still across the back of my thighs and all the way down to my feet.

“Ok Amanda! I think I’ve got you read. You are either a seriously dangerous kung fu expert or a dancer, but wait…don’t tell me,” he said, quickly stepping to the head of the table and taking my hands in his, stoking them so wonderfully along each finger. “Just as I thought,” he continued. “If you are a kung fu killer you only use your feet so I am gonna take a wild guess and say you dance for a living.”

He was so sweet, boy-like in a way and I couldn’t wait to open my legs wide for him and guide is big, stiff cock inside of my hot, wet cunt.

“How did you know?” I asked.

“You get used to treating dancers in this game. I can tell by how tight certain muscles are, how developed are others, and how umm…well contoured a dancer’s