The Masseur Part 1 |


Best try on Chrome browser.

Emma lay face down on the massage table, her breath shallow and controlled. The room was dimly lit, with soft ambient music playing in the background, creating an atmosphere of relaxation that she desperately needed after a long week. Her muscles were tense, knotted from hours spent hunched over her computer at work. The promise of a deep tissue massage had been exactly what she needed to unwind. The door creaked open, and Emma felt a slight shift in the air as someone entered.

She didn’t bother lifting her head from the cushioned face cradle; she assumed it was her masseuse arriving for their appointment. She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply through her nose, anticipating the soothing touch that was about to begin.

“Good afternoon,” came a deep, velvety voice that sent a shiver up Emma’s spine.

The voice was smoother than silk, rich, and undeniably masculine. It wasn’t the voice of the petite female masseuse she had expected. This was someone entirely different. Her curiosity piqued, and Emma slowly turned her head, opening her eyes to look over her shoulder. What she saw made her heart skip a beat.

Standing there, draped casually in a towel around his waist, was a man who could only be described as chiseled perfection. His body was a masterpiece of muscle definition, every contour sculpted with precision. His dark hair was tousled just enough to appear effortlessly handsome, and his piercing blue eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that left her breathless. “I’m sorry,” she stammered, suddenly selfconscious in her simple cotton robe.

“I must have the wrong… I thought you were…”

He smiled, a slow, knowing grin that seemed to speak volumes without uttering a word. “No mistake here, Mrs. Thompson,” he said, stepping closer. His bare feet made no sound on the polished wooden floor as he approached the table.

“My name is Adam. I’m here to give you the massage you’ve been waiting for.”

Emma swallowed hard, her mouth dry. She couldn’t deny the immediate attraction she felt towards Adam. He was everything she had ever fantasized about but never dared to pursue. Now, here he was, offering her something she hadn’t realized she wanted until this very moment. “Lie back down,” Adam instructed gently, his voice firm yet reassuring. Emma obeyed, sinking into the table once more, her mind racing with conflicting thoughts.

As she settled back into the face cradle, Adam’s hands began their work, starting at her shoulders. His fingers dug deep into the tight muscles there, expertly applying pressure to release the tension. Emma gasped involuntarily, the sensation both painful and blissful. His touch was masterful, each stroke calculated to bring relief while igniting a fire deep within her. “You’re very tense,” Adam remarked, his voice close to her ear, sending another shiver down her spine.

“We’ll need to work on this for a while.” Emma nodded, unable to form coherent words.

Her body betrayed her, arching slightly into his touch, craving more of the delicious torment he offered. She could feel the heat between her legs intensifying, desire pooling low in her abdomen. She had to remind herself that she was a married woman and that Brad would never approve of what she was feeling. However, Adam seemed to sense her inner turmoil. He moved lower, kneading her back with strong, confident strokes. Each movement of his hands brought her closer to the edge, making it harder for her to cling to the thread of reason.

“Relax,” he murmured, though his tone suggested he knew exactly how little control she had left. “Let me take care of you.”

As if hypnotized, Emma let out a soft moan, surrendering to the sensations he evoked. She could feel his fingertips tracing along the rim of her panties, just barely brushing against her skin. The contact was electrifying, sending jolts of pleasure through her entire body. “Brad would never…” she started to say, but Adam cut her off with a gentle, almost tender kiss to her exposed neck.

“Shh,” he whispered, his lips trailing kisses down to her collarbone. “Just enjoy this moment. You deserve it.” His words sparked something dangerous within her. A part of her that had always been hidden, even from herself. The part that longed for adventure, and excitement outside the boundaries of her marriage. With each passing second under Adam’s skillful ministrations, that part grew stronger, pushing her towards the precipice. Adam shifted positions, moving his hands to her hips, where he began to apply firm, rhythmic pressure.

Emma bit her lip to stifle a groan, her body trembling with anticipation as she lay on the massage table. She could feel his erection pressing against her thigh, a tantalizing reminder of the intense passion simmering between them.

“Tell me what you want, Emma,” Adam urged, his voice a seductive rasp.

She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the urge to give in completely. But his words, his touch, tore down the last vestiges of her restraint. In a moment of reckless abandon, she opened her mouth to respond—

As Adam’s strong hands kneaded the tension from Emma’s lower back, she bit her lip to suppress a moan. The room was filled with the soft scent of lavender oil and the faint, rhythmic sound of calming music. But all Emma could focus on was the electric tingle spreading through her body with each of Adam’s touches.

“How does that feel?” Adam asked, his voice low and smooth.

Emma swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper.

“It feels… amazing,” she admitted, her cheeks flushing as she felt another wave of desire crash over her.

Adam moved up to her shoulders, working out knots with expert precision. “You carry a lot of stress here,” he commented, his fingers pressing into the muscle below her neck. Emma closed her eyes, leaning into his touch.

“I know,” she sighed. “Work, family… it never ends.”

“Well, let’s get rid of some of that stress,” Adam said, his tone playful but professional.

He shifted slightly, moving his hands to her upper arms, massaging them in firm, circular motions. The sensation was intoxicating. Emma’s mind raced with conflicting thoughts. Her morality warred with her intense physical attraction to Adam. She knew this wasn’t right, but her body betrayed her, craving more of his skilled touch.

“Turn over onto your back,” Adam instructed, guiding her gently by placing a hand on her shoulder.

Emma complied, feeling a pang of guilt as she did so. She couldn’t help but notice how her loosefitting robe gaped open slightly, exposing the swell of her breasts. She adjusted it nervously, trying to restore some semblance of modesty. Adam positioned himself at the head of the table, his muscular arms coming into full view as he reached for the massage oil.

“Let me work on your neck and face,” he suggested, squeezing a generous amount of oil onto his hands before rubbing them together to warm it up.

As his fingers smoothed over her forehead, Emma felt herself relax for the first time since entering the room. The coolness of the oil mixed with the heat of Adam’s palms created an almost hypnotic effect. She found herself sinking deeper into the table, surrendering to the sensations.

“Feel good?” Adam murmured, his thumbs pressing into her temples with just the right amount of pressure.

“Mmhmm,” Emma responded dreamily, her eyes fluttering shut.

Adam continued his ministrations, sliding his hands down to her jawline and then along the sides of her neck. His touch was both gentle and firm, eliciting shivers down Emma’s spine. She tried to keep her breaths even, but the way Adam’s fingers traced the line of her throat made it nearly impossible.

“Your skin is so soft,” Adam commented, almost absently, as if he was lost in the moment too.

Emma’s heart pounded in her chest, the compliment making her pulse quicken. She wanted to pull away, to tell him this was inappropriate, but she remained frozen, unable to break the spell his touch had woven around her. Adam’s hands moved lower, his thumbs circling the base of her skull. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her ear.

“Would you like me to work on anything else?” he asked softly, his voice dripping with insinuation.

Emma’s mouth went dry. She knew she should say no, that she needed to stop this before things escalated any further. But the magnetic pull of his proximity, the raw power of his touch, rendered her incapable of rational thought.

“Yyes,” she stammered, her voice barely audible. Adam’s lips curved into a knowing smile.

“Turn back over onto your stomach,” he instructed, his tone brooking no argument.

Emma hesitated, her conscience screaming at her to stop, to leave, to preserve what little dignity she had left. But her body moved without her permission, rolling obediently onto her front. Adam repositioned himself at the foot of the table, his presence looming large and imposing. He poured more oil into his hands, the liquid glistening in the dim lighting. As he began to rub it into her calves, Emma’s entire body tensed.

“Relax,” Adam commanded, his tone assertive. “You need to let go.”

Emma tried, she really did, but every nerve ending seemed to be on high alert, hyperaware of Adam’s every move. His hands worked their way up her legs, hands gliding effortlessly over her slick skin. When they reached the backs of her thighs, Emma’s breath caught in her throat.

“There we go,” Adam murmured approvingly, his thumbs pressing deeply into the sensitive flesh just above her knees. “That’s better.”

Emma bit her lip hard, the pain grounding her momentarily. But the sensation of Adam’s hands roaming higher, tracing the curve of her buttocks, obliterated any sense of restraint. She felt a strange mix of shame and excitement, her body betraying her will with every heated caress. Adam seemed to sense her internal struggle.

“It’s okay to enjoy this,” he whispered, his voice husky. “Just let yourself feel.”

Emma whimpered, the sound escaping before she could contain it. Adam’s hands were relentless, exploring every inch of her, igniting fires she hadn’t known existed. She felt like she was on the brink of falling apart, but instead of fear, there was only anticipation.

“Please,” Emma gasped, the word slipping out unbidden. Adam paused, his hands still resting on her hips. “What do you want, Emma?” he asked, his voice thick with desire. Emma’s mind went blank, all coherent thought fleeing as she struggled to form words. All she knew was that she wanted—needed—more. “Touch me,” she managed, her voice trembling.

Adam didn’t hesitate. His fingers dipped beneath the edge of her robe, brushing against the delicate lace of her panties. Emma bucked against the intrusion, her hips lifting off the table involuntarily.

“Mmm. So responsive,” Adam growled, his voice rough with lust. “Do you like that?”

Emma nodded frantically, unable to speak as waves of pleasure coursed through her body. She felt the cool air on her exposed skin, the heat of Adam’s palm as he cupped her through the thin fabric.

“Tell me what you want,” Adam demanded, his fingers pressing insistently against her aching center.

Emma’s vision blurred with tears of need. “Take me,” she begged, the words tumbling out in a rush. “Make me yours.”