I’ve been fucking my massage therapist for several months.

It started off so innocently. It was my first time booking at his practice. I found him to be incredibly attractive. The first 20 minutes of the session was silent. Somehow we began talking and from there the conversation just flowed. He was so easy to talk to, so inquisitive, and I enjoyed hearing his perspective on the topics we discussed—my work, how he got into massage therapy, business, art. I usually don’t prefer to talk during my sessions so I can fully disconnect, but I didn’t mind talking to him. I actually enjoyed it. The session ended and I felt energized, both by the bodywork and our conversation.

I saw him again the following month and we had normal small talk before the conversation evolved to sexual topics. As he was working on me, I began sharing my perspective on porn (I personally love it and watch often). We continued to talk and flowed in an out of various topics. There was a level of chemistry and energy shift I was sensing from him and also feeling within myself. He seemed to be intrigued about my perspective on sex and asked follow up questions to keep me talking. I shared one particular sexual experience of mine where I casually approached a man, asked pointedly if he wanted to fuck, and met up that evening and fucked him. I was upfront with what I was wanting from this dynamic—I only wanted sex and nothing more (no dating, gifts, sleep overs, etc). He understood. I fucked him a few times before he caught feelings and wanted more from me. I told my massage therapist about how I ended it because I didn’t want anything more than sex. He responded by saying, “What? He’s crazy, why would he mess that up??”

My massage therapist began to share some of his sexual experiences in explicit detail. He continued to massage me while I lay face down and share about how he fucked this woman in front of her husband, stretching her pussy as the husband watched. I could feel myself getting wet as he went on. I could hear his voice change as he recalled those details, he sounded turned on and I wondered if he was hard as he touched me. I was too shy to lift my face from the face cradle to look. But, I could feel my clit throbbing and how drenched my pussy was. Then the massage ended. I was so turned on that I went straight to my bedroom when I got home and fucked myself.

I continued to see him for a couple more sessions before anything progressed sexually. I found myself thinking about him often and fucked myself to the thought of him stretching out someone else’s pussy. I desperately wanted him to stretch mine. I booked my next massage after I came.

Prior to my upcoming session, we connected on Instagram. We didn’t interact much but would ‘like’ or ‘react’ to each other’s Stories. I did add him to my “close friends list” and shared some sexually suggestive Stories to get a pulse check and tease him a bit—which he positively responded to. I showed up to this session open to the possibility of exploring more with him sexually. While we never outright discussed this, I felt like our chemistry and connection was leading us in this direction. The session began and there was more silence than usual, so I was caught off guard. His massage felt more sensual. I wore nothing but a black lace g-string and when we started to work on my glutes, he aggressively grabbed my thong and pulled it up slightly. I immediately got wet. We started talking about sex again and he alluded to how (hypothetically) he would need to stop seeing clients professionally if they were to progress a more personal relationship.

I was silent for several minutes, I couldn’t utter a word as I was processing what he said. I sensed made him nervous as if he misread the signals and crossed a line with me that I didn’t want him to cross. I finally spoke and shared that I would be open to it. He perked up and said “Really?!”, I looked up and could see he was hard through his pants. Going into this session, I was hoping things would progress so I was ready with my freshly shaved, smooth pussy. I was soaking wet.

He stopped the session and asked if he could touch me. I smiled and nodded as he slid his hand under my lace panties. He softly pressed his fingers between my lips and let out a soft moan, “Fuuuuck, you’re so wet.”

He picked me up and placed me upright on the massage table while he stood in front of me. He lifted my leg and placed it over his shoulder, then pressed his chest into mine. I got even more wet feeling his strength against me. He started making out with me and I felt completely ravished. He kissed me so deeply as he finger fucked me. He begged me to suck his cock, “Please suck it”. The way he said “please” so gently turned me on. I bent over while still on the table, unzipped his pants, looked up at him slowly while his thick, uncut cock dangled in front of my lips, I softly asked “How do you like your cock sucked?” He smirked and said “sloppy”.

I grabbed his cock, smiled and said “Fuck, I knew you would be big.” I looked back up at him, gently smeared his precum on my lips while I stared at him, then I aggressively spat on his cock. I let him have his way with my mouth.

I was dripping wet at this point and he begged to fuck me. There was only a few minutes left in our session and I said we’d have to stop. I didn’t want to feel rushed. He looked crushed, but we made plans to meet up that evening at his office.

That evening, I showed up in lingerie. He carried me as we began to make out. He used his cock and played with my clit, teasing me before he started to stretch my pussy. He let out soft groans and mentioned how tight I was. When he finally slid into me, I fucking lost it. I was so wrapped into how amazing he felt inside me that I didn’t realize he was fucking me raw.

I couldn’t comprehend the level of pleasure I l felt for the first time. I’ve never had an orgasm with a partner and felt myself let go while he ate me out while finger fucking me simultaneously. The flood gates opened, chemistry flowed after the many agonizing months of sexual tension building up. I felt completely ravished and I wanted more of him.

When we finished having sex, we just laid and talked. Sharing parts of ourselves we never shared with others. The emotional intimacy was building. The conversation just flowed as we cuddled while I gently played with his balls. I could feel him getting hard again and begged him to fuck me. He came a second time, this time in the condom. As he pulled out of me, I took the condom off his cock, held the condom over my mouth, and squeezed his warm cum into my mouth while I stared at him. I didn’t want to waste it and swallowed his load.

I stopped being his client, but we continued to see each other. Each time we met up, we picked up where we left off, the passion continued to build. We hooked up a few times and continued to stay in touch on social. After our last meet up, I started feeling overwhelmed and made a tough decision to pause on seeing him. There was so much going on in my life that started to take a mental toll on me. He was understanding and respectful of my decision, but left the door open to reconnect in the future if I ever wanted to.

As months went by, he popped up in my mind. I can’t tell you how many nights I fucked myself to the thought of him. I missed his cock and I honestly just missed him.

5 months into the break, I initiated contact with a birthday greeting to him. I remembered his birthday and wanted to let him know that I was thinking of him. A couple of days later, we video chatted to explore the possibility of revisiting our situation (which we both were open to). I appreciated how great of a communicator he was, he openly shared how he felt during the break and I shared where I was at. We (loosely) made plans to meet up and discussed new boundaries. I could feel how wet I was getting at just the thought of having him inside me again.

A couple of weeks later, we coordinated our next meet up. I showed up to his office dripping wet, holding a small birthday cake for him and…