This is not that kind of story. It's rather long, so bear with me, and see if it's worth the read.

Late March. We'd finally decided to meet after chatting for three months. We weren't strangers -- we had been swim classmates for a semester more than a decade ago -- but we never knew each other this way: naked and wet against the cold tiles of the bathroom wall, skin bared and lips parted as the warm water cascaded over us.

We carelessly lathered soap over each other's skin, more eager to rub against each other than to truly get clean. It wasn't long when he flipped me over and pushed me against the wall, leaving me powerless as he rinsed us down and hooked a clean finger inside me, eking the first orgasm out of me faster than I'd ever done solo.

He rubbed me down with a towel and gently guided me back to the bed, instructing me to lie on my front. At that moment I wasn't sure what to expect. Did he want to fuck me in the ass? I wasn't quite prepared for that. Did he want to take me from behind? I didn't remember him wearing a condom. Nerves crept up my spine as paranoia reared its ugly head, but just as I turned to look back at him, I heard the pop of a lube bottle and saw the smirk on his face. "Soft, medium, or hard, maam?"

I couldn't help myself - I laughed in disbelief. "Oh god doc, are you going to give me a massage?"

He grinned back at me and explained how he wanted to give me something different. Something for me to remember him by. Then he told me to lay back down and let him do his work.

I'd never gotten a sensual massage before -- at least, not successfully -- and all the fear I felt turned to simmering arousal. I shivered as he poured cold lube on my back, from my nape all the way down to the valley of my ass. Then his warm hands glided over my lower back, spreading the lube all over my skin, and started kneading the knots of my sore muscles away.

I melted, dear reader. I was reduced to putty as those experienced hands dug into the divots of my body, forcing my blood to move where he wanted it to go. He started with my back, tracing up to my spine, until he reached my shoulders and massaged the stress away from that too. Then he went lower, rubbing my back with his experienced hands, and I was so relaxed, all I could do was purr into the pillow beneath me.

But unlike the many full body massages I'd gotten before, this was not chaste. And he reminded me of that fact as his fingers started swiping at the sides of my breast, inching closer and closer until he could finally cup my boobs in his palms. What had been gentle turned to a more ruthless approach as he pinched my nipples between his fingertips, making me scream in glorious pain. Slicked hands kneaded at my bosom, squeezing and pulling and pinching as if to draw milk, sending me over the edge as the pain and pleasure melded into one.

I came under him like that, crying in ecstasy as he brought me to the peak, and I was so wet I could feel my empty pussy gush in protest at being untouched. This time I begged him to touch me, rolling my ass back at his crotch, and if he cursed under his breath I wasn't cognizant enough to hear it, not with my pulse pumping so loudly in my ears.

My prayers did not go unanswered. His hands left my sore tits and moved to my sizable ass, squeezing and parting them to reveal my desperation. I heard him groan and chuckle as he opened me up wider. "Wow, you're so wet already, huh?"

I tried to say yes, but all that left my lips was a loud moan as he bypassed my cunt, swiping low until he reached my clit. He rubbed at it with the precision of a man so familiar with the human body - inside and out - leaving me shaking and crying under his touch. When he made me come again, for the third time in less than an hour, he dug his thumbs into the apex of my inner thighs, forcing those pressure points until I released once more.

By then, I was a wet, shivering mess, drenched in both lube and my own fluids. But he wasn't done yet. No, far from it. He spread my legs wide and fucked me with his fingers, pressing deep inside, behind my clit until I was seeing stars. He turned me over and pulled me in for a torrid kiss as he pulled climax after climax from my sex, alternating between my clit and my cunt, keeping me riding that high for so long I was already jerking uncontrollably under him. Then I finally reached it: that mystical orgasm where the world turns white, and I turned limp in his arms, floating in the gentle haze of a good fucking.

I didn't know how long that lasted. Was it a minute, or three? I could barely think as he let go of me and lowered me on my back, wiping the sweat off my brow with a clean wrist. Then he sat back and lifted his fingers -- the same ones that had been in me -- to his mouth, and moaned at the taste of my juices. His playful eyes turned smoldering, and he traced wet kisses over my sensitized body, trailing down until his lips closed over my swollen clit.

Needless to say, I could not count how many times I came that night. And it ruined massages for me, forever.

My friend, your hands have etched themselves deep into my skin, but I'm sure I misremembered some details in this story. If you're reading this -- and maybe you do, since I know you lurk here -- care to finally clear up your schedule and remind me how it really went? If not, then let this remain a fond memory, one preserved in the annals of alasjuicy.