He had promised that the massage would leave her completely relaxed and refreshed. She lay on the bed her perfect figure rising and falling gently as she breathed. She was wearing nothing save for an eye cover that he had kept from his last flight home from Barbados.
He crouched beside her and silently started to massage each finger in turn of her right hand. Just this action was sufficient to make him hard in anticipation of what was to come. He slowly worked the warmed oil into her skin, working her fingers to flex the joints, sometimes squeezing to apply pressure to the small muscles and tendons, or applying an ever so light touch to sensitise the skin. He looked up and saw her nipples were pert partly from the coolness of the room, partly excitement of anticipation. Using all the will power he could find he did not rush but worked from her hand to her arm, he could feel her soft skin as he carefully smoothed sufficient oil to allow him to work the massage but not so much as to m...
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