Stepmother and Massage (2)
"Mmmh.... nngh.... nn..."
Just another ordinary day.
My stepmother was receiving my massage, letting out those peculiar little moans. By now, getting a massage the moment she got home from work had become part of her daily routine.
Still in her work clothes, she would sprawl out on the sofa and give a little flick of her fingers, and I would start in without a word, pressing firmly into her legs. I had gotten the hang of it by this point; the pressure came naturally.
"Should I knead this side too?"
"...Do as you see fit."
Of course, the second I spoke up, she snapped back in that usual cool, sharp voice of hers, as if nothing had happened. As if she needed to keep driving home the fact that I was nothing more than a slave.
"Yes, Master."
But the moment I pressed into one of her weak spots, it never took long before she clamped her lips shut and started fighting back the moans. Watching her, I could tell the massage training of my stepmother was progressing rather smoothly.
Nearly every day of stimulation, and her body was starting to accept my hands on its own.
Guess studying massage paid off.
I didn't have any professional technique, but I had at least figured out the spots she liked. All that steady work was starting to show results. The sounds coming out of her mouth were turning strangely lewd.
Once I gently worked the stiffness out of legs and arms locked up from a full day of teaching, the cracks started to show.
"....I'll do the upper part now as well."
The intimate muscles along her inner thighs—places that would have earned me a scowl for so much as brushing against them before—I could press into as freely as I liked now.
Working out the knots, pressing in just the way that felt good, even a stepmother as haughty as her had no choice but to take what my hands gave her.
Of course she had sexual desire built up in her somewhere, whether she admitted it or not. All I had to do was wake it up little by little through the massage.
The key was never touching her pussy or her breasts. Sure, touching those would feel good—but instead I only worked the areas around them, soft and teasing, like I was deliberately leaving her hanging.
"Mmmh.... press a little harder there."
"Yes, Master."
So far, the results were more than satisfying.
The one disappointment was that she took her massages fully clothed, so the atmosphere never quite tipped over into something properly lewd. She was clearly getting sexual stimulation—but nothing beyond that was really progressing.
...It'd be better if she took her clothes off.
With fabric in the way, my hands never reached bare skin, and that left a lot to be desired. Compared to actual skin on skin, the sensation was inevitably dulled.
Even so, the feel of her body under my palms was incredibly soft. My heart hammered; I swallowed hard. But I absolutely could not be the one to make a move first. I had to hold out until she asked for it herself.
So I poured every ounce of patience I had into working out the knots in her muscles. In between, I didn't forget to stroke her skin the way you would caress someone, coaxing the heat higher.
Maybe I actually had a talent for massage.
"I'm finished."
Just as the air was starting to thicken, I ended the massage at a deliberately awkward moment.
She looked like she wanted me to keep going longer, but pride kept her from asking for more herself.
It was the kind of expression you get when leftover desire you haven't even noticed is piling up and leaving you restless.
I wasn't aiming for anything as dramatic as my stepmother, driven wild by my incredible massage skills, descending into total slut-corruption!—but it was clear she was getting turned on by my hands. Massage and caressing are the same thing when it comes to physical contact. If anything, working over and stroking the whole body might make massage the more erotic of the two.
"Hey."
My stepmother, perched on the edge of the sofa, called me over in a sharp voice.
I swallowed and nodded.
"Yes, Master."
"I'm going to take a shower, so undress me."
We had already gone as far as pussy-licking, so seeing her naked wasn't an issue—but this was the first time she had ordered me to strip her myself.
"……You want me to take your clothes off?"
"Are you deaf? Don't make me say it twice."
"……Yes."
I swallowed again and set my hands at her waist. Slowly peeling the elastic stockings down, I watched the white skin emerge bit by bit. Undressing someone else creates a lewd atmosphere all on its own.
When I couldn't tear my eyes away, a cold sneer touched her face.
"You little pervert. You like it that much? Staring like you're going to burn a hole through me?"
"Yes, Master."
"Then you should show a little gratitude, shouldn't you?"
She wiggled her foot. I pressed my lips slowly to her thigh. Every time more skin appeared as I peeled the stockings away, I kissed it. I stripped the rest of her clothes and left kisses of submission all over her body.
"Haa... that's better... finally starting to act like a proper slave..."
She let out a satisfied breath every time my lips touched her.
Skin already flushed from the massage, brushed by my mouth—it seemed to feel strangely good.
A little more time, and she was left in nothing but her underwear. Her body, heated through from the massage, gleamed with sweat. The sweet scent rising off her was enough to get me hard on its own.
Fuck... I can barely hold it in.
My cock strained up, tenting the front of my pants.
"Master...."
"Is there something you want?"
Still seated on the sofa, she looked at me like she already knew everything and rubbed the sole of her foot slowly back and forth over my cock—mocking me for standing there with a full erection and being able to do nothing about it. That filthy little footwork dragged a moan out of me before I could stop it.
"Ngh—Master...."
After days without any release, the stimulation was almost too much.
She watched me and asked,
"A slave, and all you can do is get horny staring at my body."
"I—I'm sorry..."
"Still, you've been working hard lately, so I'll give you a reward. Is there something you want?"
I turned the words over hard in my head. What answer would satisfy my own need and still feed that haughty pride of hers?
But with her body right in front of me, there wasn't much room for long deliberation.
"Please let me service you however I want..."
"You want to lick my body that badly?"
"……Yes."
Behind her glasses, her eyes narrowed with pure contempt.
For a second I wondered if I'd said the wrong thing—then she spread her legs to the side.
"Do as you like. You horny little bastard."
I swallowed and slowly moved in between her thighs.
And I saw it clearly. The center of her panties was faintly damp with arousal. Proof that the massage had gotten her sexually worked up. Seeing the result right in front of me, I couldn't hide how happy it made me.
"Schlick."
I pressed my lips to the fabric.
I savored the faintly wet texture of her panties against my mouth, then caught the edge in my teeth and slowly peeled them down.
The intimate female scent that had been trapped underneath was released, and a string of wetness stretched between the panties and her pussy as they pulled apart.
I put my mouth to that pussy and started sucking up every drop of the juices running out of her.
"Schlooorp... slurp... schlurrrp...."
"Haa... haa... lick every corner properly, you slave mutt. Nngh...."
My stepmother moaned in a sweet, melting voice.
Maybe because I had already worked her up with the massage, her reactions were better than usual. All that steady effort really had been worth it.
Knowing that even this cold, haughty stepmother was still a woman who felt lust gave me a rush of courage.
Good thing I ordered that massage oil ahead of time.
I could feel it—the moment to make my move was getting closer.
The next day.
Right before the massage, I came in holding a small bottle.
"And what's that supposed to be?"
My stepmother, already lying on the sofa, eyed the mysterious bottle in my hand. I launched into the explanation I had prepared.
"It's massage oil. I ordered it because they say it makes the massage work better."
This was my secret weapon.
Calling it a "secret weapon" was a little pathetic, but using it would definitely help build that sticky, heated atmosphere. I had deliberately bought a high-end rose-scented oil—the kind she liked—and spent a fair amount of money on it.
"Massage oil?"
She seemed at least a little interested. Lately she had gotten thoroughly hooked on the massages I gave her, so of course she would take the bait.
"Yes. They say it's good for recovering from fatigue. It moisturizes the skin too, and since you shower after the massage anyway, I thought maybe we could try using oil once..."
I rattled on with the explanation, but honestly I didn't know much about what massage oil actually did.
I just planned to use it to create that sticky atmosphere.
In massage porn, they always use this oil to build a lewd mood that eventually leads to sex, don't they? Apparently that isn't just a setup—it actually works.
The feel of skin would come across as more sensual, and more importantly, you had to take your clothes off to get an oil massage.
Meaning she has to be naked.
A legitimate reason to strip my stepmother for the massage.
That was the most important part.
".....Fine. Try using it."
After thinking it over for a long while, curiosity about the oil massage won out, and she nodded.
Watching her, I clenched a fist inside.
...I finally had my chance.