Getting Stickier and Stickier
The president’s hands rode down from her trapezius and moved like a dance.
Keeping just the right pressure, he let the oil do its work as his palms glided in long, fluid strokes over Suhee’s flawless back.
“Mmnh…”
“Feels good, doesn’t it?”
“Yeees.”
At the soft unraveling in Suhee’s voice, the smile lingering at the corner of the president’s mouth deepened.
The spring and silk of the flesh under his hands were, as expected, no joke. She was a little tense, but that was nothing. When he pressed into the muscle with a trained grip, he felt the resistance push back, then the elastic rebound as it returned to shape.
If he took a woman with a body like this into his arms and worked his hips, it would be extraordinary. Every time he drove his cock into her she would thrash like a fish.
He pictured Suhee pinned beneath him, legs spread, taking him.
“Ah—”
“Oh—sorry.”
The fantasy of fucking her hard had put too much force into his hands. He quickly poured on more oil and soothed the spot with stroking motions, apologizing as he went.
With both hands he swept down the full length of her back—thumbs along the spine, the other four fingers angling toward her sides. He had poured on so much oil that it ran in slick rivulets and threatened to pool beneath her.
—Press
“Haa… that feels amazing. Too good.”
“Loosening up a little?”
“Yes…”
The atmosphere turned strangely charged.
Suhee found the president’s fingers along her flanks faintly ticklish. The two thumbs working her back were firm and deeply relieving. In contrast, the eight fingers skating her sides moved as if to tease. Through the wet film of oil, a peculiar heat seemed to sink into her flesh.
It wasn’t as if the president had never made a suggestive move before—but by comparison he had been a perfect gentleman. That ambiguity alone was enough to set fire to Suhee’s desire. The massage was easing her locked muscles just enough, and lying there with her upper body bare, surrendering herself, left her feeling faintly unmoored.
She knew her breasts were crushed against the table, the soft outer curves spilling into view at her sides.
—Stroke
“Ah…”
His hands drifted slowly toward her waist. The more he touched her, the more he could only marvel. That waist looked thin enough to snap—yet under his palms it was full of spring. Far from breaking, it would arch and sway and thrash harder still.
In his mind Suhee rolled her hips with wicked grace. The image of her astride him, oil-slick body writhing obscenely, nearly made his cock burst. Even as pure fantasy it was searing—and right now the woman herself was lying there all but naked.
And when he swept down her sides, his fingers brushed the outer swell of her breast. Every nerve funneled into his fingertips. Softer than her firm back, yet dense and springy.
His hands, which had reached her waist, climbed slowly upward again, hungry to feel that texture once more.
“Hngh… ah.”
Suhee didn’t dislike the way he touched her. The contact was strangely erotic—more so because it wasn’t blatantly trying to arouse her. Like water brought to a slow boil. Feeling those hands that had gripped her slender waist so firmly now rising again, a sound slipped from her lips of its own accord.
As if savoring her reaction, the president’s breathing roughened a little. His hands, set slightly wider than on the way down, rode up as far as her ribs. The broader span meant more of his fingers dragged along her sides—ticklish, more stimulating than before.
Suhee’s body twitched. Watching that lewd, beautiful, oil-drenched body quiver under his touch, the president’s cock twitched in answer.
“Ah… ahh…”
Just below her ribs—right before her side-breast—his hands paused. Suhee, wound tight in anticipation of his touch there, went rigid. Her back had begun to arch, bracing for the contact; the sudden stop left a strange hollow in the air.
The instant she tried to gather herself again, his hands moved with bold purpose. He pressed hard into the outer curves of her breasts and shoved upward. He didn’t ease off with his thumbs, either. He had to keep up the pretense of a massage—so while he worked the muscles flanking her spine with steady pressure, he pushed and lifted those springy side-breasts along with them.
“Hhk—”
“Does that hurt?”
Suhee shook her head. The touch had slipped in at that cunning empty beat, so bold it wrung a real moan from her. Afraid that opening her mouth would only free something filthier—the sensation still lingering along the sides of her breasts—she bit her lip and answered with nothing but the shake of her head.
But the sound she had already let out could not be taken back. That lewd little moan, pouring into the president’s ear, only made him bolder. It had not been a sound of dislike. It had been a sound of feeling it.
Thanks to the thorough massage, her body had loosened enough that her sensitivity seemed higher. He had only pushed at the sides of her breasts, and that noise had spilled out of her.
He stole a glance downward where she couldn’t see. His cock was fully hard. As if it, too, had heard her moan, it jerked up and down.
—Gulp. Gulp.
His throat worked as he swallowed hard, again and again. That dense, springy give under both palms—like pressing a water balloon filled to the absolute limit—made it impossible to stop.
“Hngh… mmnh… hhh… ah.”
As his hands traveled faster up and down her, the sounds leaving Suhee’s mouth grew shorter, quicker. Face-down and reduced to nothing but moans, the tension in her body steadily bled away. Already warmed by the massage, she responded to even these simple touches almost at once.
“Haa… ah…”
Looking down at her with satisfaction as she answered his hands, the president moved to the next stage of his plan. Where his palms arrived was the hollow of her underarms.
“All right—arms up over your head. I’ll lift them for you.”
Strength already leaving her, Suhee obediently raised both arms. In that prone, arms-up posture, he dug his index and middle fingers into the pits of her underarms and pressed upward.
“Nnh—”
“It’s good to work these out thoroughly too. Helps with fatigue recovery, and…”
He pressed and rubbed the deepest hollow of each underarm as if tickling her.
“Haa… ah—that tickles… nnh.”
“Easy now… ah, the oil’s dried a bit.”
Her side-breasts were already conquered ground. Under the pretense of reaching for the oil bottle he withdrew his hands, then openly fondled her—and Suhee couldn’t say a word. For one thing, she felt too good, too languid; her mind was hazy. Whether from the massage or not, her body was hot, and the way it answered his suggestive touch felt almost like dreaming.
—Creak
Seeing the state she was in, the president pulled a different bottle from the drawer—not the oil he had been using. This was his secret reserve: a little hotter, formulated to heighten sensitivity. It wasn’t an aphrodisiac, but paired with his skill it could be expected to approach that effect. Expensive, carefully hoarded—but not something he meant to spare on Suhee now.
—Pop
The bottle opened with a clear, bright sound at odds with its purpose. He poured it generously over both hands, worked it with a few wet, slick sounds, then came back to her and drove his fingers without hesitation into the soft, lewd hollows of her underarms.
“Hhk.”
“There—slowly, like this…”
With a motion a little different from ordinary massage, he rubbed her underarms in slow circles—from the arm toward the body, then down. Widening the range until he just grazed the upper swell of her heavy breasts, both their breathing grew rougher by degrees. Suhee receiving it, and the president giving it.
“Haa… ah… nngh.”
“Huu…”
At some point both of them fell silent. He no longer asked if it hurt. He simply explored her body. By now he was all but openly caressing the outer edges of her breasts—pressing into her underarms, the upper curves, the sides, that slender waist. Honestly, there wasn’t a single place he wanted to leave untouched. He worked the heat-building oil into every inch of her, leaving nothing dry, rubbing it in with thorough care.
“Haa… haa… ah… aah…”
His hands felt so good that Suhee no longer bothered to hide her moans. She wanted only to lie there and let him touch her however he liked—to sink into it and enjoy herself thoroughly. Wherever his hands passed, it felt as if fire kindled. A long stroke down her flank left a path of flame along her side; a moment later a cool sensation followed, and her nerves sharpened beyond the ordinary. When his hands traveled that same path again, pleasure rolled through her hard enough to lift her hips.
Suhee was growing looser by the second.
His hands turned downward once more. Oil-slick, they fixed with stubborn intent on the upper curves of her ass. Blatant—and Suhee’s hips, already aroused by that touch, gave a little bounce. The thin cloth caught at her waist slipped lower with every restless shift. It didn’t come off. Caught on the round breadth of her ass and the flare of her hips, it held the line. Thanks to that, her buttocks weren’t fully bared—only the cleft between them showed a little.
Even that much was more than enough for the president. Pale, creamy skin and that faintly visible crease. The more he pressed from her waist and massaged downward, the more her lower body stirred. He wanted nothing more than to strip her completely and bury his cock in her just like this, in this exact position.
“Haa… nh.”
But today’s president had formidable patience. He was resolved not to go further unless Suhee asked for it first. To get those words out of her mouth… honestly, it felt as if just a little more effort would do it.
“Shall we… turn you over?”
He floated the suggestion carefully. Suhee’s upper body was bare right now. Face-down, her breasts were hidden—but if she rolled onto her back, those pretty breasts and nipples would be fully on display. He was aroused, but the words still came out a touch cautiously. Watching her reaction, he stilled his hands.
“…”
Her silence made him flinch.
“Ah—um… just a moment. Let me cover you a little…”
Reluctantly, he reached for a large towel to drape over her body—and in that instant, Suhee pushed herself up.